#look I do not control what people get off to

[sarbithewizard]

And then, the world went mad...

Before I would've said the world would go out in a nuclear blaze or something otherwise generically apocalyptic like that. Survival scenarios were always fun to think about in those kinds of settings. Then I stepped outside to go to work and the house across the street blew up. The wildest thing? I'm pretty sure I saw Susan flying into the distance wearing a blanket like some kind of sugar glider, but got distracted by her car hood banging to the road like it had been launched from the roof. I called the police to report the explosions and subsequent fire, but the operator just started flirting with me. Creeped out, I hung up and tried again only to get raucous laughter from someone else. I went to get a hose and maybe do something when I heard gunshots. GUNSHOTS! Gunshots in my sleepy little suburb, and I'm convinced they were shooting at me! What did I do?! I ran to my car and took off, console pistol in hand because I had no idea what was going on. I drove to my friend Dave's house, but he seemed bored by the madness I frantically described seeing in my trip over. "Time-loop, bud. You're lucky I stuck around this time to see you. Damnedest thing. I think you're the only one that doesn't know. Made me kind of a celebrity for a few years there, but now you're novelty has worn off. Oh, you'll get some attention still, but the North American Free People's Society has laid down some protection rules around you, but it's not like we can enforce any infrastructure in the beginning. Good luck with Today! I'll see you again Today." He just got up and walked out. He seemed listless about the whole thing. Strange accent as well. I found his corpse a few hours later. I'm still trying to convince myself that some worldwide mass hallucination happened, because I can't otherwise make sense of everything. Dave was right though, which makes it harder to believe. I ran into plenty of would-be-lovers, plenty of whackos trying to kill me, and quickly had a bodyguard contingent from this NAFPS group who shot a lot of people between casually chatting with me and maintaining a perimeter. I guess they have a daily rotation and it's considered some kind of honor.

Then the next day came.

There were all kinds of reactions. Orgies in the street, mass suicides, plenty of weeping in both joy and terror. Before no one wanted to talk to me about it anymore, probably because of all the questions I kept asking in the early days, I learned that everyone was in there for hundreds of years. Certainly explains some of the wild skills I saw from people who otherwise looked like normal service workers or business drones. It seems some considered themselves immortal, and being confronted by Tomorrow shook most up. The NAFPS is still around in some capacity. It seems there were groups that were preparing for Tomorrow all over the place, but never really expected it to come. It was clear who truly believed soon enough, from my perspective. I work with them as thanks for protecting me the day the world went mad, and I'm starting to believe them. This is all too orchestrated to be anything fake or hallucinated. It's just so hard to believe, you know? It seems that my celebrity status in the strange world I missed out on makes me a relatively trustable party for negotiations. I've been shipped to neo nation-states across the globe like the NAFPS as a kind of emissary of the world that was. To me it was just last Thursday, but I guess to them, that's when the world really started. I still miss Dave.

-Reflections from the diary of control entity, Jay, in simulation iteration 166,440. It can be noted that human society is starting to become stable, post-resumption. This researcher believes this to be a solid sign we are past the primal anarchic tendencies of the prolonged mortal persistence in a zero-consequence environment and refutes the claim of inherently chaotic nature in the species. Albeit did take several hundred years. The concerted effort to keep the control entity alive as a living monument to their culture and former society is of particular interest to this researcher.

Apparently, you are living in a time loop. Also apparently, you are the only person on Earth who DOESN'T remember the previous iterations. This is the first time you've experienced today; the rest of humanity has been stuck reliving today for years now.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Phainon x Dragon-shifter!Reader

[1] [2]

Life in the palace was… tolerable. At least, that’s what you told yourself. The first few weeks were spent adjusting to the strange, lavish reality of your new circumstances. Gold-trimmed halls, velvets and silks, meals so decadent you almost forgot to glare at Phainon across the table. You weren’t a prisoner, not exactly, but you were watched.

By him.

Phainon made it clear, whether with a teasing smirk or an almost obsessive gaze, that you were his. Not the kingdom’s, not the king’s, his. And he seemed thoroughly entertained by every struggle you put up against it.

So when he invited, no, insisted that you accompany him to the royal gathering that evening, you scoffed.

"I’m not going." You flopped onto the ridiculously soft bed in your chambers, arms crossed. "Why would I want to be in a room full of self-important humans?"

Phainon leaned against the doorframe, watching you with that insufferable knowing look. "Because," he drawled, "it’s a grand event. Important figures, music, fine wine…" His lips curled as he added, "Gold."

Your ear twitched.

He noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed.

"Jewels," he continued, casually inspecting his glove. "Rare artifacts. The kind only royals and the wealthiest nobles possess." He stepped closer, voice dipping. "And if you come with me, you’ll have access to all of it."

A trap. A beautifully spun, shiny trap.

Damn him.

You grumbled but stood anyway. "Fine. But if I get bored, I’m stealing something."

Phainon’s smirk widened. "I’d expect nothing less."

The palace ballroom was a vision of excess. Chandeliers dripped with light, silk banners lined the high walls, and every noble present sparkled—adorned in the very things that made your dragon instincts itch.

You stood beside Phainon, dressed in finer clothes than you’d care to admit looked good on you. Your gaze wandered, catching sight of an elaborate golden goblet, a necklace encrusted with sapphires, the ridiculous amount of wealth these people hoarded.

"You’re staring" Phainon murmured, his breath warm near your ear.

You flicked your tail slightly (hidden, of course, beneath your elegant attire, sometimes there are moments when you lost control of this power). "I’m admiring. There’s a difference."

He chuckled, but before he could say anything else, a noblewoman suddenly stepped between you two, cutting him off.

"Your Highness" she greeted, her eyes bright with something too eager.

Phainon didn’t even blink.

"Move" he said with a smile—not the charming kind, but the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

The noblewoman hesitated, flustered. "Do you—"

"I said move." His tone dropped, sharper this time.

The lady’s confidence faltered instantly. She swallowed, fear creeping into her delicate features before she quickly stepped aside, bowing slightly before scurrying away.

You arched a brow. "Really?"

Phainon turned back to you smoothly. "What? You were waiting for me."

You sighed, shaking your head. "Possessive much?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Yes." No shame, no hesitation.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back, he leaned in, voice low enough that only you could hear.

"Now, tell me, little dragon…" He gestured subtly to the vast, glittering hall. "What shall I steal for you?"

You blinked at him.

Then, slowly, a smirk of your own formed.

Maybe this party wasn’t so bad after all.

The party continued in its extravagant splendor, but you had long since grown bored of the shallow conversations and glittering excess. You didn’t deny that the shiny things were a good distraction, but Phainon had been hovering around you like a wolf with its prize all night, scaring off anyone who so much as looked your way.

It was amusing at first—until you realized he was serious.

"Are you actually keeping people away on purpose?" you asked, sipping a wine so rich it made your head buzz pleasantly.

Phainon tilted his head as if contemplating it. "I wouldn’t say keeping away…" He trailed off before smirking. "More like… ensuring they know you’re spoken for."

You nearly choked. "Spoken for?"

His fingers grazed your wrist lightly, just enough to make you aware of the heat behind the touch. "It’s only fair. You took me from my home first, little dragon. Now, I’ve taken you from yours."

You scoffed. "That is not the same thing!"

He merely hummed, tilting his goblet to his lips.

Before you could argue further, one of the royal advisors cleared his throat from a short distance away. Phainon sighed, rubbing his temple as though he already regretted what was coming next.

"It appears my duties are calling" he muttered, sounding utterly unenthusiastic.

You smirked. "Oh no, the burden of royalty" you teased. "How tragic for you."

He cast you a dry look before leaning in slightly, voice dropping. "Behave while I’m gone, won’t you?"

"Depends." You grinned. "What’s in it for me?"

Phainon chuckled, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch before he straightened. "Later, little dragon" he murmured, his voice promising more than just words. Then, with an effortless grace, he strode away toward the cluster of waiting nobles.

You rolled your eyes, exhaling before deciding you needed a break.

The ballroom was getting stuffy, and the suffocating air of human politics wasn’t doing you any favors. So, you slipped out onto the grand balcony, the cool night breeze instantly refreshing.

Leaning against the railing, you stared at the sprawling royal gardens below, the torches casting golden light onto the neatly trimmed hedges. You let yourself breathe, letting go of the lingering heat from Phainon’s infuriatingly charming presence.

"You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself" a voice chimed in, lighthearted but not unkind.

You turned to see a young nobleman standing a short distance away, hands in his coat pockets, looking at you with casual curiosity.

Unlike the others at the party, his expression wasn’t filled with arrogance or ulterior motives—just simple friendliness.

"Not much for royal gatherings?" he asked, stepping closer.

You shrugged, glancing back at the stars. "Not much for being paraded around like a trophy" you admitted.

The nobleman chuckled. "Understandable. These events can be suffocating." He tilted his head. "I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Elias."

You hesitated for only a second before replying. "I know."

Elias blinked. "You… do?"

You smirked. "I make it a habit to know who’s hoarding all the gold in the kingdom."

He laughed, shaking his head. "And here I thought you were just admiring the view."

You leaned an elbow against the railing, giving him a mock-thoughtful look. "Well… you do seem to have an impressive collection of artifacts in your estate."

Elias arched a brow. "Are you implying you’ve been to my estate?"

You grinned, tilting your head slightly. "I’m not implying anything."

Before Elias could reply, a sudden cold presence crept up behind you.

Phainon.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Elias straightened slightly, suddenly looking far more aware of the prince’s looming presence. "Ah—Your Highness."

You sighed, tilting your head back toward Phainon. "That was fast. Did you threaten them all into silence?"

He didn’t take his eyes off Elias. "No. Unfortunately, they kept talking."

Elias cleared his throat. "I was merely keeping your companion entertained, Your Highness."

"How kind of you."

You stared at him. "Are you serious right now?"

Elias wisely took a step back. "Well. It was a pleasure speaking with you" he said smoothly before giving a polite nod and slipping away.

Phainon finally turned his attention to you.

You arched a brow. "Really?"

He smirked. "You looked too comfortable."

"And?"

"And I didn’t like it."

You scoffed. "Possessive much?"

He didn’t even hesitate. "Yes."

You sighed dramatically. "I can’t believe I let you lure me here with gold."

Phainon chuckled, brushing his fingers against your wrist before lifting your hand in his. His lips hovered just above your knuckles, his eyes locked onto yours.

"You walked into the trap willingly, little dragon."

Your heart gave a traitorous thud.

Damn him.

Damn him twice.

You yanked your hand back, turning toward the ballroom with an exaggerated huff. "If I’m stuck here, I expect more jewels."

Phainon’s laughter followed you inside, smooth and pleased. "Oh, don’t worry," he murmured. "You’ll have more than enough."

You weren’t sure whether that was a promise or a threat.

Maybe both.

And maybe… you didn’t mind either way.

-----

The battlefield was chaos.

Steel clashed, arrows darkened the sky, and the scent of blood mingled with the smoke rising from burning siege towers. You soared above it all, your massive wings casting a dark shadow over the fray.

War was ugly, but it was efficient. And you were very, very efficient.

With a single beat of your wings, you sent enemies flying. Your claws tore through siege weapons, your fire turned their defenses to ash. The battlefield trembled beneath your wrath, and you reveled in the destruction.

But your eyes were always watching him.

Phainon was a vision of carnage below. Blade flashing, movements precise, each strike calculated and lethal. He fought like he owned the battlefield, like it was just another ballroom and he was leading a deadly waltz.

He was infuriatingly reckless, of course. You had lost count of how many times you’d had to clear his back, burning down attackers before they could even get close to him.

And then, from your vantage point, you saw it before he did. A shadow moving too fast. A soldier—no, an assassin—emerging from the smoke, blade aimed straight for Phainon’s unguarded side.

You roared, diving down, but you were late.

The blade sank into Phainon’s side, his body jerking slightly from the impact. But instead of collapsing, he turned, his own sword flashing as he slit the attacker’s throat in one clean motion.

He staggered back, blood soaking into his armor.

Something snapped inside you.

With a furious snarl, you unleashed a wave of fire that devoured the remaining enemies in an instant, scorching the earth itself. Any who dared to stand in your way were reduced to nothing but ash.

Your wings flapped hard as you landed beside Phainon, shifting in the same breath. Your hands were on him before he could protest, gripping his arms, scanning him with narrowed eyes.

"You idiot!" you snapped. "Why didn’t you move?!"

He coughed, smirking even now. "You sound concerned" he rasped, clearly amused despite the pain.

"Of course I’m concerned!" You practically growled, your claws twitching with the urge to shake him. "You got stabbed!"

"Mm. Yes, that does appear to have happened."

You groaned, resisting the urge to strangle him. Instead, you yanked his arm over your shoulder, ignoring his wince as you lifted him effortlessly.

"Where are we going?" he asked, though he wasn’t resisting.

"To get you treated before you bleed out, you insufferable human." you gritted out.

He chuckled weakly, letting you carry him. "If I had known this would make you so attentive… I might’ve gotten stabbed sooner."

You almost dropped him. "Shut up."

Even half-conscious, Phainon still managed to smirk. "Make me."

You tightened your grip around him, and for once, he wisely stayed quiet.

----

Phainon woke up to silence.

That alone was unusual.

His body still ached, but the wound had been dressed and treated well, he could tell by the stiffness of the bandages and the faint scent of healing herbs. The last thing he remembered was you dragging him away from the battlefield, cursing his recklessness the entire time.

And now?

Now you were gone.

He sat up quickly, ignoring the dull ache in his side, his gaze sweeping the room. His weapons were still where he left them. His clothes had been neatly folded. Everything was intact.

Everything except you.

Did you—? No.

He refused to believe you had left him.

Had you taken the first opportunity to slip away? Had you waited for him to be weak so you could disappear without a word?

His fingers clenched into the sheets.

If you had left, he would find you.

He owned you. You had chosen to stay—he wouldn’t accept anything else.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to stand. His mind raced, trying to figure out where you could have gone. The palace? The outskirts? Back to your old life?

Not possible.

You wouldn’t leave without a trace.

Damn it.

He had to find you.

Meanwhile, you were completely unaware of the prince’s spiraling thoughts.

The market was lively, bustling with energy as you browsed through the various stalls. Gold and silk, rare spices, extravagant decorations—everything had to be perfect.

You didn’t normally go out of your way for things like this, but Phainon had survived, and whether you admitted it or not… you cared.

So, you spent the day preparing.

First, you checked on the grand hall, instructing the servants on where to place the banners and the candle-lit centerpieces. Then, you headed to the kitchens, where you spent far too long observing the palace chefs, much to their discomfort.

"That doesn’t look golden enough" you critiqued, frowning at a roasted pheasant.

The head chef looked exasperated. "It’s perfectly cooked—"

"More glaze. Shinier."

"…Shinier?"

"You heard me."

After terrorizing the kitchen staff, you went back to the market, picking out final decorations, taste-testing sweets (because of course you had to), and making sure everything was fit for a royal celebration.

The irony wasn’t lost on you.

You, a dragon, going through all this effort for a human prince.

What had your life become?

Still, you didn’t question it too much.

It was fun, in a way.

What wasn’t fun, however, was how somehow, despite being in the same general area multiple times, you and Phainon never crossed paths.

You passed through the halls minutes after he did. You left the kitchens just before he arrived. You ducked into a stall while he walked by.

Neither of you saw each other.

Which led to two very different outcomes:

You, feeling satisfied with your hard work and looking forward to seeing Phainon’s annoyingly smug reaction.

And him, spiraling into near madness, convinced you had abandoned him.

By the time Phainon returned to his chambers, his mood was dark.

He had searched the palace. The outskirts. The entire damn estate.

You were nowhere.

His fists clenched at his sides.

Then, he stepped into his room—

Candlelight flickered against gold-trimmed banners. The scent of roasted meats and spiced desserts lingered in the air. The table was set with a ridiculous amount of food, all plated to look as extravagant as possible.

And there you were, leaning against the table, arms crossed, looking very pleased with yourself.

"You’re late" you said flatly. "I went through all this trouble, and you almost missed it."

Phainon just stared.

His mind, which had spent the entire day convincing itself that you had left, refused to process this.

"You—" His voice caught, his fingers twitching at his sides. "Where have you been?"

You blinked. "What?"

"All day," he growled. "Where have you been all day?"

You frowned. "Preparing this, obviously."

His jaw clenched. "You-" He exhaled sharply, stepping forward, his body still tense. "Do you have any idea what I thought happened?"

You tilted your head, amused. "Let me guess—you assumed I left?"

You smirked. "And how did that make you feel, Your Highness?"

His grip on his gloves tightened. "Don’t push me."

You chuckled, stepping closer, placing a hand on his chest lightly, right over the wound that had caused all this in the first place. "I didn’t leave."

You leaned in, just enough to whisper, "I wouldn’t leave you that easily." His arms snapped around you, pulling you flush against him. You gasped, barely getting a second to react before he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like he had lost you.

"Don’t do that again."

"What?"

"Don’t disappear on me. I’ll burn this entire kingdom to the ground if you leave."

"Noted."

For once, he didn’t smirk. He just held you.

The feast, the decorations, everything else faded.

All that mattered was this moment.

[chrissssssmut]

TRAPPED IN HER WORLD

Giselle x Male Reader feat. Ryujin

You never wanted to be here.

Clubs weren’t your thing.

Loud music. Sweaty bodies. Flashing lights.

It was a nightmare for an introvert like you.

But your so-called friends had dragged you along.

“Come on, Y/N, you never go out!”

“You need to live a little, man.”

So here you were.

Sitting alone at a booth while they disappeared into the crowd.

You checked your phone. 1:43 AM.

Just a couple more minutes. Then you could fake a stomachache and get the hell out of here.

That was the plan.

Until she appeared.

She slid into the seat across from you like she belonged there.

Long dark hair. Red lips. A Black Sexy Dress that somehow made her presence even bolder.

She smirked.

“You look like you’d rather die than be here.”

You blinked.

She chuckled. “Did I guess right?”

You hesitated. Then nodded.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.

“Well, lucky you. I like guys who don’t belong.”

Her eyes gleamed.

“What’s your name?”

“…Y/N.”

She grinned.

“I’m Giselle.”

And that was the moment your life changed forever.

Minutes turned into hours.

Talking with her was easy.

She didn’t ask pointless questions. She didn’t try to fix your introversion.

She just… understood.

And then—

“Let me get you a drink,” she said, standing up.

Before you could respond, another girl appeared.

Shorter. Sharp eyes. Dark blue hair.

“This is my friend, Ryujin,” Giselle introduced.

Ryujin smirked, sliding a glass in front of you.

“On the house.”

You hesitated.

Something felt off.

Giselle tilted her head. “What, scared I spiked it?”

You forced a chuckle. “Of course not.”

You drank.

And then—

The world tilted.

Your vision blurred.

Your heart slowed.

You looked up at them—

Giselle’s lips curled.

Ryujin whispered, “Nighty night.”

And then—

Darkness.

You woke up in a strange bed.

Cold. Expensive sheets. A faint smell of perfume and metal.

Your wrists were tied.

Panic surged.

The room was too quiet.

Then—

A door creaked open.

Giselle walked in.

She was different now.

No teasing smiles. No playful banter.

Just pure control.

She sat on the edge of the bed, running a knife along the mattress.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Your breathing hitched.

“What the hell is this?!”

She sighed. “See, Y/N… I really liked you.”

The knife pressed into the sheets.

“But I don’t waste my time on normal guys.”

She leaned in.

“And you? You’re mine now.”

You fought.

Screamed.

Begged.

Nothing worked.

The windows? Bulletproof.

The door? Locked from the outside.

Your phone? Gone.

And Giselle?

She was everywhere.

Watching. Controlling. Owning.

One night, she sat across from you at dinner.

“I should probably tell you what I do,” she mused.

You didn’t answer.

She smirked.

“I sell things.”

She swirled her wine glass.

“Drugs. Weapons. Sometimes… people.”

Your stomach dropped.

She tilted her head.

“But don’t worry.”

Her fingers brushed your jaw.

“You’re too pretty to sell.”

You shuddered.

.

.

.

.

You waited for the right moment.

The second Giselle left the room—

You ran.

Through the hallway. Down the stairs.

To the front door.

It was unlocked.

Your heart pounded. Was she careless?

You shoved the door open—

And froze.

Because outside?

Nothing.

Not a street. Not a sidewalk.

Just endless forest.

A voice whispered behind you.

“Where are you going, baby?”

You turned.

Giselle.

Smirking. Holding a gun.

Your legs gave out.

She crouched in front of you, pressing the barrel under your chin.

“You really thought I’d let you leave?”

You whimpered.

She smiled.

And whispered the words that sealed your fate.

“There is no escape, Y/N.”

“You belong to me.”

Days blurred into weeks.

You stopped fighting.

Stopped thinking.

Giselle made sure of that.

She controlled your food. Your sleep. Your sanity.

And one night—

She cupped your face.

“You finally understand, don’t you?”

Your lips trembled.

She kissed you. Soft. Slow. Poisonous.

And when she pulled away, she whispered—

“Say it.”

Your voice shook.

“I belong to you.”

Her smirk widened.

“Good boy.”

And as she pulled you into her arms—

You knew, deep down—

You would never leave.

Not because you couldn’t.

But because she wouldn’t let you.

Epilogue – The Final Escape

You had one last chance.

One last, desperate attempt at freedom.

You waited. Watched. Planned.

For months, you played along.

“Yes, Giselle.”

“I love you, Giselle.”

“I belong to you, Giselle.”

And slowly—she trusted you.

Until, one night, she left the door unlocked.

A mistake.

Or maybe… a test.

But you didn’t care.

You ran.

Through the halls. Down the stairs. Out the door.

And this time—

You didn’t stop.

The forest was endless.

Your lungs burned.

Your feet bled.

Branches clawed at your skin, but you didn’t stop.

The moon was your only light.

And for the first time in months—

You felt hope.

Then—

A gunshot.

BANG.

The sound ripped through the trees.

And a voice—

“Baby.”

Your blood ran cold.

Footsteps. Slow. Calculated. Hunting you.

You tried to run faster, but—

BANG.

Pain exploded through your leg.

You collapsed, gasping.

Dirt filled your mouth. Blood soaked your jeans.

And then—

She was there.

Standing over you.

Giselle.

Her silhouette sharp against the moonlight.

She crouched, pressing the barrel to your temple.

“I’m disappointed, Y/N.”

Tears burned your eyes.

“Please—”

She sighed, brushing your cheek.

“I gave you everything.”

You sobbed.

She tilted her head.

“Did you really think I’d ever let you leave?”

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

And the last thing you heard—

Was her whisper.

“Goodbye, love.”

BANG.

But—

You weren’t dead.

Your ears rang. Your body shook.

The pain in your leg burned, but—your head? Untouched.

You gasped, blinking through the blur of tears.

Giselle’s voice was gentle.

“Shhh… it’s okay, baby.”

You barely processed it as she crouched beside you, her hands soft as they cupped your face.

“Did you really think I’d kill you?” she whispered, her tone almost… amused.

Your lips trembled.

“I—I heard the gun—”

She smiled.

And then—

She raised the gun to her own temple.

Click.

Empty.

Your stomach dropped.

She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear.

“I never load the last bullet.”

Your body froze.

She wasn’t planning to kill you.

She never was.

This wasn’t an execution.

This was a lesson.

Her fingers tightened in your hair.

“You’re mine, Y/N.”

She yanked you forward—forcing your gaze to meet hers.

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“No more running.”

You sobbed.

She smirked.

“That’s my good boy.”

And as she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead—

You realized the truth.

She didn’t need to kill you.

Because she had already won.

[organic-bloodbath]

heyy could u maybe do a chishiya fic (maybe a some smut) but maybe reader was with him when they got separated from arisu and the others

Knife Princess - Part 2

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: You and Chishiya are left together separated from the rest of the group. You receive news which you're not fond of.

Warnings: Talk about sex, but no actual smut. A little angsty and Y/N just being stubborn.

A/N: Using this request for the second part, though there's not really smut as i had originally planned.

Part 1

♤♡♧◇

The King of Spades had taken over Tokyo and was now terrorizing people everywhere in his sight. If he saw even a glimpse of you and you weren't fast enough to react - you were already dead. For some God's blessed miracle, you and your friends had managed to escape from the King's sight, for now.

You and Chishiya were separated from the rest of your friends and now only wandered around Tokyo together, avoiding the King at all cost. You tried to find a safe place to spend atleast one day only resting and searching for food.

You had found an abandoned tent which you could use together for sleep and rest - especially since your leg was still healing. It was located far away from the central of Tokyo, and you settled there for now.

During the time together, you had slowly started to get to know each other better. Chishiya had started to get the real you out of your shell - you weren't just the tough girl who could stab two men at the same time and get every man on their knees below you. You still were that girl, but you were so much more.

Chishiya couldn't help but wonder if the tough personality you showed at the Beach was up only when your brother was around. Maybe you had created a protective shield on your skin so Niragi couldn't completely take control of you - any worse than he tried to do now, but clearly had started to fail in that attempt. Chishiya was proud of you, if he had to admit, that you didn't let him squeeze you under his shoe like a bug. Of course Chishiya couldn't know the sibling relationship between the two of you, he only analyzed what he had seen by far.

He liked the real you, although he wouldn't admit it outloud.

You were standing by the tent and pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the ground. You needed to change your shirt to another one, since you had gotten it too dirty to wear.

"So, i found us two-" Chishiya started while coming back towards you, but stopped mid walking when he saw you.

You looked over your shoulder, your bare back facing him. Words stuck in his throat when he looked at your figure from head to toe until he cleared his throat and looked away.

"Sorry, i didn't know you were changing."

"You've already seen all of me more than once, shouldn't be anything new," you teased him with a playful smirk.

Chishiya didn't want to admit it to you, but every time he saw you without clothes on, he got flustered for some reason. You were extremely gorgeous, there was no denying in that, everyone could see that. Looking at you was like looking at a sculpture of a Goddess.

"I can still try to act like a gentleman and give you privacy, mind you," Chishiya mentioned.

"Mhm," you hummed and lifted your left brow, turning around towards him still wearing only your bra. "What do you got there?"

"Found some food which is not expired for once," Chishiya said, clearly proud of himself.

"Oh my, you're almost spoiling me today huh," you exclaimed, hand on your chest, and looked at the food he got.

"Also, I'll need to check up on your stitches," he said and told you to sit down.

You were wearing shorts, so you didn't need to take them off to access the wound. Chishiya held your leg in his hands and carefully cut the bandage off with your knife - it was the only sharp thing he managed to find at the moment.

"Does it hurt anymore?" He gently pressed on the wound, not putting too much pressure on it.

"A little," you answered with a short wince.

"I think we can take the stitches off in a few more days," he concluded.

You let him do his thing, not interrupting him with flirty remarks, no matter how hard you wanted to. You liked watching him work. Chishiya's fingers were brushing your inner thigh, his touch sending goosebumps through your leg.

He got up and sat next to you, moving his gaze to examine your wounded shoulder. He pressed his fingertips on your skin, right around the stitches.

"Good, you've managed to keep them uninfected," Chishiya praised you with a smile.

"Have a little faith in me," you said and bit your lip. "Is the check-up done, doctor?"

"For now, it is," he confirmed, looking into your eyes. Right after you lifted your left leg over his and sat on his lap, laying your hands on his shoulders. He put his hands on your hips, keeping you steady.

"You know, i don't really sleep with my doctors right after the examination," you stated playfully with raised eyebrows.

"Well, i don't really sleep with my patients either," Chishiya started slowly and slid his hand up and down your bare back, so gently it gave you goosebumps. "But we can have new rules here, hm?"

Sleeping with Chishiya wasn't left to a few times at the Beach. When you were separated from the rest of your friends, Chishiya had his hands on you every day and you loved every second of it.

For you and Chishiya, it was only sex and nothing more. You had started to care for him and he for you, sure, but by now it had all been just a physical thing for you. Two people who tried to survive and found comfort in each others' arms. You couldn't read what was going on in his head, though, so you automatically assumed his thoughts matched yours.

"I'd love to see you in a doctor's coat though," you grinned, playing with his blonde hair.

"I hope you won't," Chishiya said, a serious look in his eyes, and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I don't want to see you in a hospital, unless you're giving birth."

You couldn't help but blush on his words. He was just about to lean in to kiss you, until you suddenly gagged and had to cover your mouth. You felt yourself becoming sick, something rising up in your throat.

You stood up when you gagged for the second time and ran behind the tent to where Chishiya couldn't directly see from his spot.

After a few seconds, you started throwing up on the grass, stomach cramping.

"Y/N?" Chishiya said and slowly came behind you.

You didn't answer, just leaned your hands on your knees and felt cold sweat rising on your forehead.

"Did you eat something bad?" he asked with concern.

"Nothing from usual," you mumbled after you felt like that was all.

You had eaten all kinds of things during your stay in this world. You were surprised none of them had made you ill before, since you'd eaten many expired products and once you ate chicken which you were sure wasn't completely cooked, but you didn't really have a choice at the time. Besides, during the past days after the Beach, Chishiya had eaten the exact same foods as you, and he seemed to be completely fine.

"Come on, you should lay down and rest a bit."

"I'm fine," you mumbled and tried to brush his hand off as you straightened your back, taking a deep breath in.

You did need to lay down, to be honest, so you went back inside the tent after Chishiya had brought water for you to drink.

♤♡♧◇

You had started to feel sick again the next morning and stayed resting in the tent while Chishiya went out for a moment. You had wanted to join him but you needed to feel good by tomorrow because you'd go and join another game.

You did worry for Chishiya if he wouldn't come back to you after all. What if the King found him and he was lying dead in a ditch or something? How long would you wait for Chishiya here if something happened?

But luckily Chishiya did come back about an hour later.

"I got you couple of things from a convenience store i found," Chishiya said. You lifted your head and slowly sat up as he entered the tent, kneeling down by your legs. He offered you a packet of crackers and cereals. "I couldn't really find good foods which would help with sickness."

You opened the package and started to chew one cracker. You hadn't told him, but these happened to be exactly your favorite crackers. He gave you only a small smile which didn't last very long, keeping his left hand behind his back.

"What is it?" you asked, and hesitantly he gave you one more packet.

A pregnancy test.

You looked up at Chishiya with wide eyes who sat next to you.

"You think-"

"Just, hear me out, okay," he interrupted and took your hand in his. "When was your last period?"

You didn't know. All the games and overall stress had made you forget all about your menstrual cycle. That was the least of your worries. Even before the games, you had never kept track on your periods.

"Take the test, so i can cross out one thing what made you ill," Chishiya pleaded softly. He noticed how stressed you looked and tried to avoid his eye contact. "Hey," he put his hand on your cheek, "i'm here for you whatever the result is."

"I'm not pregnant," you insisted. "I'm not doing that."

"Y/N," he said seriously.

"It's just a food poisoning."

"Take the test," he repeated. "Please."

You looked into his eyes for a moment, then twirling the test in your hands. You hadn't taken one before, there had been no need to. Surely he was kidding, there was no way you would actually be pregnant.

You eventually got up and went to pee on the stick behind a bush far enough from Chishiya's sight. He wouldn't give up before you would go through with it, you could see it from his eyes how he was looking at you. Your legs were shaking, as were your hands.

You couldn't be pregnant, you just couldn't. One of your biggest fears was giving birth. You didn't want to push an entire baby out of you, ripping your body apart. You certainly wouldn't be able to handle the pain. Not many things terrified you, but that did.

You pulled your shorts back on and slowly returned to Chishiya. You instantly gave the stick to Chishiya, not wanting to hold it yourself.

Neither of you said anything until the result was ready, you just sat next to each other, shoulders against each other. Million thoughts ran through your mind, your heart starting to race faster the longer you had to wait.

Then...

Two lines.

It couldn't be. No, it couldn't be, you can't be pregnant, there's no way.

You felt your eyes starting to water. Oh my god, this can't be happening, you thought. You couldn't become a mother. You started to feel like you were about to hyperventilate soon, breathing so rapidly you could barely get any breath in your lungs.

"Hey, hey," Chishiya said softly and put his hand on your cheek. "Look at me. Take a deep breath in a count of three, okay?"

You hesitantly nodded, trying to breathe in the rythm of him counting from 1 to 3, slowly over and over again until you were starting to calm down.

"That's good," Chishiya said and gently brushed your cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear away. You hadn't realised you had let yourself to start crying. "I'm here with you, alright? You're not alone in this."

He held you in his arms until you had calmed down completely, resting his chin on the top of your head. You didn't say a word in atleast 5 minutes.

"Y/N?" Chishiya whispered. "Was there someone else? Or was i... was i your only one here?"

You didn't turn your head to look at him, you weren't able to, you only nodded awkwardly. Both of you stayed silent for a while longer, not knowing what to say or how exactly to react.

"So, what do we do?" you asked quietly.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," you mumbled and twirled your fingers, gaze on your lap. "I don't know if i can be a mother yet."

"It's still very early, we'll figure it out when we get back home," Chishiya reassured you.

God, if he wasn't there with you you wouldn't know what to do at all.

"What if i decide to keep it?"

"I'll be there with you through every step."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Chishiya planted a kiss on the top of your head, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"What if i want an abortion?"

"Y/N, it's your choice what to do," Chishiya said, his hand on your cheek. "But for now, let's concentrate on the remaining games, alright?"

♤♡♧◇

Chishiya couldn't sleep because of all the different thoughts going on in his mind. The tent was just large enough for the two of you to sleep next to each other, but there was no space left between your bodies.

The thought of you bearing Chishiya's child raised mixed emotions in Chishiya. He had started to grow attached to you during your time together here, only the two of you. It was very unexpected for him, he didn't want to be afraid of someone dying in these games. He wasn't that scared of death himself, and if he didn't care too much others either, he would have felt much more at ease during the games. And by now, it had been like that.

The idea of becoming the father of your child felt so surreal. Of course he knew there was a chance for you getting pregnant, since you weren't always able to use protection - condoms were quite hard to come by here at the moment. Even at the Beach, Chishiya knew that there had been atleast one time when you had had unprotected sex, but he always made sure to pull out early enough. Apparently he had failed with that.

But now the instinct of needing to protect you at all cost grew stronger, and that thought alone started to scare him.

Chishiya looked at your sleeping figure against his body when you turned yourself towards him and put your arm around his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. At first Chishiya thought that you were awake and about to open your eyes any second, until a slight snore came out of your mouth which was slightly open.

You looked so peaceful.

And beautiful.

♤♡♧◇

The next day you went to look for another game and ended up into an old prison.

Jack of Hearts - Solitary Confinement.

The hearts games were the worst, but since you were with one person who you trusted, you had no worries of passing the game. That was, unless Chishiya was going to give you the wrong symbol.

But he wouldn't do that - right?

You spent your time for the first few rounds only following the other people – all complete strangers to each other – ending up betraying others one by one, but it soon got boring to watch.

"What are you doing?" Chishiya asked as he sat next to you. You were holding one of your knives and carving something on the wooden table where you sat by yourself. Other players had gathered at the table next to yours.

"Drawing," you stated.

"With a knife?"

"I didn't find a pen and paper," you shrugged. "And i'm bored."

Chishiya looked at what you were drawing. It was a skull and roses around it. He was impressed how detailed and good the picture actually was.

"You want to draw too or why else are you here?" you asked, turning your head towards him. "I have a second knife you know."

You felt cranky and annoyed, not at Chishiya specifically but everything here. All you wanted to do was to get back home and get rid of this baby immediately. You didn't want it. You felt your mind changing about it every other hour – first you wanted to keep it, then have an abortion, then raise the kid and then again get rid of it.

You were going absolutely insane.

"I'm just bringing you food." Chishiya put a can of soup, bottle of water and a few crackers next to the carvings you had made.

"I'm not hungry," you said and brushed them away from you back to Chishiya, turning back to carving the table.

"I haven't seen you eat in hours," Chishiya said. "You'll have to eat before you start feeling too dizzy and pass out."

You kept your gaze on the table, trying to ignore him.

"Talk to me," Chishiya insisted, but all he got was silence. "Y/N..."

"There's nothing to talk about."

Chishiya was about to say something, but you became ill again and felt something rise up your throat.

"Shit, shit, shit," you mumbled as you bolted up and ran towards the bathroom, hand pressed hard against your mouth. Your knife flew on the floor, but Chishiya picked it up and put it into his pocket.

Right when you kneeled down in front of a toilet, you threw up. Your stomach hurt because there was barely any food in to vomit.

"Miss," a female voice asked behind you. "Are you alright?"

"Mhm, perfect," you mumbled.

"Do you need help, dear?"

"I'm fine."

You stood up and flushed the toilet when you felt like that was all. The woman stood in front of you, blocking your way. She laid her hand on your shoulder.

"Is it a baby?" the woman gasped, eyes widening in joy.

"What? No, i-"

"I can sense an aura around you," she whispered as she cupped your face into her hands. "Another life inside of you."

You only stared at her like she was crazy and on drugs or something.

"I see-"

You pushed her off and walked away from her, out of the restroom.

"Y/N?" Chishiya furrowed his brows as he reached you barely a minute later. "Everything alright?"

"Yea, fantastic," you mumbled and walked past him. You couldn't get very far because Chishiya grabbed your elbow and made you turn around.

You tried to leave but he only tightened his grip on your arm.

"Y/N," Chishiya repeated seriously.

"I don't want to talk, Chishiya," you groaned and tried to yank yourself off from his grip.

He didn't let you go, only pulled you towards him so hard you almost tripped. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you in his warm embrace, stroking your hair with his fingers.

Then, you gave up and relaxed in his arms, letting the tears flow down your cheeks.

"I'm just so, so tired of this," you mumbled. "All of this. Everything. I just want to go home."

"I know," Chishiya whispered. "And i'll make sure you'll get there."

Chishiya sat on the floor with you, rubbing your shoulder and trying to figure out what to say to make you feel better, but there was only a few minutes left until you had to be back in your cells.

"Your symbol was clubs, alright?" he reminded you, just in case.

"I know."

♤♡♧◇

As the game ended, you were by the food shelves, collecting a few crackers into your hands. You were not going to leave this place empty-handed when there was still loads of food left to offer.

You didn't have pockets, so you stashed the crackers into your bra.

"What are you doing?" Chishiya asked, arms crossed as he was leaning against the wall a few metres behind you.

"What does it look like?" you asked without looking towards him. "Taking food with me."

"Into your bra?"

"I couldn't find a bag, unfortunately."

When you had collected enough crackers into your bra, you took one more handful of them and offered them to Chishiya, who lifted his right brow in question.

"Stuff these in your pockets," you told him.

"Why?"

"Because you got me pregnant so you're supposed to do everything i tell you," you stated seriously, holding the crackers in your hand.

Chishiya tried to pull the amused smile on his face away, but seemed to fail.

"I'll try to learn the rules soon," he said and took the crackers, moving his gaze down to your breasts. "How many did you put in there?"

"Six."

"You can fit six crackers there?" Chishiya asked, eyebrows lifted up. The crackers had been packed in single packages and weren't small ones either. "Impressive, i think?"

"Yep," you said proudly. "Couple of them are gonna be a little crushed but i don't care."

"Do you always stash stuff in your bra?"

"Of course," you said, like it should be obvious. "Sometimes i wear a size too big bra just because of that."

"Hm," Chishiya smirked.

"So, where do we go now?" you asked as you exited the prison together.

♤♡♧◇

Tags: @audiiix

A/N: I'll have more parts to this, i hope this is okay 🫶🏻❤️ i swear pregnancy won't be a reoccuring theme in my fics in the future.

[marifilue]

Unraveled

Wordcount: 3.2K

Pairing: Logan Howlett x GF!Mutant!Reader (no use of y/n)

Tags: Violence, blood, established relationship, fluff, language, mature content.

Oneshot: You find Logan’s overprotective side endearing most of the time, but it can also be downright infuriating too. If only you knew how much he cares.

Being indestructible was a privilege Logan had, but it didn't mean he was invulnerable. And when it came to him, no enemy ever hit harder than his own damn temper.

People on the X-mansion have always had something to say about it before you got together with him.

"You know what you’re getting into, right?”

“Logan’s got a temper. That man’s a ticking bomb.”

His anger simmers beneath the surface like a ticking bomb, just waiting for the right trigger. And honestly? You get it. If you’d lived as long as he has—seen what he’s seen, lost what he’s lost—you’d be just as grumpy and short-tempered too. What you can’t wrap your head around is how, after all these years, he still manages to be a good man, the good man.

For someone labeled as hotheaded, Logan has a level of self-control that never fails to leave you in awe. He never lets his emotions get the best of him—not when it comes to you.

He’s never snapped, never lost himself in front of you. He’s just Logan. Rough around the edges, a little too protective at times, but always sweet, always caring. You wouldn't even change a thing about him, you love every part of the package.

He's your man, your Logan.

You’ve fought alongside Logan on plenty of missions. With your ability to absorb kinetic energy and immaculate combat skills, Professor send you in the field often.

Logan, on the other hand, isn’t always thrilled about it. His overprotectiveness grates on your nerves—he acts like it’s his job to keep you safe, even though you’ve proven yourself more times than you can count. A few scratches are nothing, but to Logan, even the smallest bruise is unacceptable.

Tonight’s mission is no different. The Professor is sending you and Logan to investigate an underground mutant fight ring—captured mutants, forced to battle for entertainment, all for the amusement of some sick humans.

Logan is not happy about it. Not just because of what’s happening inside that ring, but because Charles is only sending the two of you. His reasoning? You and Logan are the most skilled in hand-to-hand combat in which he's not wrong, and all you need to do is pose as a fighter. The rest of the team will be outside, monitoring the situation and ready to move if things go south.

Logan doesn’t trust it. And, knowing him, he sure as hell doesn’t like you walking into that kind of danger.

As the two of you walked toward the place, Logan brought a cigar to his lips, rolling it between his fingers before biting down and sparking his lighter. The brief flicker of flame illuminated his face as he took a slow drag, the ember glowing at the tip. He exhaled a cloud of smoke into the cold night air, his voice cutting through the haze, low and firm.

"Remember, get in line and—"

"Step back—bathroom emergency excuse. I will not stepped into the ring for any reason. Just navigate the waiting room, look for an escape route—I get it, Logan. You've been at this a dozen times."

You cut him off, irritation slipping into your voice before he can finish yet another rundown of the plan. What was supposed to be a simple fifteen-minute walk now feels insufferable with him constantly reminding you of your own damn mission.

Logan shot you a sideways glance, one brow raised as he held his cigar between his fingers. You didn’t even spare him a look, your steps heavier than necessary as you stomped ahead.

"I will—"

"You will look for that Jeffrey guy—aka the big boss. Try to make a reasonable deal; he’s usually hanging around the bar, enjoying the show. If it doesn’t work out, we step back and come up with another plan. No mess."

You cut him off again, finally glancing his way—just in time to catch that look on his face.

He shook his head, exhaling sharply before planting a hand on his hip in that all-too-familiar stance. He stopped in his tracks and called your name. Once. Then twice.

"What, Logan?" you sighed, though the edge in your voice wasn’t as sharp as you wanted it to be.

"Just watch your back, darlin’. That’s all I’m asking." With that, he stubbed out his cigar and flicked it away.

"I know. I can take care of myself," you muttered, turning on your heel and walking ahead.

Logan slipped his hands into his jacket pockets and followed, his heavy footsteps trailing close behind.

What did he say about not getting into the ring? Right. Don’t.

And yet, here you were.

In front of you stood a terrified little boy, no older than ten. His skin had a reptilian sheen, scales catching the light, his wide eyes darting around in panic. He was next up in the ring. His opponent? A grown mutant with his skin made of a rock—bigger, stronger, and with a look that said he wouldn’t hesitate to rip a kid apart.

How the fuck were you supposed to let that slide?

Your mind raced. There was no time to argue, no time to negotiate. You pushed the boy back, stepped onto his foot as a silent stay put, and took his place. You wouldn’t kill the guy—just cause a scene, throw everything into chaos, and run. That way, the kid lived, and hopefully, nobody got hurt.

Meanwhile, across the room, Logan leaned back in his seat, cigar resting between his fingers, his free hand drumming against the bar.

“So whaddya say, buddy? My boss is willing to offer up to three hundred grand. Tempting, ain’t it?” His voice was smooth, calculated—playing the part just enough to keep Jeffrey’s attention.

The obese middle-aged man took a slow sip of his drink, a smug grin stretching across his face. “Three hundred grand? I almost made that last year.” He chuckled.

“Almost, right?” Logan pressed. “I could push it to five hundred. That is, unless you’d rather—”

Something shifted in the air. The crowd roared, a deafening wave of cheers shaking the room. Logan barely processed it—until he caught a glimpse of the ring.

And you.

His words died in his throat. The second he saw you standing behind that cage, facing off against a man twice your size, his entire body went rigid.

“What?” Jeffrey prompted, waiting for Logan to finish.

But Logan was already out of his chair.

He stormed toward the ring, moving faster than anyone could stop him. The metal chain-link fence buzzed with electricity, flashing every time someone made contact with it.

“HEY! STOP THIS! THIS IS A MISTAKE!” His voice cut through the noise, rough and furious, his knuckles turned white.

Inside the ring, your ears rang from the cheers. Through the blinding lights, you barely made out Logan’s silhouette, one arm raised to shield your eyes.

Yup he's there, yelling and frustrated—oh, the look on his face.. He's pissed.

Sorry, babe.

Logan’s heart slammed against his ribs, his pulse roaring in his ears as he watched you square up against the rock-skinned mutant.

He didn’t give a damn about the deal anymore. Five hundred grand, a million—none of it mattered. Not when you were standing inside that ring. Not when you were about to get hit.

His hands clenched at his sides, jaw locking as Jeffrey chuckled beside him.

“Well, well,” Jeffrey mused, swirling his drink. “Isn't she a sight for sore eyes”

Logan didn’t answer, his eyes locked on you. Under different circumstances, he would’ve smirked, said hell yeah, you are a sight for sore eyes, and maybe even thrown in a proud that’s my girl. But right now? What the fuck are you doing?

Inside, you could practically feel the heat of his glare from across the room.

Your opponent shifted his weight, cracking his knuckles. “You sure about this, lady?” he asked, voice like grinding gravel. “I don’t hold back.”

You ignored him. Instead, you glanced at the crowd, the flashing lights, the electric fence humming behind you.

Then, you locked eyes with Logan.

He was furious.

Not just pissed—but furious.

The kind of anger that made his entire body tense, veins pulsing in his forearms, his stance screaming don’t test me.

Yeah, you were in trouble.

But right now, you had bigger things to worry about.

The bell rang.

The rock-skinned mutant lunged.

You dodged, barely missing a fist that would’ve knocked you flat. The crowd erupted in cheers, fists pounding against the metal barricades.

Logan’s claws twitched beneath his skin. His control teetered on a razor’s edge.

Jeffrey let out a slow whistle. “Gotta admit, she’s got guts. But guts won’t save her.”

That was it.

Logan moved.

Without a word, he reached back—grabbed Jeffrey by the collar—and slammed him face-first into the floor.

The crowd was too fixated on the fight to notice. But the bouncers? They noticed.

Logan barely spared them a glance. “Anyone touches me,” he growled, voice low and lethal, “they lose a hand.”

Nobody moved.

Good.

Because Logan had one thing on his mind—and that was getting you the hell out of that ring.

He turned back to the fight just in time to see your opponent land a hit.

Not a clean hit—you’d blocked most of it—but enough to send you skidding backward, your boots kicking up dust. A bruise was already forming around your left eye, a small cut near your eyebrow marking where his rock-hard fist had landed.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he muttered, hands tightening into fists. “End this fast.”

And you did.

You twisted on your heel, faking left before darting right. Your opponent fell for it, leaving his side wide open.

One hit.

That was all you needed.

You slammed your palm into his exposed ribs, absorbing the kinetic energy from his movements and sending it right back into him. The impact sent him flying, crashing against the cage with a crack. The electric fence buzzed—and he went limp.

The crowd lost their minds.

But Logan wasn’t cheering. He was already grabbing a steel chair.

With one brutal swing, he smashed it against the electric fence. Sparks flew, and the power box short-circuited, cutting the current.

Then, he climbed the cage.

People screamed. Guards scrambled. But before anyone could react, Logan had already dropped inside.

You barely had time to register what was happening before he was in front of you, his hands gripping your arms, his voice rough and low.

“Y'alright?”

You blinked. “Yeah—”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Good.”

Then, in one swift motion, he scooped you up—actually picked you up—and threw you over his shoulder.

“Logan!” you hissed, squirming. “Put me down—”

“Not a damn chance.”

His grip was firm, unyielding. He stepped over your fallen opponent and marched toward the broken part of the cage.

By now, the entire place was in chaos. People running, guards shouting. None of it mattered.

All that mattered was getting you out.

Scott, Jean, and Ororo arrived at the scene in no time, tending to what was left of the cage fighter mutants. Logan? He didn’t even look back, just left the cleanup to the rest of the team.

At some point before boarding the Blackbird, he finally set you down without a word. He took a seat, arms crossed, staring out the window as the rest of the team and the rescued mutants filed in. You sat across from him, watching as he deliberately avoided your gaze. But at one point, you caught him looking—just for a second—before he turned away just as quickly.

Once the mission was settled and the rescued mutants were given guidance, you found yourself talking with the Professor. That was when you saw Logan walk past the room, heading for the exit. He probably hadn’t realized you were there, deep in conversation, but the way his shoulders were set, the way he moved with purpose, told you everything.

You excused yourself and followed.

He walked fast, straight out the door and toward a cabin tucked away in the backyard of the X-Mansion. You picked up your pace, but you didn’t call out to him—tonight had him on edge, and you weren’t sure he’d want to talk. You’d barely spoken to each other since the mission ended.

Logan disappeared inside, shutting the door behind him. You hesitated just outside, only for a muffled groan to catch your attention. You took a step closer. Then—a loud crash.

The hell?

Your fingers brushed the handle just as another heavy thud echoed from inside. That was enough. You pushed the door open.

Logan stood with his back to you, fist slamming into the concrete wall. A fresh crack splintered across the surface, blood smeared where his knuckles had connected. But even as the wounds stitched themselves back together, he didn’t stop.

The door creaked, and he stilled. Then he turned—eyes widening when he saw you.

Shit. When did you get here? How long had you been standing there?

“Logan…” Your voice was quiet.

“I… What are you doing here?” He exhaled sharply, looking away. “I didn’t know you were there. I—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening. “You shouldn't be here—” He crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly looking exposed, like he’d been caught in something scandalous.

Your grip tightened on the doorknob. “Are you alright?” It was a stupid question—you already knew the answer. He was frustrated, needed an outlet. And he thought no one would see.

Especially not you.

Logan turned to leave the cabin, brushing past you with no force but you weren’t letting him walk away that easily.

“Logan, just listen to me will you?!” You called after him, your voice sharp with frustration.

He stopped in his tracks, shoulders tense. Taking that as your chance, you stepped closer "There was a boy, god he was so scared. He's supposed to fight that big guy, I can't let that slide Infront of me, Lo.." You stepped in front of him—giving him space, but making sure he had to see and hear you.

“Come on, that boy was walking straight toward his grave. I had the power to stop it, so I did.” Your fingers fidgeted, nerves creeping in despite your resolve.

Arms crossed, he kept his gaze ahead for a moment before finally looking down at you, eyes dark with something unreadable. You held his gaze, refusing to waver.

“You would’ve done the same if you were in my position,” you said, firm but pleading.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “but a scratch wouldn’t do a damn thing to me. You?” He trailed off. His jaw clenched. “Anything could’ve happened to you.” His voice was quieter now.

“But it didn’t. I’m alright, okay?. Even if it had, it’s not gonna be your fault. It isn't your job to protect everyone, Logan.”

The second the words left your mouth, you knew you’d messed up. His posture went rigid, his head tilting as if he couldn’t believe what you’d just said.

“But it is my job to protect you,” he shot back, voice rough, raw. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you—if I was right there and I let it happen. How the hell do you think I’d live with that?”

You exhaled, pressing your fingers to your temples. “Alright, let’s just calm down—”

“No.” He said your name, voice lower now, but no less intense. “It’s not fine. You always do this. Always act like some goddamn saint, and I hate it. Hate how you care so damn much about everyone else’s life but your own.” He unfolded his arms, hands flexing at his sides. “Your life it’s.... fragile, alright?”

He swallowed hard, exhaling sharply. “One day, you’re here. And the next… who fucking knows? That scares the shit outta me. Please, just—”

His voice wavered. He shook his head, frustrated at himself, at you, at everything.

“Just have a little survival instinct. For your own sake. For mine.”

Your breath hitched. You’d never seen this side of him before—not like this. Not so openly terrified.

Slowly, you reached for his arms, his hands still twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them. He was shaking. Gently, you guided one of his palms to your chest, right over your heartbeat.

“I’m still here, Logan,” you murmured. “Still beating.” You pressed his hand against your chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm beneath his palm.

His gaze flickered from your hand to your eyes. His thumb brushed absently over your skin, like he needed to remind himself you were here. That nothing bad happened.

His arm slid up as his gaze caught on the bruise near your left eye and the cut on your brow. He brushed away the blood with careful fingers.

“I don’t like that,” he muttered.

“I know.”

After a beat, he exhaled, finally breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry. I usually don’t get caught screwing shit. Nobody were supposed to see that.” His hand dropped back to his side, suddenly withdrawn, like he didn’t think he deserved to be standing this close to you.

You chuckled, shaking your head. You could see the way he was trying to distance himself again, convinced he wasn’t worthy of your love. But you weren’t about to let him pull away—not tonight. Not after everything.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” you teased, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his neck, tiptoeing to reach him. “Didn’t see a thing.”

His body went stiff at first, like he wasn’t sure how to react, he felt like he didn't deserve your touch. But then, with a quiet exhale, he melted into you. His arms circled your waist, pulling you in.

“Careful what you’re gettin’ yourself into, darlin’,” he muttered against your neck, voice low, warning.

You grinned, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. You just stood there, close, the space between you nonexistent.

Then Logan did what he always did when words failed him.

He kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, deliberate, filled with all the things he hadn’t been able to say. His lips pressed against yours with a firm but aching tenderness, like he was trying to apologize and promise you the world all at once.

You melted into him, your hands slipping up his chest, fingers curling into his jacket. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“Next time,” he murmured, “we do it my way.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, brushing your nose against his. “No promises, sweetheart.”

He groaned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You grinned. “Nah. You’re immortal, remember?”

Logan chuckled, low and rough. “Doesn’t mean I’m invincible.”

You smirked, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Good. I’d hate to think I don’t have an effect on you.”

Logan let out a soft growl, pulling you flush against him. “Oh, you’ve got an effect on me, alright.”

And just like that, the tension from the night melted away—not forgotten, but softened by the simple truth of what you were to each other.

A team. A pair. A damn disaster waiting to happen.

And neither of you would have it any other way.

[mindless-existence1]

I know it’s late

but what about the sonic characters with the reader under a mistletoe

👀

tails can get a motherly kiss on the head

he my baby

Tails my sweet boy 😭❤️ @luc1dw0rld

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadow

You hadn’t planned this. Really, you hadn’t. But here you were, standing under the mistletoe with Shadow the Hedgehog, and he looked about two seconds away from Chaos Controlling out of there.

His red eyes flicked up to the small plant above you, then back to you, his expression unreadable. “Tch. This tradition is ridiculous,” he muttered, arms crossed, but you didn’t miss the way his ears twitched slightly.

“C’mon, Shadow,” you teased, leaning in just a little. “What’s the harm?” He huffed, but after a moment of hesitation, he cupped your chin gently, his touch surprisingly warm despite his usual cold demeanor.

Then, in a rare display of affection, he pressed a quick but firm kiss to your lips.When he pulled back, his gaze was intense. “No one hears about this” he murmured before walking off, you shout a "Whatever you say handsome, as he leaves you standing there, heart racing.

Sadly you muss the reddness that flares on his cheeks.

Silver

Silver had been having a great time at the holiday party—until he found himself frozen in place, staring up at the mistletoe, his face turning as red as a Christmas ornament.

“Oh, uh… oh, wow,” he stammered, glancing between the mistletoe, you, and the group of people in the background giggling at the situation.

“So um, what do we do?” You giggled at his adorable nervousness, and how obvious it is he's pretending to be oblivious. “You know how the tradition goes, Silv.”

His fluffy quills bristled as he tried to psych himself up. Then, taking a deep breath, he leaned in and gave you the softest, sweetest kiss youve ever received.

When he pulled back, he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. You laughed, placing a hand on his arm. “Silver, you're so cute” His face somehow got even redder, "You cant just say stuff like that." He said with a smile.

Sonic

The moment Sonic realized you two were under the mistletoe, a cheeky grin spread across his face. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, tapping his foot playfully. “Looks like we got a little situation here.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “Oh? And what are we gonna do about it?” In a flash, he was right in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. “I dunno, but I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Before you could react, he swooped in, pressing a quick yet electrifying kiss to your lips. It was over as fast as it began, but the heat in your cheeks remained. He winked, stepping back with that confident grin. “Not bad, huh?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Cocky much?” “Maybe.” He leaned in slightly. “But you liked it.” You nudged him, but you couldn’t help but grin. Yeah, maybe you did.

[midnightshindig]

rex or cecil (or both, separately) discovering that the reader is a viltrumite who actually wants to conquer earth and never actually cared about them 🙏 the angstier the better :)

Cecil and Rex (seperately) X Viltrumite!Reader

(someone on here just declared me the savior of Cecil fans and I’m riding that high so fair warning)

(also I might try and make these prettier like w/ images and stuff once I start using my laptop and not my phone for these…. Would you guys like that?)

anyways, fic below the cut!

Rex Splode

It’s the end of season one, and your uncle and supervisor, Nola Grayson aka Omniman, has just smashed your cousins face into a mountain.

You’re only a few feet away, having declared your allegiance to the Viltrumite Empire when Mark wouldn’t see the way of things

back at Guardian Hq, Rex is like crashing out hard

Like. Black Samson is hugging him to keep him from breaking shit.

that bad.

back with mark and Uncle Nolan

”What about you Y/n?! What about Rex? Did you ever even love him?!!!” Mark screams accusatorially, his body beaten into the contours of the hard rock crater, and it takes all his strength to spit out his question

You pause for a minute, finger curled and rested below your lower lip as you processed and considered.

”I mean, of course I like him. But Mark-“ your tone is soft and gentle, like a schoolteacher “but he’s careless and stupid, he’ll die before he ever does anything of consequence.” You smiled wantonly, closing your eyes ^^

Rex can’t believe what he’s hearing, you’d been dating since you were fourteen- you’d became Teen Team members together and joined the Guardians at the same time.

You were the one who convinced him to get his GED

You were the one who patched him up by hand when he’d get into fights as a teen

He lost his virginity to you- and stayed faithful the entire five year relationship- do you KNOW how difficult that is for canon serial-cheater Rex?!!

He looked at the screen and tried to figure it out

You must be being controlled or blackmailed or something.

but Black Samson decides enough is enough and cuts the power, convincing Rex to focus on the mission at hand: helping those trapped in the wreckage of Omniman and Invincibles fight.

So off he goes, exploding rubble and pulling people out of the wreckage

And suddenly there you are

You don’t know he knows

He finds You when you pull a giant boulder off a group of preteens stuck in a broken mall

”Hey babe! I’m glad you guys started without me- sorry I’m late, I had to help Mark.”

He’s sick to his stomach just looking at you

You float down after safely depositing the boulder.

”Haiiiii :3” you lean over and give him a quick kiss, prying your hands into his

He remembers just this morning promising to pick you up and twirl you the next time he saw you, but that was when you were rushing off to support Mark

Now he’s just some dumb pet you’ve been keeping on the side.

why?

His body is frozen stiff and there’s not much chance of him moving anytime soon

you tilt your head and furrow your brow

hes acting weird

”What’s wro-“

”Fuck you!”

the gaggle of preteens from a minute ago are eating this shit up

“Rex- what? What are you-“

the look in his eyes confirms your worst nightmare. he knows.

the way the light and warmth fade from your eyes confirms Rex’s worst nightmare. You know he knows.

fuck.

well here it goes

”Fuck you- I’m not some fucking pet, I’m not your little puppet man I don’t do a fucking puppet dance!” His palms are glowing red by his side, clenched into tight fists.

“how dare you! Howwwww fu-cking DARE YOU!” He’s just yelling, and Monster Girl comes over to remove him, not wanting him to get his fucking head taken off by the newly evil Viltrumite person she thought was her teammate

“Ahahhahahahaaaaa don’t mind him, he had a dream about you cheating! Haha!!!” She’s covering his mouth with him tucked under her arm, fucking hightailing it as fast as she can

But not fast enough. The jig is up, you can feel it. Might as well tie up loose ends.

Theres nobody around to witness you punch Monster Girls heart through her chest, clenching her first and popping it like a water balloon all over you and Rex.

Youre standing over him now, he’s on the ground looking up at you

”Did it mean anything? Did I even matter to you?!” He demands, shaking his head viciously

”Oh… oh Rex…” your schoolteacher voice is back as you crouch down, pushing a piece of his hair behind his ear

“Of course it did, I loved you.” You paused a beat “But it was more like how you love a pet.” You cooed, continuing to push his hair around, like you were petting him

he smacked your hand away, and you caught it by the wrist, snapping it

“But I think this little blip has run its course.”

he watched helplessly as you stepped on his chest with one foot, bringing yourself to your feet and hovering the other over his face

“Im breaking up with you”

crunch.

his brains spilled over the pavement, mixing with the blood from Amanda’s heart.

you grimaced at the sight of your first love splayed out on the city sidewalk in front of you, mushy under your boot.

Youd miss him, you thought to yourself. But you could always find another one.

Cecil Stedman (much smaller bc I’m weak)

After the events of season one and Shapesmith , Cecil can’t help but need verification on the identity on every Guardian of the Globe.

which means blood tests for everyone

you secretly swap yours with human blood

but Cecil takes your blood while you sleep, nice try.

It’s not that he suspects you, but because he need to be sure

he doesn’t have a job where he can just fuck around.

and the test results come back Viltrumite, like Mark and Nolan’s blood yours is uniquely shaped

hes surprised he didn’t notice it before when doing standard labs on you.

and now he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The next few months are him pretending not to know while desperately trying to find a way to shut you down…. All while praying you’re here for good reasons.

Mark is the only one who’s been told about you, but god… he’s just a teenager, and he wants information you ought to have.

and he learns some stuff.

”Mark, ask them about their origin, get them to admit why they came to earth!”

Mark inquires as to what led you to earth, and you take a moment to be vulnerable.

”Yknow, I know you don’t agree with your dad, but I’m also a Viltrumite sent to colonize earth- although I’m just here as backup for when Nolan gets back.” You shrugged, a sanguine smile like always

”what about the guardians? What about Cecil?”

you raised an eyebrow “oh come on, Nick. Cecil’s ancient and I’m going to live for thousands of years. He’ll be dead before I begin to wrinkle. I was only with him to give Nolan an eye on the inside.”

Cecil is slackjawed at this, and scrambling to find some sort of way to- kill you?

could Cecil even do that?

heartless gilf he is, he loves you

he loved you

and he thought you loved him

He married you for christs sake- he swore to god and the government and every superhero on earth that he’d protect you and stay by your side until he died.

but this…. Fuck….

were you even the person he married?

Donald had to take over while Cecil spiraled, coordinating every bomb to stay trained on your location, and instructing Mark to get you somewhere remote.

“maaaark, why are we in the dessert?”

Mark didn’t have a good answer

”Oh, yknow. It’s scenic.”

you raised an eyebrow

weird but wtv, mark was a weird dude you guessed

Then Mark gets all panicky

”oh uh I forgot my camera! I’ll be right back stay here!”

and he’s gone

and the fucking BOMBS START DEPLOYING WHAT THE FUCK-

You call Cecil over your earpiece, trying to get a grip on what’s even happening

When he picks up his voice is stoic and cold

”I know what you are, surrender or die.”

oh shit.

ohhhhhh shit

Mark you little weasel.

You fly straight for HQ, crashing into the building in front of Cecil

It’s a classic showdown, you looking down at him and him looking up at you

in better circumstances you would’ve kissed him

instead he narrows his eyes and furrows his brow further, taking a step forward, your noses pressed together

”You heard me. Surrender or die.”

you cocked your head “And what if I kill you and everyone here?”

He falters, a glimpse of fear and sadness in his eyes

“Then you better do it before my men have you dead on the ground.”

you stare right back at him, waiting to see who breaks.

His scarred mouth twitches, a muscle memory from when he would’ve kissed you for being this close

not anymore.

You knit your brows together, pain coloring your expression

“I… I can’t do it.”

before Cecil can respond, much like Nolan, you fly off into space, leaving Cecil a wreck

He flings his wedding band at the big monitor, cracking it with the force of the unbeatable metal

unbreakable like your vows

like hell.

Donald watches as he grits his teeth and gets to work minimizing damages

Never again.

[borkthemork]

I know that the fandom jokes a lot about how much Togami and Kirigiri order Naegi around to explain the clues in the trials, but I absolutely love the way they utilized this during the 4th Trial.

Specifically, in how Kirigiri is able to pack so much humiliation towards Togami without even breaking a sweat.

Togami throughout the game, especially in the Fourth Chapter, has been continuously downplaying the capabilities, lives, and agency of his fellow classmates. He is elitist, he was born into a family where if you don't bite and claw to survive, then you won't win, and believes he got to where he is through sheer cunning, willpower, and cold rationality. The idea of cooperating with the other students was beneath him. The idea of seeing people such as Asahina and Naegi as equals disgusted him due to his perceived differences in their class, capabilities, status, and levels of intellect.

In Trial 2, specifically, we see him attempt to one-up the others regarding being able to showcase how powerful and assured he is as an influential player within the Killing Game. He even used Naegi as a pawn to get him on the trail of his fabricated crime scene, just to see how people respond and to make the game less "predictable" while keeping control on the situation. However...

In that same trial, we see that the moment Naegi was able to uncover something Togami himself couldn't catch, his resolve wavers. He is humiliated, angry at the idea of some commoner, who couldn't even read 11037 as an upside down 'LEON' at the first trial, was able to outsmart him and put them on a new, unexpected path of inquiry all together. We can see that this gets to him after the trial is complete, showcasing how even if externally he looks calm and assured, being put off guard cuts him deep within his pride.

Being outsmarted, taken by surprise, or not given power over a situation frustrates him, and the seeds of that get planted during Chapter Four through multiple characters such as Kirigiri, Asahina, and Naegi.

Keep in mind that during this chapter a few key points happen that set the stage for what's to come. I am talking about Kirigiri's critical comments towards him before the Class Trial, and that Asahina was able to slap and threaten him.

These series of events do four things:

One, Asahina's actions hardened his viewpoint on Asahina as emotionally reckless and stupid, someone who he will underestimate in the later parts of the chapter.

Two, this outburst makes him double down on the idea of emotion as inferior and childish.

Three, Kirigiri's warnings make him believe he can elude betrayal, that he only has to worry about the ones who are already suspicious to him.

Four, due to being humiliated still by Asahina's surprise slap on him, he wants to regain his composure and status again amidst the cast as someone unflappable.

To me, the last point is why Togami himself went to great lengths of drinking most of the poison bottle in front of everyone. It's a way to show how untouchable and smart he is as a player, that he can surprise the others once more and remain unscathed at the very end from thinking many steps ahead of them.

However, this is where Kirigiri's words and actions click into place with humiliating the crap out of him.

When Asahina is interrogated to be lying, Togami starts to lose his resolve. He fell for Asahina's downplaying of her own intelligence and how she made obvious tracks because he believed she didn't have the capabilities to make a cleaner crime scene, and never thought deeply on why personally she would commit murder on her best friend.

He has honed in so much on the idea of killed or be killed, that the obvious contradictions went right under his nose. It didn't help that Naegi had to point this out to him afterwards.

Enter Kirigiri.

Now that Togami has lost his footing with Asahina's reveal, she then tells him that there is new evidence, surprising him once again by adding another unpredictable factor to the trial.

Stacking on to that, she rubs in that he was the one who gave it to her, and that he was too busy acting like a smartass with the bottle that he didn't inspect the evidence closer in the first place.

Since Togami does have some respect for Kirigiri in being capable of deduction and yet sees himself still as one of the best within the group, Kirigiri hones in on this. She adds how she's "amazed" that someone like him would overlook this, adding in a feeling of his intellect and capabilities being looked down upon in disappointment by a semi-peer.

Togami notes this indirectly in his dialogue, but during this scene, Kirigiri is intentionally omitting the answer to the clue also.

Compared to how she omits info from Naegi in past trials due to wanting to observe his capabilities, Kirigiri wants Togami to get desperate in this moment. He is already feeling out of the loop with multiple factors outside of his control, and not being able to think of a proper conclusion on his own due to being put off guard.

Contrasted with his past lectures—about how you can't trust people, and that you have to do things on your own—she now has Togami begging other people for an answer on the situation. To the point where his anger and frustration makes his requests sound childish, as if he's the impatient one compared to everyone else in the room.

To add even more insult to injury, Kirigiri then diverts the answer to Naegi. The person who Togami has mocked multiple times for being a commoner, someone who will never be equal to him, and who he sees as dense as a rock despite acknowledging his past deduction skills.

By doing this Kirigiri puts Togami into a corner where if he truly wants the answer to his question then he has to beg someone who is the complete opposite of everything he defines as a successful person, and you can see Togami processing this for a few seconds before relenting angrily.

In previous sessions, Togami was able to have a say in the trials and even be a massive influence in how the line of inquiries followed through; the moment Kirigiri put Naegi on the spot and gave him the reins, the tide has changed and is now in their hands.

Trial 4 has Naegi and Kirigiri carrying the deduction phase in solving Asahina's betrayal and Oogami's suicide, and doing an amazing job tying up a lot of loose ends in rapid succession much to Togami's bewilderment.

He is completely falling behind, and this makes him even more humiliated and angry as he loses his cool during the second half of the trial.

He yells about Kirigiri giving him loaded questions, about how unfair it is that she knows more than him, basically watching this man go into a tantrum right in front of everyone he's previously mocked for being emotional. It is just an avalanche of continuous pathos triggering the same humiliated feelings with each second he reacts to them.

He has to listen in shock as Asahina is found out to have been the one who betrayed them, and that suicide was the only viable way for the crime scene to occur. Asahina and Oogami took him by surprise, and if it weren't for Naegi and Kirigiri to disprove the former's claims, they all would've been executed. Togami fell for all of it, and gets hit once more with the feeling of being wrong, of losing to people he never expected to best him while Kirigiri continues to refute him without hesitation.

He's then placed in a position where Kirigiri and Naegi have beaten down his arguments well enough for him to dejectedly apologize after yelling, which is huge for someone like him.

The best part about this is that the moment he does this, Togami takes a full backseat to the entire debate as Naegi and Kirigiri interrogate Asahina and reveal the truth over Sakura's death.

He interjects a few times, and he only jumps back into the conversation completely at the finale—all to ask Makoto how he was able to beat him.

And in the end, Kirigiri responds (in frustration, which is hilarious) by telling him the exact reasons why he never was able to solve this case. She didn't even have to go on a huge tangent, all she needed to do is hit him right where it hurts: his pride, his black and white viewpoints, his inability to win, and that he is just as vulnerable and volatile as the rest of the people he looks down upon.

These lines themselves wouldn't have gotten to him before. We have seen how resistant Togami was when the group tried to argue with him over his behaviors, but now, each sentence hits him like a stack of bricks due to being dragged through the mud multiple times all to prove Kirigiri's point that she was right, and that he was wrong.

There is so much humiliation just packed into every single back-and-forth of the trial, you can't help but wince (and cheer) at how effective it was in getting Togami to back down completely.

[lovingjingyuan]

I only had the confidence to start writing Dark! Quinn causes of kawhh. I was NOT trying to get canceled before, but fuck it, I have bad taste in men's personality

My old work is way more unhinged than this

Warning: non-con(ish), dark content, spanking, sex in his jersey, degradation, unprotected sex +18

The sight of you wearing his jersey was one thing Quinn couldn’t resist. Even though he seldom looks at his fans in his jersey, he couldn’t control himself when you wore it. He licks his lips. His gaze lingers on your body with the most unhinged thoughts he was unable to restrain.

Quinn knew better than to act reckless and strip you naked in front of the ice rink. Especially when people are scattered around the rink. He was just unable to control and contain himself. All he wanted in that moment was to fuck and feel your bare self on his cock. He wanted to caress his cock against your clit while you whimpered and gripped onto the edge of the jersey.

It was only when you two arrived home did he unleash all his desires. His hand swiftly raised the bottom hem of the jersey, exposing the fact you weren’t wearing any underwear. Quinn’s cock just tightened more against his boxers, begging to be freed. To imagine that you spent the entire day without any underwear or pants other than his baggy oversize jersey. You were just asking for it.

___

“Why are you surprised? You knew what you were doing when you chose not to wear your underwear. You were just begging for this attention, mh?” Your bum turned red as he smacked your butt relentlessly. Your drench pleading pussy was visible since the blue Canucks’ jersey lifted up.

He repeatedly slapped his palm against your butt. You could only whimper in agony as you remained in Quinn’s grasp.

Then he stopped. His gaze travels down your body to admire his work.

But he wasn’t finished. Quinn wanted nothing more than to hear more of your sweet noise. He wants to drain your body of all the delightful noise. As you cry and beg for him to fuck and ruin you, he rubs the tip of his cock against your entrance.

Quinn couldn’t help but tease you, needing to push you past your limits and rubbing his cock against your slick pussy and sensitive clit.

“Bad girls, don’t just get what they want; they have to earn.”

Quinn wanted to take and fuck you right there and now, but he was holding himself back, building up the excitement. His precum dripping against your pussy.

“Spread your legs more. Why do you feel shy now? You clearly weren’t an hour ago, when you were walking around like a slut.”

Of course, the jersey wasn’t coming off anytime soon. To him, the jersey served as some form of ownership branding. To show he owns you and that you are his.

[colorlessjay]

hey, based on this post, about dean being snuggler and all, can you just post a little thread about it? like, s16 dean with s6 cas and him reaching out to snuggle in with cas and cas being cas, gets all weird and all? can you do smth similar to it?

It baffles me that people wanna hear what my lizard brain has to say about this, but okay

Ngl, I always thought S16 Dean would have a lot of self-control not to just do what he desperately wants to (which is hug and kiss Cas, pour his heart out to Bobby, and just talk to Sam about troubles despite him being soulless)

But there are times

times when longing gets too much and Dean gives in

At first, it was small things

Dean looking over Sam's shoulder as he does research and just suddenly ruffling his hair and telling him he did a good job. All before quickly playing it off as a tease instead of affection

Dean running his fingers through books and nicknacks in Bobby's cabin, sitting down to talk to Bobby and just... stares a little too long. All before announcing how tired and old he feels being closer to Bobby's age

and then it's the involuntary slip-ups that he struggles to play off

He's always lingered a little too close to Cas, but hugging him is new

He's always had intense eye contact with Cas, but smiling at him when they do is new

And then there's the kiss

He didn't mean to, honest

But he was tired after sleeping on Bobby's old couch. He felt lonely and cold. There's an itch under his skin he can't scratch

so when Cas appears in the kitchen to inform them of something or another after DAYS of no-show...

Dean acted on instincts the same way he did. Can you blame him? Cas' neck was right there and hasn't been kissed yet! It must've been cold

and yeah, okay, that's gonna be hard to explain when the Angel comes back but it was worth it feeling that little bit of warmth again, even for a few seconds

Castiel though...

yeah he uh, he stays at that gas station for a while just trying to understand what the hell just happened

[thequeenofcurses]

Death of a Bachelor Part 2

The Wedding

summary: you're marrying the one and only special grade sorcerer: ryomen sukuna. wk: 5.1k (sry)

<- Part 1

Sukuna POV | 3:00 am

“You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t believe it was worth it,” Nanami’s words echoed in Sukuna’s head throughout the night, sneaking into his dreams. Was tying himself down, forever, really the right decision?

Sukuna tossed and turned before eventually he just sat up and threw his covers off of him. He didn’t bother to throw a shirt on and walked straight to the kitchen. Maybe some water will help. He chugged the glass then drank another and another, yet his head still remained foggy. Fuck. I’ve never felt like this before. What the hell is this?

Not wanting to bother waking you with a text or call, Sukuna unlocks his phone and types a message to the one person he can trust to talk to right now. His assistant.

Sukuna: I know you’re awake. You want to swing by? Uraume: No. Sukuna: I wasn’t asking Uraume: IT’S 3AM SUKUNA! Sukuna: Look I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, just get over here.

Ten minutes pass until Uraume’s short figure is knocking at Sukuna’s door. They quickly enter Sukuna’s security code and just walk through the door, finding a shirtless Sukuna downing another glass of water in his kitchen. 

“You made it,” Sukuna’s voice was lighter than his normal tone. You and Uraume are the only two people who get to see or hear that side of him. “I know it’s late, I just– ”

“Nervous?” Uraume concluded with a nod.

“I don’t get nervous.”

“Sure…” The silence was thick enough to slice through the air. “So, why was I summoned here at three am.”

“Stop acting like you weren’t already awake.”

“Maybe I was busy.”

“You don’t have a life,” Sukuna smirked. “I am your life.”

“Whatever,” the white haired assistant grumbled with an eye roll. They sat on a barstool near the kitchen island, arms together, waiting for an explanation. 

Sukuna paced. “I don’t want any more damn water, but –” he walked back and forth around his large kitchen. “I love y/n, I really do. But for the first time in my life, something is happening to me that I can’t just overcome with my raw strength or power. It’s… unsettling.”

Uraume raised an eyebrow, watching as Sukuna continued his pacing like a caged animal. “You’re unsettled because this isn’t something you can just fight your way through. You actually have to feel it.”

Sukuna stopped mid-step, scowling at them. “Tch. Don’t start getting all philosophical on me.”

Uraume shrugged. “Just saying. You’re afraid of something, and it sure as hell isn’t her.”

Sukuna exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not afraid.” The words came out too fast, too defensive. Even he could hear it. He turned, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter. “It’s just… different. No opponent. No enemy. Just me deciding to be with her. And no matter how strong I am, I can’t control the future.”

Uraume tilted their head. “So? You still want to marry her, don’t you?”

Sukuna’s jaw clenched. His thoughts flickered to you, your laughter, the way you challenged him without fear, your unmistakable otherworldly beauty, your strength, the way your nails dig into his back when he’s giving it to you so good. The way your touch softened the jagged edges of his world.

“…Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “More than anything.”

Uraume smirked, standing up. “Then quit your bitching and go to sleep. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Sukuna groaned. “You’re so damn annoying.”

“Just returning the favor.”After a hug and a promise to be early at the wedding, Uraume let themself out. Sukuna trugged back to his bed and tried to get some rest. He really did try. His mind was flooded with thoughts of you and the joy you bring him. From memories of how you two met, fighting curses together, your first date, to the moment he proposed to you.

Fuck it. I have to see her.

Your window was unlocked. Again. As frustrating as it was, you forgetting to lock it, Sukuna was glad he had an easy way to get inside your room. Damn it, woman he thought. You’re gonna be the death of me.

You’re mumbling in your sleep when the movement and sound of your blankets rustling cause you to wake. You blink back your tiredness, head still pounding from the previous night. It takes a few moments until you spot those iconic black tattoos. Sukuna had made his way into your bed.

“K-kuna?” you gasp confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I just,” he started. He gently placed a large hand on your head, running it through your hair. “I needed to see you.”

“You know, it’s bad luck to see a bride on the day of her wedding,” you joked. Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding him close as you nuzzle into his touch. “You okay?”

“Tch. Of course, I am,” he scoffs, but the way his thumb brushes against your cheek betrays his words.

You hum sleepily, watching his sharp eyes soften under the dim light. “You sure? Because I think you might be the one getting cold feet.”

Sukuna huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re really testing me, sweetheart.”

You grin lazily. “Just making sure you’re not gonna ditch me at the altar.”

His grip tightens slightly, just enough to remind you of his strength. “I should be worried about you running off,” he mutters. “Wouldn’t put it past you to get second thoughts at the last second.”

You let out a soft giggle, shaking your head. “Not a chance.”

“Good.” There’s a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You better not change your mind, woman. If you leave me at the altar, I’ll burn the whole damn city down.”

Your body leans into him, so naturally. He gives you another kiss, this time on your mouth. And then another, each kiss getting more and more dominating. “I should take you right now. Make sure you know exactly who you belong to before you walk down that aisle.”

You gasp into his mouth, nodding at his offer. He’s already seen you. Your wedding luck can’t get any worse if you let him have his way with you. Each kiss of his seemingly takes your breath away. You're panting like an animal before Sukuna finally slows down, gripping the sheets instead. This isn’t the time, he thinks to himself.

As your breathing evens out, Sukuna pulls back, letting you lay on his chest. It only takes a few moments before you’re drifting off again and he’s watching the way your lips part slightly in sleep. His hand drags over your blankets before he finally pulls away, slipping out as quietly as he came. After seeing you, his head is clearer than ever. Once Sukuna reaches his home, he’s finally able to peacefully sleep.

The next time Sukuna opens his eyes, golden sunlight spills across his sheets, creeping up his bare chest like a silent reminder that today is the day.

For the first time in hours, he feels rested. No more restless pacing, no more unanswered questions. He knows what he wants. And in just a few hours, you’ll be his.

A sharp knock on the door pulls him from his thoughts.

“Get up,” Uraume’s voice cuts through the morning stillness. “It’s your wedding day.”

Sukuna exhales through his nose, running a hand down his face before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. As soon as he opens the door, Uraume pushes past him, already assessing the situation with their usual cold efficiency.

"At least you don’t look like shit," they remark, scanning his face.

Sukuna smirks. “And here I thought you were gonna say something sentimental.”

“Why would I start now?” Uraume shoves a garment bag into his chest. “Shower then get dressed.”

Sukuna sighs but doesn’t argue. He strips out of his sweatpants and steps into the bathroom, quickly showering before putting on his crisp, custom-tailored suit waiting for him. Black and red, sleek, fitted to perfection, because of course, he refuses to look anything less than perfect. His hands move on instinct, buttoning the cuffs, adjusting the collar.

As he fastens the last button, Uraume watches him carefully. “You’re really doing this.”

Sukuna meets their gaze in the mirror. His reflection stares back, tattoos sharp against his skin, eyes burning with something rare and untamed.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I am.”

A rare, knowing smile tugs at Uraume’s lips. “Then let’s go. Can’t have your bride waiting.”

The ride to the shrine is quiet. Sukuna stares out the tinted window, fingers tapping idly against his knee. Uraume sits beside him, but neither of them speak. There’s nothing to say.

For the first time in years, he’s not walking into a battlefield. No enemies to kill, no grudges to settle. Just a shrine filled with people waiting for him to witness him make a promise he never thought he’d be the type to make.

The car slows to a stop just outside Meiji Jingu Shrine, its towering torii gate standing tall against the early morning sky. The sun filters through the dense forest surrounding the grounds, casting golden rays onto the stone pathways leading to the main shrine complex. The air is crisp, laced with the faint scent of cypress and incense.

As soon as Sukuna steps out, a familiar voice calls his name.

"Uncle Sukuna!"

He turns just in time to catch Yuji barreling toward him, weaving past guests and attendants. The kid skids to a stop right before impact, grinning up at him with the same bright-eyed excitement that always makes Sukuna sigh. Choso follows at a slower pace, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his formal kimono, his expression more reserved.

"You look cool," Yuji says, rocking on his heels. "Like, scary cool. But also, like… kinda groom-y."

Sukuna scoffs. "That supposed to be a compliment?"

Yuji nods enthusiastically. "Obviously."

Choso elbows him lightly. "Don’t be annoying." Then, turning to Sukuna, he hesitates before muttering, "You clean up well."

Sukuna raises a brow. "That’s the best I’m getting?"

Choso shrugs. "Yeah."

Tch. Brats.

Still, he ruffles Yuji’s hair, earning a squawk of protest, and nods at Choso in acknowledgment. This was it. His nephews, the only family he had. And somehow, knowing they were here made something settle in his chest.

"Alright," Uraume cuts in, ever the practical one. "It’s time."

Sukuna exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders. Then, without another word, he steps beneath the torii gate, following the path leading toward the main shrine, where the rest of his life is waiting.

The path toward the shrine is lined with guests, all of them bowing their heads in respect. Sukuna doesn’t care for the formalities, but he appreciates their sincerity. This isn’t a day for indulgence or power, this is something deeper. Something... personal.

Yuji and Choso follow closely behind him, their presence a reminder of why he's here. His nephews, his family. The only ones who ever mattered to him. Their voices barely audible above the murmur of the crowd, until they scramble off to find their seats.

The main shrine comes into view, an elegant structure framed by tall trees and hanging lanterns. The guests are seated in rows, faces mostly unfamiliar, though a few nod their heads in recognition as he approaches.

He can already feel the weight of all their eyes on him. The anticipation. The expectation.

Just before he reaches the steps leading to the shrine, he quietly hands Uraume a small velvet box from his pocket. They take it without question.

It felt absurd to be holding onto them – the rings. Marriage, commitment, wasn’t something he ever saw himself doing. But here he is, with his past behind him and a future he never expected waiting ahead.

As he ascends the stairs, his mind drifts to you. You’re just beyond these doors. Waiting.

He could hear the soft murmurs of the crowd, feel their gazes tracing his every movement.

There’s no turning back now.

The thought flickers across his mind, but before he can give it too much attention, Nanami’s voice cuts through his thoughts, clear and sharp: “You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t believe it was worth it.”

His lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no denying the truth in those words. He’s here because, despite everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, this matters.

He doesn’t know when it happened, when you became more than just a fleeting moment in his life. The woman who challenged him. Who made him feel things he couldn’t control.

It doesn’t matter.

Sukuna steps inside the shrine, his heart thrumming in his chest, loud enough for him to hear it over the soft sounds of the ceremony music.

Nanami’s words echo again, not just in his mind, but in the space around him. The weight of the promise he’s about to make settles in with a gravity he can’t ignore.This is worth it. For you.

The moment the ceremony begins, Sukuna stands at the altar, his gaze momentarily flickering toward the door. The air is thick with anticipation, and the soft rustle of the crowd fades into a distant hum. Then, like a dream unfolding before his eyes, you step into the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the temple’s sacred light.

Your wedding dress is a vision of elegance, designed to make even the most confident man lose his composure. The black and red fabric hugs your body in all the right places before cascading into a soft, layered skirt that flows gracefully as you move. The lace is so soft, almost translucent, a whisper of romance in every stitch. The long, flowing train drags gently behind you, catching the light with each step, creating an almost dreamlike aura as you make your way toward Sukuna.

His breath catches in his throat the second his eyes land on you, and for a moment, the world around him blurs. His heart beats a little faster, more erratically than usual, as if the weight of the moment has hit him all at once. You're breathtaking. This vision of you in this dress, is nothing like anything he ever imagined. He can’t look away, his sharp red eyes drinking in the sight of you as though he's afraid this moment will slip away if he dares to blink.

Sukuna can’t help but feel a tightness in his chest as he watches you approach, the red veil adding to your allure, making the moment feel all the more surreal. This woman, walking towards him, is no longer just the one who challenged him: she is the one who has captured his heart in a way he never thought possible.

You walk toward him, and despite the crowd’s presence, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to pull you into his arms, but he remains still, unable to tear his gaze away. His heart swells with pride, love, and an emotion he rarely allows himself to feel so fully. You are his everything.

On your slow descent toward the love of your life, you hear lots of happy chants and whistles from your co-workers. The loudest of them all being from the one and only Satoru Gojo. You shake your head at his aloofness and keep your composure.

When you reach the altar, Sukuna’s hand finally moves, the tremor in his fingers betraying his usual confident demeanor. He reaches out for you, his thumb brushing against your hand as if confirming you're really here, with him, in this moment. The dress, the ceremony, everything fades as he pulls you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're perfect," Sukuna mutters under his breath, a soft growl of appreciation that somehow, only you can hear. There's a flicker of something deep in his eyes, something tender, something real. His lips press together in a firm line as he forces himself to maintain his composure, but the awe in his expression is undeniable.

Like a deadly silent ninja, Uraume quickly sneaks past the old priest to hand him the rings then back to their seat. 

The priest smiles, happily accepting them. The soft murmur of the crowd fades into silence as you and Sukuna stand facing each other, hands clasped tightly. 

“We gather today to witness the union of y/n and Sukuna under the guidance of the kami," the short man starts. "Let us call upon the divine spirits to bless this marriage.” The man opens up the box with the rings, then gestures for you and Sukuna to take them. He nods, signalling for you two to state your vows.

The weight of the moment hangs between you; this promise, these words, are more than just tradition. They're a reflection of everything you've both experienced, everything you’ve shared, and everything that lies ahead.

Sukuna’s gaze doesn’t waver from you as he begins, his voice steady but filled with depth, “I won’t lie and say I always believed in something like this. In love, in a promise like marriage. But you, Y/N… you’re different. You’ve turned everything I knew upside down. You’ve made me want to be someone better. So today, I vow to you, with everything I am, that I will never stop fighting for you.” He takes your ring and slides it onto your finger.

His voice drops lower, softer, yet the intensity of his words cuts through the air like a blade, sharp and true. “I vow to protect you, no matter the cost. To shield you from the world, and to make sure that, for as long as I breathe, nothing comes between us. You are mine, and I am yours. And I will never, ever let you go. Even if the world itself crumbles, I will stand by your side.”

He pauses, his eyes softening as they meet yours. For a brief moment, you catch the flicker of vulnerability in them, something raw, something real. He inhales, then continues, his words heavy with sincerity, “I vow to stand by your side, not just as your husband, but as your equal. To never let you feel alone, to always listen when you speak, and to give you everything I have. My loyalty, my strength, and all my love.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, a rush of emotions surging through you. Sukuna, the same man who once swore he’d never be tied down, now stands before you, giving you these promises, words that hold weight far beyond what any ring or ceremony could represent. The tears you are fighting so hard to keep back start to overflow, softly drifting down your cheeks.

His lips curl into a rare, soft smile, one only you could elicit, and he finishes, his voice steady but imbued with something deeper than words, “I vow to be yours in every way, now and forever.”

The crowd stays silent, but you feel the energy of the moment, the promise that is now sealed between you both.

You take a deep breath, feeling the gravity of what you’re about to say, and when you speak, your voice is clear and unwavering, despite the emotions swirling inside you. “I used to believe that love was just a word, a concept meant to keep people tied to promises they couldn’t keep. But then you came into my life, and everything changed. You showed me that love isn’t just about words or gestures. It’s about the actions, the choices we make, every single day.”

You take his ring and slide it onto his finger, your hands trembling slightly. “So today, I vow to you that I will stand by you, in the good and the bad, when the world is bright and when it’s dark. I vow to never give up on us, no matter the challenges we face. I promise to face them with you, because together, we’re unstoppable.”

You take another breath, meeting his eyes with a fierce sincerity. “I vow to love you, with everything I have, every single day. To choose you, even when it’s hard, and to never let go of what we’ve built. I promise to be your strength when you falter, your peace when the world is too much, and your home, always.”

A brief moment of silence passes between you, as if the weight of your words is sinking in, deep into your hearts. 

“I vow to honor you, not just as my husband, but as my equal, my partner, my family,” you whisper, your eyes never leaving his. “I’ll never let you feel unimportant, never let you feel alone. You’re the reason I can face the future with hope. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never have to face it without me by your side.”

Sukuna’s breath catches at the weight of your words, and for a moment, you both are lost in each other’s gaze—the vows hanging in the air, binding you together forever.

Finally, the old priest smiles, his voice soft as he claps and says, “You have both expressed your vows, your promises to each other. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

The crowd exhales in unison, the sound of applause echoing through the shrine, but all Sukuna hears is the steady rhythm of his heart. Out of the corner of his eye, Sukuna sees Geto throwing his fist into the air and Gojo waving a sign that says “Death of a Bachelor.” (Gojo’s handwriting is abysmal)

Without hesitation, Sukuna’s hand tightens around yours, and he leans down, pushing back your veil, pulling you close. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s anything but soft. It’s rough, commanding, and filled with the intensity of everything he’s promised. It’s a kiss that doesn’t hold back, just as he never does. The passion behind it burns hot, sealing the vows with the raw, undeniable force of his love. The tenderness he’s capable of is there, but it’s wrapped in the fierceness that defines him: no hesitation, no doubt.

For a brief moment, time stands still, the kiss, everything and nothing all at once, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is real. This is your forever.

The after-party began immediately, the transition from ceremony to celebration seamless. After a few obligatory photos, some formal, some candid (and more than a few where Sukuna looked like he was barely tolerating the process), he wasted no time leading you to the dance floor, his grip firm yet possessive around your hand.

The guests expected the first dance to be a typical “slow, romantic, something traditional” type song. Instead, the opening chords of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" echoed through the venue, the deep, familiar melody sending a ripple of surprise through the crowd.

You looked up at Sukuna, half amused, half touched. Of course, he'd do something unexpected. And yet, as he pulled you into his arms, swaying with effortless confidence, you knew there wasn’t a song more fitting for the two of you.

Your hands slid up to rest behind his neck, fingers tracing the short hairs at his nape. He held your waist, guiding you with an ease that made it feel as if you'd danced together a thousand times before. The world faded away as you moved in sync, each step, each turn, every brush of your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understood.

Sukuna leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured along with the song, his voice husky and deliberate. “No, nothing else matters.”

Your chest tightened, your heart swelling with so much joy it felt like it might burst. You tilted your head back just enough to meet his gaze, and the look in his eyes made your stomach flip. There was no one else in this moment. Just you and him.

When the song ended, a small, energetic pink blur rushed toward you.

"Uncle Sukuna, dance with me!" Yuji beamed up at him, his excitement boundless as he tugged on his sleeve. Behind him, Choso and Nanami approached, both at a more measured pace, Nanami looking like he wasn’t quite sure how he ended up here.

Sukuna let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "Tch. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, brat."

Yuji just grinned wider, grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor. The sight of Sukuna, formidable, untouchable Sukuna, humoring a child in the middle of his own wedding made your heart swell even more. Even Choso looked a little softer as he stood beside you, watching his little brother with something close to fondness.

Maybe someday you can have your own child with him.

You used the moment to mingle, accepting congratulations from guests, exchanging a few teasing words with Utahime, and even sharing a drink with Shoko and Nanami, who looked vaguely exhausted, but resigned to the festivities.

Eventually, Sukuna found his way back to you, as if drawn by an invisible thread, like he couldn’t stand to be away from you for too long. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“It’ll be time for us to go soon,” he murmured, his voice low and promising. “I’ve got plans for us.” The smirk he wore was nothing short of sinful, and the heat in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

Your fingers curled into his jacket, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “What kind of plans?”

Sukuna chuckled, his grip tightening just enough to make you feel it. “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.”

And with that, the night continued, filled with laughter, stolen kisses, and the unshakable certainty that no matter what came next, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As the night stretched on, laughter and music filled the air, the energy never waning. But soon, the time came for the final part of the evening: the send-off. 

Surprisingly, Mei Mei had volunteered to help pack your honeymoon wardrobe. Probably, because she got to shop for everything herself, and the world knows that woman can shop.

Someone, probably Uraume, had rallied the guests to gather outside, lining the grand pathway leading to the sleek, black car waiting at the end. Lanterns and soft golden lights illuminated the space, casting a warm glow over the night. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as everyone took their place, sparklers in hand, the flickering embers mirroring the stars overhead.

Sukuna stood beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders in a loose but possessive hold. He watched the scene with a raised brow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "Tch. Is all this really necessary?"

You laughed, nudging him lightly. “Let them have their fun. It’s not every day the mighty Sukuna gets married.”

His smirk was sharp as he leaned in. “Not every day someone makes me want to.”

The moment the two of you stepped forward, the crowd erupted into cheers. Sparks danced in the air as the sparklers lit up the path, and you felt the heat of Sukuna’s palm as he laced his fingers with yours. He led you forward, your steps slow at first, taking in the smiling faces, the warmth, the love that surrounded you.

Yuji and Ino were the loudest, waving their sparklers aggressively. Nanami stood off to the side, his nod of approval as subtle as ever. Uraume watched from the distance, arms crossed, but their lips twitched slightly, almost like they were proud.

Gojo, of course, was the most obnoxious.

“MY BOY! LOOK AT HIM!” He whistled loudly, practically bouncing on his feet. “DIDN’T THINK I’D LIVE TO SEE THE DAY!”

Shoko, standing beside him with a drink in hand, smirked. “I give it six months before she realizes what a pain in the ass he is.”

Mei Mei hummed in amusement. “I would’ve put money on him staying a bachelor forever. Guess love really does make fools out of us all.”

Geto chuckled from beside her, arms crossed. “If nothing else, it’ll be entertaining to see him domesticated.”

Sukuna acted as if he hadn’t heard any of them, but you felt the way his fingers flexed slightly around yours, the way his grip tightened like he was restraining himself from turning around and making very impolite comments.

Halfway down the path, Sukuna suddenly stopped. Before you could ask why, he turned to face you, eyes gleaming with something dark and unreadable. Then, in front of everyone, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a deep, searing kiss, one meant to remind you, and everyone watching, exactly who you belonged to.

The crowd lost it.

Yuji let out a dramatic groan. “OH COME ON! GET A ROOM!”

Gojo cheered obnoxiously. “YEAH! THAT’S MY KING!” He clapped loudly, nudging Geto. “Tell me that wasn’t the smoothest shit you’ve ever seen.”

Geto sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. “I hate that I agree with you.”

Shoko rolled her eyes, raising her drink. “Cheers to that poor woman. She’s in for a lifetime of that.”

A mixture of cheers, whistles, and dramatic groans (most likely from Yuji) filled the air. When he pulled back, Sukuna looked maddeningly pleased with himself. “Had to make sure they know you're mine before I take you away.”

Your breath was shaky, but you managed to roll your eyes. “Pretty sure they already know.” You wave your hand with the wedding ring and wiggle your fingers.

With that, he led you the rest of the way to the car. The door was held open, and before you could so much as settle in, Sukuna was right beside you, his hand already back on your thigh. The car pulled away, the glow of the sparklers fading into the distance, and with it, the last remnants of the wedding night.

Sukuna exhaled, finally alone with you. His fingers traced slow circles over your skin. “You ready for the real fun to begin?”

Your stomach fluttered, anticipation thick in the air. “I should be asking you that.”

His grin was sharp, dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what you're in for.”

And with that, your honeymoon truly began.

<- Part 1

A/N I meant for this to be short, but I got carried away writing. I hope you guys enjoy the fluff though <3 Only one more chapter left of this story :)

not sure if you wanted to be tagged but just in case you did: @moonchhu

masterlist | jjk masterlist

[hannahbarberra162]

Under the Microscope, Chapter 12 (Yandere Sabo x Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

TW: light violence and gore at the beginning, medical whump afterwards.

All the other chapters

Sabo POV

Sabo was always in control. He always had been, always had to be. First he had to control himself around his biological family, pretending to think like them and pretending to like them. Next came Ace and it went without saying that Sabo was the one who kept his cool. Ace was brash and emotional, always getting them into trouble while Sabo was the one getting them out. Not to say he didn’t like it - Ace was his brother, his twin, his mirror. 

And Luffy was his own situation entirely.

At work, Sabo was the chief of staff and as such had tremendous responsibility to his subordinates. He ran meetings, planned raids and battles, kept the organization flowing smoothly. He was in his element, controlling the coming and going of the RA with ease.

Sabo never drank in excess either, never once blacked out, never did drugs. He always wanted to be mentally available and secure in the knowledge that he'd be able to do whatever was needed. On the island, Ace was prone to getting black out drunk and often tried to get Sabo to join in. Sabo didn't see the purpose behind it but dutifully held Ace's hair back from his face when he was puking the next day.

Sabo never acted out of passion or anger on the battlefield, using his wits as a weapon in conjunction with his pipe. He had heard stories about people seeing red and losing themselves during difficult fights, but Sabo never felt that way. Fighting was part of his job, it was rarely personal. 

And yet, Sabo had no memory of the massacre he and Ace committed against the Marines who had hurt Sunny. Sabo wasn’t one for purposeless carnage, he tried his best to keep fatalities to a minimum on his missions. The last thing he remembered was telling Sunny to close her eyes but everything after that was lost. He snapped back to reality when Ace grabbed his arm and held it back, preventing him from swinging again. 

“I think they're dead enough Sabo,” Ace said with a grimace, glancing down. Looking at the deck, Sabo saw a head that had been bashed in beyond recognition with only a pool of brain and bones left on the deck.

Looking down, he realized he wasn’t even on the deck of the RA ship anymore. Somehow he was standing on the Red Dog’s Den, the Marine ship that had come to attack them. Getting his bearings, he saw Ace shoving charred corpses off the side of the ship, joining the hundreds below. The ocean was full of corpses in various states of destruction bobbing gently in the red tinged water. The Sea Kings would be eating well, that was for sure. Sabo could pretend that he felt bad for killing all those Marines, but he didn’t. They deserved what was coming to them for trying to kill Ace and hurting…

“Ace, where’s Sunny?!” Sabo yelled frantically, searching desperately for her smaller form on the deck of the burning RA ship. If he had hurt Sunny in the melee, he would -

“She’s already in the infirmary, Iva took her. She’s on this ship, the RA commandeered it,” Ace said, kicking a Marine corpse off the ship. 

“Are all the Marines dead?” Sabo asked, knocking the brains off his pipe with the sole of his boot. 

“Yeah, we got ‘em all. There were like, thousands of ‘em. Some made it to the RA ship but you set it on fire so…” Ace shrugged as he trailed off. Killing wasn’t new to either of them but Ace was lost in his thoughts, Sabo had seen the far away look in his eyes before. Sabo didn’t have time right now, he would catch up with Ace after he saw Sunny was alive. Tearing off for the stairs down to the lower levels, Sabo gripped his pipe tighter in his hand as he practically flew down the halls to the infirmary. If there was one thing he liked about Marine ships it was that they were all built with the same design. He’d been on a similar ship a few years back and they hadn’t made any significant changes to the style.

Bursting through the door of the infirmary, Sabo scanned the area quickly for Sunny. There were RA soldiers in some of the beds, most of them looked alright though some would need extensive help from Iva. As Chief of Staff he would have to ensure the health and wellbeing of his soldiers but right now he could only think of one person. Barging down the aisle, he saw Iva’s purple curly hair in the window to a patient room. Skidding to a halt in front of the door, Sabo composed himself for a moment before turning the handle and entering the room. 

Iva was patting your arm as you lay in the clinic bed. Bandages covered nearly all of your visible skin, some of which still had bright red blood seeping through. Your hands were cocooned in bandages, none of your digits free from the wrappings. The portions of your face that Sabo could see were bruised with broken blood vessels beneath the skin, your jaw at an angle that suggested it was broken. If he had been watching for you, if he’d been faster, if he’d seen you on the deck sooner, he could have prevented all of this from happening to you. He couldn’t ever repay his debt to you for saving his brother using your brilliant mind and your devil fruit power. Now that he thought about it, he’d left you in seastone, how had you removed it to save Ace?

Mulling it over, the door creaked as Sabo opened it slowly so as not to disturb your sleep. As he approached you his stomach roiled with the obvious extent of your injuries. He hadn’t seen all that much of your assault but he already knew you weren’t a fighter. You didn’t have combat experience and probably hadn’t taken a punch since basic training. Sabo knew you weren’t able to defend yourself, that’s what he had promised to do for you. And he’d failed, not only you, but Ace as well. He couldn’t protect you, couldn’t protect Ace, what was the point of being strong if it didn’t help those he loved. 

“Sabo boy, I - I don’t know what to say,” Iva said, your chest rising and falling under her gaze. Sabo didn’t either, the two of them watching the IV lines slowly dripping medicine into your destroyed body. After a few minutes Iva continued, “I know what to say - she saved Ace’s life,” Iva said quietly, still touching your arm. You were hooked up to IVs and had drainage lines coming out of your mouth, reminding Sabo of the first time he’d taken you on a ship. Kidnapped you, really. Sabo set his hat down on a side table, unstrapping his pipe and setting it aside.

“She’s stable but heavily injured. She’ll make it through, none of her injuries are life threatening. I didn’t use adrenaline- it wouldn’t have helped her, just kept her awake and in pain. I’m going to check on the others, make sure things are tied up. Stay with her for a few minutes, Sabo boy. She’s a hero,” Iva said softly, pushing your hair out of your face. You didn’t move or react at all, nothing to indicate that there was anything left of you besides your still breathing body. Iva stood up, clapping Sabo on the shoulder and giving him an encouraging pat as she left. He dropped into the chair Iva vacated. The adrenaline rush from before was fading and Sabo had so much more to do. 

Sabo leaned over the bed, getting a closer look at you as your chest rose and fell evenly. The left side of your face was nearly black and it was particularly pronounced around your left eye. He reached for you with his hands but retracted them when he saw that his gloves were no longer brown but red with blood. It didn’t bother Sabo particularly to know that he’d just been on a murder spree but he didn’t want to infect any of your open wounds. Clutching his knees, he bowed his head, his blonde hair falling in his face.

“Sunny, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m so sorry. I can’t- I wasn’t there in time to protect you. And that was a promise that I made to you when I took you - that I’d be protecting and taking care of you from then on and I  - I didn’t keep it. I can’t thank you enough for saving Ace. I’ll be th-thanking you for the rest of my life,” Sabo said, wiping away the tears that were now falling from his eyes. 

“I’m suh-sorry, Sunny,” Sabo sobbed, crossing his arms on your cot and laying his head down. 

Sunny POV

You’d been tired for weeks, for months, for years. You couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t felt tired in your adult life. But you’d never felt like this before. Anytime you were able to open your eyes and groggily wake up you wished you were asleep again. It felt like all your bones had been replaced by metal screws, constantly tightening and keeping you in pain. After the first time you woke, you shut your eyes again moments later. To be awake was to be in pain and you couldn’t bear it. The nurses gave you painkillers around the clock to keep you comfortable and you didn’t protest as they kept you tucked deep in sleep, far away from the pain of reality.

The first time you woke up, you thought you were back at your old base. You had a few nightmares during your time with Sabo in which you were back in the Marines and they were going to throw you into the brig for fraternizing with wanted pirates. So when you woke and found yourself in a Marine patient gown on a Marine ship, your confused brain took it for reality. 

You began to panic as you realized your body wasn’t working like you remembered. Your jaw was wired shut, you couldn’t see out of your left eye, and you were in hard casts from your hands to your shoulders. The only place left free were your legs, which were black and blue from internal bleeding. You tried turning your head to get your bearings but it hurt too much to turn very far. An alarm went off near you making you shrink back from the sound. Nearly as fast as the alarm went off, a short, raven haired man came by and turned it off. He wasn’t wearing any kind of Marine uniform and you didn’t recognize him by sight. He was talking at you as your brain tried to catch up to what was happening.

“Good morning, Sunshine! Or afternoon at least. I’m Logan, one of the RA nurses. You’ve been sleeping for quite some time - a few days now. After I get you up I’ll go get Sabo, he’ll be excited to see you’re awake,” he yapped at you as he moved you to sitting carefully as you whined from the painful sensation. RA nurses? On the Marine ship? You struggled to put the pieces together as you tried to recall anything you could from the fight. Logan left you for a moment and you let your head loll to the side. Sabo…you remembered seeing him standing above you, his pipe dripping in blood as he set his gaze on the Marines in front of you.

It was mere moments before Sabo’s top hat appeared in the window of your room. Logan opened the door for Sabo, who stood with his mouth open in the doorway.

“Sunny - I - you - you’re awake,” Sabo sputtered while staring at you, as if spellbound. You couldn’t answer very well due to your jaw but after a moment standing there frozen, he moved towards you slowly. 

“Sunny -” he repeated, reaching his gloved hand out to you as if to stroke your cheek. It wasn’t intentional but you flinched as his hand came close to your face. Sabo had never hurt you but the last memories you had were of someone beating you to death. Sabo’s fingers curled into his palm as he frowned and sat down in the chair by the bed. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, I came here as soon as I heard you were awake. Are you - do you remember who I am?” he asked softly, leaning in closer. You looked at him warily but nodded. “Do you know where you are? What happened?” he continued, his eyes roving over your face. You tilted your head from side to side to indicate that you sort of remembered but the rapid movement made your head hurt. His hands gripped the railing on the side of your bed as he began speaking to you.

“We’re on the Marine ship that was fighting us. You saved Ace’s life and the Marines started to attack you. I got there as soon as I could but I…I wasn’t fast enough to help you before you got hurt. Ace and I - we took care of the Marines and you’ve been here ever since then. It’s been about 4 days since the explosion. We’ve commandeered the Marine ship and are using it to sail to an RA rendezvous point where we’ll switch to another RA ship since we can’t be sure this one isn’t compromised -” Sabo kept talking but your mind felt like it was completely full so you shut your eyes to process what he’d told you so far. Sabo stopped talking and the room lapsed into silence.

“I’m sorry Sunny. I’m sorry I didn’t p-protect you, that you got h-hurt. I told you -” You opened your working eye to see that Sabo had started crying, tears coming out of his right eye as the other remained dry. It was incomprehensible to you that someone like Sabo would cry, especially over someone like you. Wanting to comfort him, you lifted your bandaged arm, the very one he’d put the seastone bracelet on, and patted his hand. Sabo’s head snapped up as he searched your face. He covered your hand with his own gently, like any pressure would break your bones further.

“Sunny -” he started to talk again but you were worn out from the ordeal. You let him hold your hand as his sniffles continued, trying to give him a reassuring look as much as you could. You tried to say his name before drifting off to sleep again but weren’t sure you quite made it.

From there on, you came to consciousness in bits and spurts. It reminded you of the last time Sabo had given you drugs for seasickness but this time you felt like you were still dreaming anytime you were awake. There would be different nurses attending to you but upon hearing you were awake Sabo would come within minutes, no matter the time of day or night. Sometimes he stayed for hours and sometimes only for a few minutes but it was always nice to see his familiar face. He talked to you a lot - sometimes you understood and followed what he said but sometimes you just let him speak at you as your unfocused mind drifted. 

You wanted to see and ask about Ace but it often slipped out of your mind before you could say anything. You tried to grunt Ace’s name to get Sabo to understand but it was difficult for anyone to understand anything you said. Once you thought you heard Ace talking to Sabo outside your room so you listened eagerly.

“ - have to call him,” Sabo pleaded.

“I - it’s complicated. I haven’t seen him since Marineford and I don’t -” Ace started to say, sounding unsure of himself. You wished he would come into your room so you could hug and talk to him but you hadn't seen him yet when you were awake.

“Sunny needs him. She saved your life, I think you can put your feelings on hold,” Sabo replied icily. There was a beat of silence between the brothers before Ace sighed and answered. 

“Of course, you’re right. I’ll call now, I think I still have his number,” Ace mumbled as his voice got quieter and you heard him stomping away. You watched the window in the door hoping to finally see Ace but he wasn’t there. Yawning widely, you reminded yourself to ask Sabo about Ace. After spending that month together you were fairly familiar with Ace and you were getting worried about his extended absence. 

Time passed quickly as you recuperated in your bed, snowed under the heavy painkilling drugs you were given. You were never quite sure when you'd wake up so you tried to just let time wash over you. Sabo was your most frequent visitor, followed by Iva. For someone as vibrant as they were, Iva toned themselves down in your presence. You enjoyed time with both of them but you really wanted to see Ace. Sabo told you he hadn’t left again, that he was still on the ship and would be until the rendezvous point but he hadn’t stopped by. Well, not when you were awake. Once when you woke up you saw Ace’s cowboy hat on the table by the window and another time you thought you saw him leaving the room as you started to stir. You didn’t know what you did to upset him but you wished he would give you a chance to talk to him. 

But that was another problem. Your current physical state was so weak that you couldn’t do anything for yourself. Sabo had given you the rundown of your extensive injuries - broken jaw, broken ribs, internal bleeding, fractured skull, broken fingers, traumatic brain injury and more. As much as your broken bones pained you, you figured that they’d heal eventually. You’d been awake a few times when your bandages were being changed but you’d been too cowardly to look at your own body and see the carnage. You were much more worried about your left eye - you still couldn’t control it or see out of it. It was like half the world was suddenly torn away and there wasn’t anything you could do to get it back. Sabo said there was still hope that you’d be able to recover your eyesight so you tried to stop yourself from needlessly worrying about it. It didn’t work, but you tried. 

Being unable to move meant two things that you disliked equally. One was that you were now dependent on others for nearly everything. When you had to eat, nurses held drinks or food in cups with straws in front of your mouth and had to wait on you until you were finished. Your wired jaw prevented you from speaking while your bandaged hands made you unable to hold anything or write down what you wanted. Your methods of communication had been reduced to pointing in the general direction of what you wanted and grunting. It was trying, to say the least. 

The other thing that you didn’t like was that now there was no distracting you from your thoughts. Not only that but as you began to stay awake for longer periods of time you wanted to do things to occupy your mind. Sabo left you some scientific journals but since you had lost vision in your eye, it took you three times as long to read anything and process the information. You became tired very easily and had to rest often from something as inane as sitting up. You couldn’t write or magnify due to your broken fingers, you couldn’t speak due to your jaw, you could barely read. It was absolutely miserable and you looked forward to the times that your nurses would give you your meds not only for the pain relief but so you could slip into sleep and avoid being awake.

There was one benefit to having your jaw wired shut though - you were able to avoid deep conversations with Sabo. There was so much to discuss, so much left unsaid but in your current state you weren’t able to respond. Sabo apologized to you frequently, always self flagellating over the actions that led you to where you were now. You wanted to tell him to stop beating himself up, that he’d saved your life in return, that you’d always choose Ace and that you had no regrets over your actions. You did have some feelings about the sea stone bracelet but you'd sort that out later as well. Eventually the two of you would have to have those conversations but for the time being you could just avoid them all together.

In your current state, Sabo was attentive to you and took on a great deal of the responsibility for caring for you when he was with you. He often fed you or gave you water, patiently waiting for you to finish no matter how long it took or who asked for his attention. Sometimes you woke up to see Sabo’s hat on your nightstand and Sabo sleeping in the chair in the corner of the room. Since the event Sabo had stopped touching you outside of what was necessary. He convened with the nurses on staff and kept you informed of your progress when you were awake. You found yourself thankful for Sabo’s presence among all the strangers who were treating you. You yearned for Ace to visit but Sabo’s mouth went tight whenever you tried to grunt or sign for Ace in some way. Sabo assured you Ace was alright, that he was just stewing and would come out of it eventually. 

One day (morning? afternoon?) you woke and heard voices talking outside your door. You perked up as you heard Ace’s voice talking to Sabo, maybe he’d finally come in and spend time with you. Sabo said Ace was having a hard time and didn’t want you to see him like that but you didn’t care, you just missed your friend. You tried to listen in as best you could to the muffled voices.

“- be nice. She -” Ace sounded nervous again but you couldn’t see him. You imagined he might be gripping the brim of his hat in his hands, moving nervously from one foot to the other.

“What do you mean ‘be nice’ yoi? I’m nice to everyone. Besides, I know. Everyone knows what she did. It’s alright Ace, come in with me to see her,” an unfamiliar voice replied calmly. 

“No, I can’t. She doesn’t want to see me,” Ace mumbled. You sat up even higher in your bed and tried to make noise to let him know that you desperately wanted to see him. But of course, your wired jaw prevented anything more than an animalistic grunt from leaving your mouth.

“That’s not true and you know it. I’ve been telling you that she’s been asking-” you heard Sabo rebut to Ace with the request you’d tried to deliver a few times.

“I’ll be on the deck when you’re done,” Ace said with finality. You’d heard that tone many times before and it didn’t bode well for your chances to see him. Falling back on your pillows you waited for the unfamiliar person to enter your room with Sabo. You knew that your reaction times were slowed due to having only one eye currently working but you still did a double take upon seeing another of your scientific heroes walking in through your door - Marco the Phoenix.

Your eyes widened as he walked towards you, the Whitebeard tattoo prominently displayed on his chest under his open shirt and doctor’s coat. You weren’t sure that it was hygienic to have your nipples exposed while treating patients but you certainly weren’t going to argue with someone who could cure injury with their devil fruit. 

“Sunny, this is Marco the Phoenix, you may have heard of him. He and Ace were Commanders under Whitebeard together and he was the ship’s physician. He’s going to try to help your recovery if that is okay with you,” Sabo explained. You figured it was something like that but you were glad Sabo was telling you anyway. You nodded rapidly, it had been a lifelong dream to see Marco work.

“Wow, Sunny’s eager to meet you,” Sabo remarked with amusement, noting the gleam in your eye. You nodded even as a slight flush came to your cheeks from the attention.

“It’s an honor to meet you as well yoi,” Marco said with an easy smile. “You’re quite the person of interest in the New World right now,” he continued, snapping on medical gloves. You rolled your eyes, as if you could compare to the brilliance and splendor of Marco the Phoenix.

“Wait Sunny, how did you know about Marco? I thought you don’t know any famous pirates- oh. Let me guess - Marco published a paper in some medical journal?” Sabo asked dryly, giving you an eyebrow raise. You nodded even more enthusiastically, wishing you had your copies on hand for him to sign. 

“I didn’t know anyone actually read those,” Marco said with a small laugh, unwinding his stethoscope from around his neck.

“What were they about?” Sabo asked. You wished you could gush about Marco’s work on cell death and disease impact factors but your jaw was still unmoving. Marco sat down on a stool near the bed and scooted closer to you. You didn’t realize how tall he was, even sitting he still loomed over you. Putting the stethoscope in his ears, he tapped the drum and began speaking to you.

“They’re not that interesting, I promise yoi,” Marco said with a grin. You frowned and huffed as best you could, you found them fascinating and were sure Sabo would too. “I’ll give you a routine assessment first, nothing that you haven’t already experienced. There aren’t any doctors on the RA crew but the nurses have been doing a fantastic job. I want to see where your injuries are in the healing process and determine what the next steps will be. Is that alright with you yoi?” Marco asked, his hands still on his stethoscope. You nodded, a little ashamed of the state of your body.

“Alright, I’m going to start with your internal injuries and work my way to the external ones. Are you knowledgeable about anatomy and physiology?” Marco asked. Sabo scoffed at the question even as you tilted your head from side to side in a “so so” meaning.

“She is, she’s underselling her intelligence again. She’s the world’s leading scientist on lineage factors, she knows more than anyone else in this hemisphere,” Sabo bragged on your behalf as you shook your head. If you were able to talk, you’d argue that you knew a lot about the human body at the microscopic level but not as much as a physician would about disease processes or treating injuries. 

“So you must be the one who made Ace his new Mera Mera as well?” Marco asked, his hands palpating your tender jaw. You nodded shyly as the doctor began his examination. 

Sabo POV

Sabo watched you flush even further as Marco complimented your skills and intelligence. Sabo knew it was a trick to keep you from focusing too much on your physical examination but it still annoyed him ever so slightly. Obviously, Marco wasn’t going to swoop in and take you away, Marco had retired as a pirate and was living on Whitebeard’s old home island. And yet, Marco was charming, charismatic, and you already liked him based on his intelligence. Sabo’s feelings of jealousy wormed through his gut as Marco spoke to you and assessed your condition.

Sabo’s feelings were compounded by the fact that he’d pulled back from you recently, wanting you to feel as comfortable as possible. He tried to spend all his limited free time with you but he always felt like it wasn’t enough. You always looked exhausted, even more than when he first met you. He knew you didn’t like depending on others after a lifetime of independence so he tried to give you as much emotional space as possible. Every time he saw your mitten bandaged hands it reminded him of that day all over again, of all that you’d given up for him and his brother. Which was why Sabo had forced Ace to call Marco despite his deep objections. 

Ace had railed that Marco hated him, that he wouldn’t want to see him ever again, that Marco blamed Ace for Whitebeard’s death, that Marco blamed Ace for Blackbeard becoming an Emperor, the list went on and on. Sabo argued that none of that was true but Ace hadn’t budged. Sabo had resorted to bringing Ace down to the infirmary to look at you in recovery before Ace had agreed to call Marco. Hopefully Marco could heal your physical injuries then help Ace with his emotional ones. Ace had needed to speak with Marco for a long time and this would be a good opportunity to force the reunion.

Marco was an efficient doctor, checking Sunny over quickly but thoroughly. Sabo had to look away as Marco had skimmed his long fingers over your broken ribs, not wanting you to see his displeased face. Soon enough, Marco was rolling back from your bed and writing down notes on your chart. He had clipped and removed the wire from your jaw in anticipation of healing your bones shortly. You clutched Sabo’s hand as pain relief as Marco delicately removed the metal from your face. For what felt like the millionth time, Sabo wished he could bear the pain for you instead of watching helplessly from the sidelines.

“I’m going to start healing you yoi. I’m going to begin with your head then move down to your hands. I’m guessing you are itching for some independence,” Marco said, placing his stethoscope in the pocket of his doctor’s coat and removing his gloves, throwing them in the metal trash can. He raised his right hand with a smile, his hand already enveloped in blue flames. You nodded rapidly, excited for the scientific opportunity as Sabo smiled to himself.

“Start with her hands, she’s going to want to watch you heal on a microscopic level,” Sabo suggested while tossing you an indulgent look. You enthusiastically nodded at Sabo’s words and tried to grunt the word “please” to Marco.

“Sabo knows you well it seems. It doesn’t really make a difference where I start, I’m happy to begin with your hands yoi. My only request is that I also get to see the magnifications, I admit I’m incredibly curious,” Marco said, beginning to unwrap your hands. Sabo hid his reaction as he saw your deformed fingers set straight with braces. Your wistful gaze when you had looked at the clear night sky told him all he needed to know about your feelings towards the loss of your powers even after you’d gotten the seastone he’d put on you off. Sabo had put seastone on himself for a day during your initial recovery as penance but it wasn’t even close to what you’d had to endure.

Marco held your hands in his own, making you blush and look away. Marco looked at Sabo and mouthed the word “cute,” giving him a wink. Sabo didn’t react to the teasing doctor but shifted on his feet, waiting impatiently for your hands to be healed. Ace told Sabo that Marco’s healing flames weren’t painful but Sabo worried anyway, searching your face for any sign of pain. The only thing he saw was fascination as you watched the Phoenix fire dance over your skin. A few moments later, Marco took away his hands, letting you flex and bend your fingers slowly. 

“They might be a little sore but they should be completely healed. Let me know if anything still hurts,” Marco added, now putting his hands on either side of your head. You held up your index finger in a sign for “wait,” and quickly made a rectangle with your fingers, moving the magnification to where Marco’s hands were in anticipation of him healing your jaw. Giving him a thumbs up to Marco, you waited eagerly, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. Sabo wanted to kiss you right there but knew it wasn’t appropriate. Marco began again and you magnified the area. You shook your hands rapidly as Sabo watched cells dance inside the magnification. 

“Wow, I had no idea - this is incredible yoi. Look at that mitochondria you can even see -” Marco had taken his hand off the left side of your face to point out the detail of the cristae.

“Focus Marco,” Sabo snapped, wanting your torment to be over as quickly as possible. Marco raised an eyebrow at Sabo’s words and gave him a sharp look. Sabo had a feeling that if Sunny wasn't in the room Marco's talons would shortly be meeting Sabo's own.

“I assure you I’m focused yoi. I’ve been healing broken bones since before you were born Sabo,” Marco tossed at him. 

“I apologize,” Sabo quickly supplied. He wasn’t in the position to bark orders at someone doing a huge favor, much less Ace’s former crewmate and lover. 

“It’s alright, a lot of boyfriends get nervous yoi,” Marco said with a laugh, tension already gone. Sunny rolled her eyes at Marco’s words but was still unable to respond with his hands on her jaw. When done, Marco removed his hands as Sunny flexed her jaw, wincing as it opened wider than it had in weeks. 

“Your whole body is likely to be sore, it’s not something I can fix for you yoi. It’s not an injury per se, it's your body warning you to take things easy. Let’s keep going and maybe afterwards you can rest in a hot bath. Sabo can arrange it, I’m sure,” Marco replied, putting his hands on your ribs. The rest of the healing seemed to take moments as Marco covered you in his healing flames. Sabo watched the kind flames dance over your skin, so unlike the destructive fire he and his brother wielded. He idly wondered if you would like him more if he had been the Phoenix as you watched Marco, transfixed by the wonder of his power. Once the healing was complete, Marco sat back down on the stool and looked at your face carefully.

“I’ve healed everything I can. Your bones are all healed and set correctly, your internal bleeding injuries are gone as is your concussion. But I will be honest with you and this may be hard to hear yoi,” Marco began. Sabo put his hand gently around your own, letting you squeeze his fingers from nervousness. “I can’t heal your sight in your left eye yoi. My powers only extend to healing, not to repairing things that have healed incorrectly. Your optic nerve was damaged and your eye has already healed itself. It hasn’t healed in a way we would like, but it has healed from the acute injury yoi. I can’t do anything for your sight,” Marco said solemnly. Your hand went limp in Sabo’s as he stroked your skin gently. 

“So - I - my eye - I’m like this forever?” you said, breaking into a sob. Sabo remained strong for you as he wiped away tears from your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Marco said softly, touching your arm. He kept talking to you but your far away look told Sabo you weren’t listening. 

“Marco, please give us a few moments,” Sabo said softly, his attention focused solely on you now. Marco nodded and left the room, closing the door. Your lip wobbled but you held yourself together while Marco could still be seen through the glass of the door. When the sound of Marco’s footsteps finally receded, you broke down. Sobbing loudly, you screwed your eyes tight as Sabo rubbed circles on your back with his hand. Sabo watched as both of your eyes spilled tears down your cheeks. It was a good sign of ocular health, but he didn't want to tell you that now. You pulled your hands out of his own to wipe your face with your sleeves as your cried quietly, your sobs the only thing in Sabo's mind. Mentally he prepared himself for the torrent of harsh words you were likely to tell him shortly. You'd tell him that you hated him - for the kidnapping, the seastone, the beating, and now the partial loss of your eyesight. And he'd take everything you had to say, he deserved it. Looking up at Sabo from where you lay in the bed, you hiccuped and began to speak.

“I-i’m sorry. I don’t want y-you or Ma-marco to think I’m ung-grateful. Thank you for hic saving my li-ife. I’ll th-thank Marco too. I’m j-just sad ab-about my eye. I c-can’t see as well or sniffle read as we-ll and I wo-won’t be able to research. Bu-ut at least now we m-match,” Sunny said with a watery smile, pointing to Sabo’s dead left eye. 

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff@epochal-oracle @divinedolliebun @rebeccawinters

[leviathan-supersystem]

1. You made a claim that because I criticize radical race theories, that must mean I'm racist. Even if you didn't outright call me one, you implied it heavily.

lmao you weren't "criticizing a radical racial theory" you were having a meltdown over an extremely obvious bait tweet from 7 years before you made the post. no notable contingent of people think that the works of shakespeare were written by a black woman be serious lmao. and like, the fact that you see the most obvious bait tweet on earth and immediately imagine that there's some contingent of "black identity extremists" who think shakespeare was a black woman does not give me the impression that you have a particularly positive- or for that matter accurate- view on the anti-racist struggle in the usa. that's not the same things as being racist, mind you, but it does make your attempts to call out hoplophobe racism come off as a little insincere.

like, okay, for example, you have posts where you decry people who frame police violence in terms of racism, since, after all, people of all races get wrongly shot by the police.

okay now think for a couple seconds here. if the racial disparities matter when it comes to gun control enforcement, they matter when it comes to police violence. either it's relevant for both, or it's relevant for neither. do you get how choosing to view racial disparities as significant with gun control, but irrelevant when it comes to police violence, makes it come off as insincere when you reference it regarding gun control.

look, i get that you have some views that aren't like, hardline right-wing, but be serious with us and yourself about what the overall thrust of your politics are. i have views that don't line up with the typical left, hell this whole post is me criticizing anti-gun progressives, obviously i'm aware that people can have some views that don't line up with those of their political camp and can criticize their political camp over it. but be serious. be serious for one second. read your own list of your "left wing views" back to yourself. "not completely anti-abortion"? your examples to prove your supposed left-wing credentials are like, centrist at best. center-right even, given that you seem to be implying- and a quick skim through your blog confirms- that you are mostly anti-abortion.

like look me in the eye and tell me "yeah this post about how you need to Vote Trump No Matter Whump To Score A Pro-Life Victory is a post that could be made by a left-wing person, with left wing views about abortion specifically"

hey. hey can you link to the post where people were telling you gun control is racist. I want to reblog their comments to agree with them because they're correct

[iguessitsjustme]

When It Rains It Pours Ep 3 & 4 Thoughts

Listen. I am currently at work and not about to watch this show (for at least a few more hours) but I after deciding to wait to watch the next episode and sleeping on it, my little brain wheels started turning and I have some thoughts to get out about the first two episodes before I start the next one. So this time there is more than just a liveblog under the cut:

I wrote that and then immediately had to actually do work. Alas. Anygay

So I was thinking about why the relationship between our boy and his girlfriend felt off to me and I think I puzzled it out. She takes immaculate care of his nails. To the point that other people notice. But his nails are where her care starts and ends. He is initiating all of their conversations basically. She will engage with him but she won't start anything. Except the nail thing. It's why he wants her to be jealous. Because then he will have some sort of proof that she cares. Cause at this point it doesn't feel like she cares about him as a person. She cares about his nails and their appearance because if they look bad that is a poor reflection on her as a girlfriend. But his actual well being and how he feels? She's not present for it. Sure, she'll turn around before she leaves and asks for a hug, but it's so out of character and out of place that our boy doesn't even realize that's what she's asking for at first. He needs to communicate his needs with words, but he has definitely been indirectly communicating his needs and she's not paying attention. Or she is and she doesn't care. And she is not communicating anything either. Their beds have separated to the point there is a table between them. A clear indicator that what they had before is changed. It can easily be moved back to how it was but neither one of them is doing it. No one is even making an attempt. Who put that bedside table there? Because my bet is that it was her. A signal to him that something had changed, but she doesn't have the guts to actually say it. Or even to admit it to herself probably. Anyway I still think she's cheating.

And now I want to talk about Sei and his boyfriend (?). It seems like Sei has made an awful lot of compromises. Does Sei have any say in anything to do with that relationship? How much of himself has he given? Way too much. And I'm not saying his boyfriend (?) needs to compromise on having sex with him if that's not something he wants. But he can compromise on other things. That's what a relationship is. He gets jealous of Sei having someone else to talk to. But Sei can't be in the apartment because of an interviewer coming over. Sei is obviously a homebody but his boyfriend (?) seems to go out a lot. Does he ever make the time to stay home with Sei. Sei has proven he is willing to leave the apartment for his boyfriend (?). So why not invite him to something. Even if it's just the two of them. Why is Sei supposed to give up all of himself and have no control over anything at all?

Okay. That's a lot of words and I haven't even started episode 3. I didn't even mention the plastic umbrellas. Lord jesus.

OKAY. The fact that she TOLD him he has rice on his face instead of removing it for him. Something is not right. She doesn't love him. At least not any more. They don't have any sense of domesticity.

Oh so not boyfriends. Best friends. Okay that tracks. Except the jealousy thing. Also Sei has still given waaaayyyy too much of himself to this dude. He needs to be free to be himself. There's something there about being closeted.

I am watching. I am listening. I am learning. *hyper focuses on arms full of umbrellas*

Man I really wish I had the spoons to talk about the music in this show cause it is phenomenal. Someone remind me this weekend. That is if anyone wants that.

Something something framing. My brain is currently hibernating.

They are about to find out aren't they? God bless.

THEY BOTH EMAILED ABOUT THE STATUE. ARE THEY NOW GONNA LOOK AT EACH OTHER?

God bless.

Episode 4 time? Episode 4 time. (but only if this truck goes away it's shaking my whole apartment.)

Truck is gone. I am free. Episode 4 let me look at ya with my eyeballs

…have I mentioned that I haven't been getting much sleep lately?

Something something going down an escalator. He's going down. Towards hell? Making poor decisions cause he's gonna cheat on his girlfriend? Going to hell because he's going to learn about his attraction to men? And obviously gay people go to hell? I need a shot of those two together going up the escalator or I'm gonna scream.

Oh he's me. This is the literal exact thing I would say to my friend in this situation.

Okay I get it. I get it. I'm gonna be thinking about this scene for a while. The way Sei thought the messages as knew them were over. The way instead he was asked out to dinner. Because both of them need each other. They understand each other in a way no one has understood them before. They see themselves in each other. I'm fine. I'm totally and completely fine. Where are the umbrellas.

Oh the toe.

DID HIS FRIEND DESIGN THE CARD HOLDER? IS THAT WHAT THE SOMETHING IS. Or one of the somethings. Everything is connected.

"When he shows his masculine side it kills the mood" girl WHAT. Are you even attracted to him? Do you even like men? Girl. Be so fucking for real right now.

So I hate both of their partners. The girlfriend and the best friend. They are both keeping these two trapped and I HATE it.

Should I watch episode 5? *looks at the time*

[starryeyedstray]

have hank and nines bonding and brooding over connor's planned obsolescence. i wrote this awhile ago and it has come back to haunt my thoughts

Hank sighed as he entered the house thinking about dinner. Connor said he wasn’t going to be able to come home tonight, so he figured ordering delivery was his move. He froze when he spotted a familiar silhouette filling his kitchen. The smell of cooking wafted over him. He stood dumbly in the doorway. 

“Hey Con—” he stopped himself. The android in a noticeably not-white but black button up only looked like Connor, but he was a bit taller, wider. With an expression flat and almost scowling as he cooked. Hank's eyes flicked to the white jacket hanging on his coat rack. “You’re not Connor.” 

“An astute observation, Lieutenant,” a voice like Connor’s but not in any way like his answered. Almost monotone and a bit deeper. 

Are all RK-line androids smartasses? “What the hell are you doing in my house, Nines?” Hank questioned as he removed his shoes at the doorway. “And why the fuck are you cooking?” 

“Connor has expressed concerns about your health and was lamenting his incapability to cook for you tonight. I offered to cook in his stead.” 

“And when did you start caring about my health?” Hank said still watching the android curiously, patting Sumo as he approached the kitchen.  

“I do not have a particular interest in your health, Lieutenant. But Connor cares,” Nines responded. And I care about Connor. He left that thought unsaid. 

“Huh, and you’ll come over and do something you’ve never done before… for Connor?” Hank asked.

There was a sparkle in the human's eye that reminded Nines of the one Markus had when they had discussed Connor. The deviant set aside a task to compare these two moments to try to discern what that look meant. 

“Yes.” Nines set a plate down as Hank reached the dining table. It was one of the recipes that Connor recommended.

Connor had been surprised when Nines offered to help. Though initially he kept declining, his worry over Hank getting a proper meal and not drinking overrode is worry that Nines' sudden presence might discomfort Hank. He knew the man might get upset, but he also knew him and Nines got along surprisingly well.

Hank took a seat. He wanted to ask more questions, but he was also starving so he hastily shoveled some of the food into his mouth. “Hm, not bad.” 

“Is there room for improvement?” 

“I mean it’s good. But not as good as Connor’s.” 

“Elaborate.” 

“I don’t know. It’s just different. Still good.” Hank said between mouthfuls. He wasn’t sure if it was because Nines looked like Connor, but he found it relatively easy to talk to him. The android was always direct and blunt. Something the lieutenant could appreciate after a lifetime of trying to read between the lines of what people were saying. 

“I followed the recipe exactly. There should be no variance between how Connor and I cook.” 

“No, Connor’s is definitely better.” 

Nines flat expression stretched into a slight frown. “I am Connor’s more advanced successor. I should be able to execute things as well as him if not better. Explain what difference you detect in our cooking."

“I think it’s missing love,” Hank joked, laughing as confusion crossed Nines' face. “Connor cooks with love, so it tastes better.” 

“You can’t cook with love. And love would not have a discernible taste to affect cooking.” 

“Nah, I can taste.”  

Nines wanted to argue more, but Hank interrupted him. 

“So what? You plan on cooking me dinner whenever Connor can’t? Isn’t that a little much to do when you don’t actually give a shit about me?” 

“It distresses Connor when you do not care for your wellbeing. It is perplexing seeing Connor worry over things outside his control, so I will do what I can to give him some comfort. Though I will never understand why he is more concerned with your mortality over his own planned obsolescence."

Hank was about to counter that Nines could just go fuck off if he was just doing this to win brownie points with Connor, but stopped as he heard the last sentence. “Planned obsolescence? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Nine was about to answer, but his LED flashed yellow as he studied Hank. Connor hasn’t told him. “I’m going to clean the kitchen.” 

“No, get back here Nines. The only thing I like about you is that you don’t dance around the truth. So drop the bullshit. What do you mean planned obsolescence?” 

Nines stored away the implication that Hank actually liked at least one thing about him when he was sure the lieutenant liked zero things about him. He focused his processors on deciding whether to reveal the truth to Hank.

[ REFUSE ] If he refused to tell the truth, Hank would no longer have anything he liked about Nines and it could further strain his relationship with the man which would make it difficult to do favors for him on behalf of Connor. Then Hank would confront Connor about it anyway, and Connor may be upset with him for letting it slip.

[ TRUTH ] If he told the truth, it would likely increase rapport with Hank. While he did not care to increase rapport with Hank, Connor liked Hank so if Hank liked Nines, Connor would like Nines more. At least, theoretically. Then Hank would still confront Connor about it anyway, and Connor would be upset with him for telling Hank the truth. 

In both scenarios, Connor would likely be upset with him. So it was really a lose-lose for Nines. Perhaps, he could convince Hank not to bring it up with Connor if he told the truth. 

[ TRUTH ]

Nines sat down after coming to this conclusion. “Did Connor say why he couldn’t return home tonight?” 

“He just said he had to take care of things at New Jericho that would keep him busy. I take it he lied.” 

“He is at New Jericho because he is busy.” 

“So he didn’t tell me the whole truth then.” 

“Do you know what planned obsolescence means?” 

“Something about building something to breakdown.” 

“Connor is a prototype. Not meant for durability or longevity. Cyberlife had always planned to replace him. So they used experimental parts that would eventually breakdown and become obsolete. They did not care if he was incompatible with most biocomponents. He was always going to be discarded after he completed his mission. Planned obsolescence.” Nines was keen to not mention that he would have been Connor’s replacement because that certainly would not bode well for his rapport with the lieutenant. 

“So what does that mean for him?” 

“It means his biocomponents are only meant to be sustainable for one year. Most androids biocomponents are meant to last a minimum of 25 years. Though with proper maintenance it can last much longer.” 

“O-one year? But he’s gotten biocomponents replaced before. So it’s not a big deal right? He can just get new ones.” 

“Cyberlife had a substantial amount of inventory that was compatible with his model. But…” His LED flashed red for a second. “They carelessly burned through a large portion with their... testing.” He said that word distastefully. 

“So what happens when we run out of biocomponents for him?” 

“I think you already know the answer to that.” 

Hank stood up and slammed the table causing Sumo to startle with a bark. “What the fuck? What kind of bullshit is this? He’s the android. He’s the one that’s supposed to last a hundred years. He can’t just— One year—shit.” He collapsed back into the chair. “So what’s happening to him right now?” 

“Most of his biocomponents had been replaced the last time he left Cyberlife with the exception of biocomponent #54890f which helps circulate the air as a secondary cooling system. He is undergoing treatment to get those replaced tonight. Normally, this biocomponent is not vital to androids, but it can be necessary for and those that engage in strenuous or high processing activities.” 

Hank suddenly recalled the past couple weeks of Connor seeming winded. After an extended chase or a long day, he would be breathing deeply for much longer. Hank had teased him about being out of shape, and Connor teased back saying he must be getting old. In reality, his fucking lungs were shutting down.  

“When did he know about all of this?” 

“It was mentioned when he had last returned to Cyberlife.” 

“And he didn’t tell me.” 

“As I mentioned earlier, he worries about your wellbeing over his own. He didn’t want to concern you about something you can’t change.” 

“Well, that makes it fucking fine, doesn’t it?” Hank said sarcastically. “Shit. How much time does he have left? I fucking—” Hank’s voice broke off. He couldn’t lose Connor to something as bullshit as not having the enough parts because fucking Cyberlife didn't want to waste money on their prototype. Fuck, Connor wasn’t even 2 years old yet. 

“Lieutenant,” Nines' voice was stern. Hank looked up at him and he was met with a steely grey gaze. “I’m not going to let Connor die.” 

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s a guarantee. It will take some time, but I will ensure we can manufacture Connor’s biocomponents before it becomes dire. So until then, you need to maintain your health so Connor can happily live by your side for approximately 40 more years. By then, Connor should be adequately prepared for your mortal end and able to move on without too many repercussions.” 

“You got it all mapped out, don’t you?” Hank looked down at his plate of cooling food and ate a bit more. Contemplating their conversation. For a long time, Hank had been resigned to dying early and just letting either a bullet or the alcohol to take him. And sometimes, he still thought that way. But lately, he’s found some things worth living for. Most of it is Connor. He can’t imagine Connor dying before him and it seemed like Connor felt the same way. Maybe that’s why he's always so keen to throw himself in front of danger on his behalf. He finished eating as he mulled over this thoughts some more. He shot another glance at Nines who had stood up and began cleaning up the kitchen. 

“You really like Connor, don’t you?” 

Nines debated on if he should temper his answer, but Hank seemed to appreciate his honesty. “Yes.” 

Hank was now staring at Nines' back. “I thought you were head tech at New Jericho now. Why aren’t you the one operating on him?” 

Nines hesitated, his LED flashing red for the briefest moment. “This is a simple surgery that I could execute flawlessly. But it’s an important one, and I am still reluctant to operate on Connor due to our… history. I don’t want to jeopardize anything if I hesitate during his operation.” Nines still didn't fully trust himself.

Connor had been vague when he told Hank about the time he was forced to return to Cyberlife. It was one of the reasons he still had his guard up when he first saw Nines and Connor together. But he had come to warm up to Nines over the past few months. This conversation certainly helped tear down the rest of the apprehensions he had.

“Well, thanks for the dinner,” Hank replied as he brought his dishes to the sink. It felt weird to have Nines just come to cook him dinner and leave. “You wanna watch some TV?” 

Nines considered the suggestion for longer than he normally would have. “If I leave, will you consume alcohol?” 

“Probably not.” 

“Probably not implies a possibility. Connor was very adamant about ensuring you refrain from alcohol consumption. I will stay to ensure that you sleep at a reasonable time without any alcohol.” 

Hank shook his head. Fucking androids. He made his way to the couch and turned on the TV. 

“Lieutenant.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Could you not tell Connor that I told you about his planned obsolescence?” 

“Well, I want to fucking talk about it with him.” 

“I will encourage him to speak to you about it if keep your discretion in the meantime.” 

“You really don’t want to get on his bad side, huh?” 

“I’ve been on his bad side long enough.” 

“Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. But if he takes too long to talk to me about it, I’m throwing you under the bus.” 

Nines was about to question why that would warrant Hank throwing him into a bus, but he quickly searched up the phrase to discern its meaning. “I see. I will make sure it does not come to that.” 

“But thanks for telling me, Nines.” 

“You’re welcome, Lieutenant.” 

“Call me Hank.” 

-end-

i headcanon that since the rk900s are supposed to be military models, they have robust android technician knowledge so they can repair themselves during combat. so after deviating, nines becomes the android technician for new jericho.

this is part of a larger unpublished fic i've been working on ever since i joined dbh taking place post-pacificist ending. slight spoilers, but they are making references to when connor was temporarily reclaimed by cyberlife. and uhm, let's just say nines' and connor's initial interactions were not pleasant ehehe

hope y'all enjoyed! writing brain seems to want to focus on everything but the things i want to focus so yeah take this.

[thefixations-ofmine]

Mister June and the globetrotter

Bucktommy | 3.3k | Rated G (sexual inuendos) Entry for the @bucktommywinterfest, round 10 February 2-8: Tommy in the firefighter calendar and Buck 1.0 meets closeted Tommy This Idea comes from this post right here, with a twist. Note: Bold italics are texts. Dash changes POV, star cuts time.

Main Masterlist | Winter fest Masterlist | AO3

So, were you hoping for anything from this date? Buck reads the text, surprised. The person on the other end - who isn’t Jodie - has definitely been woken up at three in the morning on a Wednesday and wants to keep talking? Well, he’s bored and could use the distraction, considering he just lost a very good fuck opportunity, so he goes on in good-old Buck fashion;

Not really. I don’t ever give it too much thought. It’s just sex for now. Buck presses send and then realizes that makes him sound shallow. Pot meet kettle. He goes on to defend himself: I move around a lot, settling down isn’t in the 5-year plan. The little white lie reaches its destination, then he sets his phone down to get the shower started.

I see. I guess that’s fair and keeps people from having expectations. Has to feel lonely though, no?

Buck reads the messages and there’s a pinch in his heart he can’t control. Yes. ‘Yes’ is the answer but he’s never said that to anyone, even to Maddie because he doesn’t want her to fuss over him on top of everything else - much of the reason he’s running around is to stay out of people’s hair.

The only thing he can come up with is to be Buck, again – or rather this persona he’s allowing himself to be – so he takes a photo of his naked chest from a low angle and sends it with a caption: Wouldn’t be lonely if you wanted to join. 

He feels himself grow hard as a pavlovian response to the sexual chase, and his brain absentmindedly captures a few extra shots, one precisely showing his back in the mirror down to the dip of his ass crack and sends them. His thumbs linger over the screen to add another quirky line, but the dots on the other end appear, and disappear, and this goes on too long for his liking. Before he loses his entire rhythm, Buck decides to leave it at that and jump into the shower, the scalding water feels good on his back, his hand finds refuge around his dick, the comforting gesture sending a jolt up his back and his low hum carries the desperation of a long day.

-

Tommy’s body goes so warm when he receives the pictures he swears he can hear the AC start running in the room. One photo shows the dips and valleys of his abs perfectly, and Tommy loves that he’s not dried-out and cut either. Despite the very short attempts at flirting when he was younger, this was the first time he got such explicit pictures and his body shudders when he goes back down to the edge of the screen where a very apparent bush peeks barely.

The second photo breaks his composure but his hand is quick enough to shut off the groan that creeped up his chest. That kid (Evan - his name sits in the raunchy greeting at the top of the conversation) is giving him everything he wants and it’s pumping up blood around his body at an alarming rate. He studies the way Evan’s back arches against the counter and how Tommy’s thumbs would look amazing in those dimples, and fuck-

This is affecting him more than it should. He usually has to go digging through pages of porn to find a body he likes and he shouldn’t, but he lets himself linger a little too long for his liking. He shifts in bed, not entirely sure what to do or even what to say.

He wants to play along, ask for more, but the poor guy probably thinks he’s volleying with a pretty woman and Tommy’s a fan of not building expectations. And, well, nobody knows Tommy is gay, maybe not even himself entirely but the way his hands are getting damp feels like a very autonomous bodily response to him, so he has to do something about it. Or nothing at all. Pot meet kettle, again.

He needs to push himself to do so but Tommy sets the phone down on the little table next to his bunk and forces himself to wait this out as he tries to catch up on sleep. He usually has no trouble falling asleep, but he finds himself counting sheep this time. Or maybe it’s to keep the impending truth he was growing in his pants at bay.

A call comes in just before his alarm, twenty minutes before they would all be free to go home. Chim grunts from the bunk below, seemingly more aggravated by the situation.

“Rise and shine, superstar,” Tommy teases, grabs his phone and jumps into his boots before running to the truck. The call came from across town so he gets a few minutes to scroll through his aviation forums as the engine carries them out. When the screen turns on, a notification tag shows that Evan had sent him four texts during the night. He can’t say he has forgotten about him, the pictures still haunting his thoughts, but Tommy hadn’t come up with an escape plan either. He has a quick look around and holds his breath even though Chim and Hen are sitting across from him - from the way things were headed, he could definitely have a dick pic waiting for him. He lets his thumb unlock the screen.

Shit. I’m sorry. That was too much.I guess I was still in the mood, you know…Fuck, I shouldn’t say that either. I’m a douche.Anyway, um. I have to be up early to catch a flight. So maybe talk later?

Tommy grins stupidly and the breath he held comes out in a broken chuckle. Evan has to be in his twenties. Early twenties, even, because if the pictures weren’t indication enough, that rambling nailed the coffin. And Tommy does want to keep talking to him, for selfish reasons or to see how this pans out, he’ll have to figure that out, but he has to be honest about the situation, for Evan’s and his own sake.

So, he sends a few texts and puts the phone in his turnout, not expecting an immediate reply;

All good. I get the fun behind this.I need to be honest though, I’m a guy. My name’s Tommy. I’m 36 and a firefighter in LA. I’m still up for a chat, just thought you should know.So I’m sorry you sent those photos, but they’re safe with me.Oh! And I have a safe flight, Mr. Globetrotter. ;)

Tommy feels the vibration of hope as soon as the phone hits the bottom of the pocket, and his heart picks up a few beats per minute knowing he might have a text from... No, Tommy shakes his head, don’t go there. Not a second ago he was trying to convince himself this whole deal should be left to a short and silly conversation about a wrong number. The truck pulls up to their destination and he can focus on doing what he does best.

It’s only two hours later when Tommy can have another look at his phone, and his stomach flips when the notification on the screen is just a random email. He chuckles, really shouldn’t be that bummed out, he thinks as he opens their conversation. His thumb hits the three dots next to the number and he goes to add Evan’s name as a contact.

Yeah, he’s fucking done for.

*

Evan puts on the blue LAFP t-shirt and lets his hands run down his front, admiring the color on himself and it’s evident how hopeful he is for the road ahead. He starts the academy in less than a week and it’s nerve wracking, but Tommy has been sure to guide him through the steps like a great mentor. And it’s been great finding a reason to keep talking to him, finally. 

“Tuck in the shirt. I know it’s not the army, but they still care about little details,” Tommy says over the speaker as he watches Evan try on the uniform. He loves how eager he is. He’s already noted that down on his recommendation letter. When Evan had mentioned moving back to LA, things just clicked and Tommy was the one to start talking about the job.

“Uh, yeah. Th-thank you, Tommy.” Evan proceeds to fix the uniform and huffs proudly as he twirls in front of the mirror. Tommy still thinks the boy is in on the joke and is trying to see where his self-control will break, then Evan grabs the phone and smiles and Tommy knows he’d forgive Evan anything. “What would I do without you?”

“You want an honest answer?” Tommy says and they both laugh easily.

They facetimed once or twice, or maybe five times over the last weeks, and each time the conversation gets deeper and more genuine, and Evan doesn’t know it yet but him being careless about his sexuality is doing wonders for Tommy on his end of things. He had been more than okay with seemingly sending risky photos to a man, and he even complimented Tommy at large when he got a basic selfie back for a profile picture. There was still one thing to figure out;

“Want me to drive you to your interview?” Tommy offers boldly, only slightly regretting it. They hadn’t had the talk about meeting in person and that could be crossing boundaries. Maybe Evan saw the wince on his face just then because he starts giving him an excuse.

“My sister, um Maddie, she just moved to town also. We haven’t really seen each other in a while. I asked her to come with me.” Tommy nods and smiles. Still, he waits for the moment Evan realizes he’s being pushed against a wall, like Tommy is out to play some trick on him. “I’d much rather see you at my graduation. If you’d like. Of course, um, no pressure, I-”

“I will be there, Evan.” Tommy says the words calmly even if his mind screams of excitement. He promises himself to tell him he’s gay before then. Maybe even let the station in on it as well; if he wants to believe in chosen families, he’s going to need to be honest and open.

It’s five months. He can do it.

“O-okay. I gotta go. I have a few things to do before I get there.”

“I’ll see you around, Evan.”

“Honestly, I never thought I’d love to hear my name out loud so much,” Evan answers and dips his head down. Tommy melts when he does that. He wants to kiss the top of his head and tell him he’s being so adorable. Then Tommy wonders how Evan’s name would sound coming out like thick honey on his tongue as he moans and okay, Tommy needs to end this video call right now or risk embarrassing himself.

“Think of a nickname, then. I call dibs on your name,” he adds with a wink and ends the call.

Tommy goes back to his living room where a pile of paperwork waits for him. The forms to be recertified for flying had been in his office for months, maybe a year, and talking to Evan had made him realize that every dream deserves a chance. So when Tommy convinced Evan to join the firefighting academy, Evan had dared him to get into flying again. Then Tommy talked to Bobby, and things started to piece together like a puzzle. He’d be transferring to Harbor station just before Evan graduates, and perhaps Tommy used his charms and wits to make sure his empty spot was warm and ready for Evan to make his probation.

-

“Maddie, you don’t get it. I-I don’t want to make a bad impression!” Buck waves his hand around as he refills his sister’s coffee. He sits at the end of the table and prepares for the older-sibling advice to be laid on him.

“Evan, I’m not sure I understand, didn’t you just meet Tommy? Actually, you haven’t even met him.”

“Well, it’s been months now technically. The academy alone lasted five months! And-and he’s been there every step of the way, I just-”

“Okay, okay. But let me say that again. This is the first time you’ll see him in person, Evan-”

“Buck! Um- ha. Everyone at the academy called me Buck, and I think I like the nickname.” Maddie sighs, annoyed. But she smiles anyway and proceeds;

“Buck,” she says the name with a faint grimace, “I just want to make sure you’re not expecting too much. I mean it’s one thing to get along over the phone a few times a week. Maybe it won’t be as sugar-coated in person. I want you to know that.” Buck takes a sip of coffee and a bite in his bagel. A quick look at his watch: two hours left before the ceremony. He needs to iron his uniform and grow out some balls. And convince his sister that he’s not reading too much into it even if his stomach does a weird thing now - like when he eats something that disagrees with him - whenever Tommy says his name because it’s his to say and that perhaps he recorded one of their conversations so he could listen to it on repeat while he fucked some pent-up anger into his cheap fleshlight. Shit.

Maddie is right, this could all come crashing down. Buck never thought he would find such a connection with someone, but it seems so obvious now; Buck had never given anyone a flying chance at a conversation, let alone parts of his brain he had never exposed. He’s not certain what that says about him just yet, but he’d lie if he said he didn’t hope for this to pan out well. Knowing someone in the LAFD right out the gate will be detrimental, and hopefully the coffee dates will also be fun.

“Anyway, I appreciate this, Maddie. I do. He’s just a friend. Someone I can rely on and who’s made substantial efforts to help me. I need that in my life. Everything is so volatile.” Buck feels all lovey-dovey now, and he reaches for his sister’s hands. “And I need you. So tell me, how do you like LA so far?” 

-

Tommy fidgets. Tommy never fidgets. But he’s sitting on a little white wooden chair in the back rows of this open-field ceremony and his leg won’t stop bouncing and he’s biting the inside of his lips and he’s looking around frantically and… maybe Tommy does fidget now. The ceremony is about to start and he needs to get his shit together because Evan will be one of the firsts to come up alphabetically and Tommy knows he’ll be scanning the crowd for him. It doesn’t help that today of all day the sun decided to be a menace to humanity. His hands are damp and his collar scrapes around his neck and Tommy needs to remember that he’s not at an army boot camp and he’s safe and sound.

He looks at the gift he brought to ground himself, but he wonders if that or his eagerness might freak Evan out. Then again, he’s meeting the man who shamelessly sent him pictures bordering on nudes for the past month and he hadn’t returned the favour, so he hopes that this gift can bridge the gap.

“Why does this feel like some reality TV show and you’re about to meet someone your mom picked out for you?” Chim jokes beside him, obviously aware of his nerves. He pondered bringing someone with him, but this was a good idea - Buck would have his sister, so he could have support as well. Who better to take that spot than mister comic-relief himself.

Plus, Tommy had made some efforts on his end, as he promised himself, so he came out to the station over one of Bobby’s amazing dinners as well as letting them know about the transfer, reinforcing how proud and privileged he feels to be part of this house. Their acceptance and encouragement had both been amazing and heart-breaking, bringing Tommy back to his childhood and how he wished someone had hugged him the way Bobby did. Tommy didn’t cry often either, but he did that day.

“He hasn’t been picked out for me. It was a weird turn of events, Chim. We’ve been talking for months. It just… feels like it could work out.”

“Yeah, some like to call that fate!” Chim proclaims with a nudge of the elbow. Suddenly, some bells ring and both of them startle, dragging their attention back to the stage. Tommy sits up straight and glares at Chim when he feels his shoulders bounce against his.

*

Chim is chit-chatting with Evan’s sister as they all wait for him to come out of the building. Which he does, twenty minutes later and suddenly Tommy wishes he had taken longer. He needs to calm the hamster doing a marathon in his brain. He needs to go back home and wear more ample clothing and leave the goddamn gift on the kitchen island, but those long legs straddle quickly and Evan joins them before Tommy can even swallow his fears.

The itching on his neck comes back but Tommy is good at ignoring it. He bounces on his heels a couple times as they lock eyes and let the rest of the world fade around them. He knows Maddie says something cheerful to him, and perhaps Chim joined, but for now Evan is beelining towards him and Tommy’s mouth falls open.

“Hi, Evan.” He finds the courage to say.

“Hi,” he whispers before crashing his face against Tommy’s and backing them into the truck. The kiss is clumsy and heated and perfect. Tommy curses the damn gift in his hands as he can’t let them roam over Evan’s back the way Evan’s exploring his chest. They pull apart just before the rest of Tommy’s body could start to respond.

“Was, um. Was that okay?” Evan asks, eyes amorous and fixated on Tommy’s mouth. Tommy manages to look around then and finds their guests gleefully looking at them. He never wants to leave this bubble, but-

“I’m so sorr-”

“No.” Tommy realizes he hasn’t said a word. “No, fuck, that was. That was… how did you know?” Evan gives him a face then and the details of their conversations come crawling back, or maybe Tommy knows he wasn’t very subtle on the ogling despite being behind a screen. His body feels heavy and grounded and he wants his lips back on Evan’s.

“Listen,” Maddie chimes in. “It’s warm, and it’s just shy of happy hour. You guys wanna join us for beers?” Us? Oh. A double date? Yeah, Tommy can do with that to ease the nerves and get a more sensible conversation going. He nods, then turns to Evan.

“Y-yeah, that’s okay,” the young man answers and before he can head to the car Tommy grabs his wrist.

“I have this for you. Special graduation gift.”

“The firefighter calendar?” Evan looks perplexed despite the smile on his face.

“Well, I never sent any spicy photos back so… I’m mister June,” Tommy says. The knot in his gut tightens when Evan’s cheeks go flaming red and he chokes on a laugh.

“I promise to make good use of it!” Tommy and Chim start laughing and it takes a moment to register in his mind. He goes; “Oh, no! Not what I meant, I-”

“Please. I hope so.” Tommy can finally bring his hand to the back of his neck and close the space between them in another searing kiss. One that promises so much, yet leaves everything to be discovered. Chim whistles and that’s a good thing, because Tommy has years to catch up on and he’s not above using the spacious back seat of his truck.

tags: @weewoo911 @hmg621, @chococara25