#please... go right on ahead and make it happen

[mekakitsune]

mean!jinx x fem!reader - nsfw - minors dni

request from anon: "Hi love, I would like to request Jinx x Reader. The reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they are at the bar and a guy approaches the reader asking if the reader would like to go out with him and Jinx obviously doesn't like it, can this end with her fucking the reader to show everyone that the reader is hers? Please 😮‍💨"

dates in public really werent jinx's thing, or yours for that matter. she would always say something along the lines of "why go out when we have everything we need here?" by here, she meant her "workshop"– where it was cluttered with mechanical parts and the smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air constantly. it was more than enough, but sometimes, even you needed a break. had you not been so convincing, jinx would have not let you drag her out to the last drop. she didn't like drinking, nor did she like the usuals at the bar. they were loud, arrogant, and just plain gross.

she sat at the end of the bar, some fruity juice concoction in her cup as she swirled her straw around the glass looking less than interested in what was happening around her.

"i want another drink, ill be right back, kay?" you lean into her, and she nods, watching you hop off the stool and stroll (rather stumble) to the other end of the bar where the bartender stood. she watched as you smiled sweetly at the man, leaning against the bar as you recite your order. he nods and moves to make your drink, leaving you to stand waiting. without notice, a man slinks in beside you, with an unsettling smirk on his lips.

"put the lovely ladies drink on my tab, would ya?" he gruffed at the bartender, sending you a wink as he spoke. you smile politely, shaking your head as you speak up– "hey... im alright but thank yo-"

"nonsense, let me treat a pretty lady to a drink, yeah?" he cut you off. he reeked of booze, and was ultimately too close for comfort.

"okay...its a just a drink, but im a-" he cuts you off again.

"see, knew you'd want it. so hows about we getchu that drink and then ditch this place?" he smirks again, placing a hand on your shoulder, one eye brow cocked like he was waiting for you to agree. before you could utter a word, an arm wraps around your waist, and the mans hand drops from your shoulder immediately.

"sorry to interrupt whatever youre trying to do here, but shes taken."

jinxs sneers at the man, looking like she was ready to pounce any second. the man, stupidly, didnt budge– obviously not seeing your girlfriend as much of a threat. her fingers gripped your hip, hard.

"ohh so its like that? y'know, ive always wanted to see some girl on girl action in real time." the man stands, arrogant and overly confident. the smirk on his lips made your stomach twist. without thinking, per her style, jinx lunges at the man, slamming her fist into his nose.

your eyes go wide as the man stumbles back, hand gripping his now bloody nose. "you little bitch..."

the man moves quickly towards her, but a familiar metallic hand finds his shoulder first.

"you two. out. now."

it was sevika, of course she had been there. she had been watching the two of you since you walked in, knowing trouble was bound to come with you guys around, it seemed like it always did.

"i'll fuckin kill you..." the man spat, trying to remove himself from sevikas grip. she looked at you sternly, and you got the message from the expression on her face.

"pssh, you wish." jinx muttered mockingly, clearly not wanting to leave without finishing what she started, or rather, without killing this guy first. you grab her wrist and speak– "lets just go jinx, cmon.." you pull her towards you, and she follows as you drag her towards the door. shouts from the man can be heard from behind you, and jinx stops in her tracks to flip him off. you bite back a laugh as you tug her along into the cool air outside of the bar.

"what a creep..." she spoke low, eyes ahead of her as she walked, avoiding your gaze completely.

"im sorr–" suddenly she whips around to face you, brows furrowed. "i mean seriously? that perv was all over you, and you were gonna let him buy you a drink!? are you stupid?" she cuts you off to rant, making you shut your mouth.

"he could have done something bad, and you were just gonna let him? the hells wrong with you?" she continued, hands moving dramatically.

"i was just gonna empty his pockets when he wasnt looking, jinx... aren't you the one that always says "if you see an opening, take it?"– you quote her. "its clear he had money..."

this seems to make her head rush, anger and possessiveness rushing through her. before you can process it, shes grabbing your arm and dragging you into the alley on your right. with shocking force, she presses you against the wall, her face dangerously close to yours as her eyes bore into yours.

"that doesn't mean go around and act like some sort of slut." she squints, cocking her head to the side.

"are you kidding? fuck you, jinx. i-" she doesnt let you finish as she smashing her lips into yours, hard enough to bruise, surely. you gasp at her suddenness, and her hands find your hips again, pinning you to the wall behind you.

her tongue wins the easy battle for dominance, completely consuming you as if the two of you werent stood in an alley. the only light was a dingy street lamp, casting a warm glow onto the two of you. the kiss was hot, messy as she took control of every movement, hips pressing into yours. she pulls back from the kiss, chest heaving as her hands find your belt.

"what are you doing?" you pant, watching her as her skilled hands mess with your waistband.

"whats it look like, dollface." her tone is low, and you can tell shes serious about taking you right here in the alley.

"cmon...not here...people could see us." you shift your hips as much as you can, but theres little to no room between you and the wall, so your attempt are deemed useless. ignoring you, her fingers pop the button on your pants, and find their way into your underwear.

her lips are on you again, flush with your neck as she sucks marks into the skin.

"let em'. dont care." her words are muffled against your neck. you gasp quietly as her fingers find your slick folds, a low chuckle coming from her.

"see? slut. all worked up, and from what, hm? some creep sweet talkin you?" she rambles, her words making your skin flush. her fingers circle your clit, making you buck into her as she holds you steady with her other hand. the cool metal of her finger bleeds through the layer of fabric riding up your hips. soon enough, shes moving her fingers and sliding them into your cunt, making you whimper. you feel her smirk against your neck, lips leaving a trail of searing marks with the intention of claiming whats hers.

"or is it that you like the thought of being caught, hm?" her fingers pushed a relentless pace, making your knees shake. "y'like me fuckin you in public baby?" her words are making your head spin, along with her fingers inside of you. her breathing picks up again when she hears you whine, cunt tightening around her fingers.

"m'close, please..." you muttered helplessly, surely dripping down her wrist at this point. she presses a kiss to your lips as she pulls her hand away. you watch in awe, chest moving rapidly as her fingers come to her mouth, sucking them clean.

"what the fuck?" you pant, fingers wrapping around her wrist. she simply smiles, before slipping out of your grasp.

"s'one thing to act like you enjoy being flirted with, but im not about to make you cum where anyone could see." she shrugs, her grin sinister as she turns on her heel.

in disbelief, your shaky hands move to fix your pants and belt. she had it coming once you stepped back into the confines of her workshop, that was one thing for certain.

thank u for the yummy rq i hope u enjoy :3

[beuxwhoyouare]

Ready to Go

I always thought I would die young. I just don’t forsee a long life ahead for me. It’s not like sad or anything I just think I’ve done all I wanted to. There’s never been like a dream job or goal I’ve ever foresaw in my future. It’s not depression or anything, if anything I think more people should be honest with themselves about being useless and just tapping out of a long life of nothingness.

See. You’ve read this long and didn’t even notice I haven’t mentioned my name. That’s because like my life, my name is equally inconsequential.

I was pondering about ways to easily tap out of life while I sat at the bus stop waiting. Eventually I got on the bus at my usual stop to take me to my usual destination when an older white man slowly waved his hand in front of my wandering gaze.

“What’s out there?” he feebly asked in a weak voice.

I’ve never been asked something on my route before. I kinda just zone out into my own mind like this and-

“Hey kid. You keep zoning out are you okay?” he interrupted my internal thought.

It’s like he knew I was talking to myself but how?

“I’m just in my own head. Sorry did you want the window seat?” I finally replied audibly.

“No. Just making sure you’re okay. Was worried you were one of those druggies or something. Whole life ahead of you and you youngins just throw it all away.”

What a presumptive thought. He really believes that young people can’t have a complex and existential inner dialogue. I think older people don’t give us enough credit. I’m complex, I think.

*hehe*

What’s he laughing at. Wait maybe he is listening to my inner dialogue? Let’s see. Lemme think of something and see how he responds. I don’t want to die, I just want to peacefully tap out of the game of existence.

Damn nothing? He isn’t going to say anything? I’m losing my mind.

“Where do you want to go in life kid?”

HE HEARD ME I KNEW IT!

“I mean let’s say you manifested it enough. Maybe I’m here to help you move on. The worst thing you can do is live a life unfulfilled. It seems like that’s how you’re living.”

“You can’t be serious…What can you do?”

“It’s not really me, more like a pact to the deities that rule existence. It’s the law of the land. Everything in this world is all about balance. Even our lives, if one aspect is out of balance it could throw the whole world out of whack.”

“So what’s out of balance? Just because I’m tired of being aimless in life? It’s not like I’m the only aimless one right?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one, but you’re the only aimless one put in my life. I have so much I wanted to do but spent too much time wasted. I wanted kids, I wanted love, I wanted it all but got sick and spent years withering away in a hospital bed.”

….why is he telling me all this? What can I do about the law of the land? If I could help him I would but he’s talking about myths and hocus pocus.

The bus made an abrupt stop next to a big park near a historical reserve in town. The old man grabbed my arm and dragged me with him off the bus, across the street to the park.

“Dude your boney arm is hurting me. I’ll follow you just let me go”

“We’re here anyway. I can feel one of the deity’s presence around us. All you have to do is say your true hearts desire out loud for it to become true. You can’t move on and I can get a chance to fix my life’s shortcomings.”

My true hearts desire? Doesn’t he get it my problem is I don’t have a desire. There’s nothing fueling me.

“That! Say that out loud.”

“I KNEW YOU COULD HEAR ME! But how?”

“Your inner dialogue was calling to me like a siren. I’m telling you I was meant to hear it. To run into you! This moment was meant to happen.”

Honestly resisting the occult is too much work anyway. I don’t know why I’m even poking and prodding into his story. What is it going to do for me in the end? He’s offering me a way out.

“I don’t have desire. I don’t have a goal. I’m not sad, I’ve lived an okay life but I’m done.”

“I want a real chance to live life. I payed my dues. Please all I ask for is a real chance.”

If felt like all the sounds of nature stopped. The sun suddenly disappeared and it felt like a spotlight appeared above us. All I could see was the old man when he disappeared in front of me. It all disappeared in front of me. Then silence. Well everything was silent from then on. My request to tap out was granted.

“Keven. I like that name, I definitely look like a Keven now. This is a good place to start I think?”

I feel bad that a young person could fall out of love with existing. There’s so much young people have to live for and he just wanted to die? I’ll live the best live for the both of us.

I’m quite the looker now too so that should probably help on the having kids and starting a family front. Although he’s a little short for my liking. You know what no I’m going to be grateful for this new life I’ve been given. There’s still some memories in my head that belong to him. I think he might be gay….well I never got to explore those things in my time but it doesn’t help the kids dream.

Whatever I think starting today I’m going to be Bi. I’m gonna search through these memories and continue working out. Seems like it has a positive impact on people’s outlook and morale. Maybe that’s where the kid went wrong. He didn’t seek ways to be happy. I’m choosing happiness and choosing to be fulfilled.

Let’s start by jerking this thick beer can growing under my shorts though…and maybe seeing if this hot couple in the gym might want a newly confident Latino twunk third.

[the20thangel]

The Emperor and His Lady Chapter 8 (Finale)

Summary: Arabella and Geta flee from the Chaos that Macrinus and Caracalla placed in Rome. Lucius fights for the dream that is Rome, and new beginnings blossom.

Word Count: 4K

Tags: violence, angst, and comfort.

Masterlist

Taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life @justnobodynothingmore

Arabella placed herself before Geta, “Uncle, please, We seek refuge…” 

Arabella’s uncle, the eldest of the two brothers, never had the chance to marry. So, he used his brother’s children to gain control of the family. Arabella was their last chance for glory; he would not give up easily. 

“My dear, you are confused… come, there will be an emperor at the end of the day, Caracalla or Lucius… they will need an empress, and you…” 

Growling, Geta pressed Arabella to his body, “Choose your next words carefully; I can still find ways to get rid of you!” 

Arabella watched as her uncle staggered back before forming a weak smirk: “With what army? I can yell and have Caracalla arrest you or wait until Lucius takes back Rome, and you will still lose Geta. Come, Arabella. You have done wonderful with him, but it’s time to move on.”

“No….” she protested, walking away from Geta. She glared at her uncle. 

“No… what nonsense are you speaking, stupid girl? I said, come.” commanded her uncle. 

Tired of all the stress from the day and tired of being used for men’s gain, Arabella’s face darkened, “I said NO! I am done being used as a pawn for your and my father’s gain. I have always done everything you commanded of me since I was 11 years old. You pushed so much to become Geta’s empress; what did you expect that I do not love him? I will not leave him. I love him and our child, who is growing in me. Caracalla nor Lucius would let me keep my babe, and I would rather die than lose another son. So go ahead, try to force me away from Geta, but you will only have a corpse to use or a girl so damaged she will be useless to you. I will make sure I cannot conceive another child if you force me. I want to live peacefully with the man I love and my child. So what will it be? Uncle, choose now, and I will make my choice.” 

Geta and her uncle froze their blood cold at Arabella’s words. Geta’s face hardened as he placed his hands on his lover’s stomach, glaring at her uncle. In contrast, Arabella’s uncle could only stare. All for naught, he thought, exhaling as he backed down. 

Arabella and Geta watched as her uncle's shoulders dropped. Shaking his head, he made eye contact with Geta as he spoke, “You would have made a wonderful, kind but fearsome empress; such a shame you never were made one.” 

Geta gulped, feeling the guilt returning to him; her uncle was correct. His Arabella would have been the best empress, but he was too selfish to make her one. After a beat, Arabella and Geta could finally breathe as Arabella's uncle led the two lovers to a Villa that belonged to her family—one that was away from the main areas of Rome but still close. 

Once they had arrived, Arabella’s uncle said they should relax while he returned to the palace. An emergency Senate meeting was to occur; he would return with news after the meeting. Leaving the two on their own, Arabella sighed, rubbing her belly as she calmed herself, hoping all the stress would not take a toll on her or her child. Turning, she watched Geta sit by the hearth, staring at the fire that the servants quickly lighted. 

“Geta… my love? What bothers you?” she whispered as she knelt before him, taking his hands into hers. 

Geta took a moment before turning to stare at her, “Your uncle is right. You have been a wonderful empress… I… I was too paranoid to allow it… I was too jealous; I wanted you for myself…Would it have changed what is happening now if you were my empress?”

Shaking her head, Arabella sat on his lap, cradling his face as she spoke, “It is not good to dwell on the past or what could have been. Hush, my love, take comfort that we are alive, the three of us, and take comfort that I will never… never leave you.”  

Leaning down, Arabella kissed Geta, taking his arms and wrapping them around her. Geta deepened the kiss, pressing her body to his as they comforted each other from the hectic and terrifying night. The two stayed awake for another hour to see if any news came, but once they heard nothing, they decided to retire for the night. 

The following day, Arabella’s uncle returned with a haunted look. As she led her uncle to the dining area, she watched in suspense as he placed his head in his hands. 

“Uncle… what has happened?” she asked, watching Geta enter the room and sit beside her. 

“Caracalla… he… he placed two new senators to his consul… his monkey Dundus and the second Macrinus. He gave the throne to Macrinus.” Her uncle explained, closing his eyes in disbelief. 

Arabella and Geta inhaled sharply at the news, realizing that Macrinus used both Geta and Caracalla to get to the throne. 

As her uncle raised his sight, he gave her a look, telling her there was more. Arabella gave a worried brow as she silently urged her uncle to speak. 

“Your father…he has been sentenced to be killed along with the senators who conspired to usurp Geta and Caracalla. They will be killed along with former empress Lucilla,” he spoke, massaging his brow. 

Arabella softly gasped, “But he wasn’t part of the coup… why would he be sentenced.” 

Her uncle smiled contemptuously, “He denied your hand in marriage to Caracalla. He also denied knowing your whereabouts. Macrinus convinced Caracalla to kill him, saying that your father was deliberately offending him. I’m sorry, my girl, I could not save him.”  

Arabella sniffed, having lost both fathers in her life in less than 24 hours. As Geta placed a soothing hand on hers, she proudly spoke, “My father was a servant to Rome, and he will die knowing what he did was for the betterment of Rome.” 

Arabella’s uncle agreed before stating he needed to leave for the Colosseum, promising the pair that he would return after the events. 

At the Colosseum, the crowd was anxious, not knowing who or what the cause of the games was for that day. The Senators shifted as many of their own were at stake, including the former empress. They knew if they killed the empress, Rome would eat them alive; they could only hope the gods were merciful. 

As Caracalla walked down, he noticed his people cringe before him. They looked at him in disgust or fear, and he wanted to weep. He always had his brother to protect him from the wolves. Now his brother was gone… and he was alone, with no one to defend him, and Caracalla thought, “I made a mistake…”. Macrinus, seeing the hesitation, gently pushed the emperor into his throne. 

The Gates opened, and the people gasped in outrage as they saw a cart of senators walking out with their beloved Empress Lucilla standing at the top. 

“Lucilla! Gods have mercy on you, empress!” 

“Empress Lucilla, she is innocent!” 

“Release her! Release the empress!” 

Caracalla whimpered, hearing his people shouting in outrage. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. 

Marcella looked at the royal box, smirking as Macrinus, a fool, looked like he already had won; little did he know. As the plan started, Lucius came out fighting the guards one by one, making sure to stall to give the impression he was desperate to save his mother; as he reached the top, Lucius again asked Marcella if she wanted him to save her. 

“No, my emperor, I need to die. We need the people of Rome to fight against Macrinus and Cara-” Marcella gasped as an arrow shot through her chest. 

“NO!” shouted Lucius, being caught unprepared as he turned to glare at Macrinus.

As Macrinus lowered his bow, he relished at the chaos ensuing, the people screaming and rioting as the Senators ran away. Leaning towards the young emperor, Macrinus threw his arms around Caracalla’s shoulders. 

“Well done, my imperator. You have won, but unfortunately, it's time you step down. Not to worry, Rome will be in good hands, my hands.” He sneered as he took a pin out and stabbed Caracalla. 

As Caracalla shouted in pain, he felt blood gushing out his ear as his vision began to blur. Feeling coldness roam over him, Caracalla thought of his brother, his protector. He regretted killing his brother… for Geta truly did love him. Then his mind to Arabella, sweet and beautiful Arabella. Caracalla knew his love for her was not romantic but of a brother and sister. His problem with her was that he was jealous that Geta and she were in love, leaving him behind. He had no one like they had each other. He felt regret for tormenting her all those years. He wished he could have been kinder. Finally, as Caracalla left the realm of the living, a riverboat greeted him. Terrified, Caracalla looked around when he heard someone calling for him. Seeing at a distance, he saw a woman he recognized as his mother. 

“Caracalla, come, my sweet boy!” shouted his mother. 

Grinning, the young emperor walked up to the boat and waved to his mother as he crossed the river Styx. 

Macrnius smirked at the dead emperor, staring at the floor. He saw Luicus’ glare and decided he needed to leave. Lucius, seeing Macrinus running, began to pursue the man. He would not leave Rome alive. 

At the outskirts of Rome came Lucilla, leading a horde of Roman soldiers waiting to meet their enemy. At a distance, she saw two horses coming towards them and another group of soldiers. Gasping, she saw Lucius jump from his horse, tackling Macrinus to the ground, and the two men began sparing. As Lucius tripped into the river, he held his breath and reached for his dagger. Macrinus blindly stabbed him, trying to pierce through the armor. Seeing an opening, Lucius shouted as he rushed up from the water, slicing Macrinus through his stomach. Breathing heavily, he watched as Macrinus slowly sank to the river's bottom. 

As Lucilla and Lucius took back the throne and ensured the people of Rome were calm and safe, they began to assess the damage in the Palace. Lucius, noticing his mother searching through Emperor Geta’s chambers, the gardens, and, lastly, another chamber, finally asked her what or whom she was looking for. 

“A maiden named Arabella… was my companion for many years. I grew to love her as a daughter. She was with Geta… before he was killed. Senator!” Lucilla ended shouting, seeing Arabella’s uncle walking. 

“My empress, Imperator, what can I do for you.” bowed the Senator. 

Lucius squirmed, not being used to being greeted as a royal for many years, and answered for his mother. 

“A girl, Arabella. My mother is wondering if you have seen her. " Lucius pondered, growing nervous, seeing the Senator's remorseful look. 

“I know not what happened to my dear niece. She was with Geta when Caracalla killed his brother. I fear... I fear the rumors are true; my niece threw herself to her death rather than becoming Caracalla’s empress. I am so sorry, Empress Lucilla. I knew how much she meant to you.” Arabella’s uncle lied, bowing as Lucilla began weeping for her little girl. 

“Thank you, senator. I am sorry for your loss,” consoled Lucius, who found it strange that the Senator was not distraught like his mother. 

Six months passed, and Rome began healing from the injustices she suffered. The people were healing and beginning to thrive. Lucilla, although still grieving the loss of her daughter and husband, provided excellent support for Lucius in ruling Rome. To rejoice, The Senate decided to throw gladiator games to celebrate the six-month mark of Emperor Lucius’s reign. Although Lucius was against it at first, he was later convinced by his mother that it would be a good idea. 

As the two walked to see the gladiators, Lucilla noticed Arabella’s uncle bringing supplies to a specific group of men. Knowing that he was never a Senator who paid interest in the gladiators or had any military knowledge, she walked towards him curious. As she walked closer, she heard the conversation that made her freeze. 

“How is my lady, Senator? I bet her belly must be huge by now! And Gano? How is he fairing?” 

“My niece is thriving through her pregnancy while her husband panics about everything; it is quite charming to see, " the senator laughed. His laugh, however, was cut short once he noticed Lucilla. 

“Senator, six months ago, you told me Arabella killed herself; I am now shocked to hear not only is she married, she is expecting her first child,” questioned Lucilla, growing upset with her surrogate daughter’s uncle. 

As the Senator gulped, he nervously tried to deny it, but Lucilla would not be deceived again. 

“You will bring her to me; I wish to see my girl healthy with my own eyes,” Lucilla commanded, walking away from the Senator. 

At a nearby Villa,  Arabella walked towards her husband carrying a refreshing drink. Rising from his papers, Geta smiled as he greeted his wife. 

“Wife, I am sure I heard the healer tell you not to be on your feet so often," he asked his wife, kissing her lips quickly and taking the drink from her hands. 

“Walking to my husband does not count, Geta. My back starts aching after laying down so much.” Lightly complained Arabella, rubbing her round belly as she pouted. 

Geta grinned, placing his hand on Arabella’s, his smile growing as he felt his son kick against his hand. 

As the two kissed, a servant girl told them the lady’s uncle had urgent business to speak with them. The two separated, sharing a confused look as they greeted the visitor. 

“Uncle, you were just here? Has something happened?” questioned Arabella, allowing Geta to lead her to sit down. 

As her uncle sat beside her, he grabbed her hands, “Ara…Empress Lucilla knows you are alive. She has commanded me to take you to the palace. I’m sorry, niece, but I can’t go against the empress.” 

Arabella's brows rose in shock. She had hoped that Lucilla never found out about her whereabouts. Looking towards Geta, she saw her husband furrow his brows in confusion.

“Why does Empress Lucilla want to see Arabella? Does she want to marry her to Lucius,” growled Geta, jealousy blooming in his chest. 

Arabella held a hand to her husband’s chest, hoping to calm him from his anger.

Arabella’s uncle shook his head, “No, Emperor Lucius is still adamant about not taking a wife. The empress wishes to see you healthy with her own eyes. She has missed you so much, dear girl. Please pay a quick visit to ease her and then return to your life here.” 

Nodding, Arabella agreed to visit her lady; unfortunately, Geta was still paranoid about the reason for the visit.

Geta grunted, grabbing Arabella’s hand as he commanded, “I will go with you.” 

“Geta, you are still wanted in Rome. I am not risking my husband getting arrested by the emperor; stay here, " Arabella countered, annoyed that her husband was trying to be difficult. 

“I wasn’t asking Ara… I’m going. I don’t believe the emperor just wants you to visit.” argued Get, narrowing his eyes. 

Like times before, the Lady and her Husband continue their battle through their eyes, each equally stubborn trying to win against each other. 

Arabella’s uncle chuckled, having gotten used to the young lovers' antics. “Niece, you know him better than anyone. You know he will not stay behind. He will go as he is known outside, Gano, and we will dye his hair dark brown. Hopefully, the emperor doesn’t remember how much Geta looked like, and we can quickly visit and  let it be done.” 

Arabella sighed in defeat, sending a quick glare as her husband smirked, feeling like he had won the argument. 

As the three walked through the white floors of the palace, Arabella and Geta could not help but feel nervous about their visit to the emperor and his mother. Geta looked around and saw how much his former home had changed in under six months. Nothing of him and his brother were shown or left in the palace. Sighing, he walked behind his wife somberly, missing his twin. As husband and wife entered the feast chamber, Lucilla gasped in delight, seeing her girl not only healthy but practically glowing from her pregnancy. Standing from her spot next to Lucius, Empress Lucilla greeted her daughter. 

“Arabella! Oh, my sweet girl, I am so happy you are well and with a child. You are glowing!” exclaimed the empress mother, gathering Arabella into her arms. 

As Geta stood back with his hood covering his face, he stood nervously, feeling paranoid at being close to Lucilla and Lucius. Emperor Lucius smiled at his mother, who was reuniting with his surrogate sister. Turning to face his sister’s husband, he could not help but narrow his eyes and recognize the man. 

“Empress, it's good to see you again.” greeted Arabella, bowing only to be raised by Lucilla, who waved her off.

“None of that bowing, especially with you so heavily pregnant. How far along are you?”  questioned Lucilla as she toyed with Arabella’s curls. 

Smiling, Arabella rubbed her ever-growing bump, “In a week, I will be seven months. I’m counting the days until my child rests in my arms instead of kicking every second of the day, more if he feels his father's hands on my stomach.” 

Laughing, Lucilla took a turn to rub the young lady’s bump, “Lucius was the same way; nothing could soothe him until a lullaby was sung.” 

As Lucilla turned her sight behind Arabella, she noticed the man who she assumed was Arabella’s husband. 

“Sweet girl, why don’t you introduce me to your husband? I assume he is the father, yes?” Lucilla requested, growing confused as the young man twitched and lowered his head to hide his face. 

Arabella, growing nervous, gulped as she stared at her husband. Opening her mouth, she felt tongue-tied, “Yes, this is my husband-” 

“Hello, Geta… I’m surprised you would be willing to step back into the palace,” interrupted Lucius, who was walking towards his mother and sister while glaring at the young man. 

Geta raised his eyes, glaring back at Lucius; it allowed his hood to fall off. Lucilla gasped as her face paled like she saw a ghost, turning to Arabella, who furrowed her brows with worry. Arabella placed herself between the emperor and her husband, not wanting a fight to ensue. Geta took the opportunity to grasp his wife’s waist and pull her body to press against his. 

“Hano… ah, I forgot it’s Emperor Lucius, now is it?” taunted Geta, smirking when Lucius growled in annoyance. 

“Geta, enough,” commanded Arabella, shaking her head at her husband’s antics. 

Lucilla and Lucius were both surprised to see how easily Geta backed down. Lucilla, wanting an answer, turned to Arabella.

“How… everyone in the Senate said they saw his head… Caracalla and Macrinus showed it off?” questioned Lucilla. 

Arabella sighed as she began her tale of how they evaded being killed by Caracalla and their current life situations. After the lady’s tale, Lucius shook his head in disbelief before turning to the former emperor. 

“You know, in any other situation, I would have had the guards arrest you against the crimes you did on my mother and stepfather, but I grew to care for Arabella because of my mother. I know how much my sister has sacrificed for Rome and my mother. Consider yourself lucky, Geta, that I am a forgiving man. I will pardon you injustices…” started Lucius. 

“Thank you, Imperator,” praised Arabella, feeling grateful. 

“I have two conditions for his pardon…” continued Lucius, watching as Geta and Arabella nodded. 

“One, Arabella, do not call me imperator. We are siblings; call me brother. Second, Geta is banned from ever joining the Senate. I will be gracious and not place the ban on any nieces or nephews, but you can never step foot in the Senate. Do I make myself clear?” said Lucius. 

Arabella and Geta nodded, feeling grateful; while Geta did not mind being banned from the Senate, it was never his passion. As the couple left, Lucilla asked Arabella to visit often and to keep her updated on her pregnancy, expressing her desire to be there during Arabella's birthing.  Agreeing, the couple left for their Villa peacefully, excited and nervous for the future. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Screaming could be heard from a room as Arabella pushed with all her might. Collapsing on her bed, Arabella tiredly exhaled as she tried to catch her breath, preparing for another contraction to hit. Lucilla, holding her daughter’s hand, soothed the tired mother. 

“There, my sweet girl, you are doing so well. Just a few more, Ara… you baby wants to greet you,” she consoled the young woman. 

Nodding, Arabella took a deep breath as she pushed all her might, feeling sweat fall down her forehead. Taking another breath and pushing again, wishing her child could just leave her body. 

Outside the room, in the living area, paced Geta, growing nervous with each scream coming from his wife. Lucius watched in amusement as he watched a man feared by Rome be reduced to a nervous wreck. Turning to the floor, he ruffled a tuff of ginger-colored hair. Gaius, who just turned four, raised his head from his toy soldier to playfully glare at his uncle. Lucius chuckled. His nephew looked so much like his father, but that glare was all his mother.  A smaller wail joined the air as another yell broke out, making Lucius rise and Geta freeze. 

Lucilla came out with a bright smile: "A beautiful little girl with the same face as her mother and her father’s fiery locks.” 

As the men sighed, their relief was short-lived. They heard Arabella let out another yell, with the midwife exclaiming that another babe was on their way. Lucilla turned and quickly returned inside to help the young mother. Fifteen painfully long minutes passed before a little boy let his arrival know with a loud shout. 

“He has a pair of lungs,” commented Lucius, watching as Geta held his daughter, watching her as if she were the world's most precious jewel. 

Arabella smiled as she caressed her youngest son. They were perfect. While her daughter followed suit like her older brother in having fiery locks. Her youngest held brown curls much like her own. Gaius was in his grandmother’s arms, looking at his young siblings. Scrunching his nose, he sniffed and looked at his mother: " They are too pink.” 

Laughing, Lucilla kissed the young boy, “They just came out of your mother. You were as pink as them when you were born, my love. They will soon change after a few days.” 

Lucius grinned as he kissed Arabella’s forehead, “How are you, sister?” 

“Tired, but I would do it all over again for them….that does not mean you can touch me,  Geta. You will wait another four years before you touch me.” Commented Arabella, playfully glaring at her husband once she saw his mischievous smile. 

“Do they have names?” questioned Lucilla. 

Arabella nodded, “Yes, our daughter will be named Carmella Julia, and our son… he is Marcus Maximus…” 

As the twins' names were spoken, both children opened their eyes to stare at their parents. Geta’s throat dried up as tears welled in his eyes. His daughter had the brightest blue eyes, just like Caracalla. Kissing his daughter, Geta nuzzled her tuff of ginger hair. 

Lucius and Lucilla smiled tearfully as they stared at the youngest of the three. Soon, the Emperor and Empress left the family of five. As the three youngest slept soundly, Geta scooped up his wife and kissed her neck. Arabella giggled at being tickled, returning a kiss. 

“Thank you, my love,” Geta whispered as he nuzzled his face to his wife’s neck. 

“For what, my love,” pondered Arabella, caressing her husband’s cheek. 

“For loving me, for fighting for me… for never giving up on me, on us… I truly don’t deserve you,” confessed Geta. 

Arabella smiled, cradling her husband's face; she kissed him before whispering on his lips, “I was always meant to be yours, your lady. No matter where or whichever life, I will always come to you, My Geta.”

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 59 Pain Posting

Here we go, dear void. What fresh hell awaits our MC this week? We are back to setting up for the next big story moment, for one, so there's lots to speculate over before waiting to see how it all plays out. Oh, and suffering of course. There's plenty of that for almost everyone.

Bad TL of editor's notes and the colour page (second editor's note could technically be spoilers I guess):

First page: 慘状を前に… [sanjou wo maeni...] "Standing in front of a terrible scene..."] Last page: 死んだハズ… だが…?! [shinda hazu... daga...?!] "Supposedly dead... and yet...?!"

Colour Page Text (removed in EN version): 見据える過酷な旅路 [misueru kakoku na tabiji; "Sights fixed on the difficult journey ahead"]

Not much to say about the colour page except I like how moody it is (and big Makizumi guy is pretty cute with his pose). Guess I was wrong as usual about the Makizumi following Samura. Would be cool if they acted like personal bodyguards to Chihiro! They're the only ones who can really fight against Samura right now due to being presence-less ninjas after all. That's a really interesting conflict for them too- they clearly care for him a lot as the only person who treated them as actual people, and he definitely cares for them in return. His desire to save them during the Hishaku raid wasn't an act in the slightest! But more on that later.

Samura vs. Chihiro: Round 1

Stressed-out scribble-eye Chihiro returns... someone give him a hug.

Glad I didn't try to predict shit because I would have been totally flabbergasted by how this went. Way to make a (technical) liar out of me by saying Chihiro can't die since he's the MC, Hokazono-sensei.

Watching Chihiro break down in real time was so hard, man. This poor guy got his shit rocked by John yesterday at the Rakuzaichi, watched Tenri die a pointless death for the same reasons he's on his own journey, witnessed the horror of his dad's Civilian Murderton 3000 at 1% capacity, and now Samura, one of his heroes, betrayed them all with his dad's legacy. He even got one-tapped when he finally lost his cool for real.

Chihiro seriously can't handle all of this and it's so heartbreaking to see. This guy was not built for a bloody revenge mission at all. Now that he died, though... seriously, what's going to happen next?! Do we switch PoV to a different character while Chihiro's dealing with whatever's happening to him in what looks like a hospital morgue?

There are also some questions about the circumstances of his death and apparent revival- did he really die, or was that Kamunabi misinformation for/from the Hishaku mole? If he did, then how did he come back? And how does that affect his contract with Enten? There's absolutely nothing to go on right now so it's time to hunker down and not go crazy waiting for answers.

Apropos of nothing: I wonder if that wound that Samura gave him will scar. If so, it would mirror the one Uruha had on his shoulder:

RIP I'm still not over you, Uruha.

Probably just a nit-picky detail thing that won't amount to anything, but I wanted to post Uruha from when he was still alive so there you go. I'd be very surprised if Uruha came back somehow even though Chihiro apparently may have escaped death... It seems super-duper extra final that he's toast thanks to the duel he had with his master before getting done in. May you please reappear in flashbacks from time to time so I can get sad that you're no longer with us all over again.

One last thing before we move on to the Hishaku at Disused Building Full of Trash HQ:

SHIBAAAAAA SAVE YOUR NEPHEW AND HIS (BOY)FRIEND

Shiba showing up was in "delusions" territory for me but I'm so glad he's here!

Of course he's getting called out (kind of) for not telling Chihiro the truth- we saw him being one of Kunishige's top glazers back in chapter 1 despite how uncomfortable it made the dude to be praised. So we just have to sit back and wait for the secrets to come out once Chihiro's well enough to at least listen. And if Shiba can bring himself to talk. All the older guys in this manga are so guilty they'd put a Catholic to shame and Shiba already struggles with not being able to deter Chihiro from taking this bloody path in the first place. He almost failed to save a Rokuhira twice now too.

Samura's kindness towards Chihiro is so genuine even when he's trying to kill the kid. Don't ruin the image of Kunishige for him, Shiba- let him live and die in ignorant bliss.

"Your dad's legacy is the problem."

A man who shared Kunishige's vision has come to want to destroy everything about it and help expose the lies that made them into "heroes"... man, is there any non-Hishaku character in this manga that isn't encumbered by some huge amount of guilt?

Toxic Old Man Yaoi

Nice trashed warehouse HQ, bros. Definitely getting "we lost the war and suffered for it" vibes from these guys. I'm willing to stake 1 (ONE) slice of birthday cheesecake on everything I've talked about in the past regarding their origin- that the Seitei War was a civil war, and the Hishaku were on an imperialistic/dynastic side that lost. BECAUSE:

The Owl spread was AMAZEBALLS

MY NEMESIS

It's deliberate! This is the third time this damn vase has shown up, and in four panels this chapter no less! I need lovingly detailed close-ups of every flower to better ID them for the hanakotoba interpretations but I've only gotten a few so far. Most importantly, a matsumoto (elegance/nobility), sakurasou (deep desire), kiku (Imperial imagery), and what might be a poppy (for assured victory) but I'm not completely confident on the last one.

But anyway, yeah. Another yaoi bomb has hit the fandom.

Look at John talking like a five-year-old about unbreakable pinky promises lmao

Did it have to be pinky rings? What's next, they're connected by a red string? HOKAZONOOOOOOOOOOOO

They're in some kind of toxic stew of a relationship for sure with how things went down this chapter. Worst Jeanist helpfully gave us the details of the pact they made to get Samura's help and he's the only one who's concerned that the guy can actually make good on his "promise" to kill them all. Hope he's got some good anxiety management techniques because John won't say a damn thing about what his contingency plans are until they're enacted, apparently.

Can't run from the blind man.

How do you manoeuver against the guy who is set up to be the tactician of the war, though? His ability to super sense things and scout with that awesome-looking Owl power will definitely make it difficult to go against him despite being blind. And the EN TL says "control" here but the wording in JP was closer to "flushing out" like someone who pursues and exposes prey animals or drives cattle/sheep/etc. So Samura's definitely someone who's used to scouting and hunting, making him quite the formidable assassin.

Of course they're using each other though. And of course there's a separate Kamunabi mole that gave away the Rokuhira household's info. Guess we'll get into that shortly since I'm doing a dangerous thing and assuming that the Kamunabi have rounded up the rest of the Bearers at the HQ to chill with them and the Sword Master. Will they have enough manpower to stand against both the Hishaku and Samura by next week? Will Hakuri even wake up by then? Will Chihiro be able to fight at all? Probably since this is a high-octane action series! I'll just have to shut up and accept the condensed timeline sooner or later. (Seriously though, only a week?!)

"消耗 [used up/exhausted/depleted]" is one way to put it, I guess.

Wonder why they didn't kill Hakuri outright if he was such a problem. Do they have something planned for him later? It's not like John cares about sparing people's lives in the way Samura does, so wouldn't he have mentioned it would have been better to get rid of him for good? Eh, probably just a pointless nitpick. Hakuri's staying to the end of the series in all probability, so he just couldn't die here.

Needing to negotiate with other members-John's a first among equals like Beard Guy at the Kamunabi, maybe? Let's meet all the Hishaku members soon to find out!

Samura, Chihiro, Hiurhiko, and Worst Jeanist Musings

[slaps Samura] This bad boy can fit so much misguided grief in it.

This guy is already an incredibly compelling villain that I've done analysis on bit by bit as we got new info, and I gotta say that if I wasn't sold hard on Kyora for personal reasons then Samura would easily be #1 already. He's so complex and multi-layered! I think the detail that makes him great as a "villain" is that his convictions are colder than the surface of Pluto compared to Chihiro's (and most other character's) who burn bright and hot. Samura doesn't have any passion behind what he's doing, just an inflexible will to see a miserable but necessary job through to the end. If Chihiro's an unstable blazing young star, Samura is the black hole that remains after a supernova finally burns out.

The contrast during their first face-off is extremely telling too. Neither hesitate but Samura easily wins due to his composure alone, never mind the skill and experience gap. Poor Chihro's broken inside and out after finding out one of the people his dad trusted is helping his mortal enemies; the stoicism that John fractured the day before completely falls apart here to reveal Chihiro at his lowest.

"Better dead than a guilty sinner," is it? Too late for that!

And Samura's doing it all because he wants to spare him from becoming a tainted sinner. I can't hate Samura at all- he's doing this as an act of kindness with sympathetic motivations despite how far gone off the rails he is. This isn't a typical villain who just wants the world to burn after he wallowed in his misery for too long! I'm looking forward to seeing how Chihiro recovers and prepares to face him again. If he's going to be the one to do it, that is.

Look at this pathetic ugly frog guy.

Just putting this in my back pocket to pull out later if it manifests somehow. I don't have strong feelings one way or the other about Hiruhiko being the one to kill Samura right now, but I do hope he's not redeemed somehow to join the main cast. My feelings on why are extremely petty so I'll just leave it at "don't make him the bonkers former criminal ally guy that everyone sorta tolerates because he's earnest and useful". I will concede that he was almost cute this chapter, though. Worst Jeanist probably deserves a raise for putting up with him.

And now we know how John got his arm back too.

Another healing utility person like the Makizumi, huh? I wonder if we'll get more lore on if this is a field of study that anyone who can use sorcery can take advantage of (like tools), or if it's how their personal abilities manifest. Probably won't get answers unless we spend more time with the Makizumi so here's hoping!

WARNING: TERMINAL BRAIN ROT AHEAD

Not kidding in the slightest about the absolutely mind-numbingly stupid takes about this (very cool!) cover illustration. Skip this if I don't cut it from the final draft of the post unless you're into batshit ramblings from an insane fudanshi.

[feral screeching]

I've got really strong feelings about this cover. REALLY strong. Only the first of them is justified though. Kinda.

One, HIYUKI IT'S BEEN SO LONG I MISS YOU COME BACK TO THE MAIN STORY SOON! She looks so cool too! I love that she doesn't have to do blatantly feminine stuff ever- she's 100% badass and awesome every time she shows up. I'm waiting warmly for your return, my Spaghetti Queen! Use your frenemy rival status to help Chihiro overcome his issues this arc!

This cover and some of the community's reactions to it sparked a lot of thoughts that I've been working out for the past few days. Some about how leaks are being handled, some about how people are reacting to the characters and the composition, a lot about Hiyuki herself. The first easy enough: yes, this cover and colour page count as leaks. Don't spread that shit all over social media! Keep leaks a purely opt-in experience for everyone. The rest, well... probably going to have another massive essay since I love Hiyuki but I don't love why she's so refreshing, if that makes sense? And by God do I hate the way she gets treated by most of the fandom. But I'll work all that out over time.

Two, the Hiyuki-Chihiro design parallels are getting to me in a bad way. Like "tinfoil hat and red string on a tack board" levels of baseless speculation. But I think it's extremely deliberate on the author's part to keep using the same black-with-a-splash-of-red-up-top colour palette for them now that they even have matching undone bandages in this art for some reason. Why not have those two do their own thing like Hakuri got to? He actually kind of sticks out as if no one told him to dress all in black for this photo shoot!

I don't want to let my HakuHiro shipper bias get the better of me here though, so I'll just keep the crazy to myself until we learn more and/or I finish getting the Hiyuki thoughts in order.

Three, HEROINE HAKURI PROPAGANDA!

I'm being completely serious here! I've been banging pots and pans while screaming from the rooftops (internally) about how Hakuri is in the traditional heroine role since I wrote that HakuHiro essay around Chapter 38! He spares Hiyuki from having to balance things out by providing a soft touch because that's his job. And he's so good at it!

Seriously look at his pose! He's leaning in to Chihiro and doing a cute little gesture with his hands, looking so soft while Chihiro and Hiyuki are the baddest motherfuckers to ever exist! Hokazono-sensei was extremely serious when he said he intended for Hakuri to add cuteness. He's so cute! CUTE! But it's not like he's a total uwu marshmallow either- he's still got a really cool outfit on that highlights his boyish charm. He's just the "soft" one to Chihiro's cool and Hiyuki's fierce.

I know I'm a delusional lunatic for going nuts over this. And I hope it's clear that I'm not taking this as a sign that Hakuri's going to be an actual love interest. I'm not that far gone. I'm just always appreciating that Hakuri and Hiyuki essentially swapped roles in a traditional shounen trio in terms of what kind of balance they bring to the dynamic. I think it's an underrated aspect of Kagurabachi's appeal and I wish more shounen did this! Hokazono-sensei seems to love cute guys and cool women and I am 100% behind him if that's the case.

Rough entry but I'm not having a good time lately. Do your best to survive the rest of the year, kind void. We'll make it through for the sake of finding out how the Kagurabachi cast suffers from week to week if nothing else. Give yourself a little treat today, okay?

[cutehoons02]

I’m in love an idiot pt1 (PREVIEW)

*pairing: Jay Mercedes Driver x Shy fashion student

*trope: Grumpy for Sunshines

Speed or Love series ©cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2024.

Find the first part of the story of Sunghoon (Enemies to lovers) the stories can be read in any order but you will certainly find references to events as well in other characters. There will be a second part for this story

*tags: humor, speeding, shy girl but with a nice character, mocked, Jay is as much ossesed by her, good girl, first kiss, daughter of the engineer of Jay’s track, smut, jealousy, tease, Jay is really a green flag, he’ll fall in love first but she’ll fall in love slowly and strongly, smut in pubblic area?

*synopsis: Opening a brand of clothes has always been the dream of Y/ n but to be successful and make more people know his best friend came the idea of being able to ask for help the most beautiful driver of the circuit that who has more brands at its feet. Y/n doesn’t tolerate Jay’s presence because he is the exact opposite of her: full of friends, extrovert, has all the famous girls at his feet among influencers and models. Y/n will ask Jay for help but you know everyone wants something in return and what Jay wants is to be his first in everything, but what will Jay mean?

*The first part will be released tomorrow, December 2 or Tuesday, December 3

*small dialogues of what you find in the chapter:

You looked at the sketch before your eyes and puffed, Besides the window, you could see the entire skyline of Barceloneta and with that view, you should have felt relaxed and had some inspiration but instead in your head there was a cosmic nothingness only the sentence that had told you a few hours before Jay in the car.

"Park Jongseong please look at the street instead of looking at me, before i die i seriously want to graduate, give my first kiss, open my brand, and" Before you went ahead with the list of things you wanted to do before you died you felt the car lose speed and finally go at a speed that is suitable for the traffic code. "Wait, give your first kiss? Open a brand? What are you talking about? i didn’t think my engineer’s shy little daughter could be so interesting, sweetie because we never talked before!

"When you are with me, no harm will ever happen to you and, stop calling me an idiot, they have not taught you to respect people older than you and if you need me you should behave well!" "You’re four months older than me Jay not five years, tell me what you want in return and, lower the speed please" "I’d like to be your first in everything Y/n"

If your are interested in this story leave me your @ so that when i publish the story you will be first. ♡

[stir-knee-oh-low]

cold yet? || matt sturniolo

matt and izaria weren't exactly friends, but they'd had their fair share of moments. it was never about love— something they convinced themselves of.

to them, it was all a game of back and forth sarcastic comments with teasing smirks and empty flirting. they lived for the chase. to anyone else, it was easy to assume they loved each other’s company, but to them it was just “fun.”

they went to a party together, but as the night went on, the temperature dropped. it was matt who subtly showed he'd been paying attention. he didn't ask if she was cold; instead, he broke her to finally admit it and then just so "happened" to have one in the back seat, pretending like he hadn't thought ahead. it was a small gesture, but the meaning behind it was clear: he cared more than he'd ever let her know.

content: fluff, banter, and flirting, flirty!matt x stubborn!reader

“so… you comin with?” his blue eyes, lazy yet expectant, staring back through the screen. there was no urgency, no rush— the dim glow of his tv casting different shadows on his face highlighting his cocky tilted smile, like he already knew the answer.

lounging on her bed, with her own tv on playing different voice in the back she replied “please... you'd be bored without me” matching his tone, knowing full well he liked having her around, more than he'd like to admit.

“yeah ok” he rolled his eyes, already hearing the sarcastic remark in her voice before she even said anything. almost as to say don’t get too confident now. “just don’t forget your jacket. might get cold later” but she might’ve scoffed a bit too loud because who was he to tell her what to do, she thought. except beneath her actions, a small part of her wondered did he actually notice more about her than she realized? "i'm sure i'll be fine" iz responded, regardless of those small feelings, still being a little too confident. "whatever... i'll text you when I'm coming to pick you up later" "alright" the call ended, leaving her alone to figure out what outfit would get under matt’s skin the most

matt was in iz's driveway waiting and as izaria walked closer to the door and opening it he couldn't help but glance briefly at her outfit as she climbed in on the passenger's side. a mini skirt and small top that basically covered nothing. "c'mon iz... you really didn't bring a jacket?" he genuinely wanted her to bring a jacket but he knew her all too well. her stubbornness was granted and he knew she’d pull something like this. holding back from smirking, he knew it’d only make the night more amusing " 'm not taking advice from the guy that wears the same outfit every time we go out" she bites back with a smirk. all matt does was shrug, keeping his eyes on the road and grinning before slyly replying "not my fault I look good in it, right?" shooting her a sideways smile, she rolled her eyes in pure disbelief "whatever" iz was annoyed at how it seemed like he always got the last word. and she hated how effortlessly he could flash his smug grin, knowing she'd never call him out on how much it got to her. but even then, he never heard her deny it.

as the night went on, the air got colder and began biting at iz’s skin, sending sharp chills down her spine. and as much as she hated to admit it her thin strapy top and a skirt that hung only a few inches beneath her waist was a cute outfit but a bold, yet stupid move nonetheless.

now that she was actually outside with the cold air mockingly brushing her skin, it was beginning to seem like an obviously bad choice as it wasn't exactly helping her prove her point. stubborn as ever, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to act like the cold didn’t bother her.

however matt noticed. of course he did. she could feel his eyes on her from across the yard, even while he laughed at something one of his friends said. he didn’t approach her immediately, though—he waited, letting her sit with her pride for a little too long before noticing her give in, sliding the back door open and sneaking inside the house.

“cold yet?” matt’s teasing voice caught her off guard as she didn’t realize he had followed behind her. leaning against the counter, water bottle in hand, smirking like he’d been waiting for this moment.

iz turned to face him, “i’m fine,” she said oddly calm, though her shivering betrayed her.

“sure you are” he knowingly responded, taking a sip of water “the whole freezing-to-death thing kinda suits you though.” she glared at him, hugging her arms tighter. “i’m not freezing. I’m just—”

“cold?” he interrupted, his smug grin widening.

iz sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “your impossible to be around , you know that?”

“and yet, here you are.” iz narrowed her eyes at him, refusing to let the smirk on his face get under her skin. before she could come up with a sharp comeback, matt pushed off the counter, his tone shifting slightly.

“come on,” he said, nodding toward the door. “let’s get out of here before it gets even colder. i’m tired anyway.”

her first instinct was to refuse, to stay and prove that she didn’t need him to rescue her. she opened her mouth to argue, but somehow could think of anything to say. almost like she was somewhat out of comebacks

“fine,” she muttered, trying to make it sound like she was doing him a favor. “fine,” matt copied her with a grin, already heading toward the backyard.

they said quick goodbyes to their friends, gathering their stuff before stepping into the chilly night. as they walked through the different cars in the driveway to matt’s car.

“oh,” matt said casually as he unlocked the doors, “i think i might’ve left a jacket in the backseat the other day. you can grab it while the car heats up.”

iz paused, one hand hovering near the door handle. something about the way he said it felt off—not in a bad way, just... calculated. she opened the door and spotted the jacket right away, neatly folded like it had been waiting for her.

matt watched her pull it out. he had planned this. of course he had. he’d thrown the jacket into the car earlier, convincing himself it was no big deal. just in case. no harm in being prepared, right? but now, seeing her hold it, slip it on, he wondered if it was too obvious.

“really?” she asked, turning toward him, her voice skeptical as she slid her arms through the sleeves. “so this just happens to be here?”

it was easier to fall into old habits, to tease and deflect, than admit he’d thought about her—about her being cold, about her maybe needing him. “what, you think i brought it here just for you?”

her brow arched, the fabric of the jacket soft and oversized on her. “i don’t know, matt. you don’t exactly strike me as the ‘just in case’ type.” matt’s chest tightened for a second. he could tell she was trying to figure him out, and the thought made him nervous in a way he didn’t like to admit.

“just feels convenient,” she muttered, though the bite in her tone had softened.

“or,” matt said, stepping closer and lowering his voice just enough to make her heart skip a beat, “maybe you’re just reading too much into it.” matt had no idea why he was nervous—this was iz. teasing her was second nature, messing with her was even easier. but this wasn’t that. not anymore. being so close to her it made the atmosphere feel off balance.

the way he looked at her then—like he was daring her to call him out, like he knew she wouldn’t—made her stomach flip. she wanted to laugh it off, to roll her eyes and call him insufferable again, but the words wouldn’t come. instead, she held his gaze a second too long, long enough for the air between them to shift.

she simply looked up at him, innocent and confused, and for a second, matt forgot how to breathe.

iz felt it too. the weight of the silence between them, the way her heart pounded in her chest, the way the cold no longer mattered. she hated this—realizing he could easily make her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

matt pulled back, his smirk returning, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “come on. get in the car,” he said, his voice quieter now. “before you overthink it.” yeah— would want that now would we? she thought. she climbed into his car unable to shake off the tension that she just experienced.

val’s notes 💌

pt 2?? guys plss😭 i literally said i was gonna post this weeks ago and then i got caught up with school. good thing is that i have exams next week and then im free to hopefully post more!! but pls lmk if this was good. ill post pt 2 soon (actually this time. at most in 2 weeks😭) sorry!! but anyways hope yall liked this one!!

OMGG ALSOO the first person on my taglist!! ⬇️

TAGLIST: @bibbleisking

def let me know ig you want to be apart of the taglist by commenting or sending me an inbox!! and if you want to be taken off also let me know through inbox or comments!!🩷🫶

[egginfroggin]

I usually try not to get too negative on my blog, but I have to say that one thing that I'm worried about with AI art is the possible accusations that could be placed on people with certain artstyles (surrealism, hyperrealism, etc.) that are more prone to the "uncanny valley" effect, or even just artists who are in that midway point where most of a piece looks great but there's a few things that are anatomically questionable.

I think it's fine for people to have suspicions, but I'm worried that people will come to expect things such as progress videos or shots as a given, and that this will intimidate young or new artists, making them feel incredibly pressured to provide things that they shouldn't have to. And, speaking from experience, pressure does not do good things to the creative mind.

I'm worried that people will start seeing inconsistencies or awkward anatomy and immediately react with accusations of AI. It's happening on other platforms, and probably also on Tumblr, and as much as I dislike AI, I think that people need to learn to slow down and really look at something before making that accusation.

What good will stamping out AI with vigor do if innocent artists get caught in the crossfire and stop creating out of fear? What good will it do if the next generation of artists is too scared to share and inspire each other?

Genuinely, I would personally rather deal with AI images existing while still being able to freely share my actual works than I would deal with tiptoeing around very real people who would dismiss my hours of work (and musculoskeletal pain) as worthless and not real. Let artists still be free for goodness' sake.

I can be more thoroughly worded later if anyone asks, and this will probably be sorely misinterpreted, but I just need to get this out and I'm tired.

TLDR: It's fine to be against AI-generated images, but please check yourself and be careful who you accuse of using such technology before you get someone innocent caught up in it. AI-generated art isn't great, and neither is putting down someone's hard work as fake.

[mazzystar24]

Okay okay I know the death doula is causing a lot of discourse rn but I’m not focused on that I’m more focused on the potential my brain supplied from this idea, I mean a living funeral and buck interested in some capacity to a death doula this in my head can so easily equal buck making slightly morbid comments about his death and near death experiences or saying something about how he understands why someone would want a living funeral and he would wanna know what it would be like and then Eddie just having an absolutely batshit response to Buck nonchalantly talking about his death

(like for any teen wolf fans remember that scene where stiles goes off at Lydia saying “See, that's the problem. You–you don't care about getting hurt. But you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated. And if you die, I will literally go out of my freakin' mind. You see, death doesn't happen to you, Lydia. It happens to everyone around you, okay? To all the people left standing at your funeral, trying to figure out how they're gonna live the rest of their lives now without you in it!” )

IMAGINE SOME VERSION OF THAT ITS SO GOOD IT MAKES MY BRAIN SCREECH INCOHERENTLY

Like imagine IMAGINE it alter it to your liking add a reference to Christopher losing another parent or saying how he was dead (for 3 minutes and 17 seconds) and how Buck has no idea how that felt

UGH IT ACTUALLY MAKES ME FERAL TO THINK ABOUT

[growingwithem]

Eunhyuk donate 40,04 million won to support children and adolescents taking care of sick family member at an age when they need to be taken care of ❤️‍🩹

On April 4, the Green Umbrella Children's Foundation said "On Eunhyuk's birthday, the Super Junior member donated 40,040,000 won to support children and adolescents who care for relatives (children and adolescents who care for relatives or relatives who have difficulties such as disabilities, illnesses and mental illness).

The donation delivered by Eunhyuk is the amount raised by adding the proceeds from Eunhyuk's fan meeting held on March 30th & Eunhyuk's personal expenses. Eunhyuk said, "Since I was a child, seeing my father working at a child welfare center, I wanted to become a person who can help children when I grow up."

Choi Woon-jung, director of the Green Umbrella Children's Foundation's Seoul Regional Headquarters 2, said “I am grateful to Eunhyuk for taking an interest in children and adolescents taking care of their families, a blind spot in child welfare, and spreading a good influence."

Eunhyuk continues to do good deeds since 2021, such as donations to support children's housin.

[buttercuparry]

1k+ notes over a day, only for the fundraiser to barely have moved at all in 12 hours.

I don't know maybe you are tired of hearing about Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) but you have to remember that he is trying to survive through a genocide. I can guarantee you that he doesn't like asking for help either, rather everyday he struggles to reach out to people. I mean it is kind of horrible to have gone through Zionist harassment and then finding out that people have stopped responding to you in every way. It kills something inside, especially so soon after finding out that the occupation forces have once again bombed your already destroyed house for no purpose at all, except to flex their power .

Right now Siraj's family is struggling to make do. With the early set in of torrential rains, they don't know what is going to happen. They don't know if the 10 children of the family and the elderly parents will survive through this incoming winter! It is so horrible to have to beg for a chance to survive. So horrible to explain every detail of your life, your every action which in this case entails why he had to increase the end goal of the campaign. I don't know why the donations have stopped but you do realize that he wouldn't be bothering any of you if a settler colony was not bent on destroying Gaza to cement its existence right? He would have been in his home. His kids, his nephews and nieces would all be in the home he took a decade of pain to built. They wouldn't be terrified of the harsh winter ahead and that house of theirs would have given shelter to generations!

Siraj is begging you to donate so that he may buy shaders to water proof his tent. If in the next week the rains start without mercy, then the family at least wouldn't have to worry about leaks of icy water.

$80,121 / $82,000 CAD

1.8k to go. Please help Siraj reach the goal BY TOMORROW so that he may at least buy the shaders to waterproof the tent. Boost and Donate.

Vetting #219

[roturo]

SUCCESSOR -`♡´-

summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.

warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.

a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!

You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.

L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:

He believes he’s going to die soon.

This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.

L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.

He needs a successor.

And soon.

Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.

You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.

Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.

The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.

You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”

Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.

“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”

The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.

“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”

A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.

“I need time to think about this,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.

L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”

Finally, you made your decision.

One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”

For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”

You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”

L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”

You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience.  Should… we do it tonight?”

“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.

L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.

He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?

His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.

“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”

He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”

His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.

He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.

The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.

This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.

He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.

He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.

His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.

Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.

“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”

He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.

“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”

His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.

As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.

“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”

You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.

Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.

As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”

“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

[okkalo]

a lovestruck miya atsumu would do anything for you. he didn’t care about appearances and how he looked to anyone else. you were the one he desperately hoped would give him some type of approval, after all.

long day of walking and your feet are sore? he’ll do what he never would with anyone else and kneel before you like a damn dog, taking your shoes off for you and begin massaging your feet. something else sore? go ahead and tell him while he’s massaging and he’ll change his spot of focus without a second thought.

cold around him? he’s taking off anything he can to give to you in hopes it would keep you warm—please tell him to stop stripping in public. dropped something? oh, and it so happened to fall in the depths of the ocean? he’s diving right in. no equipment is needed for the best setter in the world (he almost died that day).

god forbid he see you with another man. he’s coming up to you like you’re a spiker he needs to claim, slinging his arm around you and butting straight into the conversation. if the guy’s far too close for his comfort, he’ll make sure to give you a big wet kiss on your lips as well. he’ll give you a list of reasons about why the other guy was far from your league once you two are alone as well.

miya atsumu hates losing after all, and he vowed to never lose you to another man.

[spatialwave]

➸ ask: "Haii! I love your writing, could I request JayvikxReader please? Maybe something fluffy, like a cozy winter morning with them? Or something smutty, like Reader and Jayce making Viktor feel good? Maybe add some angst, he feels like he is not as attractive or is a third wheel so you two make sure he knows you both love him? 🙈 Thank you!" – ➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ word count: 2.1k ➸ tags: mdni! mild-nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, polyamory, canon-divergent a.k.a. nothing bad ever happens lol. ➸ notes: i tried to combine all the ideas together! not as smutty because i really got invested in the angst… i’m sorry 😭 tysm for sending an ask! <3

The smell of freshly brewed black tea, the scent strong enough to flutter your eyes open as your body stretched across the bed. A mess of blankets, one body beside you, and the winter sun filtering through the half-shut curtains. The daylight on your skin warmed your body, a feeling that you had missed during the past few weeks of dreary weather that left most Piltover citizens huddled away indoors.

“Good morning,” a tired voice rumbled next to you, muscled arms wrapping around your body and tugging you close. You were nestled into Jayce’s chest, face pressed against his skin, and wanting nothing more than to fall right back into sleep and forget about the day and any responsibilities you may have.

“Mmh,” you grunted in response, inhaling a deep breath as you peered up through sleep-riddled eyes. Your eyes locked with Jayce’s, a beautiful colour mixed of golden hues that put the evening sun to shame, “I like this new look,” you hummed quietly, fingers tracing along the edge of the beard he had yet to shave. Even his hair had begun to curl over his ears.

“Yeah?” He grinned, revealing that stupid tooth gap between his two front teeth you loved so much, “I don’t know. I’m starting to feel a bit shaggy.”

The blanket slipped from your body as you sat up in the bed next to him, yawning as your arms outstretched above you and a familiar hand smoothed over your hip, “it looks good, Jayce,” you said through a soft smile, “it’s not like you have anyone to impress these days.”

“Ouch,” he smirked, shifting to sit up against the pillows, hand moving over your thigh as you sat next to him, “suppose you’re right.”

Life had been quiet since Jayce stepped down from the council, focusing full-time on hextech with Viktor, exploring the possibilities and understanding the hexcore. It was meticulous work, but it was work that needed to be done. They both vowed their lives to it.

“Where’s Viktor?” You looked toward the open bedroom door, the smell of tea still wafting through the air. He couldn’t have been gone from bed for too long, likely set up somewhere with scatterings of research papers. Or a good book if he was taking a break.

Jayce sat forward, removing his hand from you so he could push the blankets off and swing his legs off of the bed. His movements slow as his body slowly woke up, “Is it just me, or has he been distant lately?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, shuffling off of the bed and sliding into your slippers, the floorboards cool from the deep drops in temperature outside, “I tried asking him about it yesterday, and he brushed me off.”

“Mhm,” Jayce mumbled passively, stepping beside you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you against his chest, rousing a giggle from you. 

“Stop,” you laughed loudly as he kissed at your neck and ear, the thick hair on his face tickling you.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled lowly into your ear, you could feel his smile on your skin, “we better go say good morning.”

“Already ahead of you,” you rolled your eyes, peeling away from his arms and stepping out into the hallway that lead you right to him. There he sat in the office they’d set up for home, hunched over the desk with a cup of steaming tea and eyes glued to one of the hundreds of research notebooks they’d collected.

“Good morning, love,” you hummed, stepping into the mess of a room and smiling brightly as Viktor glanced over his shoulder at you. His eyes were tired, cheeks rather sunken in – ill. Over the course of the past few months he’d been struggling more, but stubborn when you and Jayce offered help.

“Morning,” he murmured, running a hand over his tired eyes, “thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“I bet you would’ve really liked that, wouldn’t you?” You asked, shaking your head as you stepped toward him and against the back of his chair, eyes scouring over the pages, “Getting work done?” Your hand absently rested on his shoulder, the other brushing through his hair that flipped out at the ends.

Viktor’s body relaxed in your hands, eyes closing, “Not really,” he sighed, and you could feel the defeat that had sunken in him. 

You only then had realized Jayce didn’t follow you in, the distant sound of the shower starting.

“Hey,” you murmured, inhaling a deep breath as you moved to sit up on the desk, your line of sight above Viktor as you looked down at him, “what’s wrong?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, a quick shake of his head following as he adjusted himself on his seat, “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Viktor,” you tilted your head, hand stealing the book away from his hands. His eyes snapped open immediately, trying to reach for the notes, but you pulled it away and set it on the other side of yourself, “I’m not leaving you alone unless you talk with me. Properly this time.”

A heavy sigh came from his lips, looking up at you with the faintest of pouts on his lips, “are you going to ask me why I’ve been distant again? Or is it something else to bother me about this time?”

The words were sharp, but they hadn’t stung. You didn’t take it personally.

“You’re smart enough to know,” you frowned, clenching your jaw, “it’s not fair to Jayce and me.”

“What isn’t fair? That I’m feeling unwell?” Viktor has been angrier than you realized, but you didn’t flinch at his outburst. He grabbed his crutch, using it to pull himself out of his chair as the metal of his leg brace creaked, and you tried to help, but he swatted your hand away, “That I have to stay home everyday working on hextech, while Jayce gets to go to the lab? While you two get to spend all your time together while I stay here?”

“Oh,” your eyes widened, pulling your hands back and staring at him. You didn’t know what to say, and you noticed the embarrassed look in his eyes – shame.

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered.

“Viktor, is that what this is about?” Your heart ached as you slid off of the desk, stepping up to him and resting your hands along the sharp lines of his jaw.

He tried turning his head away, but you had the advantage now and kept him still, looking up at him with those big doe-eyes that worked too well on him and made his stomach twist in the best way possible. He did his best to avoid your gaze, feeling nothing short of pathetic.

“Can we leave it be?” He eventually croaked, “pretend I didn’t say anything, please?”

“I ran a shower for you, Viktor,” Jayce stepped into the room, towel in his hand as he looked between you two. There was a tension in the room that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, “uh, bad time?”

“Thanks,” Viktor mumbled, pulling away from you and limping against his crutch as he took the towel and marched his way out of the office, slowly.

“Do you need a han–”

“No.”

Silence filled the office as Viktor left, leaving the two of you stunned in silence. Jayce turned toward you, a puzzled expression on his face as he tried to put the pieces together.

“We haven’t been good partners,” you groaned, turning to press your face against him, mind reeling for ways to remedy Viktor’s heartache. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt, having far too much privilege in this situation.

“Is he mad I’ve been spending too much time away?” He asked, ripping you from your thoughts, “I could bring some of the lab stuff home, or… or I could take some time off! Right?”

“No,” you let out a breathy laugh at his eagerness, one of the many traits of Jayce Talis that made you fall so madly in love with him, “well, maybe.”

“I can go right now,” he moved to turn.

“Jayce,” you laughed, holding him back from turning your home into the newest hextech laboratory and spending countless hours trudging through the snow with heavy equipment, “Baby steps. He’s been quite tired, lately. Maybe we should get him to bed and see if we can help him someway,” you wore a sly smile on your lips, attempting to push Jayce’s thoughts in the same direction as yours. 

He huffed out a laugh, “Sounds like you’re the worked up one trying to get what you want.”

You playfully hit his arm, “Oh, shut up. Like you aren’t, it’s been weeks. If we’re feeling it, then he is too,” you put your hands on his back, pushing him toward the door, “let me take care of it.”

You found yourself in the bathroom with Viktor, him sitting on a chair you’d slid in so you could help him. Help that he was appreciative of after taking time to de-stress.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes closed as you ran the towel through his hair, “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

Anger wasn’t a feeling that Viktor was so familiar with, it often fleeted right by him. He had always been so ambitious, ready to take on the world with a cup half-full mentality. These past few years had taken its toll on him, leaving him uncertain. 

Worried. 

“It’s okay, love,” you cooed, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead as he tilted his head back on the chair, looking up at you, “you should come rest with us. It’s cold out, we deserve a day in bed.”

You could see a spark flicker in his eyes, the first in days. That’s all you wanted, was to see that spark more often, to show Viktor that he wasn’t being left behind – that you and Jayce couldn’t even imagine a life without loving him like you do. That, itself, would be an injustice.

Once refreshed, you helped him to the bedroom with nothing more than a gentle hand on his back. Mindful about your actions, knowing now that as much as he hid it well, he had pride. A need to just feel normal, once in a while. Like he wasn’t just the sick man people saw him as – the sick man he knew he was.

Jayce was sitting up in bed, legs sprawled over the mess of blankets and a book in his hand. Eyes flickered up from the bed, a small smile on his lips as he sat up.

“There he is. The love of my life,” he beamed, snapping the book shut.

“Eh, that’s too much, Jayce,” Viktor sighed, cringing at the display of affection, and you snorted out a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, sitting up as he watched Viktor move into the bed and lay against the pillows, admiring him, “I can’t appreciate you?”

“You heard him, it’s too much,” you teased, closing the blinds so you could all hide away from the snowy surroundings. Take the time to focus on only each other.

Viktor looked up at Jayce, long lashes fluttering as a pink shade tinted his cheeks. One of his calloused hands gently rubbed along his slender waist where his ribs were visible, tilting down and wasting no time in closing the distance between their lips.

You crawled onto the other side of the bed, sliding against Viktor with ease, lips on his shoulders and hands exploring his body. You hoped you hadn’t been too eager.

“You don’t have to do this,” Viktor’s voice muffled against Jayce’s lips, frail hands pressing to his hardened chest, “I get it.”

“I want to,” Jayce answered earnestly, pulling back from their kiss, “I love you. You know that, right?”

“... I do.”

There was nothing else in the world that you and Jayce wanted more than to make sure that Viktor was loved and cared for, that his heart could be full when his mind and body felt weak. To know that you both unequivocally and unconditionally loved him, more than one should bear.

Viktor’s body was sensitive as you and Jayce ravaged him – tired and weak, but craving everything you two offered him. Eating up the desire like a starved man.

You straddled his hips, rocking atop of him lazily while Jayce pressed heady kisses along his neck, licking at the marks he left behind. Everyone was tired, paces slowing down and bodies spent, but you didn’t have the need to stop. You all made up for lost time, and you and Jayce showed Viktor just how much love you had for him.

“Thank you,” Viktor whimpered.

[everythingspokenfor]

All characters are aged up 18+ MDNI

You should have known.

Bakugou rarely ever asks you to sit on his right, you always sit on his left, during work meetings, car rides, movie nights, interviews. You always sit on his left, so Bakugou can place a protective hand on your thigh or maybe guide you around the gala with a hand behind your back or an arm around your shoulders on colder evenings.

But, Bakugou on some occasions, some boring and time consuming occasions, he does make you sit on his right.

You have had previous occasions where you sat on his right. And you know they are usually filled with him constantly teasing you till your cunt is gooey and wet. Then he takes you somewhere private and give you the sweet release.

But today, today takes the cake. Both of you were sitting in the far end of a meeting table. It seems casual really, Bakugou sitting with his hands in his lap and you hunched over probably bored out of your mind. But really wasn't true.

Underneath the table, his fingers were working magic on your poor clit. Rough fingers tracing little O's on your throbbing bud. Occasionally dipping his fingers into your weeping hole and smearing the wetness over your cunt.

You were a mess really. Fingers tapping impatiently on the table top, waiting for this meeting to be over. Worst part Kirishima sat ahead of you both, looking over his shoulder ever once in a while to make a face or crack job about dying of boredom, Although his eyes held a glint of mischief.

You couldn't really afford anyone finding out what really was going on. But, you were going to cum, cunt spasming around Bakugou's fingers, clit pulsing with a beat. You were sure that there was a little puddle of your wetness on the chair.

Bakugou knew you were going to cum, he knew that cunt was seconds away from sweet release. Few more circles on that bud and boom.

He knew what will happen. You knew what will happen.

But it didn't. It didn't happen. Bakugou pulled his hands out of your pants moments before your cunt gushed.

You stared at him bewildered. Cunt still pulsing around nothing, clit still throbbing against your panties, anticipation still ringing in your ears.

Bakugou looked at you with mischief in his eyes before he scooted his chair back a little."Someone else wanted to join the fun too" He said before he unzipped his pants, looking under the table.

Following his gaze, you saw Kirishima looking at your soaked panties, with hunger in his eyes.

Pushing your panties to the side,"She looks angry, let me fix that please", He whispered.

Looking over to Bakugou you spread you legs slightly.

-----

[landiary]

privacy ☆ lee heeseung

pairing stepbro!hee x afab!reader

genre smut.

warning dry humping, masturbating, choking, face fucking (m&f), cowgirl. spanking, overstimulation, squirt, creampie. not proofread.

a/n based in a dream i had, i LITERALLY been writing this during a whole month and finally it’s done hope u like itttt

words 3,5k

in your house, privacy was not something that your parents considered important, so you always fight demanding your privacy, where you would find shouts from your mother who said "do you have something to hide from us?" or from your father, using the same words as always "dont even think about bringing a guy home."

so you always ended up in your room with the only shoulder you could cry on, heeseung’s, your stepbrother. there were no problems with him, he was the most understanding and the one who always fought with you in some arguments, confronting your parents. although most of the time he was not at home, as he is an adult he work for living and can go a whole week without showing up.

his room? it was a complete mystery. since you couldn't maintain privacy with your parents, you kept it between the two of you. the only thing you knew was that he had a gaming pc, a shelf with some devilish plushies, and more things than any room would have.

it was a midnight friday, you used to call your friends to gossip, but in this case they wanted to play video games. you grabbed your laptop and turned it on, but it didn't take long for it to start working wrong. "this shit doesn't work!" you silently shouted out of respect for your parents who were already sleeping.

"please, y/n i told you to use heeseung's." your friend said via discord call. "im considering it, but if he found out he'd kill me." you laughed despite wanting to cry at the slowness of your laptop. your other friend, decided to speak, "will never find out. hes a man, thinks with his dick, not his head." was what encouraged you to hang out the discord call and go ahead.

this week was one of those where hee was gone for days, and you were ovulating specially to make bad decisions. barefoot, in front of the door of his room with a sign that said in capital letters "DO NOT ENTER", you silently entered. a scent of man's cologne was your first impression upon entering, however when you turned on the light, it left a lot to be desired. it was small, but considering that he was almost gone, it was just the right and necessary size. a small closet, a large bed, as was said before, his computer and the shelves of weird plushies.

"did it." you said to both girls. you felt weird. so comfortable in a gaming chair, clearly hearing every sound with those headphones, with such a large screen in front, dim led lights in the background.

you felt guilty, but you couldn't help but do it, so it happened about three more times.

the first day, it was to play with your friends. second day, you did the same thing, however you were so tired that you didn't make it to your room, so you ended up sleeping in heeseung's bed.

the third day was sunday. your friends were responsible women, so they weren't going to play video games on a sunday night, but you decided to play the sims 4 all night. you lost track of time, but you got bored quickly and deleted your game so as not to leave a trace that you were there.

the headache was present the moment you left the computer, and under the dim lights you began to explore heeseung's room as if it were an escape room. at this point, you didn't give a shit about privacy.

his closet had the most delicious smell in the world: man. all his closet were messy and the drawers even more so. the desk was something you had been looking at for a while from sitting in front of the pc, but you never realized the mess of pens and meaningless sketches that were lying around. you wanted to give him a helping hand and clean him up but the idea was that he would never realize you were there.

finally, the plushies shelf. how is it that a man can collect this shit? you may ask. he was a special guy, because his plushies were disgustingly horrible that they were even scary. you grabbed one, and you were surprised at how soft the fur was. "now i understand why he likes them." you said to yourself.

you don't know if it was that you felt high by his cologne, but a not very holy idea came to your mind after touching the plushie. still with that weird ass bear in your hands, you walked to his bed, threw yourself face down and began to look at it. it was a bear with sharp teeth and red eyes. you already knew what you had to do.

you leaned the stuffed animal's face against the bed, not intending to see it, and knelt on it. you gasped from the pressure, but you quickly got used to it. you had nowhere to hold onto, so you went to the edge of the bed and grabbed onto the bed frame platform.

the swaying of your hips against the soft texture of that stuffed bear made you stop panting and start moaning moderately. for more excitement, you lifted your shirt leaving your bare breasts to crash against the cold atmosphere of that room. one hand holding your trembling body and the other massaging one of your tits, which had a sensitive nipple.

your legs started to get tired and your body started to ask for more. bored of continuing to rub yourself with the plushie, you pushed it aside and lay down while putting your hands inside your panties. you were clearly soaking wet. "so fuckin sorry, hee." followed by a moan, ready not to move until you cum undone on his bed.

since heeseung had returned home, you didn't go back to his room. that day you preferred not to remember. you almost took the risk of him finding you, because it was the same day he came home, but you woke up to the sounds of cats fighting on the ceiling and you were able to get back to your room sooner.

he never said anything to you, he didn't complain about anything, but it was weird for you to see how he was inside your room without even knocking on the door. "come with me” he said straight and firm. "hee, did something happen?"

"don't make me repeat myself." as he came out of your room, you ran after him.

in just seconds you regretted everything you did because knowing how he is, for some reason you thought he could have noticed. and yes, you take responsibility because you knew he was very angry.

when you reach the door of his room, he opens it leaving you the pass free, two steps were enough to make him also inside and close the door very tightly behind him.

"why don't you act surprised?" he asks, sitting in front of the pc without even looking at you. "why should I be?" you answer with another question. nerves get on you, and you had flashbacks of THAT night because of how your legs were shaking right now. you couldn't do anything because of the shame and guilt.

heeseung leaned back on the gaming chair, which by the way, is reclining. "first, i realized that some things weren't in place. i thought it was simply cuz i get home high as fuck, but i decided to trust my instinct." he paused before continuing. "do you like dim lights? cuz i think you weren't smart enough to notice a very important detail with the lights off." when you looked up your eyes were terrified to see a red light flickering from a small camera.

"heeseung, i-" he interrupted you. "i watched everything, y/n." you didn't want to maintain eye contact but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, you knew perfectly well that on his screen was that fucking image of sunday night. he got up from his chair and slowly approached you. "can't believe my stepsister turned out into a slutty whore."

with a pre-assembled cigarette, he took a puff and blew the smoke in your face. "instead of doing it in your room, you needed to do it in someone else's bed?" purposely set the ironic tone in the question. he put the cigarette in his mouth and he threw you on your back to the bed, without any kind of softness. "you know what's the best thing about all of this?" your legs separated by heeseung’s knee, which wasn't that far from brushing against your crotch. "that fucking bear still has your scent." imagining him smelling the bear made you feel like a patch of moisture was making on your panties. "think i'll have to teach you manners, don't i?"

your parents weren't at home, it was just you and him, so the silence became noisy when your thoughts prevented you from answering him. heeseung’s hands gently lifted your chin, worthlessly forcing you to look him in the eye. "i know how you feel, i wouldn't be able to look you in the eye either if i had done what you did," his thumb moved from your chin to your jugular. "but i didn't cuz i do respect your privacy."

"stop talking about privacy." your demanding tone surprised him a bit, which made him laugh wryly. "god, y/n... you do it on purpose, don't you?" considering that his hand was on your neck, he pressed down. "you're a big girl... big girls take responsibility for what they do, right?" your throat wouldn't let you speak so you just nodded your head.

the image of what came next did not displease you at all. you took responsibility for your mistakes even though you enjoyed it more than in your own bed. he was furious, all he saw was red, you could tell by the way he spoke, the way he was grabbing you, and how his lips moved desperately over yours. following the kiss didn't help to diminish his strength over you, but it did help a bulge in his pants to grow.

his knee subconsciously touched your crotch. heeseung noticing this, he lowered his knee from the bed and stopped kissing you, but both were still connected by your saliva. "can't let you have the same pleasure again, princess, you were very disrespectful." he kept his hand on your neck at all time, but then decided to wipe away the saliva dripping from your mouth with his thumb. "how about you focus on me?"

roles had changed. he was sitting on the bed in his unzipped jeans, while you kept your sanity to endure the knee pain. heeseung never let you go. after a "can you do that for me, pretty?" and accessing, the two of you continued to connect to each other through touch.

his hand grabbed yours to make you touch his marked bulge. was it necessary? no, you knew how to pull and suck it very well. but this isn't about what you know or don't know, it's about your mistake and making him feel good. no matter how much your hand was guided, the sensation of its length made your mouth water. he was big as fuck, you knew it very well.

heeseung was panting from movements he made himself, until he finally let you do it by yourself. besides the fact that it was thick, you could feel how hard it was under the thin fabric, so it didn't take long for you to release it. it bounced and slammed into hee's abdomen, making him shudder. his pink tip had precum, which you decided to make disappear with your tongue. the tip fits, the rest didn't.

the only help he gave you was to grab your hair so it wouldn't bother you while you were doing yhe blowjob.

you kept making circles on his tip, but since it also needed more attention at the base, you used your hand. "just like that." you smiled a little when you heard that, seeing it in a way you never imagined seeing. all horny and needy, panting for a little touch.

you looked up to see him and you took a sublime scene. eyes shut, lips swollen from blocking moans, jaw clenched, heavy panting. the fact that you both must surely have been recorded by the cameras installed, turned you on even more. the lower part of your hips were humping the floor with need, need which heeseung felt. his eyes didn't open completely, yet his eyes penetrated your aura.

it did not help at all to maintain his position. his dick squirmed in your mouth and without warning painted your mouthwalls white, forcing you to swallow. "fuck..." he groaned before collapsing on his bed. you tried to do something to provoke him again, the first thing that came to your mind was to climb on his lap, but in one quick movement he got you on all fours.

your shorts weren't a hindrance for him, because the thin fabric was easy to handle. "i can tell you don't need any prep, don't you?" you seemed to be very wet from what he saw through your panties, but after knowing the size of his member you thought that it was impossible to get in there. "i have no choice but to fuck the shit out of you if you stay that quiet."

"no..." you said quickly, desperately. "no, hee, please." you weren't sure if you were going to convince him just by begging him. "i'll be a good girl from now on, but please..." an unconscious moan came out of your mouth, and the fabric was starting to bother you. "eat me out."

"and do you think you deserve it?" you could feel his powerful gaze against your ass. "no, i don't deserve it at all, but if my mouth couldn't handle that massive cock, i doubt my cunt will." heeseung's index finger went to your waistband and pulled it down. within seconds he took your place, kneeling on the floor to appreciate your drooling pussy.

"taste me." you dared to say. "keep your mouth shut." he said with the same tongue with which he began to gave you a head. unfortunately, you couldn't listen to him and keep quiet. at least not when he was doing his job so well.

the wet sound of you being devoured by the mouth of that hungry man made you even more horny. your moans threatened to come out and you scratched the sheets. you wondered if he did it with such eagerness because he had really wanted to do it for a long time or just because he felt like it. you didn't know, you didn't care, all you wanted to do was untie the knot he had created in your abdomen and release it all in his mouth.

"heeseung..." he had asked you to be quiet a while ago, but the way you said his name had his cock twitching. he kept the same speed, he was being so gentle that it was starting to get boring. you tried to rub your hips on him but it was impossible, his hands caught you to keep you still the moment you tried to give yourself more pleasure than he was giving you. without saying a word, he told you everything.

"can you go faster?" you asked in a low tone. Your face turned red as Heeseung stopped licking you and stared at you. "you see?..." you were quiet making eye contact with him. "it's not that hard to say what you want, pervert." as quickly as he could finish his sentence, he kept eating you like a fucking god, this time being much rougher and faster than last time.

it was already impossible to keep your arms steady with your body trembling from your growing orgasm. your moans hit the mattress drowning them, and the warmth he gave you began to create sweat drops falling down your forehead. "hee... fu-" you were confused. his tongue stopped being in it’s place at the moment you needed it most, you were about to cum. "what the-" heeseung lay next to you on the bed, his cock was again hard and exposed, he had nothing on his bottom part. "you wanna cum? show me how it's done."

in order not to look desperate, as much as you needed it, you decided to approach slowly. you lay on it, not lying down completely, and with your bare hands you lined up its cock in your pussy, brushing the tip. you couldn't help but let out a gasp, which had a quick response from heeseung. "don't tease stepsis." "you were literally teasing me all afternoon, i can do it too, can't i?" heeseung let out a nasal laugh wanting to cover up moans. "know your place princess. now, bounce on me."

you moved its tip a little more and then stuck it in your driveway. if his fat dickhead made you feel that tight, you didn't want to imagine what was going to happen to the rest of his cock. you threw your head back and filled yourself with courage to put the rest in. your throat built a sublime moan for the man's ears.

you had to deal with your own weight for a while, jumping on him slowly so you wouldn't get tired too quickly. you opened your asschecks so you could had more access. if heeseung hadn't eaten you out, you're sure you wouldn't be able to move that easily.

heeseung didn't take his eyes off your clothed breasts. he had both hands free until he finally decided to touch you. his right hand went to hold one of your hips, the other went to lift your baby tee, underneath that you didn't have a bra, so it was easy for your stepbrother to let your breasts free.

"if i had known you were going to be so good to me, i would have fucked you before." his two hands on your hips were a help to make a more fluid moves, also his words made you so wetter. you lied down "need you so much." you murmured over his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

the pace was frenetic, both skins colliding and moans mingling in the air. a spanking echoed throughout the room, your sensitive skin soon turned red drawing heeseung's big hand.

he felt like you were stroking him, your pussy clenched by a lot of stimulation. you sat on him again, this time increasing speed and rubbing your clitoris. "you're getting tight..." he said. you kept bouncing over him even though you were already trembling over him. he could tell you were about to cum.

"can i cum?" stared you in the eye. "please, please, can i cum? i need to." he felt your legs squeeze his hips. the hand with which you rubbed your was replaced with his, that’s was his answer. those fingers were nimble and fast, you gushed around him, dripping all over his abdomen and a little from his bed.

you lay on heeseung, resting your head on his shoulder, but the two of you were still connected. heeseung continued on his own when he saw that you were already done, following the same rhythm, but causing his tip to hit your g-spot.

"are you on the pill?" you nodded impatiently. heeseung used his strength to keep your hips still, his pelvis was constantly crashing very hard and fast against your skin, pounding into you. and you who were already sensitive because of your squirt, couldn't stop complaining with incoherent sounds coming out of your weak mouth. "hee... 's too.. much!" you cried out.

finally, he split his seed inside you, and his cock came out of you.

both of you collapsed and remained silent for a few minutes. it took you a while to realize the situation you were in. hugging your stepbrother on his bed, after the best fuck of your life.

you opened your eyes for a moment to see him, he was breathing heavily with his eyes shut. to interrupt the silence and discomfort, you decided to speak. "what am i supposed to do now?" you whispered, but it was quite audible. "don't come back in here if you don't want this to happen again." he said in a tired, raw voice. he sounded fine as fuck.

"and what if i want to repeat this moment?" you get away a little from him to have a better view of his face. he barely opened his eyes and let out a chuckle.

"take note.." he started. "next time it will be in your room."

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”