#like he came back and those arms...that chest

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Simon hated the tapping out ceremony. Ever since he first had to partake in one, he despised it. With no family and very few friends, he was usually the last on the field, waiting until one of his superiors would tap him out. But he couldn’t skip them either.

So there he was. The sun was beating down on the hundreds of soldiers lined up in neat little rows, standing at attention while they waited for their loved ones. And they came quickly. One soldier after the other was tapped out by their parents, siblings, spouse, and sometimes even children. But he stayed still, watching the happy reunions out of the corner of his eyes. Watching the tears and hugs and kisses. He envied the others; he was jealous of what they had, and he didn’t. But Simon had always been good at following orders, so he didn’t move, barely even blinked as he was surrounded by happiness, while he drowned in his own sorrow.

After an hour, there was only one other soldier left. Simon had barely interacted with him, but he knew his face. And just when Simon thought he wouldn’t be the only one without someone to tap him out this time, a crowd of eight people moved toward the soldier. At the front was an older-looking woman, her brown hair streaked with grey and lines on her face, indicating her age. Around her were people of all ages and genders.

“My son!” The woman let out a sob as she finally threw her arms around the soldier’s neck, causing the man to chuckle, as he hugged her back. “I missed you too, mama.”

One by one, he talked to the people surrounding him, hugged them, and kissed them. Simon couldn’t help but watch, bile rising in his throat as jealousy threatened to overtake him. And as he watched, he couldn’t help but imagine himself in the soldier’s stead. Surrounded by a happy, loud, and loving family. People who were happy to see him. Nowadays, the only people he could call family were the guys from the 141, and they were away on a mission. Still, in his mind, the scene played out. His mother, smiling, rushing toward him. Followed by his brother and his wife, carrying his nephew.

The daydream was interrupted by someone walking toward him. He expected it to be his superior, there to finally release him from the nightmare. But it wasn’t.

A young woman took timid steps in his direction. Her eyes, bright but filled with sadness. Not her own sadness, though, it was sadness she felt for him. He didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t blink. She came to a stop in front of him, gazing up with a frown.

“Is someone coming?” Simon hesitated before giving an almost invisible shake of his head. She gasped, it was quiet and he barely heard it, but he felt it. In every bone, he felt her sadness and the sorrow she carried for him. Slowly, as if not to startle him, she lifted her hand, until it was inches away from his chest. “Is…is this okay?” When he gave a slight nod, she gently pressed her hand against his chest, finally tapping him out.

A breath he didn’t realize he had been holding escaped him as he finally turned to properly look at the woman. She was still gazing up at him, a soft smile now replacing the frown on her face.

“Thank you.” She nodded in response before glancing back at her family. When she looked back at Simon, she looked determined. “We’re going out to eat dinner if you’d like to join us?” Simon was about to decline when someone called out to him.

“Oi! Ghost!” He looked up and saw the soldier, now facing him, an arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder. “Let’s go; my mom says dinner’s on us!” Without waiting for a response, he turned around and started walking toward the car park, his entire family in tow. Simon kept looking after him until a soft, small hand slipped into his own. He glanced down and found the woman smiling up at him.

“Come, my mom doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” And with those words, the woman gently led him to follow her family.

Part 2

A/N: This will be a two-parter. I hope you liked it!

[morikosa]

Summary: His adorable sweet bunny is in the heat and he, as a responsible owner, is there to help his bunny.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY // MDNI — Bunny!reader, Oral (f! Receiving), reader is too innocent for this world

Time passed, and you got used to him. You have changed a lot since he took you in. You ate good food, showered regularly, and were dressed in nice clothes. He even tried to teach you how to talk, not like your old owner.

He loved you.

And you loved him.

You got so used to him that you could never sleep without him. It was too hard for you to sleep without him stroking your hair, your bunny ears, and your plush bunny tail.

But there is only one problem for you

Because of his career as a sorcerer, he was always at work. Sometimes, he came home very late, and you missed him very much.

Today was one of those days. He wasn't home now,

You were waiting for him on his bed for hours, you even had one of his shirts, your arms wrapped tightly around him, and you were breathing in his smell; it smelled just like him.

You curled up on the bed, hugging his shirt tightly. You missed him so much; it was hard for you to fall asleep without him, his strong, protective presence always made you feel secure.

You felt a throbbing and wetness between your legs as you thought about him, you were getting wet. The wetness from your pussy was soaking the bed. You weren't sure what it was.

What if he gets mad at you? What if he says you're a dirty bunny girl and throws you out on the street?

Suddenly, you heard the sound of the door opening, your small bunny ears twitched gently

You lifted your head, your eyes wide with excitement, and a huge smile crossed your small face. Without waiting, you ran to the door.

He smiled as he heard the pat-pat of your tiny feet; his cute rabbit seemed to have missed him a lot

When you saw him, you jumped in his muscular arms and hugged him tightly

''I-I… m-missed… you''

Gojo grinned as he saw your cute eyes filled with love. He chuckled softly and leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead.

He chuckled, enjoying the moment as you jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly. "Aww, my little bunny missed me, huh?"

Slowly, he wrapped his strong arms around you, squeezing your delicate frame gently. "Well, I missed you too, my sweet. You're so adorable when you're all bundled up in my arms."

Gojo hummed as he carried you to the bedroom, setting you on the bed. He then removed his jacket and shoes, placing them in the designated spot before sitting on the bed and pulling you onto his lap.

"I'm sorry I was late today," Gojo said, gently stroking your soft hair and bunny ears, "But I'm here now''

His eyes drifted to the wet spot on the bed… it smelled like… well, arousal… He smirked slightly and chuckled

When you saw him looking at that wet spot, you immediately buried your face in his chest. Your eyes filled with shame.

You knew you had done something wrong, he was angry with you. You thought like that, your beautiful eyes filled with tears your cute voice was trembling

''S-sorry… Y/N is… sorry. I w-won't do it''

Gojo couldn't help but smirk as he looked down at the wet spot on the bed. "Well, well, looks like my little bunny is in heat, huh?" He chuckled softly

When he saw you crying, his eyes softened, and he kissed your forehead.

"Of course not, my little bunny. How could I be mad at you when you're so adorable?" And… I see my beautiful bunny seems to have a bit of a problem. And what kind of owner would I be if I didn't take care of you?''

With these words, he gently laid you on your back, your soft rabbit ears and puffy tail twitching slightly.

He took a moment to admire your body. It was so small, delicate, and completely innocent. He could see the wetness from your pussy slowly spreading on the white bedsheets, and it excited him.

Slowly, he began to undress you, taking off your clothes piece by piece, revealing your milky white skin. He kissed your ample tits gently, feeling the rapid beating of your heart before moving lower, his tongue slowly tracing the outline of your wet pussy.

Gojo smiled, looking up at you, "I'm going to take care of you, my little bunny."

"You smell so good, my sweet bunny. I can't wait to taste you."

And with that, he buried his face between your thighs,

Gojo continued to lick your juicy pussy, his tongue moving in circles around your clit. He could feel your small body squirming beneath him, your moans and whimpers filling the room.

His cock was hard, straining against his pants. He wanted to fuck you so badly, to feel your tight little hole around his cock. But he held back, wanting to make sure you were fully pleasured first.

"Mmm, you taste so sweet, my little bunny," he murmured, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "I could eat this pretty pussy all day."

He slid two fingers inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around him. He pumped his fingers in and out, curling them to hit your G-spot. At the same time, he sucked on your cunt, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub.

''kyah~'' you squeal cutely

Gojo could feel your delicate body tensing, your moans growing louder. He smirked, knowing that you were close to orgasm. He increased his pace, licking and fingering your juicy, puffy pussy more vigorously.

"Cum for me, my little bunny," he growled, his eyes locked onto you.

It didn't take long for you to lose your composure, your small body arching off the bed as you came hard, your pussy clenching around Gojo's fingers and tongue. He continued to lick and suck until your orgasm subsided, the taste of your cum making his cock ache with desire.

Pulling his fingers from your pussy, he sat back on his heels, admiring the flushed cheeks and messy hair of his bunny. He gently wiped away the strands of hair that fell into your cute eyes, leaning in to capture your lips in a deep kiss.

"Good girl," he praised, breaking the kiss to remove his clothes, leaving him fully naked before you. "Now it's my turn to be pleasured." With that, he positioned himself between your legs, his large cock pressing against your entrance. "Ready for me, little bunny?"

Your eyes widened in fear as you looked at his cock; what was he going to do with it? Will he put that big, veiny thing inside you…?

Gojo smirked and caressed your hair, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle. I promise~" With that, he slowly pushed his cock into your tight pussy, feeling your body adjust to his size. He paused, looking into your eyes, ensuring you were okay before resuming his thrusts, slowly at first, building speed and intensity.

He gripped your plump hips tightly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet heat, the sound of the bodies meeting filling the room. The sensation of your pussy gripping his cock was enough to make him moan, his eyes half-closed in pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight." he panted, his pace quickening as he neared his climax. "I will fill you up with my cum."

''I-I~ Ah~hah~!

His eyes locked onto your twitching bunny ears as he fucked you, he couldn't help and reached up to grab your soft, fluffy bunny ears. He gave them a gentle tug, watching your face contort with pleasure.

He loved how sensitive they were, and how you reacted with such a cute little whimper whenever he touched them.

"These ears are so cute," he purred, his fingers stroking the velvety fur. "I love how they twitch every time I touch them."

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he grabbed your soft bunny ears, gently tugging on them. He loved how sensitive they were, and how you reacted with such a cute little whimper whenever he touched them.

He continued to thrust into your tight pussy, his cock hitting all the right spots inside your pussy. Your cute moans and whimpers only spurred him on, making him want to fuck you harder, faster

''A-Ah~''

"That's it, let me hear those sweet sounds~" Gojo encouraged, his grip on your hips tightening.

He could feel your pussy clenching around his cock, your body tensing as you neared your climax. His orgasm was rapidly approaching, his cock throbbing inside your small cunt.

"Come for me, little bunny," he growled, his thrusts were becoming erratic. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he came hard, filling your puffy pussy with his hot, thick cum. He continued to rock his hips, riding out the waves of his orgasm, ensuring that every last drop of his seed was buried deep inside you.

Finally, panting and sweaty, he collapsed on top of you, his cock still buried inside you. He peppered your small, flushed face with kisses, whispering sweet words of love and affection.

"That was incredible, my little bunny," he murmured, gently stroking your hair. "You took your owner's cock so well."

He slowly pulled out of you, watching as his cum began to drip out of your well-used pussy. Gojo smirked, feeling a sense of pride knowing that he had marked his sweet bunny as his.

"Stay right there, little bunny," he instructed, moving to grab a warm towel from the bathroom. "I'm going to clean you up."

He gently wiped away the sweat and cum from your small cunt, taking extra care to clean your sensitive pussy.

Once done, he lay down next to you, pulling your fragile frame close for a tender embrace. He kissed your forehead and nuzzled his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply as he savored the scent of you.

He strokes your soft tail, eliciting a soft giggle from you. The combination of your cute laugh and the bunny ears and tail.

He whispered, his voice still thick with lust. "You are too adorable for this world, Bunny-chan~"

[kamaluhkhan]

WE DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE, MY LOVE.

pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2k summary: after years of thinking her dead, ekko brings vi to the firelight base. you don't really know how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. warnings: arcane level angst + lesbian yearning. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader has tattoos and a star-shaped birthmark behind her ear (y'all know vi loves a nickname and i thought 'stargirl' was v cute so i had to make it work). fic gets slightly suggestive at the end ;) author's note: happy act iii release day!!! i wrote this instead of working on my thesis oops. in my defense, vi has sparked something in me that i simply cannot ignore. i'm also working on a werewolf! pitfighter!vi x vampire slayer!reader fic (set in the same universe, just with a slight twist) sooo that might be done before part 2 of this fic (which is where the smut happens hehe). anyways, thank you for reading!

inspired by that quote: "i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough" by nikka ursula

even after all these years, vi is still the first one to notice you. 

her eyes widen as she hesitates to pull away from ekko, but you clear your throat to catch both of their attentions.

“i thought we were gonna question her together.”

ekko wipes a stray tear from his cheek and stands up a little straighter. 

“you were taking too long,” he shrugs. “don’t worry — she’s clean.”

you trust ekko’s judgement, but you still can’t reckon with the fact that vi is alive. you’d splashed cold water on your face just before to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

“i don’t know.” you walk closer until you’re standing arms length from vi. “the vi i knew wouldn’t be caught dead with a topsider, let alone an enforcer.” 

you examine her carefully, and you imagine she’s doing the same to you. vi looks more grown up — stronger and sharper. you’d spent so much time in limbo, not knowing if she were alive or dead. you aren’t sure how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. 

“i guess the shoddy undercut is a pretty clear give away,” you deadpan.

vi quirks an eyebrow at you. “shoddy, huh? you know, your tattoos look like they were drawn by blindfolded children.”

she smiles, all bright and toothy. the scar on her upper lip stretches, achingly familiar, and you decide there’s nothing you want to do more than to bring her into your arms, to bring her closer, so you do. 

her hair tickles your cheek as you whisper:

“i did those tattoos myself.”

vi chuckles, and you feel it vibrate across her body to yours.

“i know. they’re beautiful.” her index finger traces the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear; you shiver. “i was just messing with you, stargirl.”

vi was the only one who ever called you that, said you made her life brighter or some other sweet nothing that would effortlessly fall from her mouth.

gods, she was the first one who even noticed that birthmark on your skin. 

“i was messing with you, too. the hair — you look hot.”

you feel her heart beating faster against your chest as she smiles into your shoulder.

she’s here.

she’s not some ghost from your past.

she’s really here. 

you’re so overwhelmed by how solid she is against you that you start to pull away, but vi catches your hand before you can fully untangle yourself from her. 

“that’s all i get?” she wonders, licking her lips.

you’re tempted, very tempted, to give her more. maybe you would have, until ekko clears his throat behind you.

“should i….give y’all a moment?” ekko asks. “i’ll go get the piltie.”

you then remember who vi came here with; she might not be working for silco, but you stand by your suspicions at her bringing a topsider to the lanes. 

you slip your hand from hers. you roll your shoulders back as if that would really shake away the hold she’s always had on you.

time has passed. things have changed. neither of you are kids anymore, and you don't have the luxury of indulging in a frivolous crush.

“sure thing, e. let’s show them around.”

“still a night owl, i see.”

vi finds you perched on one of the trees highest branches, surrounded by firelights as you sketch something. you close your sketchbook instantly and place it on the other side of you when vi sits down.

“thought you’d be in bed with that enforcer of yours.” 

“her name’s caitlyn.”

“caitlyn,” you scoff, shaking your head. 

the bitterness you try to hide is all too transparent to vi, who has to bite back a laugh at your pettiness. 

“you say her name like you’re gonna hex her. never pegged you as a jealous ex.”

“technically, we never broke up,” you point out. 

a firelight lands on your hand, and you let it crawl up the lines etched on your skin. 

“if that’s the case, i owe you an apology for cheating on you when i was in prison.”

you frown, but say nothing, your eyes following that same firelight as it illuminates your tattoos. 

“don’t worry, i’m kidding!” vi pauses. “mostly.”

the firelight flies away, and you huff out an annoyed breath. 

“whatever. i don’t care who you’ve fucked, or who you’re fucking. and, you don’t owe me anything. it’s not like we’re anything to each other, anymore.”

vi sucks in a sharp breath — she wouldn’t have expected such harsh words from you.

“is that why you can’t even look at me?” she finally asks.

you’d been strictly business since you first reunited hours ago. you expertly distanced yourself from vi all throughout the tour of the firelights’ base, and throughout dinner, too. 

where’s the girl she’d spend hours goofing around with, who always had a witty response to her sarcastic remarks, who smiled at her in such a way that made her chest glow? where’s the girl who brightened vi’s life when it seemed like the darkness would never leave?

you press your knees to your chest and curl into yourself. vi notices then — the slump of your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and just how deeply exhausted you must feel, down to your bones. 

“i don’t know,” you sigh. “part of me still can’t believe you’re alive. i know that i should be happy that you are, but i keep thinking about everything i could have done to protect you, and powder —”

“hey. it’s my job to worry about everyone, remember?”

“you weren’t here.”

“i am now.”

she gently moves your chin so that you face her, so that you can see that she’s not going anywhere, at least for tonight. 

which is probably more time than either of you thought you’d ever have together again.

vi notices how your eyes flick down to her lips and back up, and she feels something spark in her chest. but then, you shake your head as though trying to wake up from a dream and turn away once more. 

“that enforcer of yours —”

“she’s not my —”

“whoever she is, she talked about how we all need to heal. i just keep thinking about what you’ve been through, what we’ve all been through…. how it never really stops. healing would be nice, but it’s hard when you have to keep fighting every day. you remember what ekko said, about why we chose this place?” 

of course, she remembers. 

“that if even a seed can survive down here, maybe we could, too.”

 “we. who’s ‘we,’ vi?” you laugh, but there’s no joy behind it. “we’ve gotten used to surviving without each other. maybe it was meant to be that way.”

“that’s not fair.” 

“a lot of things aren’t fair.” you gesture around at the base. “this — this community — took blood, sweat, and tears to build and i just know how easy it would be for someone to destroy it all. which is why we fight, obviously, to protect all this and each other, but i’m scared that we can only do so for so long before we burn out.” you let out a shuddery breath. “is it even all worth it?”

vi swallows the tears building in her throat. you had always been the hopeful one, and it makes vi’s chest ache to think about what you must have endured to lose the brightness that had been woven into your being. 

that's part of what got her through these past few years, and there's no way she's going to let it fade.

“i....i think so,” vi starts, trying to find it within her to be inspirational. “maybe it'll make a difference in the long run, even if we don’t see that now. and that someone, someday in the future, will be able to not just survive, but live in a better world.”

you raise an eyebrow at her, and vi swears there's a slight smile on your face.

"what?" she asks, her cheeks heating up.

"i'm just...surprised. how is it possible that prison made you less cynical?”

there's a glimmer to your eyes that wasn't there before, something playful, and vi decides to lean into it.

"oh, it wasn't prison," vi says, nudging her shoulder against hers. "see, i ran into this pretty girl from my past and she's this totally badass freedom fighter now, so i think there's some hope in the world."

you snort. "good to know you're still an unbearable flirt."

"i thought you loved that about me."

you laugh, a sparkling sound that vi wishes she could carry with her wherever she goes. it’s contagious, too, and vi finds herself giggling along with you. when it dies down, you rest your head on her shoulder, something you did even back when you were only friends.

“i missed you,” she admits. 

“yeah?” your voice is softer than a whisper. 

you lift your head and vi cradles your face in her hands.

vi nods. “so fucking much, and i want to prove it. if you’ll let me. please.”

“vi,” you exhale. she’s so close now that she can feel you breathing against her lips. “i can’t. you’re with that enforcer.”

“we’re not together,” vi assures, bumping her nose against yours. 

she leans in ever so closely to kiss you, but you move away. 

“you’re still with her, though, and you’re leaving in the morning,” you continue. “things are already so….complicated. i just don’t think we should start something we won’t be able to finish.”

with nothing more to say, you gather your sketchbook and pencils. vi’s sure that you’re not going to bed, just off to nestle into another hiding spot for the night, away from her.

maybe you’re still putting up a cold front, protecting yourself because that’s how you've been surviving in this world where the risk of losing everything lingers, and only gets heavier as you grow older.

but, gods, vi really has missed you, the you she remembers so vividly, the you that shone through just moments ago. she knows that glowing heart of yours is hardened by layers of ice, and she’s determined to make them all melt away.

vi gets up and calls after you:

“haven’t we already?” 

you stop in your tracks. you slowly turn around to back at her.

a moment passes, maybe more. the two of you suspended in time. your eyes are telling her a million different things – you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re tempted, you’re tired – and all vi can do is blink back more tears because it’s true, how your story together never got the happy ending you deserved. 

“please, y/n. if this is our second chance, even just for a night —”

she’s cut off by you crashing your lips against hers.

the two of you were young, really, just girls when you first kissed. it was awkward and messy and though it ignited something in the pit of vi’s stomach, it was nothing compared to this.

she lets you guide her as you please, lets you press your body against hers against the trunk of the tree. she lets your lips mold into hers until her lungs are burning. 

your chest is heaving as you pull away slightly; vi bites back a whine. air isn’t what she needs, she’s sure of it. what she really needs is more of you.

you study her like she might not be real, like she might not really be here.

but she is. your thumb wipes away a fallen tear, across the tattoo on her cheek. 

“you’re so beautiful.”

“yeah, i know. they should build statues of me,” she smirks, although she could have swooned right then and there. you’re the only person she can recall calling her beautiful. 

sexy? oh, yeah. charming? definitely. hot? often. 

no one else calls her beautiful, though, let alone makes her feel like it the way you do.

“bad at flirting and full of yourself," you tease. "some things really don't change."

vi's laughter is cut short by you trailing your mouth down her neck. when your teeth reach her pulse point, vi gets a glimpse of something over your shoulder.

“guess you missed me too, huh?” 

she gestures with her chin, which she instantly regrets as you pull away to follow her gaze, looking at the drawings of her from your fallen sketchbook.

“you weren’t supposed to see those,” you huff. it's hot, how flustered you get.

she tugs on one of your belt loops to bring you flush against her hips, bringing you back to her. vi presses her thigh between your legs, relishing in how your mouth opens in a perfect gasp.

“like i said, baby: i missed you. 'cept i'm not talented like you, so my creative imagination had to carry me through some long nights."

“is that so….” your hand slips underneath her tank top, and you manage to pull a groan from vi by scratching your nails against her skin. “maybe you can clue me in to what, exactly, you’ve imagined.”

vi smirks again. she places a kiss on your birthmark before whispering in your ear:

“sure thing, stargirl.”

[reignpage]

Just a Quick Stop

You had prepared yourself for the goodbyes. 

Practiced a lot in front of the bathroom mirror; smiling when you say ‘we had a great run’, swallowing the tears when you shake hands, and ignoring the warmth from his palm and the comforting callouses you had long mapped out. 

It wouldn’t be too hard, right?

Because you had known there would be an end to your relationship from the very beginning, hell, he told you himself that this wasn’t anything serious. And you thought you knew what that meant, after all this is the modern era, loads of people have flings, so you shrugged his stern tone off and undressed once more, revelling in the euphoria only he could give you. 

But what do girls know of the world?

What did you know, at that age? About being in a man’s world? Of keeping things casual and plainly sexual?

It wasn’t your fault, strictly speaking. He’s older, he should have known better than to say one thing and then do another. Should have never let the lines blur from quick fucks to long aftercare, messy make-outs to reassuring kisses, and from throat grabbing to hand holding. 

He should have never bought groceries, refilled your car, made you soup when you were sick, and he definitely should not have let you introduce him to your friends. 

But he did. 

He did all those things and more. 

And your fridge was never empty, you haven’t been anywhere near a gas station, not been sick on your own, and your friends absolutely love him. 

Why is it so easy to let someone in your life and so damn hard to let them go?

It can’t be because you didn’t know you would have to, because you did. It was one of those late-night thoughts that kept you awake and paranoid, made you anxious when you didn’t wake up in his arms. It also can’t be because he was just so easy to let in?

No, he was towering and clumsy, unused to the plush carpets and shiny hardwood floors. You had to weave around his frame to get to the kitchen, and pick up his dirty socks, tell him off for leaving the toilet seat up, or placing the cereal boxes a shelf too high. 

Eventually, however, you learned to time his steps with yours, warned him before he could even remove them, knew well enough to always pull down the seat even in the dark, and ask for his help in the mornings. 

You made room for him. 

But he never did the same for you. 

That much is clear now, as you stay in the hallway, sitting criss-crossed, watching the door. 

You knew something was off when you came back home — there was the faint smell of bleach lingering in the air, and when you wandered further in, you noticed the dishes were washed and stacked, the carpet fluffy, the cushions plump, and fresh flowers were in the vase.

Your heart knew before your mind did. 

The socks were gone, the toilet seat down, and you didn’t even dare to look at the cereal boxes, could only stumble back to the front door, gawk at the empty spaces between pairs of shoes, clutching your chest like it might just cave in. 

One thing is on your mind, as you stay sitting in the dark. 

You wish you had gotten to use your well-thought speech, had gotten to practice your acting a little more, tested it on a real audience, the real audience, or been the mature one and reached in for a hug like it meant nothing. 

But you can’t.

Because he’s gone.

And Toji didn't even say goodbye.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑾𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔*

Pairing: Minho x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Fluff (tiny tiny angst)

Warnings: Nothing really? Just mooshy yapping. Minho is just bad with his words. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings

A/N: this came out a little shorter than I wanted but I think it’s still cute.

This Request had prompts from my second prompt list: 17.) “I’m not blushing, I’m just hot” 29.) “That’s not what I said”

-🖤

Hand in hand walking down the side walk with your boyfriend. He stopped at your favorite ice cram place on your walk trying to find a nice place to sit. You both talked as you ate your ice cream, you could see he had something on his mind though. You didn’t wanna pry at least not yet. As the night air started to get colder and it started to get later as you kept talking.

You loved these nights, the nights he was all yours where you could spend time with him. These nights were those from movies where it just felt like the two of you. “Y/n you know I like you a lot right?” He said softly braking the calm silence.

“Yeah” you said with a little giggle.

“Well I- I-“ he stuttered out he wouldn’t look at you making you feel your heart drop a small bit. Oh. Oh no.. was he about to dump you? Did he bring you out here to break up with you?

“I just- uugh I don’t know how to say this” he said getting up he paced a small bit still not looking at you. He was frustrated, he wasn’t the best at words and especially right now when they weren’t coming out properly. He had this all planned out words he kept repeating so he wouldn’t get it wrong. And here he was. Messing it up.

“Y/n I don’t like you” he blurted out his words making his eyes go wide. What? He literally just said he liked you? What was happening? You felt your heart just shatter, hanging your head down feeling the tears prick at your eyes.

“Just do it, break up with me, just get it over with” you stuttered out as the tears started to fall.

He was frantic, he sat down below you trying to calm you down. “That’s not what I said- I mean I did say that but I didn’t mean it like that-“ he babbled out. All the words that were floating around his head but none could come out properly, nothing would come out.

“What else could you mean minho? You said it- you don’t like me” you said trying to wipe your eyes choking back anymore tears. You got up quickly trying to walk away before he grabbed ahold of you. Pulling you to his chest wrapping his arms around you. He held onto you tightly feeling like you were floating away from him. Seeing you cry his heart was breaking from his own bad choice of words.

“No no no please wait I didn’t mean it like that, y/n I fuck y/n I love you- I don’t like you I love you-“ he choked out feeling like he was gonna cry himself. “I’m sorry I- I’m so bad at this I’ve-“ he started.

You smacked his arm “you need to work on your choice of words asshole” you said with a frown.

“I know I know I’m sorry, I just- I wanted to make it perfect I had a whole thing I wanted to say and try and be cute and I fucked it up. Please I’m sorry for making you cry” his words coming out fast and mumbled.

He clung onto you holding you tightly “I just really love you” he breathed out. “I’ve never felt like I could say those words to anyone besides friend and family but you came and- y/n I love you I’m sorry I’m dumb” he said looking up at you with a small tear falling.

“I love you too dummy” you said softly wiping his tear away his head leaning into your touch.

“I’m sorry for messing-“ he started to say before you cut him off.

“Stop apologizing it’s ok, I know it’s hard for you to get your words out especially for something like this” you said sweetly. Thumb rubbing against his cheek your eyes looking at him fondly. “Something I love about you is I know when you finally get the words out is that I know you thought about them carefully, trying to get it perfect”

“So you really love me too?” He said softly.

“Minho, I’ve wanted to say it for so long, yes. I love you. I love you so much. You make me so happy” you say with a warm smile. Seeing you smile made his aching heart melt now. He loved that smile.

His face starts heating up turning all shades of red and pink. You’ve never seen him blush so much and you couldn’t help but giggle “ooh I got you all blushy, look at how red you are” you teased.

“I’m not- I’m not blushing- it’s just really hot out here” he said pouting a bit.

“Min it’s cold out here nice try” you said with another giggle.

“I take back what I said you’re a bully” he said still pouting.

“Nope, Minho loves me! You can’t take it back.” You teased more.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck holding onto you somehow even tighter. “I couldn’t take it back even if I tried, I love you.. I love you a lot y/n so much it scares me” he admit.

“Well don’t be scared cause I feel the same way, and you’re not getting rid of me that easy” you said kissing his head.

“Good” he said softly.

“Now let’s go get another ice cream?” You said making him laugh.

“Fine, I guess you deserve another one after I made you cry”

“Definitely and I think I deserve a kiss too”

He smiled leaning up to kiss you lovingly. “Mm even sweeter than the ice cream” you said with almost heart eyes. His face turning that same reddish again.

God did he love you, he loved everything about you. He’d make it up to you, think of the perfect date to ‘retry’. He needed to make it perfect to show you how much he loved you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan n @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[creamflix]

happiness is a butterfly — sukuna x female reader   content warnings: fluff, wholesome crack, arranged marriage, yapper reader, implied heinen!era sukuna   — masterlist here ☆

it was a rather silly sight, truly. a queen pacing her chambers, speaking aloud to herself as if carrying on a conversation with another. 

but it wasn’t uncommon for you, especially on days when even the estate’s servants — those with whom you’d built a steady rapport — weren’t in a position to entertain your musings.

you often spoke of the little things that caught your interest: the peculiar patterns on a foreign tapestry that had arrived earlier in the week, the way the evening sun cast golden streaks across the estate’s garden, or a particularly intriguing passage you’d read about distant lands and their customs. then, of course, there were your personal passions — musings on literature, art, or even the intricacies of floral arrangements you wished to try your hand at.

tonight was no different. pacing back and forth across the polished floor of your chambers, you animatedly discussed the potential arrangement of a rose and lavender bouquet, occasionally breaking into thoughts on how such combinations symbolized both passion and serenity.

your voice was lively, your gestures animated as you imagined the possibilities, oblivious to the passage of time. 

it wasn’t until the faint creak of the door broke your reverie that you froze mid-sentence.

turning sharply, your heart leapt into your throat when you saw sukuna standing in the doorway. his crimson gaze swept the room before landing on you, a single brow arched in mild curiosity.

“who is it you’re speaking to?” he asked, his tone neutral yet laced with an edge of command.

heat rushed to your face, mortification settling in as you clasped your hands together, suddenly acutely aware of how unqueenly your actions had been. “no one, my lord,” you said hurriedly, bowing your head in shame. “just... my own thoughts.”

he stepped further into the room, the door closing with a soft thud behind him. you braced yourself for some scolding remark about dignity and decorum, but instead, he simply observed you in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“you seemed quite invested in the subject,” he said finally, moving toward the edge of the chamber where his robes awaited removal.

“it was nothing of importance,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

he scoffed softly, unfastening the heavy belt at his waist. “then why did you speak of it with such passion?”

you hesitated, unsure if his words were meant to mock or if he truly sought an answer. when his gaze flicked to you, sharper and more expectant now, you relented. “i didn’t think anyone would hear me. it is... embarrassing, my lord, to prattle on about trivial matters aloud.”

“trivial?” his tone hardened, and he set the belt aside with deliberate care. “if it was so trivial, would it compel you to pace about like a court philosopher delivering some grand discourse?”

your lips parted in protest, but no words came. he sighed, turning back to you fully now, his arms crossing over his chest.

“continue,” he said simply.

your brow furrowed in confusion. “my lord?”

“whatever it was you were discussing — continue. i’m listening,” he clarified, already reaching to undo the clasps of his outer robe.

“but...” you faltered, glancing down at your hands. “it’s hardly fitting of a queen to...”

“enough,” he interrupted, his voice firm but lacking any true menace. “do you think i’d demand such a thing if i didn’t intend to listen?”

the room was quiet save for the faint rustle of fabric as he removed his robe, setting it aside with practiced precision. his gaze returned to you, expectant but patient.

tentatively, you began to speak again, your words slower now, less animated than before. but as you continued, weaving through the intricate details of floral arrangements and their symbolic meanings, his steady presence eased your nerves.

sukuna said little, merely nodding here and there or humming faintly in acknowledgment. his sharp gaze, however, remained fixed on you, betraying a level of attention you hadn’t anticipated.

when he finally moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his tunic undone and his posture more relaxed, he gestured for you to come closer.

“you’ve more knowledge on the matter than i gave you credit for,” he remarked, his tone devoid of sarcasm. “and here i thought your talents were limited to courtly affairs.”

your cheeks burned, unsure whether to take his words as praise or something else entirely.

“does it amuse you, my lord?” you asked cautiously, your hands clasping together once more.

his gaze softened, though his expression remained impassive. “amuse? no. intrigue? perhaps. you’ve a mind for such things — a pity you keep it to yourself.”

his words struck something within you, a mixture of validation and guilt swirling in your chest. you bowed your head again, this time not in shame but in gratitude. “thank you, my lord.”

“enough of that,” he said gruffly, leaning back against the bedpost. “if you have more to say, then say it. and next time you find yourself pacing this chamber, don’t wait for me to step in.”

a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself, and as you continued speaking, sukuna closed his eyes — not in disinterest, but in quiet appreciation of the sound of your voice filling the room.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[kabuki-writes]

A Reflection Of Venus

chapter: 1 of ?

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: For years Acacius was able to keep his precious and only daughter away from the Emperor's eyes. But after his latest victory, he couldn't evade the already inevitable.

warning(s): mention of alcohol consumption | swearing | sexual implications | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: Reader is the daughter of General Acacius and his wife, which is not Lucilla in this fanfiction.

word count: 3.1k

General Acacius was a hero for the Roman Empire, a sun that was burning brighter with every new victory he won in a new war campaign ordered by Emperor Geta and his twin brother Emperor Caracalla. The reign of the twins was nothing compared to one of their deceased father Emperor Septimius Severus, who was once one of the closest friends and brother-in-arms of Acatius. While Severus fought wars mainly to protect the borders of the already massive Empire, his sons' hunger for expansion became clear from the very first day they inherited the title "Emperor". And general Acacius became their tool in this project. Nothing was too expensive, they backed him with legions, war-ships, the best equipment and supply, and the capable general became an unstoppable force, a soldier of the God Mars himself. But at what cost?

As the years went on, he'd rarely been home, always travelling with his marching soldiers and being on the front line of every battle he fought. And when he came back, he felt sick from all the pomp and gold the Emperor's threw at him, the victory processions through Rome, while the smell of blood still lingered in his nose and the cries of the women and children echoed in his mind. It was one of those days. The sun stood high over the wide street that lead to the Palatin, the sides filled with the cheering crowd - common people, soldiers, slaves, senators, merchants, they all celebrated his victory in a triumphant procession. His marching soldiers were led by Acacius chariot, clothed in the white armor of a victor. His face could've been one to be carved in marble, stoic and upright, facing the great Palatin, where the Emperors would await him.

Geta and Caracalla - the twin-sons of Septimius Severus, Emperors of Rome. They stoof there in golden Armor like sun gods with their golden crowns on top of their short gingerblonde hair. Their unusual pale skin was a testament to their wealth as they could afford to stay out of the sun, which burns especially hot on summer days like this one, and of course on the battlefields in Africa, where Acatius' men had to fight against the rebellious Nubians. They awaited their victor with proud smiles on their lips, while Acacius' procession ended at the footsteps of the Emperor's palace. He walked the marble steps towards them, his long cloak moved in tact with his walk. He didn't look forward to see the faces of Rome's tyrants again, but they hadno idea.

Instead, he greeted them as he was used to. His hand on his chest, speaking the words.

"I greet you, my Emperors. Nubia is no more. I present a new victory to you, to the realm and to the Roman people."

With a proud look on their faces and a wide smile, the twins stepped forward. Emperor Geta hold the laurel wreath of victory in his hands and places it on top of Acacius' greying hair.

"And Rome rewards it's heroes with gratitude and admiration. We bow to your victories, General Acacius."

With those words, he offered him to turn around and face the celebrating crowd. Geta and Caracalla took their places at his side, giving him a moment of spotlight, applauded by the people, while they did benefit from it as well. Acatius was their general, their armored knight. Every victory he presented was another triumph for their own reign and power. After the earned celebration in front of the common folk, the Emperors and Acacius retreated inside, where servants quickly served them wine for a toast.

"Another great victory, you never disappoint us, dear Acatius," Geta expressed and hold his glass up for a toast, his brother Caracalla following the gesture. "To the glory of the Roman Empire".

"To the glory of your reign", Acacius lied and took a sip from his glass, trying to numb himself a bit with the taste of the alcohol. How he hated conversations with both of them.

" But don't get too comfy here, my brother and i were already discussing another campaign soon. You'll get everything you need, just tell us how many soldiers and ships and it will be granted," Geta explained, which left a bitter taste in Acacius mouth. His jaw clenched for a moment, while he tried everything not to show his distaste about another war campaign.

"Please forgive me, my Emperor, but isn't the realm big enough already? Rome has already difficulties to feed the people. Further expansion would-"

"They can eat war", Emperor Caracalla threw in with an almost diabotical grin, while Acacius got a warning eye from Geta. It was clear that his words weren't the ones both wanted to hear right now.

"Don't worry about things like that, Acacius. You're a military general, your job is to win battles - nothing more. Do you understand?"

"I understand," he answered, even though he hated to hear that he was reduced to this. He'd experienced war and peace alike and therefore he knew about the dangers of continuing this madness. Moments like this really let him question if those maniacs were of the same blood as Septimius Severus.

"But you're right, you've earned yourself at least a bit of rest - one or two weeks. Don't worry, we've taken care about the wellbeing of your family. They got everything they needed and more in our attempt to show our gratitude for your service to the throne. Speaking of which.... we expect you to join us for a great feast tonight - here in the palace. A party to celebrate your victory, it is accompanied by a couple of fights in the arena tomorrow," Geta explained joyfully, while Acatius tried to keep his mask up.

"I am incredibly honored, but would prefer to spend time with family after being away for such a long time."

"The Emperors show you their gratitude and you're insulting us. We expect you to come and you will come", Caracalla hissed with a sudden shift of tone, his eyes staring at Acacius in clear anger, while his brother placed his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. But his staring eyes were warning Acatius once again.

"Of course, we don't just invite you, but your whole family. Bring your wife and... you have a daughter, if i'm not mistaken? We haven't had the pleasure of getting to know her yet, since you never brought her to any festivities. I am sure she will be delighted, if you don't plan on hiding her again."

Acacius stood there in silence, a reaction that made Caracalla burst out into laughter as if he'd just heard the funniest joke from his brother. The respected general didn't even look at him, why should he. Standing here in front of them should've been an honor, yet it felt like a disgrace. They were nothing but spoiled kids with the power of an empire in their hands. And now they even forced him to reveal his dear daughter to them. Something he tried to avoid for too long, knowing fully well about the debauchery and excessiveness of Geta and Caracalla.

"We're waiting for an answer, Acacius?", Caracalla purred with a wide grin on his pale face, revealing his gold tooth.

"It will be an honor to be your guest... together with my daughter."

_____________________________________________

You watched the face of your father sunken away in his thoughts, as you made made your way to the palace in a palanquin carried by a couple of slaves and protected by soldiers. The city was painted in darkness which made the palace seem like a temple with all the lights that welcomed you. It was an exciting moment for an upper-class lady to be a guest at the palace, especially for you, a woman that usually stayed away from the most parties. Not because you wanted to, but because it was an order from your father. You obeyed, yet it bothered you, even more when you'd reached the age of a young woman - the age in which it was expected from you to find a proper husband.

"Why are you so worried, father?", you finally managed to get off your lips, pulling Acacius out of the battle he fought in his head. He couldn't just tell you that he despised all of this and especially the Emperors himself as he couldn't be sure if someone outside this palanquin could hear him. So he simply took your hand and placed a soft and caring kiss on the ring that had been a present for your last name day.

"I guess I'm rather tired than worried. The parties in the palace are always quite excessive, music, dances, feasts... i just came back from the desert and now i have to enjoy all those things", he sighed and looked at you. "And i don't want to stay too long, especially not till the orgy starts. The servants will come and bring us home before that." And even you knew he would rather go and murder Dyonisos himself than allowing his daughter to stay and witness this.

All those words and yet you knew it wasn't everything.

"I'm glad that you take me with you this time. I've only known the imperial palace from afar," you confessed, while you straightened the long, blue dress you wore. It was decorated with all sorts of silver embroidery and jewelry, encapturing the stars and moon. Your long hair was styled by your servant Yanna into a high braid and finalized with a silver diadem. For the first time you really got the chance to make yourself so presentable that you almost felt like a princess. In the end, you were about to meet the Emperors which made it important to look like the woman you were - the daughter of a general. And you also presented his household tonight, because your mother felt sick tonight. She often suffered from migraine, which kept her a prisoner for days sometimes.

"You really look beautiful", your father said to you, it was honest, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes, which you still couldn't grasp. But there was no chance to take this conversation further as the palanquin stopped. Acacius got out first to help you out. He knew the way as it wasn't the first time for him to attent an official ceremony or party here. Through a long corridor you reached a large room with with an open access to the garden terrace facing the beautiful gardens. It was packed with people from the Roman upper-class, wealthy merchants, politicians and military officers, who were accompanied by their wives, sons and daughters. While they chatted and feasted on the large selection of delicious looking food, a group of musicians played their melodies to which professional dancers moved their bodies.

All those private parties at the homes of your friends seemed to vanish straight from your mind, nothing could be compared to what you were seeing now. It nearly took your breath away, while two royals were watching you from the other side of the room.

_____________________________________________

Geta and Caracalla were sitting on a higher ground, which was highly decorated with two golden chaise longues, cushions and velvet drapes. They were accompanied by a selected group of slaves, women and men, who were assigned to bring them anything they wanted, to do anything they wanted.

While Geta was in in a conversation with one of the senators, which clearly bored him according to his facial expressions, it was Caracalla, who noticed the new guest first, while he fed his little monkey Dondus a grape.

"Such a shame that he hid his daughter for so long. She is a gorgeous looking bird, don't you think? ", he whispered to his brother with a mischievous grin, patting his arm so that he would turn his attention to Acacius and you. Geta's eyes quickly went to you, admiring the way your dress hugged the shape of your curves.

"The gods must've sent us Venus herself to honor us with her presence," Geta answered, while an unreadable smile played on his lips. „No wonder our dear General is so protective of her. Is she already promised to someone?“

„Why do you ask me!?“ Caracalla snapped back, as if his brother didn’t know that he had a lot of spies around the city, who delivered him the newest gossip from the streets of Rome. With an annoyed eye roll, he leaned forward, adjusting the golden laurel wreath on his head. „No, she is a blank parchment. Probably untouched too.“

Geta still watched you with an intense interest as if you were a rare diamond, he needed to claim. But he was not the only one in this room, because Caracalla stared at his brother, noticing the way he looked at you. There it was again, the old melody. Whenever he wanted something, Geta wanted it too. They already shared the title of Emperors, their wealth, their whores… It was already something that cooked in him for a long time. But now he had an eye on you and wasn't happy about the fact that Geta might try to get you too.

Before he could even bring this thought to an end, his twin brother Geta already stood up from his chaise lounge and made his way through the crowd, the direction was clear. Caracalla's nose twitched in a mixture of nervousness and anger, and he got up quickly as well, not as gracefully as he wanted to, but he didn’t care. He had to tame the inner urge to backstab his brother before he could even reach you.

_____________________________________________

You still stood at the side of your father sipping on your first goblet of fine wine, while your eyes went over all the different guests and the excessive decor. Your father was sunken in a conversation with another general, Marcus Galbanus, an old friend and brother-in-arms of Acacius. But their conversation quickly stopped as soon as the Emperors approached them. Both your father and Marcus Galbanus lowered their heads and greeted them according to the etiquette, while you curtsied deep. This was the very first time you got the chance to meet the Emperor's of Rome Caracalla and Geta. And given the importance of those two figures, you even felt a little nervous.

"We almost feared you wouldn't show up to your own party, Acacius. But we're happy you made your way here... we already heard that your dear wife lays sick. Please, send her our best wishes. Nonetheless we would be delighted if you could introduce us to your company tonight", Geta demanded in a playful tone, knowing how much Acacius had tried to delay this. Caracalla stood at his side, his staring blue eyes drilled themselves into your appearence. Even though he was a man that had tasted a lot of men and women, one even more sensual than the other, your whole appearence, your face, your lips, your smile, everything - you reached a sentience in his mind that could only be gifted by the gods. The mere thought of having you infected his brain like a curse.

You could sense the tension that raised in your father as if everything in him resisted the situation. Yet he placed his hand softly on your shoulder and did as they wished. "This is my daughter, y/n..."

"I'm honoured to meet the Emperors of Rome", you said in a soft voice, earning you an appreciating smile by Geta and an unreadable grin of Caracalla.

"Oh the pleasure is on our side, my dearest. How do you like this Ceremony in honor of your father's victories?", Geta asked. But before you could even answer, his brother added, while he took another sip of his wine "Your father is a Roman hero through and through, isn't it right Acacius?" His tone had something else in it, almost as if it was some kind of mistrust. But you needed to ignore the irritation you felt and simply nodded.

"It is breathtaking. I've never witnessed something like this and it makes me incredible proud to see the gratitute he earned himself through the love he has for Rome and its people," you answered, trying to remind the Emperor's of Acacius loyality, which was undoubtful.

"Then you'll enjoy the ceremony in the arena tomorrow as well, i'm sure. Please, we invite your father and you to be our guests."

"I don't think that such entertainment is suited for a young woman of her status," your father suddenly interfered in a calm yet set tone, only earning the laugh of Caracalla. "Let your daughter decide for herself, General."

The atmosphere shifted to an unspoken intensity. You could sense your father's worries and given all what you've heard from the colosseum, you didn't really think of it as something worth to witness. Seeing people die in such a terrible way only for the pleasures of the masses seemed like a farce. Acacius always called it the most needless form of brutality amongst humans, he despised this himself and therefore avoided going into the arena whenever he could. But you also read the eyes of Geta and his brother, who waited for your answer and would not accept a simple 'No'.

"It would be an honour," you answered, and Geta leaned forward a bit, which made your father's jaw clench in anger. Not because of your answer, he was aware that a choice was not existing, when facing an Emperor, but because the way the twins looked at you as if you were a price they could simply claim. But you were a smart girl and definitely not naive, so he fully relied on that.

"So this is a 'Yes'?", Geta asked again and you looked him straight in the eyes, not backing off. "Yes."

"Excellent!", Caracalla shouted and clapped into his hands. "We'll have a lot of fun tomorrow."

The corners of Geta's mouth twitched to a smile and he nodded in response to his twin. Yet he hid his displeasure of having him as a rival in this little game. It was clear that Caracalla had layed his eyes on you too, but he won't allow him to simply take and fuck you like you were a common whore. Maybe you could've potential for something more and strenghten his position as well as his popularity. Because both Emperors were still unmarried - and it was expected from them that this would change sooner or later.

[midnightshard06]

Sonic

Sonic grinned proudly. “Well Tails and me have been family for a long time now. Practically raised the kid myself heh. We’re close as you might expect. We also help keep each other in check. He, usually, keeps me from doing anything too reckless and I make sure he actually gets enough sleep and eats at least two meals a day.” He put his hands behind his head before a contemplative look came over his face. “If I have any blood related family out there I have no idea where they are. Not that I really care to find them anyway.” He put his hands down and shrugged. “Plus Shadow, and I guess Eclipse too, is in the picture now. Me and Shadow are on really good terms.” He chuckled. “Spending all that time helping him adjust to earth and doing my best to undo everything he’d been taught to think about himself helped with that. We’re… really close yeah.” A fond smile slipped onto his face for a moment before it slipped into a more cocky grin. “Eclipse is ok too. Fun to mess around with plus he makes a decent game partner when I can’t rope anyone else into it. He’s about just as competitive as me which makes it fun.”

Shadow

Shadow looked down for a moment before sighing. “Well not long after I was created I suppose I only considered Maria and perhaps Black Doom and some of the Black Arms my family. No one else at that point mattered to me. With Maria gone now though… well I find my family has expanded quite a bit. I think she would be happy to know that.” He cleared his throat. “Of course there is what is technically my biological family with Eclipse and the Black Arms. Eclipse is… a lot, but I am happy to have met him. Without his help I fear the confrontation with the Black Arms would have ended in tragedy. The Black Arms now look up to me like a leader, but I believe our relationship is positive.” He crossed his arms and scowled. “As for Black Doom… well he’s dead now so I suppose there’s not much of a point in speaking about him.” His ear twitched as his expression turned into something more neutral. “There’s also the Biolizard, which I suppose in a way could be considered my sibling as well. I… am doing my best to help them. Going back up to the Ark is hard though.”

His expression softened. “Then I suppose there’s Sonic and Tails. The two who took me in and took the time to help me.” He glanced around as if looking for something, or someone. “Sonic and I are very close. I admit I’m not sure what I would do without him at this point. His steady presence has helped me adapt much quicker I think. As well as realize some things.” He sighed. “Tails I’m far less close with but I still appreciate everything he’s done for me. I believe some of my lingering unease with the fox may be due to his connection with science. It… reminds me of the Ark. It’s something I’m working on though.”

Silver

“Oh! I’m really close with my family. Especially my parents.” Silver grinned. “I’m really grateful Sonic and Shadow decided to take me in when they found me all those years ago. It’s a little hard sometimes to get them to let me do things that might be dangerous, but I’ve been working on getting them to downplay their protective steaks for a while now.” He puffed his chest out. “Clearly it’s been working since they’ve let me start going to the past with Mephiles on a regular basis. Plus even before that they’d let me go out and scout the nearby ruins.” He tapped his chin. “There’s also uncle Eclipse. I don’t see him too often but Shadow likes to call him a bad influence on me. I think he’s fun.”

For characters!

If any of you have family, what's your family relationship like?

More character questions!!

[daisymbin]

Hey can i get 41. "you’re staring again—what’s on your mind?" Female reader asking Joshua? Pls thanks🤍

ah!! thank you for requesting!! hope you enjoy this one!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

fluff prompt 41: "you're staring again—what's on your mind?"

it was late, the kind of quiet that only settles when the world has gone to sleep. the warm glow of the table lamp painted the room in soft amber, the kind of light that made everything feel a little more intimate. you were curled up on the couch, a book in your lap, though you hadn’t turned the page in a while.

you could feel his gaze.

joshua sat on the opposite end, his arm draped over the back of the couch like he had nowhere else to be. he wasn’t even pretending to hide it this time, his eyes trained on you with a softness that made your chest tighten.

“you’re staring again.” you tried to sound nonchalant, keeping your eyes on the book. but the words came out quieter than you’d intended. “what’s on your mind?”

he didn’t answer right away. you finally looked up to find him smiling, that small, lopsided smile that always made you weak.

“you.”

just the single word, and it felt like all the air had been knocked out of the room. your heart stumbled in your chest, and you fought the urge to look away, to hide the way your cheeks were surely betraying you.

“me?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“you,” he repeated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “i can’t help it. you do this thing—” he paused, his smile growing wider, almost teasing. “you make everything else disappear. it’s hard to focus on anything when you’re here.”

“that’s—” your voice caught, and you quickly cleared your throat. “that’s ridiculous.”

he laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet space between you. “is it?”

you stared at him then, trying to figure out if he was joking, if this was one of those moments where he was just being joshua—playful, impossible to read. but his gaze held steady, warm and unwavering, and you felt like you were the only thing in the world he was seeing.

“you don’t mean that,” you said finally, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

“i do,” he said, his voice softer now, almost shy. “i think about you all the time. more than i probably should.”

your breath hitched, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say. the book in your lap suddenly felt heavy, your fingers tightening around its edges.

“you… you shouldn’t say things like that unless you mean them,” you said quietly, your eyes dropping to the floor.

“i mean them,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “every word.”

when you looked up, he was closer, close enough that you could see the way his eyes softened, the sincerity in them clear as day.

“so… what’s on your mind?” he asked, echoing your earlier question, though his tone was lighter now, teasing.

“you,” you admitted, the word barely a whisper.

his smile widened, and this time, he didn’t look away.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 14

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.2k

Note : Hey lovelies!! Sorry for those I missed in the tags last time! My notes has been weird latter and I accidentally deleted a bunch so hopefully now you’re all back here again! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Never Ask to be Forgiven”

Saturday.

You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the too-clean white ceiling, your ears trying to find comfort in the beeping that marked your heart rate. The pain was still there, a dull throb radiating from every bruise and cut. 

But that was all. 

You didn’t know what you expected. Maybe some part of you thought the last four years would come back, simply because waking up this time felt so eerily similar to the first. But no—there was nothing. All you had were the last few months. The hurt, the betrayal— the nights spent in Bucky’s arms, the pain that followed.

And then you noticed him.

Bucky sat slumped in the chair beside your bed, his face buried in his hands. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was messy, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy. He’d been waiting for you to wake up.

The moment he noticed you were moving, his hand shot out, hesitating just inches before it reached you. 

“You’re awake,” he murmured, relief flooding into his voice. 

You stared straight ahead. You refused to give him your attention. You didn’t want to give him your time.

“I... I’m so sorry,” he broke the silence, his voice breaking as he struggled to keep his composure. He was uncomfortable, and she was filling in the silence. “I should have told you everything.”

You stayed quiet, your eyes fixed on the wall.

“I was wrong.” The words spilled out of him in a rush. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I was terrified of losing you. But that’s no excuse. I... I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

All you heard was I this, I that. He was begging for your forgiveness, but it wasn’t something he could plead for. It was something you had to choose to give freely. On your own terms.

Slowly, familiar fury rose up in your chest, destroying any trace of empathy you had for him.

“Get out.” The words left your lips before you’d even realised you’d spoken. Your voice was barely above a whisper, yet it didn’t leave any room for debate.

Bucky’s face fell, the sadness in his eyes drowning him alive. “Please,” he tried, his voice trembling. “If you’ll just listen—”

“No.” Your voice steeled. “Out.”

You watched as he staggered to his feet, his hand slipping away from where it had been, hovering near yours. You remained still, refusing to give in to the quiet voice in your mind whispering that you still loved him— more than you had ever loved anyone before.

For a moment, it looked like he might try one last desperate plea. But then, he turned and walked toward the door.

He paused at the door frame, as if waiting for you to change your mind. But you didn’t look away. You held that cold stare until he was gone.

Sunday. 

The knock came quietly at first, as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure they wanted to disturb you. 

You didn’t answer. You had nothing left to give. No words left to say. 

The door creaked open.

Yelena moved with a hesitation you’d never seen in her before—like she wasn’t sure if she had the right to be there. 

You stayed still waiting for her to say something or leave. She did neither.

Instead, she lingered by the door, counting her breaths like she was trying to keep herself together. When she finally spoke, her voice came in the form of a whisper. “I’m not here to make excuses.”

You didn’t respond, resentment still alive in the dark corners of your mind. 

“You probably don’t want to hear this,” Yelena sighed, stepping closer, “but I’ve been sitting outside that door for hours, trying to… gather the courage to come in.”

You closed your eyes, wishing she would just go away. 

“I tried,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I wanted to tell you so many times. But I was afraid. So I projected it on Bucky. And I’m not making excuses for him either but… I think I discouraged him.”

Yelena had to learn the hard way; you can’t force the truth out of someone. Force only breeds fear, and fear makes people say whatever they think will make the pain go away, truth be damned.

She understood that now— that there was something fundamentally wrong about using force in human relationships. But in her defence, it was all she had ever known. The Red Room, the kills she was forced to carry out—they’d taught her that control came through fear. Force became the only reliable tool in her arsenal. 

She realised now, that it was the same for Bucky.

Hydra had stripped away his humanity, piece by piece. Force had shaped him, twisted him into a weapon of someone else’s will. Force has dehumanised him. 

Of course he had resisted when met with any kind of force. Of course he had pushed back.

Yelena wasn’t going to defend him—not entirely. But she couldn’t deny that what he’d done was painfully… human. His reaction had been flawed, but it came from a place of desperate survival— and she understood that better than anyone.

She had failed to see Bucky as human. In doing so, they both had failed you.

You clenched your teeth, refusing to look at her, refusing to acknowledge the sting of her words.

When you finally spoke, your voice was cold. “You were complicit.”

You heard tension in the sharp inhale she took, in the faint tremble in her breath. “I know,” she said quietly. 

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of her face in your peripheral vision. 

“I’m not expecting you to forgive me,” she said, taking another cautious step closer. “I just... I need you to know that I’m sorry.” Her voice broke, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. The sincerity in her voice was unbearable.

You exhaled, pressing your palms into the bed. “I don’t have the energy to fight you right now,” you muttered, the tiniest hint of acceptance forming on your face. You didn’t know if you could ever forgive either of them, but you were tired— tired of being bitter. Tired of feeling nothing but hatred.

A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll take it.”

She pulled a chair over. After a while, she leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “There’s something else I think you need to hear,” she said carefully. 

You didn’t respond, but you didn’t stop her either.

“It’s Bucky,” she said hesitantly. “He… he’s in pieces over you. He doesn’t sleep, he barely eats. And I know he fucked up— but…”

Your breath hitched.

“His heart is yours,” She continued softly, “It always has been. And… and I’ve just never ever seen you as happy as you were with him.”

The words hit you harder than you would ever admit. 

She only ever wanted you to be happy.

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms.

“I know you don’t want to see him,” Yelena added quickly. “But you should just… think about him. For your own sake.”

You didn’t answer. 

You couldn’t.

Monday. 

Today, Sam stepped inside, tablet by his side. He wore his expression as a mask of restraint, not betraying the guilt he felt underneath. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away as he offered you quiet sympathy you weren’t ready to face yet.

Progress had been slow. You’d refused to see anyone but Yelena, but even when she was in the room, you barely talked to her. 

Maybe you just didn’t want to be isolated while you were healing— maybe you just needed a friend.

When Sam spoke, his voice was measured, like he was tiptoeing across a lake that had just frozen over

“I know you’re angry,” he said cautiously. “And you’ve got every right to be. But there’s… something you need to see.”

You wanted to tell him to leave, to stop pulling at threads you weren’t ready to unravel. Anger was easier— simpler. It didn’t leave room for doubt, didn’t force you to come face to face with how complicated everything had become. 

But his words lingered in your mind, demanding curiosity from you. 

So you gave an almost imperceptible nod you gave in response.

Sam crossed the room carefully, like he was approaching a wounded animal. He placed the tablet on your lap, waiting for you to take the reins.

“The first time— when you lost your memories, he sat with you for hours,” Sam said quietly. “That’s— It’s all here.”

When he stepped back, his hand retreated reluctantly. 

Without another word, Sam turned and left, his footsteps fading down the hall until the room was nothing but a bubble of suffocating silence.

You stared at the tablet on your lap.

You wanted to push it away, to leave it untouched, to keep its secrets buried forever. You didn’t want to do this—not again. Not let a piece of technology guide you through fragments of memories better left forgotten. But your hands had other plans. 

You gave in, pressing play. The screen came alive with a flicker, pixels blooming into existence from the void. 

And then, there he was.

Bucky, in the sterile, dim light of a hospital room, looked like he’d been hollowed out. His eyes were red and swollen, dark circles beneath them etched deep into his face. He was holding your hand, his thumb brushing absently across your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “You deserve so much better than this. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I pushed you away because… because I was afraid. But I care about you. I care about you so much.”

The raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes, sent a tremor through your chest. You could see it, the regret laid bare, the desperation searing through him like the pain of an open wound.

Here, he wasn’t hiding. He wasn’t holding anything back. He was just a man, broken and afraid, holding onto your hand like it was a lifeline.

The footage cut briefly, and when it resumed, he was still there with the same clothes, the same tousled hair.

The time stamp showed that a day had passed. 

Here, his voice was softer, more fragile. His thumb was still tracing small circles over your hand. “I’ve been sitting here for hours, and I can’t help but think about how you light up every room you walk in,” he murmured, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “You always found a way to pull me out, even if I didn’t show it. Even if I didn’t deserve it.”

The words felt like a surgical knife had methodically split your heart open, removing the hatred from your body piece by piece before stitching it up again.

You couldn't quite believe— that despite being cold to you then— he had known exactly what you meant to him. 

He’d known, even when he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“I miss you so much,” he choked out, his voice collapsing. He clung to your hand as if it was the only real thing left in the world. “I can’t do this without you.”

Your throat tightened, and you felt tears burning in the back of your eyes. 

He’d spent so long hiding this, hiding everything he felt.

And it all came spilling out when you weren’t even awake to hear it.

Then he looked up, his eyes lost in a distant memory. “Do you remember the time we went on the Latveria mission together?” He let out a soft, shaky laugh. “I thought I was going to be a distraction. You laughed and said I could never be a distraction. You said I was your favourite partner. I should’ve known then that you cared about me… that I meant something to you. And I took you for granted.”

The remorse, the grief in his voice, was too much to bear. 

And then, he said it: a quiet confession of a broken man.

“I love you.”

The screen went dark, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. 

Your heart twisted.

You knew now, deep down, that he was just a man—flawed, broken, fighting his own battles. Sometimes, he failed. This time, he failed you. 

But aren’t failures what makes us all so devastatingly human?

And yes, he failed. But he was also a man who loved you. The man who sat beside you for hours, holding your hand, pouring out every piece of himself in the hope that you’d feel him.

And love is something he could never fail at.

Tears slipped down your cheeks washing away the last shreds of your anger. You couldn’t forget the hurt he’d caused, couldn’t ignore the wounds he drove in your heart, but you could try to understand why it hurt so much. 

You couldn’t deny that you loved him, too—despite everything. And for the first time since all of this began, you felt that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way through the pain.

You could be whole again.

Tuesday.

Today, you were discharged. And today, you went searching for a friend—not Yelena. Things between you and her were still fragile, and you were unsure if you had even forgiven her completely.

Instead, you found yourself back at the museum, sitting in front of Bucky’s old war uniform. The glass case reflected your bruised face, a monument to your present and his past.

Alex sat beside you, eyes furrowed with concern 

"Tell me everything," she said.

And so you did.

-To be continued…

Taglist :

 @hzdhrtss @irisk12 @tayyyystan @seventeen-x @lomlbuckybarnes 

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @avatarofthetimelords @bckynatt @winchestert101 @zemosprincesa 

@nngkay @hiireadstuff @sapphirebarnes @thatesqcrush @bethexo07 

@florie1 @nyutasgirl @coraliix @harrysgothicbitch @jules-and-gemss

@infqnitysblog @isnow-0r-never @roofwitty779 @baw1066 @wasalreadyhere

@cjand10 @greatmistakes @winterslove1917 @calwitch @sebastians-love

@gyllord @brckenmemories @ethereal-witch24 @diffidentphantom

@avatarofthetimelords @lumidotexe @oscarissac2099 @currentfacination @pono-pura-vida

@blackbirdwitch22 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @ayayaeyato @btssaysstudy @unaxv

@otterlycanadian @lifeisbutadream444 @mostlymarvelgirl @ozwriterchick @m1cky-y-y

@ordelixx @jadeofspadesxp @generousmiraclebread @jeremyrennermakesmesmile@titasweetandsour 

@one-lengthiness36 @chimchoom @waitingformysandman @blackhawkfanatic @chaotic-taco-collector-blog

@aurysartstudio @olive-main @purplecolordeer @mrsnikstan @annoyingrebelsoul

@sunnyhummingbee @onelonelybitch @angelichwv @hello-lisa1026 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 

@vickie5446 @portrait-ninja @trocaderoisyummy @walkwithfluffyangels @torntaltos

@dogtorjae @hhiggs @hi172826 @eanthedeadqueen13@starsmoonn 

@notsostrangerthing @wintercrows @chiliwhore @mrsnikstan @bunnygirlwriter876

[chuulyssa]

prince!gojo somehow knows exactly when you need him.

tw nightmares + mentions of a horrible past, angst

the hallway was dark, save for the faint glow of the moon seeping through the cracks in the curtains. most of the house was asleep, and it was so quiet that you could hear the crickets chirp from even the closed windows. you were lying in bed, trying to shut out the unease that gnawed at your insides. it had been like this for weeks — these strange, suffocating hands gripping at your throat, your hair and your feet, pushing you into a cage that was slowly inching towards a floor filled with lava, in front of which sat a large crowd of chattering people, no doubt enjoying the scene of torment. and then the place would evaporate again, showing an old kitchen, burnt food in a plate and torn and stitched hand-me-downs, until you grew tired of the images and forced yourself to wake up.

you squeezed your eyes shut after waking up this way for the twelfth time that night, waiting for sleep to come again, but it didn’t. instead, you only felt the shadows in the corners of your room grow longer, and the whispering voices growing louder, cold fingers brushing the back of your neck. you shook your head vigorously as if to push the ghosts of your past away, but they always came back.

and then, you heard it.

the soft tap-tap of footsteps down the hallway, just light enough that anyone else would have missed them. but you didn’t. you knew those footsteps. they were the ones that always came, no matter how late it was, no matter how much time had passed since you last heard them. the door to your room creaked open quietly, and there he was.

satoru.

he didn’t say anything — he never did — but you felt the familiar warmth of his presence before he even stepped inside. even you could never figure out what dream you would have the next day, but somehow satoru always knew. and you never questioned it.

his steps were quiet as he made his way over to your bed, and you could hear the soft rustle of his clothes as he sat down beside you. he was close now, so close. you lifted your head up to greet him and he saw your moist cheeks. wiping them gently without a word, he tugged the covers back, slipping in beside you. his arm came around your waist, pulling you close, and for a moment, you could breathe again.

“go to sleep. don’t worry about these things, i’m here now,” he whispered softly.

you wanted to argue; you didn’t need to be coddled like a child. but the words never came. you didn’t want to push him away. not now.

you could hear his breath steadying beside you, the rhythm of it calming you. the weight of his arm around you was solid, like it could protect you from anything. and for the first time in the entire night, the nightmares seemed a little less real. the shadows weren’t so dark. the whispers were drowned out by his steady breathing, and him. everything about him. from the scent of his hair to the softness of his palms. it was all him you could think about right now.

“close your eyes,” satoru whispered again.

you nodded against his chest, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt. his thumb stroked small circles on the small of your back, and you felt your body relax into his. his arms, always so strong, were so gentle around you. 

but then, the years passed.

it wasn’t a sudden change, not at first. it was more like the gradual fade of a dream when you wake up in the morning. when one night, you found yourself lying awake, needing him, but the door didn’t creak open.

when you waited night after night for the gentle sound of his footsteps, but they never came. for the way your bed would softly sink when he climbed up on it, but you never felt it again. when you needed him, but he never came.

you couldn’t understand why. was he busy? were the two of you too old to do this anymore? now he had his own life, his own friends, his own world outside of you. but you hated it. you hated the looming shadows laughing at your pathetic prayers to reach him. you hated the hushed whispers that asked where he was now mockingly. you hated the emptiness in your bed more than any nightmare.

and the morning would come, and you would go to school, but he would never talk about the darkness under your eyes. he knew. and yet he never came.

and you missed it. you missed him.

but satoru didn’t come anymore.

[seonne]

Calm after the storm

Very not proofread lols

Silence.

A bone chilling, crushing, heavy silence.

It stretches its claws like sharp tendrils, pricking at his lungs as he tried to breathe. Clammy hands searched the ice cold floor in the dark, grabbing onto anything and everything that isn't a smooth wall.

Until he found a hand.

Gripping it, he grunted as he pulled himself upright. The shallow breaths through his broken nose didn't help slow his pants as he tugged at the hand in the darkness.

A whine should be heard. A hiss should be choked out. But instead, he heard silence.

Dynamight is a man of little to no fears. He's a hero, after all. Number two at that. But the one thing that shakes him to the core is the calm not before, but after the storm.

Specifically, the still calm after a horrible storm.

It's these moments of calm when the devastation truly sinks in, exhaustion not yet settling with the adrenaline still buzzing in his veins.

It's these moments of feeling the loss that he hates.

He groaned in pain as he flexed his injured leg. His hand reached down the mystery hand to grab onto their arm and pull them up onto him.

Who is it? He's not sure.

But whoever it is should not be this still.

"Wake up, damn it..."

He jabbed two fingers near their wrist, feeling around for a pulse. When he really concentrated, a soft thumping brushed against his fingers.

"Hey... hey dumbass. Come on, wake the hell up..."

Nothing.

The radio machine attached to his shoulder straps stopped working after the super sonic wave attack that debauched villain made. His last message was to call for backup, so at least he knew that someone was on their way.

He felt around in his pocket, checking for his emergency light when the person against him groaned softly.

Feeble, weak.

Definitely not on their deathbed.

Cursing at his injured leg for hurting him so much, Pro Hero Dynamight hauled the person into his arms and got up on shaky legs. Feeling around for a wall with his freer hand, he let the wall guide him along towards wherever the hell the exit was. More curses strewn against the cave's walls echoed back to him as he occasionally kept an ear out for any other movements or noises from the person over his shoulder.

Crimson liquid dripped down his eyebrow, falling heavily on his eyelash, making him wipe it on his glove before moving his hand back to the wall. Red streaks glistened along the cave walls. Not that he could see them anyway.

Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Dynamight was willing to bet his injured leg that he's been stuck in this cave for about half a day now.

Excruciating minute after minute, he started feeling like he was in one of those pathetic survival stories. Those stories of people falling down a cave or a manhole and having to be rescued afterwards. But he wasn't like them, no. He's gonna find his own way out, even if he had to lug along this idiot who got caught by that dumbass villain. Chest heaving, determination filled his eyes as he kept walking with his hand along the wall.

Hours must've turned to days, leaving no hope for him to find a safe exit. Then came the doubts: "What if I'm going the wrong way?" "What if I'm going deeper in?" "What if I'm hours away from home?" "What if I've come in so far that backup can't reach me?" "What if-"

No. He had to stop. He wasn't alone in this, he's carrying a nitwit on his shoulder. It probably hasn't been days, this person would've woken up by then. But if it has been days, then...

Suddenly, a flash of something caught his eye. He squinted, having not seen much for so long that he couldn't register if he was actually seeing something. But, sure enough, in the distance he saw a spot of light. A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw the spot grow bigger with more the distance that he covered.

"Fucking finally... About time-"

"Pro Hero Dynamight! Dynamight, sir! Can you hear us? Are you here?"

He scoffed out a laugh as he heard the panicked voices of his sidekicks.

"Oi! Yeah, I can hear ya."

More sighs, exasperated ones and ones of relief. As he approached the mouth of the cave, his eyes registered the numerous faces standing before him, hands extended to take the unconscious person off his shoulders and towards the paramedics. Their faces scrunched in pity and worry as they rushed the person to the ambulance.

Dynamight sighed heavily as he sat down on one of the makeshift chairs he was provided and unscrewed the water bottle his sidekick gave him.

"Finally... I thought I'd never get out of there. My wife would've been so upset if I died disgracefully in a rotten cave. Can't wait to fucking go home already..."

The sidekicks exchanged worried glances at each other which the Pro Hero promptly noted.

"What? Did she call or something?"

From a distance, the panicked voices of the paramedics could be heard.

"She's flatlining!" "Quick! Get the defribillator!" "It's not working, we're losing her!"

Dynamight turned his head towards the panic in shock.

"Shit, is the person dying? I knew there was something wrong with them... Let me go check-"

"No sir! I-I mean you should probably stay here, one of us will look over them!"

His sidekick chuckled nervously and slipped towards the chaos, another one of his sidekicks sitting beside him instead. He cocked a blonde brow at the nervous sidekick but sighed and turned his face, hoping for the best for the person he rescued.

"Did my wife call or anything when I didn't get home on time?"

The rookie cleared his throat as he squirmed beside him. Dynamight frowned, frustrated but unsurprised.

"Well? Just open your mouth and speak up! Did she?"

The sidekick shied away from the piercing red gaze of his superior as said superior's patience ticked like a clock.

Just as he was about to explode, a paramedic approached him with a solemn look. He lowered his head towards Dynamight.

"I am so sorry for your loss. We tried everything but... they didn't make it."

Dynamight's face fell as a hollowness filled his chest.

Ah.

So the person he saved didn't make it.

He nodded at the medic before standing up.

"Can I see them?"

The paramedic nodded before guiding him towards the ambulance. Medics were running to and fro around the ambulance, but as he approached them, they all halted to stare at him for a while. Paying no mind to the unwarranted attention, he jogged slightly towards the ambulance and let the doctor guide him inside.

The moment he saw the face of the person, time stopped. The world stopped spinning and everything went zipping past his ringing ears, his eyes welling with blood and sweat. His broken nose healed for a moment's fresh air before bearing the pain of the broken bone all over again and his lungs stopped pricking as he stopped breathing.

The air felt stale, the silence from earlier falling over him again, but this time, broken by the sorrowful voice of a female doctor.

"Y/n Bakugou. Time of death, 23:11."

Phewwww I don't know what came over me. I guess exam season brings out the best in me.

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

𓇻 𝗦𝗠𝗢𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗬 ˢⁱˡᶜᵒ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Short Fic. Romantic/Wholesome. Established Relationship. Somewhat suggestive. You've noticed Silco smokes a bit too often, so you decide to redirect this habit. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; The edits got me so bad. Also, thank you so much for the absurd amount of support for my first post!!

11.22.24

The dim glow of the lamplight casted shadows across the room, Silco seated at his desk with a cigar poised between his fingers. The air was thick with the familiar, acrid scent of smoke. You wrinkled your nose, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

“Do you ever put those down?” you asked, tilting your head toward the smoldering stick. You've noticed the stacked cigar boxes in the trash, growing more concerned with each box. Not to mention, the amount of ash in his ashtray, it was piling.

Silco looked up at you, arching a brow, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

You hesitated, then pushed off the doorway, closing the space between you, floorboards creaking with each step. “Actually, I would. So, I’ve got an idea. A new… rule, I'll say.”

His good eye gleamed with amusement as he leaned back in his chair. “A rule? Do tell.”

“Mhm,” you said firmly, planting your hands on the edge of his desk, looming over his seated figure. “Every time you want to smoke, you come kiss me instead.” You gestured to yourself, festering a cheeky grin.

The smirk on his face grew wider, more dangerous, as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk, covering the paperwork he previously had laid out. “Every time?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Every time.”

“An intriguing proposition,” he mused, extinguishing his cigar in the ashtray. You listened to the sizzling sound it made as he grounded it against the rustic metal. “Very well. Let’s see how committed you are to this… intervention.”

You didn’t have time to prepare for what came next. Silco was on his feet in an instant, his right hand bracing the desk on your left, his left hand gabbing your chin. He pulled you into his lips and captured yours in a kiss that left you breathless, his presence overwhelming, intoxicating in a way no smoke ever could be. You could still taste the remnants of the strong cigar he had smoked seconds prior, ignoring the slight sting you felt in your throat.

You looked at each other, not daring to blink. You could only feel his grin growing impossibly larger.

He pulled back just slightly, his face inches from yours, and murmured, “One.”

You swallowed hard, heart racing as he sat back down, reaching for another cigar.

“Wait!” you blurted out, regretting your choice the second you saw the spark of mischief in his eyes.

“You said every time,” he reminded you, already setting the unlit cigar aside and standing again.

By the fifth kiss in less than ten minutes, you were clinging to the edge of his desk for support.

“Silco,” you breathed, trying to sound stern despite your flushed face, you could feel yourself radiating smoke. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Oh, I’m taking it very seriously,” he purred, his voice low, rough, as he leaned in for another kiss. “The question is—are you?”

You groaned, half in frustration, half in surrender. This was going to be a very long intervention.

By the time Silco leaned in for the eighth kiss, you were certain you had grossly underestimated his persistence—and his ability to weaponize your idea against you. He barely gave you room to breathe, his lips brushing yours with calculated intensity before pulling away just enough to leave you wanting more.

You planted your hands firmly on his chest to stop him, but it was futile. His smirk was insufferable as he tilted his head, observing you like a predator toying with its prey.

“Are you regretting your little ‘rule’ already?” he asked, voice laced with amusement, mocking, even.

“Yes,” you huffed through pursed lips, though your cheeks betrayed you with their warmth. “This isn’t a substitute anymore.”

Silco chuckled, the low sound reverberating through you. “If anything, I’m merely following orders.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he added, “Though I must admit, this is far more satisfying than a cigar.”

“Silco—”

Before you could finish, his lips were on yours again, his hands sliding to rest at your waist. His touch was firm, deliberate, as if he were daring you to challenge him. This kiss was slower, and deeper, leaving you momentarily dizzy. When he finally pulled back, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to shove him away or pull him closer.

“I should’ve added limits,” you muttered in your flustered state, trying to regain your composure.

“You should’ve thought of that before tempting me,” he replied, his tone smooth and teasing. He sauntered back to his desk, picking up the cigar he’d abandoned earlier. He didn’t light it, just turned it in his fingers, watching you. “Now, every time I feel the urge… I’m reminded of how delightful your little rule is.”

You narrowed your eyes, pointing at the cigar. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Am I?” He raised a brow, his smirk widening.

The next few hours were a relentless cycle of him testing your resolve. Every time his hand drifted toward his cigar case, you braced yourself. And every time, he kissed you like he’d been waiting an eternity to do it.

By the end of the day, you were sprawled on the sofa, utterly spent, while Silco sat beside you with an air of triumph.

“You look tired,” he observed, a trace of smugness in his voice.

“You think?” you shot back, glaring at him.

He chuckled, pulling you closer so you were tucked against his side. “You should be grateful. I’ve gone nearly eight hours without lighting a single cigar.”

“Because you’ve been too busy attacking me,” you grumbled, though the warmth of his arm around you made it hard to stay annoyed.

Silco tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His good eye softened, and for a moment, the playful façade dropped. “Admit it,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You prefer this to the alternative.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch despite yourself. “Sure."

He smiled—not his usual sly smirk, but something softer, almost genuine. “Good,” he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Then I suppose we’ll keep your little rule… indefinitely.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest as he chuckled, low and quiet. He might have won this round, but as you felt his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you didn’t mind losing this time.

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

[remiivu]

Ghostly Companion-- Chapter 3

<---- Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ---->

[Ao3]

So sorry for the wait! My ribs are really tender right now so I took an extra day to avoid moving my arms as much.

This is mostly a lot of introspective word-vomit (and adorable Mr. Crawling!) Have fun and enjoy!

When you woke up the next morning, bleary-eyed and limbs heavy, you didn’t quite register the weight on your stomach until it moved, long strands of hair falling directly onto your face and into your mouth.

“Pff–” You spit out, eyes blinking open to see your brand new companion looking delightful and far too energetic for whatever time in the morning it is. 

“Hello!” He greeted happily. “You ∎∎∎!” 

“Good morning…” You manage to groan out, gently pushing the brunt of his weight off your chest and watching as he rolls to your side.

You sigh, taking a few spare moments to fully wake up before hauling yourself up, carefully unwinding the gray arms wrapped around your body. Your morning routine was quick, methodical, and you hardly realized when you finished draping your futon on the balcony to air out until you approached your now-empty tatami mats and only saw Mr. Crawling sitting down patiently. 

You… weren’t quite sure what to do now. Breakfast, maybe? Do ghosts need breakfast? You don’t recall ever seeing Mr. Crawling eat anything at all during your short amount of time together, but maybe that was because his world was a barren wasteland. You certainly saw other evidence of human-eating ghosts in his world. 

Would his behaviors be similar to all those myths and legends– or at least to his fellow ghosts? Getting… human flesh to feed him wouldn’t be easy, if he liked it at all. But, you’d much rather him feast on someone else rather than on your own flesh if your hunch was right. You doubt he’d do much else than nibble at an unimportant limb, but you also never experienced a grumpy Mr. Crawling– or any version of him that wasn’t incessantly pleasant and sweet. He could go crazy, and you, the idiot who housed him and let him cuddle up against your vital organs, would be first in line to his stomach. 

That won’t do. You made it out of a near death-match once already. You’re keeping yourself and your lovely prize of a companion safe and happy. Even if it means having to go elbow deep in blood. While somewhat chilling, the thought bringing up those unfortunate memories, you find it easier to think about knowing that the blood would be from someone you don’t even know. 

An unimportant stranger. A stupid stranger.

Well, finding a person would still take some time. A part of your mind wanders back to the mountains where numerous people are said to have gone missing throughout the year– something to do with another ghost wearing a raincoat and umbrella. An urban legend, but one that’s pretty widely believed in these parts of the city. You don’t find it to be true– after all, you’ve been stuck there before and came out perfectly fine each and every time, so it must be other peoples’ lack of survival skills that killed them out there.

Which was great, honestly. You’d be able to chalk everything up to a nonexistent being. People wouldn’t bat an eye at a nice, young, and good-looking person such as you wandering around in cute looking clothes and ‘empty’ hands. Harmless. A naive adult who was curious and ‘stuck close to the trails.’ You could do that. Besides, it would only be for a few hours every… few weeks, maybe? You imagine harvesting human flesh to be something like cattle– one body would last a very long amount of time in the deep freezer.

Yeah. That would also fit into your schedule, so it all works out. The tedious part would be just finding a loner you could convince to take a run through the mountains to prove their bravery or some random trait like that.

Well, that part can always come later. For now, it was time to settle your needs.

You were hungry, and so you went off to your kitchen after giving Mr. Crawling a brief pat on the head, digging through your fridge for anything you could make.

Your fridge was still full of fresh foods from a grocery trip taken before your whole descent into that world that shall-not-be-named, and it was almost offensive at how nothing really seemed to care about your disappearance, but you could take it out on the food once it gets on a plate. 

You fished out some eggs, rice, and random toppings, combining it into one mixed up bowl and placing it on your floor table as you turned on the television.

A quick offer of a mouthful of your food to Mr. Crawling resulted in his curious face sniffing and staring closely at it before taking the bite– and swallowing it after a few swishes in his mouth. No chewing.

Huh. So, he liked raw eggs? 

You got up to grab two more, swiftly taking your seat on the floor cushion and holding one up in front of his face.

He smiled, inspecting it somewhat. “Object eat?” He asks, poking delicately at it.

You nodded. “You want?” You asked, making a move to show him how the egg was part of the stuff he had eaten.

When he nods, you crack the egg against the counter, holding it above his mouth, ready to break it open. He was briefly– and rather adorably– confused at the action, but opened his jaws wide, showcasing rows of razor sharp teeth.

You didn’t need to pass biology class to know that they indicated a very carnivorous diet. 

You cracked open the egg, letting it drop into his mouth and watching, with mild repulsion, as he swallowed it whole, looking happy and satisfied as he licked his lips.

Well then– raw eggs would tide him over until an actual meal (if he even needs one). Good to know. 

His mouth opened wide once again as you discarded the shell and cracked the second one open, letting it plop into his mouth and go down the hatch.

That was actually kind of fun. A few years ago, you briefly considered getting chickens of your own until you realized just how many eggs a small flock of 3 could produce in a week. Mr. Crawling seems to be an excellent excuse to get some– not after moving out, of course. Well, you doubt anyone here would care if they spot some fluffed up feathers every now and then.

After that brief breakfast, you steeled yourself to continue your normal everyday activities– as if nothing happened.

And you also needed to make an elaborate lie about where you were the past day. You had no doubts that, if you told the truth, you would  be shipped off to an institution and have your companion exorcized within the next 24 hours.

___________________________

Your friends, very concerned, simply would not stop asking you questions and berating your decision to split off from the main group– as if they hadn’t dragged you to the bravery challenge against your complaints.

There were 5 people you needed to comfort. And, there will be about 15 people you’ll need to apologize to for your inability to work– paired with the cordial, expensive gifts and handwritten letter to your boss begging not to be fired. 

Annoying, annoying, annoying.

You patted Mr. Crawling’s head as you searched up the nearest sales. 

At least he was cute. Like a little, loyal puppy. He was so low maintenance outside of his potential human-flesh needs and his desire for attention– which you could most definitely work with. It was nice and relaxing being with him, not having to worry about all the tiny societal rules you had to follow with everyone else. And, now that you were back in your own world, it felt refreshingly nice having someone depend on you instead of it being the other way around. 

You had power here. And it was nice.

“You mad?” Mr. Crawling ask, cheek pressed up against your neck as he looked over your shoulder at your laptop screen, fingers flicking through ads and discount codes with sharp tap tap tap’s that indicated your irritated mood.

“Me not mad you,” You mumbled, hand reaching up to play with his hair. It was nice and soft now, your conditioner having worked its magic. 

“Humans.” You muttered, not particularly in the mood to elaborate.

“Humans?”

“Mhm,” You hum, gently rubbing soothing circles into his scalp and watching, satisfied, as he leaned more of his weight against you.

So, so cute. You couldn’t get enough of him.

<---- Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ---->

[Ao3]

[yuna542]

[6.]

~Pogues to the Rescue~

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader/Oc

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Drama, Action

Warnings: Jellyfish-stings, Swearing, Alcohol and drugs

Taglist: Open

Word count: 2,8K

Summary: The Kook princess is back after a year and reignites the war between Pogues and Kooks on Kildare. But she quickly realizes that after this year, nothing is the same as before. Deception, secrets from the past, and dangerous conspiracies sweep across Kildare, leaving her no choice but to work with the Pogues and her personal nemesis to find the truth and maybe even $8 million. A dangerous treasure hunt begins that turns her world upside down.

Note: Hope you like this part. Let’s say I’m pretty devastated and sad about S4…

Soundtrack:

⏯️Play: Ain’t It Fun by Paramore

“Where you're from

You might be the one who's running things

Where you can ring anybody's bell and get what you want

See it's easy to ignore trouble

When you're living in a bubble”

"Put me down!" escaped me irritably as I drummed my palm on his frighteningly firm chest as soon as we reached the stairs.

I could feel his warm skin close against mine and it was messing with my head.

He just snorted and actually let go of me.

"Wait here! And be quiet!"

Already he had disappeared into the house. I settled down on the step, sighing, since I had no choice anyway.

Only a few moments later he came back with a red plastic box with a white cross on it.

He placed it on the cheap plastic table that looked like it had been stolen from a kiosk where they sold those disgusting fries.

When I looked at it closer, I noticed that it probably was.

"Shit," I heard Maybank mutter, and he closed the box again.

"What?"

I looked over my shoulder questioningly, careful not to turn my upper body.

"It's empty. My dad must have used it all up."

He put his hands on his hips and seemed to be trying to figure out what to do with me now.

"Well, we can definitely go ahead and disinfect the wounds."

Suspiciously, I watched him disappear back into the house and return with a large bottle containing a transparent liquid.

Half of the bottle was already empty.

He sat down next to me on the step and unscrewed the cap.

"What's this?"

I grabbed his hand before he could pour the contents onto my leg.

"Vodka. Alcohol."

He looked at me as if I didn't know what that meant.

"I know what vodka is, dickhead, but is this really a good idea?"

I knew alcohol was used to disinfect, but that's about all I knew about medical treatments.

JJ just shrugged.

"It got 70%. You won't find anything better."

"Yeah, I bet."

JJ gave me an annoyed look, but I just raised my eyebrows provocatively. There probably wasn't even a pharmacy here.

After a moment's hesitation, I finally gave in. What could go wrong?

I could not use an inflammation or infection now.

So I let go of his hand and he began to pour the liquid over my leg.

Immediately a burning sensation shot through my leg, making me gasp loudly.

Several curses escaped me as I waited for the probing pain to subside.

"Now the back," JJ said, and I wanted to punch him in the face.

"On three. One. Two..."

I couldn't even take a breath, when he already had poured the alcohol over the wound on my side as well. The pain was even worse there, and because of the shock I couldn't prepare myself internally.

Reflexively, I grabbed his arm and clawed into it so as not to cry out.

Although I dug my nails into his skin, he didn't make a face, but reached for my hand to squeeze it.

When the pain finally subsided, I pulled my hand away and glared angrily at him.

"Asshole!", I hissed and braced myself to get up from the stairs.

"You're welcome," he replied, setting the vodka down on the table.

"This really should be looked at. I can drive you home so that-"

"No!", I interrupted him harshly, fixing him with my gaze.

There was no way I could go home like this. Rick would just ask a lot of questions and if he found out I was surfing, that I was on the Cut and if he saw JJ to top it all, I'd be screwed....

I'd rather not imagine his reaction.

Astonished, the blond tilted his head and crossed his arms.

Fortunately, he didn't ask any more questions, since he didn't seem to care either.

"Then I'll take you with the others. John B has a first aid kit in the Twinkie and Pope knows what to do. I was on my way there anyway."

Vehemently, I shook my head.

„No, absolutely not!"

At that very moment I staggered and would have fallen forward if he hadn't grabbed me by the wrist.

"You have no choice, though," he murmured, holding my wrist tightly. As he did so, his gaze wandered aimlessly through my face and I noticed the dark green circles at the corner of the endless blue of his eyes.

They were really intense and reminded me of the cloudless sky over Kildare.

Everything in me resisted going to the other Pogues.

For one thing, I was embarrassed to ask for help, and for another, I couldn't let myself be seen there.

If anyone found out about this, I would also be screwed. At JJ's look, however, I realized that I really had no choice.

He clearly seemed to enjoy every second of my sorrow.

I needed help and this was my only option.

He realized that I was admitting defeat and at that, the corners of his mouth lifted a bit. It wasn't until he took a few steps back that I noticed how close he had just been to me.

"We're going on my motorcycle."

He tried to support me, but I fought off his hand. I could still walk myself, even if it was hard.

I didn't want him to think I was weak or needed his help.

So he went ahead and grabbed the keys and I tried to follow him.

"Do you think your friends are really going to help me?", I called out as I tried to catch up to him with a limp.

He glanced over his shoulder at me and tossed the key from his left hand to his right.

"They're going to help you! We're not self-serving kook assholes, after all."

I wanted to hurl a counter at him, but I couldn't think of anything to say. His words hit me because it was true. Hardly anyone from Figure Eight would have even been interested in what had happened to me.

Arriving at the motorcycle, he got on and put the key in the ignition.

The engine howled and rattled away contentedly.

JJ offered me his hand, which I accepted this time, to get on.

His fingers closed tightly around mine and when I was finally seated, he wrapped my hands around his body.

"Hold on tight, princess!"

Then he was already driving off and I actually had to clutch him to keep from falling off.

The wind went through my hair and made it dance around my head.

It wasn't until we turned onto the road after the wooded area that I realized I had been clinging to him tensely the whole time.

Gradually I let go and got used to the ride.

I felt his skin under my fingers and the muscles of his stomach under his unbuttoned shirt.

Directly my fingertips tingled and I fought the urge to run over the contour of his abs while my upper body was pressed tightly against his.

I couldn't focus on my surroundings and had lost my bearings after only a few minutes. Instead, I paid attention only to the amazingly toned body and broad shoulders in front of me.

When had this happened? Just a few years ago, JJ had been just a lanky little daredevil.

The smells of conifers, fresh grass, and salt water mingled into a distinctive nuance known only from the Outer Banks.

Slowly, I began to enjoy the time on the bike and forget about the pain. All too soon, the ride ended at a driveway.

The first thing I noticed as soon as we dismounted was the huge tree with countless branches that had a hammock hanging from it.

I had never seen such a special tree. Like a monster, its branches reached for the sky, trying to grab the clouds.

Or I had simply never paid such attention to trees before.

Behind it, John B's house came into view. Like JJ's fishing shack, it was run down, but still in reasonably good shape.

It even looked quite cozy, if not very luxurious.

As we climbed over the much-too-tall lawn and shrubs, I propped myself against JJ's shoulder.

It was uncomfortable, but my leg was already shaking with exertion.

On the patio sat the rest of the Pogues.

I could make out a large campfire area and the Pogues' old boat.

The property had to be really huge.

Besides, it was really beautifully situated.

Further ahead, the shore began and a long boardwalk led out to a small pavilion out on the water.

Ward Cameron would buy it in a heartbeat and put one of his mansions on it.

"There you are at last! What took you so long?", John B's loud voice rang out from the deck and already his head appeared from behind the sofa back.

"What the hell!" he snapped as his gaze fell on me.

Now Kiara and Pope also looked up. While Pope looked surprised and confused, Kiara looked at my face in disgust.

"What is she doing here?"

Kiara was sitting on an armchair with her ukulele on her lap. Pope sat across from her, tinkering with a fishing line. John B had been lying upside down on the sofa and was now completely perplexed.

"She's hurt. I had no choice but to take her. JB, you still have the first aid kit and that ointment, don't you?" explained JJ, helping me up the stairs.

John B frowned and I was eyed suspiciously by everyone, as if I could detonate a bomb at any time. After what they had done to the Camerons today, that concern was justified.

Kiara put her ukulele aside and straightened up.

With one look at my wounds, she immediately realized.

"Every child knows that this time of year the waters are teeming with Portuguese galleys!"

Kiara seemed upset, yet she stood up and looked at my reddened skin. By now, some numbness was spreading, but the pain did not subside.

"I'm really sorry that I don't have the know-how of a simple fisherman," I hissed, annoyed, and propped myself up against the wobbly railing.

Kiara now looked at Pope, who was also slowly approaching, almost frightened, and eyeing me.

"A simple fisherman wouldn't be so stupid, anyway," now came snidely from JJ, who rummaged in his pants pocket.

I glared at him angrily.

"JJ, what did you do?" asked Pope directly, and I realized that the alcohol had indeed probably not been a good idea.

The blond was now sitting on the sofa where John B had just been sitting. The other Pogue was standing behind Pope with his arms crossed, trying not to get in the way of the two.

"I disinfected the wounds," JJ muttered, putting a joint in his mouth. So that's what he'd gotten at his place.

A moment later, the click of his lighter sounded and he lit it.

"Just like a doctor. I saw it in the movie Pope made us watch!"

"Oh please don't!" it escaped Kiara.

"What? We only had vodka there, so I improvised."

Pope buried his face in his hands as Kiara was about to push JJ off the couch.

"Vodka? Are you out of your mind? You might as well have peed on it! Idiot," Kiara hissed, turning to the other two boys.

"Hey, at least I kind of helped. Could have left her there."

He clasped his hands behind his head and seemed pleased with himself as he blew smoke into the air.

Kiara just groaned in annoyance and pointed at Pope.

"You get the ointment and bandages, please! John B, get ice cubes in a cloth and JJ get a bottle of salt water!"

She threw an empty plastic bottle, harder than would have been necessary against his chest and when the boys disappeared without protest, I had to admit that I admired Kiara for her assertiveness.

I guess she was a kook deep inside after all.

"Come on! Sit down!" she urged me, so I did as she said, since she obviously had common knowledge about jellyfish stings.

Tentatively, I settled down on the sofa and watched as she sat down next to me.

"I don't see any more nettles.... That's good."

"Oh yeah?", I returned sarcastically, whereupon I got a threatening look.

"Don't think I'm helping you because I want to. I just want you to leave as soon as possible."

"Believe me, that's my fondest wish too."

At that moment, JJ came back and threw the water bottle to Kiara. Skillfully, she caught it and unscrewed the lid.

Without a word of warning, she poured the water down my side and then over my calf.

Instantly it burned again and I tried to breathe away the pain.

"You can thank JJ for that. Vodka... Really."

She still couldn't seem to believe that JJ had done that.

In fact, the stinging was starting to subside.

Now the other two returned as well.

Kiara handed me the cloth with the ice, which I eyed in disgust. It looked as if it had last been washed a decade ago.

"Press this on the wounds and the pain should go away completely!"

Tentatively, I did as she said and sure enough, the cold on my skin was liberating. First I pressed the ice underneath to my shoulder blade until the stinging disappeared and only the numbness remained.

Then I put my leg up and placed the cloth on my calf.

In the meantime, Kiara unwrapped the bandage stuff and took the ointment.

"This stuff will make the wounds heal quickly and not leave any scars," Pope explained calmly, leaning against the wall of the house next to John B.

„It's from my mom. Her ointments work like magic..."

„Great", I mumbled sarcastically. Pope immediately looked down on the floor, remembering who I was.

Kiara was now sitting behind me and I winced when I felt her cool fingers on my skin. She carefully probed the skin on my back and I felt like I was on display.

"Watch it," was the only thing she said before she pulled the strap of my bikini open with a flick of her wrist.

Panicked, I held the fabric pressed against my body before it would have fallen off.

Pope swallowed in a panic and turned to face the wall, John B had eyes as big as plates and it took endless seconds before he cleared his throat and averted his eyes as well.

JJ, on the other hand, was looking at me with that amused grin that made me go furious.

Along the way, Kiara spread the ointment on my back.

"The bikini was in the way. I'll bandage this now so the ointment can soak in," she muttered, taking the bandage off the table.

JJ made no effort to avert his eyes and seemed to be enjoying the show. He took a drag on the joint and looked challengingly into my eyes.

"That's very true, Kie! You should really get rid of the bikini completely," he said provocatively and obviously stared at my breasts, hoping to see something more.

Immediately, heat shot up my cheeks. John B cleared his throat loudly again and disappeared into the house with Pope.

It felt like an escape.

"Shut up! If you're not going to make yourself useful, get out of here and start a fire!", Kiara beat me to it and threw the empty water bottle at him again, which he caught this time.

He stood bolt upright and saluted.

"At your command, Captain!" he shouted and winked at me.

By now a huge knot had formed in my stomach, which wouldn't let me throw anything at him in return.

Already he was skipping down the stairs and sauntering down to the fireplace with the joint between his lips.

"He's always like that. Don't worry about it. Every girl he sees, he hits on. You're nothing special."

Kiara fastened the bandage around my body and tied my bikini back on. Even though her voice sounded cool, she no longer seemed so dismissive.

"I noticed that already. Thank you"

Then she began to tend to my leg.

"You really don't seem to like each other?" she said, smirking.

Directly, I shook my head.

"No... He's so incredibly rude and annoying."

"Yes that's true," she agreed, fastening the bandage.

"But still, he brought you here."

I didn't know the answer to that. After all, he just wanted to get rid of me again quickly, right?

⬇️

© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[notiddygothgf]

15. An Affair

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I'm not going home with you. ❞

★ c.w.: domestic violence, confessions (bad ones)

★ a/n: HEY GUYSSSS!! its my day off today and instead of studying I wanted to put somethin' out for my girlies. im ngl, this chapter was so hard to write, but the ending was so worth it. Y'all are gonna have such a love/hate relationship w me after this. Anyway! I hope yall enjoy! Keep those wonderful comments coming! I hope you have all been well. If not, I hope this chapter cheers you up (it prob. wont.)

★ w.c: .5.8k

shameless ; chapter index

PUBLIC SAFETY ALERT:|  Your presence has been requested at Public Safety Tokyo HQ. A mission is being assigned to you.

Seen

The morning air hung thick around the quiet school grounds, carrying a chill that made your skin prickle. Each step forward felt measured, heavy, as you walked alongside your husband, the space between you humming with unspoken tension. He walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze darting toward you now and then, searching for an opening to break the silence. But you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, determined to keep this quiet, to push down the remnants of last night’s argument until you could forget it entirely. Or at least pretend to.

Finally, he spoke, voice soft and wary. “About last night…” He trailed off, pausing to clear his throat as if that might help the words come more easily. “I didn’t mean for things to… go that way. I was just worried. I shouldn’t have…” He let out a short, strained breath, his gaze fixed on the ground.

The apology hung in the air between you, awkward, unfinished, and you felt it tug at something inside you—a part of you that almost wanted to forgive him. Almost.

But the way he’d looked at you, the words he’d said, were still fresh, lingering like a bruise that hadn’t fully healed. A quiet, distrustful part of him had surfaced last night, and even though he seemed sorry now, that part of him was still there, waiting.

You swallowed, keeping your voice steady, measured. “Can we just… do this job?” Your words were a plea wrapped in exhaustion, and you could feel his shoulders slump, the small fight in him deflating in one slow exhale.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Sure.”

The building finally came into view, its pale brick walls rising against the sky like an empty, blank stare. Division 4 waited by the entrance, their expressions serious, their stances taut with quiet anticipation. Aki stood slightly off to the side, his posture rigid, arms folded, his gaze fixed on the school’s shadowed entrance. And even in the cool, gray light, you found him instantly, drawn to that familiar, unshakable steadiness.

You caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, the tension in your chest eased, his gaze steadying you like an anchor. There was a question in his eyes, something soft and understanding, though it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He held your gaze just a beat too long, as if reluctant to let it go, and you felt a quiet understanding settle between you.

“Good morning!” Himeno’s voice sliced through the tension, her warm smile easing the air around you all as she approached. She waved, the familiar glow in her eyes brightening her face. “Glad to see you’re here.”

Your husband shifted beside you, his face flickering with something unreadable as his eyes lingered on Aki before he turned to Himeno, offering her a small nod. Then, as if reminding himself of his role, he extended a hand toward Aki, his expression carefully neutral, voice formal. “Captain Hayakawa.”

Aki’s gaze drifted to the offered handshake, his expression barely shifting. There was a flicker of something—disdain, perhaps, or maybe just indifference. He didn’t bother to hide it. Instead, he straightened, his face a mask of calm detachment as he looked toward the group. 

“Let’s head in,” he said smoothly, his tone level, almost too controlled. His eyes flicked back to you and your husband, impassive. “You’re late.”

Himeno’s gaze flickered from you to Aki, a faint smile tugging at her lips, as if she could read the silent tension, though she chose not to comment. She was sharp that way, perceptive to the smallest changes, though she kept her observations to herself, a quiet ally in the awkwardness.

He’s so hot when he plays captain.

Your husband’s hand dropped back to his side, his face momentarily tightening before he carefully masked it, his expression becoming a careful blankness. He took a step back, composing himself as he fell into line behind you, saying nothing.

Aki kept his gaze forward, ignoring the unspoken friction that lingered in the air, his posture steady, unbothered. But you could sense the tension simmering just beneath the surface, in the slight shift of his shoulders, in the way he held his jaw just a bit too tight.

As the group began moving toward the building, you found yourself drawn beside Aki, his presence a steadying force that you clung to, even as you kept a careful distance. The two of you fell into step, shoulders almost brushing, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cold around you. He kept his eyes forward, his expression giving nothing away, but the quiet understanding between you both was enough.

Your husband walked behind you now, his steps deliberate, and though he said nothing, you could feel the weight of his gaze flickering between you and Aki. There was a guardedness in his posture, a watchfulness that lingered in the space between you all, like he was waiting for something to confirm whatever suspicions still lingered in his mind.

The school loomed closer, its windows dark, reflecting the dull gray sky back at you, and as you approached, a strange, unsettling stillness settled over the group. The building seemed to watch you all with an empty, silent gaze, as if daring you to step inside, to disturb whatever lay waiting in its shadows.

The building swallowed you up the moment you stepped inside, closing in around the group like a mouth with bated breath. Aki’s flashlight flicked on, cutting through the darkness in a narrow beam that skimmed over half-open lockers and scattered shoes left behind in haste. Stray papers littered the ground, pages from abandoned notebooks catching the flashlight’s glow, rustling softly with each step, as if stirred to life by your passing.

You stayed close to Aki, moving at his side, careful not to draw too near but finding comfort in his steady, unwavering pace. Beside him, you could let your own unease simmer beneath the surface, half-hidden, masked by his calm. Every now and then, he shifted the flashlight to scan further down the hall, his expression as unreadable as ever, and yet, in the quiet, a tension simmered. He was prepared, senses sharpened; you knew by the way his shoulder brushed yours in the narrow passage, felt by the slightest tightening of his grip on the flashlight.

Behind you, your husband walked a few steps back, his silence no less present. He didn’t have to say anything for you to feel the way he observed, his eyes moving between you and Aki with a cautious deliberation. The weight of his gaze lingered on the spaces between you, where he seemed to search for something neither spoken nor visible, yet unmistakable.

The halls echoed with your footfalls and the quiet hum of distant lights that hadn’t yet died out completely. The building had the eerie feel of a place left suddenly, like whoever had been here had simply vanished mid-motion. The lockers were open, contents strewn about as if someone had been in too much of a rush to close them properly. Shoes and scattered backpacks lined the floor, small details that added an unsettling familiarity to the strangeness around you. It felt like walking through a memory someone had tried to erase.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Himeno whispered, her voice breaking through the quiet like the flutter of a bird’s wings. She kept close to Denji, her eyes darting around, and he gave a tight grin, though his shoulders were wound tense, his hand twitching at his side.

Aki didn’t respond, just kept his eyes forward, his flashlight sweeping the walls and floor as he led you through the darkened hallways. The silence settled back over the group, thickening as you continued deeper into the building. You reached the cafeteria, its entrance looming before you like the mouth of a cavern. Aki stepped over a fallen backpack just inside, his flashlight catching on the glint of scattered utensils and trays, and Denji followed close behind, moving with a quiet intensity that belied his usual carelessness. He lingered near the doorway, casting a quick glance at Aki before slipping further inside, putting a bit of distance between them as though seeking his own sense of direction, away from Aki’s unspoken authority.

You stepped in as well, your heart beating faster as the room stretched before you in a dim, empty sprawl. Anxiety simmered in your chest, the stillness of the place pressing down harder with each step. It was as if something waited just beyond the edges of the flashlight’s reach, lurking in the corners, lying in wait. You forced yourself to take a steady breath, though the question lingered, unsettling in its quiet persistence: Why hadn’t anything happened yet?

Then, Aki’s voice, low but clear, cut through the quiet. “Do you hear that?”

You stopped, tilting your head to listen. “What?” you whispered, your eyes scanning the dim shadows around you.

“There’s a… ticking sound,” he replied, his brow furrowing as he tilted the flashlight upward, his gaze following the beam to scan the high, shadowed ceiling.

Himeno stepped forward, moving cautiously, her eyes narrowing as she glanced around the room. “I don’t see anything,” she murmured, her tone wavering.

Aki’s attention sharpened, and he moved deeper into the room, his flashlight focusing on the rows of overturned tables and chairs, like soldiers abandoned mid-march. He stopped in front of an industrial oven, the source of the faint ticking that had drawn his attention. He bent down, inspecting it closely before he turned back to you all, his voice tense. “Stand back,” he ordered, gesturing for everyone to move away as he prepared to open it.

The group took a few steps back, a collective breath held as Aki swung the oven door open. The flashlight revealed only empty racks and dust, nothing to suggest any real danger, and yet the ticking persisted, faint but insistent.

Aki straightened, glancing back toward you all with a small shake of his head. “Nothing in there.”

The moment he spoke, a low rumble began, a tremor that sent vibrations through the floor. You looked to him, worry blooming as he took a step backward, his attention still on the others as if to reassure you all—but before he could say a word, the wall behind him burst open with a deafening crack.

Dust and debris exploded into the air, and Aki was thrown forward, his body slammed by a wave of rubble that crashed over him. He fell hard, hitting the ground as chunks of concrete and metal scattered around him. You staggered back, your breath catching as the sound of the explosion reverberated in your ears, muffling everything but the thundering of your own heartbeat.

Your ears were ringing, your head was throbbing, yet all you could think was – Aki.

The moment you saw him lying there, still and silent, everything around you faded into a muted blur. A distant voice, your husband’s, drifted from behind you, sounding strained and far away. 

“I’m here,” he called out, steady but cautious, like he was trying to anchor you, but it barely registered. 

The sight of Aki’s limp body, his chest unmoving, was all you could see. You moved past everyone—blind to the dust, the debris, and even the sharp sting in your own side—your legs carrying you to him without thought.

“Aki!” The shout tore from your throat before you could stop it, raw with a panic you couldn’t hold back. You rushed forward, your hands trembling as you stumbled over the debris, your focus locked on Aki’s crumpled form amid the settling dust – professional names be damned.

Dropping to your knees beside him, you reached out, cradling his head in your lap, your hands trembling as you gently lifted his face toward yours. Your fingers found their way to his cheeks, then to his brow, tracing the slight furrow still etched into it, as though he had fought to stay conscious even until the last moment. He was still warm, but his skin was too pale. It was as if the entire world had come to a halt around you. Somewhere behind, you could sense the others standing in stunned silence, unmoving. How could they just stand there, watching? The love of your life could be slipping away, and they were frozen.

Love of my life…

The thought stopped you cold, a rush of fear and realization so profound it almost hurt. Had it really taken you that long to realize it?

“He’s alive,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, so quiet you could hardly recognize it as your own.

From the corner of your eye, you saw your husband watching, his face tense but unreadable, taking in the scene with a look of guarded apprehension. He didn’t say anything, though you felt his gaze linger as you checked Aki’s pulse, letting yourself believe, even if for a moment, that everything might be okay.

Himeno limped toward you, her face pale and streaked with dust, though her eyes were focused. Denji hovered nearby, his gaze shifting nervously between Aki and the rest of the room, his usual bravado strangely absent.

A slow, mocking laugh echoed through the darkness, slicing through the tension. The sound sent a chill down your spine, and Himeno’s gaze snapped toward the source, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “Shit. He’s here,” she muttered, glancing down at you. “You’re bleeding.”

You blinked, looking down at your side, only just noticing the thick patch of blood soaking through your shirt. A sharp pain throbbed beneath your ribs, and you inhaled unsteadily, trying to keep your focus. You had been so concerned with Aki, you hadn’t noticed that a stray piece of metal from the inside of the wall had embedded itself into your side.

“He’s barely breathing,” you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. “We have to call for help.”

Your ears were ringing, the edges of the room swimming slightly as adrenaline surged and ebbed in rapid waves. Himeno looked at you, her expression torn, her face bruised and her breathing labored. But then she nodded, her decision clear. “Call for help,” she instructed firmly. “You stay with him and keep checking his pulse until they arrive. The rest of you,” she turned to Denji and your husband, “are coming with me. Let’s put this bastard down.”

Nodding, you reached for Aki’s walkie-talkie, your fingers slipping slightly as you clutched the radio and pressed the call button. Your voice cracked as you spoke. “This is… this is urgent. Aki’s down. He’s unconscious, barely breathing. He’s bleeding out—we need immediate backup.”

The rest of the group slipped away – Your husband cast you one final glance before following suit, leaving you and your lover alone with nothing but the deafening silence to accompany you.

The silence that followed felt endless, punctuated only by the faint static from the walkie-talkie and Aki’s faint, irregular breaths. You swallowed, trying to keep your focus even as your hands began to shake.

“Stay with me, Aki,” you whispered, brushing a lock of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his cheek, willing him to open his eyes, to just look at you. But he remained still, each shallow breath a reminder of how close you had come to losing him.

Fifteen minutes later—though it felt like hours—help arrived. Three officers rushed in, their faces taut with concern as they took in the scene. One of them, a man you vaguely recognized, gave you a solemn nod before crouching down beside you, reaching for Aki. His hands were gentle, but the thought of someone else touching him, moving him, felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

“We’ve got him now,” he said quietly, but when he reached out to lift Aki, a desperate surge of protectiveness made you tighten your hold.

“No—” The word left your lips before you could stop it, raw and laced with panic. But they gently pried him from your arms, and the separation felt like a wound opening wide, a visceral ache that made it hard to breathe.

You clutched your bleeding side, your vision blurring as you tried to steady yourself. A thick, aching pain throbbed in your chest as you watched them begin to lift him, every instinct screaming to stay by his side. You had to follow. You had to make sure he would be okay.

“Aiko,” one of the officers said, his voice firm yet gentle, nodding toward the door. “Take them outside.”

He moved beside Aki, lifting him carefully, and without another word, he threw one of Aki’s arms over his shoulder, giving you a brief, determined glance. “Come on. Grab his other side.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, stepping forward and slipping your arm around Aki’s waist, bracing him as you lifted his other arm over your shoulder. The weight of him pressed against you, grounding you, and you forced yourself to keep moving, even as every step felt like a jagged edge digging deeper into your side.

With each step toward the exit, the fresh air grew closer, yet the world felt hazy, every breath heavy with worry and the knowledge that nothing would ever feel certain until he opened his eyes again.

As you moved to lean over, easing Aki into the seat beside you, a sharp, searing pain suddenly tore up your side, fierce enough to make you gasp. Your hand slipped, and you nearly dropped him, his weight sagging as you stumbled back, struggling to catch your breath. It took everything you had to hold steady, to keep your balance, gritting your teeth as you fought to ignore the blooming heat spreading across your ribs.

Aiko, his face furrowing with concern, caught sight of the blood soaking through your shirt. “Shit, are you bleeding?” he asked, eyes widening as he looked from you to the deep red stain.

The pain was settling into something fierce and relentless, throbbing with each shallow breath you took. You nodded, barely able to speak through the tightness in your chest, feeling the sting pulse along every nerve.

Without hesitation, Aiko steadied Aki, shifting his weight to settle him securely into the back seat of the car. Then he turned to you, his tone calm but firm as he took in your paling face and shaking hands. “We’re taking you to the hospital too. Both of you,” he said, cutting off any protest before you could muster one. “Get in the car. Other side.”

The finality in his voice made it clear there was no room for argument, and even if you wanted to push back, your strength was dwindling. You bit down against the pain, making your way around to the other side, sliding in opposite Aki. The weight of the seat seemed to press into your side, aggravating the wound as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You glanced over at Aki, his face still pale, breaths shallow as he lay slumped against the seat.

As the car started up, you shifted carefully, reaching over to lay his head in your lap. The feel of him there—fragile, the warmth of his skin faint against your touch—steadied you. Your fingers brushed over his hair, gentle and soothing, a small comfort as you tried to hold back the trembling in your hands.

Aiko turned to the driver. “Take them both straight to the hospital, now.”

The engine rumbled to life, and the car jolted forward, pulling you away from the scene, the night blurring past as the streetlights flickered over you in a stream of dim light. You adjusted yourself slowly, angling your body to support Aki’s head in your lap without disturbing your wound, even as the pain persisted, gnawing with every bump and turn. But you didn’t care; all that mattered was keeping him close, reassuring yourself with each faint breath he took, each barely-there rise and fall of his chest.

You focused on his face, his closed eyes and furrowed brows, his features softened in unconsciousness, untouched by his usual sharpness and guarded restraint. It was almost peaceful—if not for the bruises beginning to form along his cheek, the small streaks of blood that marred his skin. You reached up, wiping away a smudge of dust from his forehead, the simple act anchoring you to the moment, grounding you in the steady silence of the drive.

The pain in your side was starting to numb, fading into a distant ache as the adrenaline dulled your senses. But the reality of it all—the weight of what had happened, the fear that had gripped you—settled heavily over you like a thick fog, refusing to lift. You leaned back, eyes never leaving Aki’s face, your hand resting gently on his shoulder as the car carried you both toward the hospital, away from the shadows of that place.

In the quiet, with the hum of the engine and the soft darkness around you, it was just the two of you, a fragile peace holding steady as you waited for help, the tension of the night still lingering but softened by the small, steady assurance of his presence in your lap, the nauseating fear as you whispered again, 

“Stay with me, Aki.”

The moment you had been cleared to leave the hospital some three or four hours later, you found out what room Aki was staying in and rushed right over. There he was – stable, albeit not in very good shape. He was still asleep (which the attending nurse had said something about earlier, something along the lines of a medically-induced sleep). His skin was a little more colorful now, but still pale. He was donning the same hospital gown you had been wearing a few hours earlier, hair down out of it’s typical style and splayed out over the pillow. His vitals were being monitored on a screen on the other side of his hospital bed – an IV dripped syrupy-looking medicine into his veins.

He was achingly beautiful, even now. You stood off to the side of his bed, arms crossed nervously over your chest, fingers being chewed by your teeth. You didn’t know how long you had been waiting there – hell, you hadn’t even checked your phone since you had been discharged.

A pit in your stomach made it impossible to eat, even if you had certainly worked up quite the appetite. You didn’t want to leave his bedside, even for a moment. Any moment, he could slip away – slip through your fingertips and leave you for good (even if the doctors told you he was stable).

You stood at Aki’s bedside, rooted in place, the room spinning slowly around you as the weight of your own feelings sank in, cold and unstoppable. You’d been forced to confront it back there in the rubble, but now, with him lying so still before you, there was no denying it. Aki was the love of your life. 

The realization hit you again like a wave crashing over your head, pulling you under. He was it—the person you’d been circling, moving toward all this time without even knowing it. And if you lost him, you didn’t know how you’d survive it. The thought alone was enough to make the air feel thin, the walls closing in as you struggled to catch a full breath.

Aki looked almost serene under the fluorescent hospital lights, his face softened and bare, no longer hidden behind his usual quiet guard. His hair lay messily across the pillow, spilling across his forehead, casting delicate shadows over his cheeks. He looked painfully beautiful, achingly real in a way that left you feeling raw, vulnerable. And you knew then that you had been clinging to him, maybe all along, without even realizing it. There was something in his presence that grounded you, something you couldn’t name, but now that you had it, you didn’t know how you’d live without it. Without him.

A hollow ache twisted in your stomach, and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest, as if you could keep yourself from unraveling entirely. What if you’d lost him before you ever had the chance to tell him—before he knew what he meant to you? The thought stabbed at you, fierce and unrelenting. You tried to imagine a world where he wasn’t here, where he’d slipped away in those moments of silence and chaos, and the thought alone felt like stepping into an endless void, cold and unforgiving. 

What would you do if he left, if he was gone? How would you wake up each morning knowing he wasn’t there, wasn’t just a few steps away, grounding you in the only way he knew how—without even trying?

You swallowed hard, biting down against the well of emotions, feeling the sting of it all build in your throat. Your fingers trembled, itching to reach out, to grasp his hand, to feel the pulse of life beneath his skin. But you couldn’t bear it—couldn’t bear to feel the fragility of him, couldn’t stand the thought of his warmth fading, of his presence slipping away from you forever.

It was the one thing you couldn’t lose. Not him. 

And as you stood there, heart pounding, head spinning, you swore that if he woke up, you’d find a way to make him understand that—how much he meant to you, how deeply he had become a part of you. How he was the only one who ever truly had loved you.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Without waiting for an answer, the door slid open, and in stepped Tanimoto, brown eyes somber like he knew he was the last person you wanted to see.

You looked at him, and suddenly, your mouth ran dry. What more was there to say? One look into his eyes, and you knew there was no need to clarify.

He understood, now. Everything.

He cleared his throat, “Hey.”

“Hey,” You said back, voice hoarse from all of the crying you had done before he came, from shouting Aki’s name the moment that wall blew up. “How’d the mission go?”

It was then that you realized – you couldn’t possibly have been less concerned with his well being on the mission since he had left you there with Aki in your arms, too preoccupied with the state of your lover to care.

“It went alright,” He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t dare to move any closer, standing a considerable distance away from you, like he wasn’t sure whether or not approaching you would be the best idea. “It wound up being the school lunch devil, or some shit like that. A real small fry, but he wound up having a piece of the gun devil’s flesh. That would explain the…” He glanced over at Captain Hayakawa’s sleeping form, wincing at his condition, “Explosion.”

There was a pause. A long, drawn out silence, during which neither of you made eye contact. Your husband was the first one to breach it.

“Look, I was going to apologize about what I said last night, but… after today– after what I saw back there, I… I’ve been thinking of what I’d say to you,” He finally – finally – approached the elephant in the room, avoiding your gaze the entire time (not that it left Aki). He paused again to release a trembling breath. “Am I… mistaken? About you and him?”

Your eyes began to water before you knew it. It was as if everything from the past few hours – past few days had finally come crashing down on you. In one heart-aching moment, the world you had spent all of your time building up – the lies, all of it – came to a standstill. 

And it was then that you realized you didn’t have the strength to lie to him anymore. Not when the love of your life was sitting right there.

So you swallowed the lump in your throat, taking a moment to build up the icy resolve you desperately needed before you answered slowly.

 “No. You’re not mistaken,” You breathed. “I’m his mistress. I’m having an affair.”

And there it was.

The words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible, cutting through the sterile quiet of the hospital room. You could see the impact ripple across his face, a flicker of pain breaking through his carefully maintained calm before he composed himself again, pressing his tongue into his cheek as he nodded, slow and mechanical. The look in his eyes sharpened, darkening to something you could hardly recognize, and a tremor of fear crawled up your spine.

You had expected this moment to feel like some kind of release, like pulling off a bandage and letting the wound breathe. But as you looked at him, at the silent fury and restrained hurt carved into his features, a different kind of fear settled over you—one that made your body tense, instinctively bracing for whatever he might do next.

You couldn’t stop the shaking. It started in your hands, then moved through your shoulders, until your whole body felt unsteady, as if it could collapse under the weight of what you’d just admitted. The question pressed itself into your mind, unbidden: would he hit you? Here, in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space with Aki lying beside you? It felt like a violation, the idea of violence in a place that was supposed to be safe, where people came to heal. But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it wasn’t impossible.

To your shock, though, he didn’t raise a hand. He only let out a slow, exhausted breath, his shoulders slumping, as though the anger was something that would consume him from within rather than burst out. "I knew it," he muttered, his voice tight and shaking. He swallowed hard, but there was no break, no moment of hesitation as he spoke again. “I knew it from the start, but I thought—” He cut himself off, staring at you with that cold, assessing gaze that felt like he was searching for any sign of regret, any hint that you cared about what this was doing to him. “You don’t even sound the least bit sorry about it, do you?”

There it was—a blow sharper than any slap or strike, his words digging in deep, meant to hurt. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came, just a hollow, empty ache that left you frozen. Because the truth was, no matter how you tried to twist it, he was right. You weren’t sorry. Not about loving Aki, not about the way you felt when you looked at him, even lying in a hospital bed, his face softened and beautiful in the stark light.

“I’m not. I don’t regret it,” You retorted, a little bolder, now that the cat was finally out of the bag. What more was there to lose? Straightening your shoulders, you added, “We’re in love.”

He glanced at Aki. A cold, humorless laugh left his lips. When he glanced back at you, there wasn’t even an ounce of affection for you – all that was left was hatred, the same hatred you felt for him.

Before you could part your lips to speak again, he was craning his hand back – then there was a familiar sting.

He had hit you. Again.

And the worst part was that you couldn’t even bring yourself to oppose it. A moment of sickening silence passed before he spoke again.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He spoke calmly, calculatedly, but you could hear the anger that seeped through his words. “This will be the last time you see him. You are to never speak of him again, or of this, and in exchange, I’ll let you keep the money and the house… and your life back at home.”

You swallowed, refusing to let him see the full extent of the hurt. It was nothing you hadn’t weathered before. And besides, the pain only sharpened the resolve forming inside you, stealing something that had felt soft, uncertain before. You weren’t backing down this time.

He watched you with an icy expression, something gleaming in his eyes that made you feel small, like a child being reprimanded, caught out in a lie you could barely understand. You gnawed the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your eyes stung. He’d hit you, yes, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the hollowed-out feeling that had grown deeper with each beat of this tense, bitter silence.

His voice was sharp as he leaned in, his words clipped and venomous. “You can see him this one final time, and then it’s over,” he sneered. “That’s what you wanted, right? To see him?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and without thinking, you shot back, “Yes, but not to say goodbye.”

He stilled, his expression darkening, mouth twisting into something half incredulous, half enraged. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

But you’d started now, and there was no way to take it back. The words spilled out, gathering momentum as you spoke, voice steadying with each syllable. “Yes,” you repeated, stronger this time, voice firm. “But not to say goodbye.”

He looked at you like you were unhinged, something unfamiliar and unfathomable to him, and his lip curled with distaste. “You’re insane,” he spat, barely keeping his voice in check. “You’re hopeless. You’re married. It’s time to wake up and go home.”

The word married twisted inside you, feeling more like a chain than a bond, something cold and suffocating. And in that instant, as he spat the word out, you knew there was no future left here, no home in this hollow arrangement he was calling marriage.

And then, you dropped the second bomb of the evening.

“I’m not going home with you.” Your voice was quiet but clear, the words like iron. You felt something break free within you, some final tether to the life you’d been clinging to.

“I want a divorce.”

a/n: MUAHHHHHAHAHAAA!! OH MY GODDDD. it feels so good to finally write those words, you guys have NO idea. sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger, tho, you know i couldn't resist. To think that hours and hours and hours of my time have been poured into reaching THIS moment. Omg. We're reaching the climax of the story! Please let me know what you guys want to see happen before the story ends in the comments, or just drop by and say hello. I hope yall are as hyped for the next chapter as i am. Will y/n stand her ground? Or will she pussy out? Who knows (I do)? Stay tuned!!! Q of the Day: have you heard Rauw Alejandro's new album? (If not, what are you doing?)

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index