#so like i get to go through all the guilt and pain again ((((:

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc (4/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : as charles fights for his life, his wife faces the hardest decision: let go or fight for him. a small miracle gives hope for recovery.

୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, angst, fluff ୨ৎ : tws : injury, surgery, medical trauma, emotional distress, guilt, near-death experience, physical pain, anxiety ୨ৎ : wc : 2402

part one | part two | part three | part four

Love is funny, isn’t it? You think you have it all figured out, and then one day, you realize that the love you thought would always be there can sometimes fade into the background. But it doesn’t just fade. No, it burns out, slow and steady, like an ember that’s been left too long. That’s the worst kind of loss—the one you didn’t see coming, the one that happens while you’re still holding on, telling yourself everything will be okay.

You remember when you and Charles first fell in love. The world felt like it was yours, and nothing could get in the way of the connection you had. The world around you blurred into the background, and it was just the two of you. You’d laugh together, make silly promises to each other, the kind of promises that felt forever, like they couldn’t possibly be broken. And in your mind, you believed it. You believed you’d grow old together, that no argument could ever pull you apart. But life has a funny way of surprising you.

The love you shared in the beginning was so full of light. It was easy. It was simple. And somewhere along the way, somewhere between the late-night talks and the quiet moments, you lost that. The arguments crept in. At first, they were small, just misunderstandings, but they grew, louder and sharper, until they couldn’t be ignored anymore. The more Charles drowned himself in the racing world, the more you felt yourself slipping away. But neither of you stopped to listen to what the other needed.

You can’t help but wonder now: If you hadn’t argued so much, if you hadn’t allowed that distance to grow between you, would he be lying in this hospital bed today? Would he still be fighting for his life? Maybe. But then again, maybe not. The thought makes your chest ache with a weight you can’t shake off. You want to believe that everything could have been different, but you don’t know for sure.

---

The steady beep of the monitors is the only thing that keeps you tethered to the present. Charles’s vitals have stabilized since the crash, and you try not to let yourself hope too much, but each small sign of improvement sends a rush of relief through you. You hold onto that hope, even though you know it might be foolish. Every small movement, every little shift in his breathing—each one feels like a promise. A promise that he’s still here.

Pascale’s footsteps break your train of thought. She steps into the room, her face tired, but there’s a quiet strength in her eyes.

“You’re doing everything you can,” she says, her voice gentle, like she’s trying to reassure you that you’re not alone in this. “You’re not to blame for this. The sport… it’s dangerous. We all know that. But Charles loves you. And this—it’s not your fault.”

You swallow hard, your heart heavy with the weight of her words. But they don’t sink in, not completely. You can’t stop the guilt that keeps clawing at your chest. You can’t help but wonder, what if you could have done more? What if you had said something different, done something different? Would he still be here, conscious and fighting? Or would this still be his reality?

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” you admit quietly, your voice shaky, betraying the calm you try to maintain. “I don’t know how to make it right.”

She takes a step closer, her hand finding yours. “You don’t have to,” she says, her tone firm but soft. “Just be there for him. That’s what he needs right now. And when he wakes up… when he’s ready, you’ll figure it out together.”

You nod, not sure if you believe her. But you hold onto her words like a lifeline. Maybe, just maybe, she’s right. But it doesn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful.

---

Hours stretch into what feels like an eternity. The doctors come and go, each update a little less hopeful than the last. Charles is still critical. There’s no telling when he’ll wake up, if he wakes up. And the waiting—waiting without knowing what’s happening to him, if he’s improving or slipping away—feels unbearable.

And then, without warning, his heart rate drops.

The machines beep with a harsh, frantic sound, and the room erupts into chaos. Your body freezes, the air thick with panic. Nurses rush to his side, hands moving quickly, calling out to each other in a language you can’t fully comprehend. You stand there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do. Your mind spins with fear and confusion, and all you can think about is the man lying in front of you, fighting to stay alive.

Charles’s heart rate flatlines.

A scream gets caught in your throat, but it doesn’t escape. You don’t have the strength to let it out. The world feels like it’s spinning, like you’re stuck in a nightmare you can’t wake from. You watch as they work on him—CPR, chest compressions, defibrillation—but none of it seems to matter. It doesn’t feel real. He’s supposed to be okay. He’s supposed to wake up.

But then, just as suddenly as it started, the doctors manage to stabilize him again. His heart rate picks up slowly, steadily, until it’s just enough for you to breathe again.

The doctors exchange glances, unsure how to explain the sudden shift. They weren’t expecting this. They were preparing to pull the plug. Now, it seems he’s fighting back.

But the fear doesn’t dissipate completely. It lingers in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. There’s no telling if this is the end of the battle or just another moment of temporary reprieve. All you can do is wait.

---

Time passes, but it feels like you’re standing still. Charles’s breathing evens out. The monitors beep at a normal rhythm now, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a glimmer of hope.

And then, as though your prayers have been answered, you hear it. A soft groan. His hand twitches in yours.

“Charles?” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

His eyelids flutter, and slowly, his eyes open. The confusion is evident in them. His brow furrows, trying to process everything.

“Y/n?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you can hear the recognition in it. The relief that floods through you makes it hard to breathe. You’re shaking, but you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face.

“Oh my God. Charles… you’re awake.”

His eyes flutter again, blinking as he adjusts to the light. He tries to speak, but it’s a struggle. “What… happened?”

“You were in a crash,” you explain, your heart racing. “But you’re awake. You’re okay. You’re breathing on your own.”

His hand tightens around yours, a weak but determined grip. He doesn’t have to say anything else. You know he’s here. He’s alive. That’s all that matters.

You lean in closer, your voice soft but firm. “You don’t need to say anything right now. Just rest. You’ve been through enough.”

His eyes close again, exhaustion taking over. But this time, it’s different. He’s not slipping away. He’s fighting. And that’s enough for you.

---

It’s been a few days since Charles woke up. His recovery is slow, but every step forward is a victory. The doctors are cautiously optimistic, and his vitals are improving steadily. He’s no longer on a ventilator, and they’ve managed to reduce the pain medications, though he still winces at the sharp pangs in his body when he moves. His face is pale, his body thin, but his eyes—they’re alive. They’re still the same Charles you love.

His hand rests weakly in yours as he shifts in the hospital bed, a small groan escaping his lips. You watch him carefully, knowing he’s still in pain but feeling so much relief that he’s here, breathing, talking, and slowly getting better. It’s surreal how much has changed in just a few days.

You gently press a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering longer than you expect.

“Still hurts?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Everything hurts,” he replies, his voice hoarse from the tubes and the strain, but it’s unmistakably Charles—weak but teasing. “But I’ll live.”

You chuckle, even though your heart still feels heavy with all that’s happened. “You better. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His hand tightens around yours, and for a moment, there’s silence between you two, the hum of machines and the quiet shuffle of footsteps in the hall the only sounds filling the room.

The door opens softly, and Pascale enters, her eyes lighting up when she sees Charles awake.

“You’re really here,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe it.”

“I told you,” he mutters, a weak but determined smile crossing his face. “I don’t give up that easily.”

She chuckles, her relief palpable. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

The doctor enters next, checking his vitals and making small talk about his progress. But after a few minutes, you sense that everyone is trying to give you two some space. You appreciate it more than you can say. You need a moment alone with him, just the two of you.

“Can we talk?” Charles asks suddenly, his voice quieter, the weight of everything pressing down on him. His gaze locks with yours, and you nod.

Once the room clears, you move closer to him, pulling a chair up beside his bed and sitting down, your hand never leaving his.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, his voice soft but full of emotion. “More than I ever thought possible. I was… so afraid. I didn’t know if I’d get another chance.”

Your heart catches at his words, and you squeeze his hand tighter. “You’re here. That’s all that matters now.”

“I know I messed up, Y/n,” he says, his voice trembling slightly as he continues. “The arguments, the distance between us… I didn’t know how to fix it, but I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve done better for us.”

You shake your head, leaning closer to him. “We both messed up. I pushed you away. I let my own fears and doubts take over, and we let the distance grow between us. But we don’t need to dwell on that now. What matters is we have a chance to rebuild. We can start again.”

Charles’ eyes soften as he looks at you. He lifts his free hand and brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers are weak, but his touch is gentle, so tender it makes your heart swell.

“I don’t want to waste another moment,” he whispers. “I want to make it right. For us. I want to give you everything I have. I want us to be… forever.”

You feel a rush of warmth in your chest at his words, and you can’t hold back the tears that sting your eyes. “Charles… I love you. I always have. No matter what happened before, it’s in the past now. We’ll get through this together. We’ll be better.”

He nods, his smile growing as much as his weakened body allows. “Forever,” he repeats, his voice firm. “You and me.”

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his gently, the kiss soft and full of promise. You feel the heat of his lips against yours, the lingering taste of the past and the hope for the future mixing together. It’s everything you need. Everything you’ve always wanted.

After the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, the moment feeling peaceful, intimate, like the world has slowed down just for the two of you.

"I promise I’m never going to leave you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.

“I know,” you whisper back. “And I won’t leave you either. We’re in this together. Forever.”

His breath catches, and you can see how tired he is. His eyes start to close, his body relaxing into the bed. You’re thankful for this moment—this quiet moment of peace between the chaos. It’s all you need for now. His grip tightens one last time around your hand before he drifts off, his breathing steady, but shallow.

As you watch him sleep, your heart swells. There’s so much to be thankful for now. He’s here. He’s alive. And even though he’s still in pain, the fact that he’s awake and breathing on his own, that he can talk and even smile, fills you with a sense of relief you can’t describe.

Time may not have stopped, but you feel like it’s been kind to you in the small ways. And in this moment, with Charles beside you, you’re ready to take on the future. The fights, the love, the challenges—they’re all worth it. Because at the end of the day, it’s you and him. Together.

---

As the days continue, Charles slowly gets stronger. The pain from the crash is still there, but it’s manageable. He’s talking more, eating small meals, and regaining some mobility. He even laughs now and then, the sound a balm to your weary soul.

It’s slow, but progress is progress, and with each passing day, your connection with him grows stronger. The weight of the past seems lighter, and you find yourselves rebuilding, piece by piece, finding new ways to love each other.

You’re not sure what the future holds, but for the first time in a long time, you know you’ll face it together. Whatever happens, you’ve found something worth fighting for.

---

A few weeks later, Charles is finally cleared for a short walk around the hospital floor. It’s a small victory, but it feels huge to both of you. He’s still weak, but he’s standing, with you by his side, helping him steady himself.

“You’ve come so far,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

Charles smiles at you, the kind of smile that makes you feel like you could conquer anything. “I’m not done yet. I still have a lot of living to do. And I want to do it with you.”

You nod, feeling your heart swell as you walk beside him, hand in hand. This journey isn’t over. It’s only just begun.

But for now, you’re both here. You’re together. And that’s enough.

Forever.

taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , @ayap4paya , @prttylight , @meadhbhcavanagh , @iluvnewtie , @hiireadstuff , @armystay89 , @anunstablefangirl , @waytoooobsessedwithlife , @larya810 , @laufeysvalentine (tags closed, story complete)

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

HALLO! :D i saw that requests were open so i figured i'd try my hand with one! (If it's still okay w/ you ofc!)

I wanted to request a lil mini scenario with triple s & a gn! reader, where the two end up being under attack on a mission and reader takes a hit for him, but frets over him and asks if he's okay as if they aren't the one who's bloody/bruised from the attack

Hoping for a lil angst, but also a good ending! Thanks for your time! 😋

A/n: couldnt think of a title for this lol

Sonic:

The air was tense as you and Sonic sprint through the field. Chaos erupted around you, explosions lighting up the horizon. Despite everything, Sonic is as confident as ever, his cocky smirk flashing even under pressure.

"Stick close, got it?" he calls back to you, his voice full of determination.

You nod, staying close to his side as enemies close in. Everything happens too quickly. An attack is launched, a projectile racing toward him, and without thinking, you dive in front of him.

The impact sends you sprawling to the ground, pain shooting through your side. Blood stains your clothes, but your focus isn't on yourself.

"Sonic!" you cry out, scrambling to your feet despite the pain. You reach for him, panic filling your chest. "Are you okay? Did you get hit?"

Sonic is frozen for a moment, his usual bravado wiped away as his gaze locks on your injury. "Y-You're the one bleeding, not me!" He kneels beside you, his hands hovering awkwardly as if afraid to hurt you more.

"I'm fine!" you insist, brushing his concern away. "Are you hurt? You looked like-"

"You're not fine!" he snaps, his voice breaking slightly. "Why would you do something so reckless?!" His usual speed is nothing compared to how quickly he scoops you up, holding you as gently as possible.

"It's no big deal," you mumble, your vision blurring slightly.

"It’s a huge deal," Sonic mutters, guilt heavy in his voice. "I... I should’ve been faster. Don’t scare me like that again, okay?"

He rushes you to safety, refusing to let go until Tails patches you up, his usual confidence replaced by an uneasy tension, even after the mission ends.

Shadow:

The mission had gone sideways faster than either of you expected. You and Shadow were surrounded, energy blasts raining down from all directions. Shadow barked orders, his voice steady and commanding.

"Stay behind me," he muttered, moving in to take the brunt of the attacks.

But when a deadly shot targets him from behind, you don't hesitate. You throw yourself in its path, gritting your teeth as the attack strikes you.

Shadow turns just in time to see you fall to your knees, your face twisted in pain.

"Idiot!" he snaps, rushing to your side. He kneels, his gloved hands gripping your shoulders as he inspects the damage. "What were you thinking?"

"Are you okay?" you ask breathlessly, ignoring his anger as you reach for him. "You're not hurt, right?"

His eyes narrow, his jaw tightening. "You’re bleeding, and you’re asking if I’m okay?"

You offer a smile, trying to downplay the situation. "I couldn’t let you get hurt. You’re more important."

For a moment, Shadow doesn’t say anything, his expression unreadable. Then, with surprising gentleness, he pulls you against him, his arms encircling you protectively.

"You’re reckless, and an absolute idiot." he mutters. "But... thank you."

He carries you to safety without another word, his movements careful, his gaze lingering on you. Later, as you recover, he stays close.

Silver:

You and Silver are deep in enemy territory, fighting side by side. His telekinetic powers are keeping most threats at bay, but it’s clear he’s straining to maintain control.

"Watch out!" he shouts as an attack heads your way.

You don’tSilver, you just act. You shove him aside, the blast hitting you squarely in the chest. The pain is immediate, sharp and searing, but you manage to stay on your feet.

"Are you okay?" you ask, your voice trembling as you turn to him.

Silver’s eyes are wide with horror as he sees the blood staining your outfit. "Am I okay? You just- why would you do that?!" His voice cracks as he grabs your shoulders, his hands shaking.

"You could’ve gotten hurt," you say simply. "I couldn’t let that happen."

Tears well up in his eyes, his expression a mix of guilt and frustration. "But now you’re hurt because of me! I was supposed to protect you!"

"You did your best," you reassure him, your voice soft despite the pain.

Silver shakes his head, his grip tightening. "It’s not enough. You’re too important to me."

His powers flare as he gently lifts you with his telekinesis, cradling you in an invisible embrace. He carries you to safety, murmuring apologies and promises to never let you get hurt again. Afterward, he rarely lets you out of his sight, more determined than ever.

[missdynamighttt]

Hii, I hope you had a very happy holiday and that you are well, I love the way you write! I would like to ask you for something half anguish half soft and whatever you want to add some other thing even if it is spicy.. Something where both the reader and Katsuki are both pro-heroes, The reader tries to take good care of himself during missions and avoids getting hurt so that Katsuki doesn't worry (go crazy about it) But Katsuki doesn't do the same and almost always ends up hurt and worrying the reader and this makes her upset by his lack of reciprocity.. They end up fighting for a moment but end up reconciling. I hope it's not too much to ask, bye, kisses🙏

hi hun!! hope you had a very happy holiday too<333 that means SO much to me, thank you lots!! its not too much at all, i hope this met your expectations and i hope you enjoy it. byeee, kisses <333 (disclaimers: just a little suggestive. if this is my reblog and you scroll to the end, you get an alternative ending with smut. otherwise, the smut version is a wip and i will add a link soon^^)

katsuki was on his bed in the infirmary, covered in bandages and scratches. he had gotten himself injured again during a battle with a villain.

you walked into the room, face filled with anger and concern. you quickly made your way towards his bed and looked at him, obviously frustrated.

"my fucking god, katsuki.."

katsuki looked at you with a mixture of annoyance and guilt. he knew he had upset you by getting injured again this badly but that didn't matter to him.

"what? i'm fine."

you tried to blink back your tears as they threatened to escape, lips curled into a stubborn frown. "you look anything but fine."

katsuki rolled his eyes, still trying to act nonchalant about his injuries. "i've had worse. you know that. i'll heal up in no time."

he huffed slightly as he attempted to shift his position on the bed, causing a small wave of pain to shoot through him, but too stubborn to show you his signs of pain.

"we have the same damn job," you snapped, holding his arm and helping him up. your eyes narrowed, words filled with irritation and worry. but you don't see me acting like a reckless idiot, do you? i may get a few scrapes and bruises, but i don't look like I've just stumbled out of a warzone."

"i'm not acting reckless. 'm just doing my damn job," katsuki grumbled as he grudgingly allowed you to help him. "and besides, you're always avoiding getting hurt. you never take any risks, so it's no fuckin' surprise you don't get hurt."

you widened your eyes at him in disbelief, shaking your head in frustration. "no risk?"

"yeah, no risk. you always play it safe, you never take any chances, you always avoid fighting any shitty villains that might be too damn dangerous..." katsuki trails off, noticing the look on your face and realizing that he might've struck a nerve.

"playing it safe? is that what you assume i do to prioritize my fucking life?" you let out a scoff of disbelief, lips twisting up in a sarcastic smile. "is that what you think I do when I try to protect myself, so that you don't have to add my name to your growing list of worries?"

katsuki's expression softened slightly. he knew deep down that she was right, but he wasn't ready to admit it.

"it's not about that. it's about getting the job done. sometimes that means taking risks."

"excuse you. i get the job done just fine. at least i don't look like i've been trampled on by a hundred fucking bulls."

"yeah, well, at least i'm not afraid to get my hands dirty."

katsuki knew that was a low blow even as he said it, but his pride was too wounded to backtrack now.

your emotions finally breaking through the facade of toughness as you bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

"damn it, katsuki," your voice cracked slightly. "all i'm asking is to keep yourself safe. do you even realize how much it hurts me, seeing you injured over and over again, knowing i can't do anything about it? its like.. you don't care. then you go ahead and insult how i do my job and..."

kasuki's expression softened further as he saw the tears in your eyes. he knew he messed up.

"sweets, i... i didn't mean what i said. you're great, okay? the damn best. i just.. wanna do my damn job. i don't want to hold back and let someone get away with shit because i was being too careful."

you let out a huff of frustration, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"doing your job properly doesn't mean throwing your life away, katsuki. what if something happens again, and.."

your pause as tears welled up your eyes, finally rolling down your cheeks like a waterfall. you tried to wipe them away, movements aggressive as your sniffles growing louder despite the attempts to keep them silent.

katsuki watched as you wiped away your tears, guilt gnawing at him. it was a sight that never failed to clench his heart. he reached out and gently gripped your arm, pulling you closer by the edge of the bed. "hey, c'mon. don't... cry, dammit."

"i'll be fine, i always do," he continued, his voice softer than usual. he crooks his finger to tilt your head up at his gaze. "even if i look like i got trampled on by a hundred fuckin' bulls."

he repeated your words back to you with a small grin. you huffed when you realized he was trying to lighten the mood, giving his arm a gentle nudge as you pouted at him.

"i... i can't lose you. not again, katsuki," you sniffled, lower lip trembling slightly as you kept your emotions in check. "okay?"

katsuki's smirk faded as he heard the raw vulnerability in your voice, the memories flooding his brain back when he almost lost his...

"sweets... i'm not going anywhere, okay?" he repeated, his voice serious now. "i promise." he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.

you huff, calming down in his arms a little as you appreciate the warmth of his embrace and the sound of his steady breathing.

meanwhile, katsuki held you close, feeling your body relax against his. with a sigh, he buries his face in your hair, taking solace in the feeling of your in his arms. he hated seeing you upset, and he hated himself for being the cause of it.

"i'm sorry."

"hmph. you better be."

you sigh as katsuki chuckled slightly, the feeling of your fingers in his hair sending a shiver down his spine.

"i am. i won't be so reckless next time. i'll be more careful, i promise."

"if you don't?"

"if i don't? what, you'll come kick my ass yourself?"

"katsuki."

katsuki takes a deep breath before letting out a long sigh, looking up and his gaze fixed on you.

"if i don't..." he begins, tucking a strand of hair behind your hair. "i just won't. i don't want to put you through that again. i'll keep my word. for you, sweets. okay?"

you nod, your pout giving way to a more relaxed expression as you sank deeper into his embrace. you were a little more relaxed now that he gave you the reassurance you needed. he just needed to recover, and then—

you suddenly felt a slight shiver run through your body as you register the feeling of katsuki's lips on your neck.

katsuki grins when he noticed your slight surprise, continuing to place soft kisses along your neck, pausing occasionally to nibble on your earlobe.

"you worry too much, you know that?" he whispered in between kisses.

"only because i care about you..." you breathe, your voice a little breathless as you leaned into his touch. you really, really couldn't hide the effect his touch had on you.

katsuki's smirk returned as he heard you gasp, the sound sending a wave of heat through his body. he moved his mouth to your jawline, trailing kisses along your skin.

"i know you care about me," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "and as much as i love seein' you get all feisty when you're worried about me... i promise i'll be more careful from now on."

"okay...good," you hum softly as he continued peppering kisses down your body. "glad we.. cleared that up."

katsuki chuckles, his lips still against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "yeah, we did."

you had to bite your bottom lip when he moved his lips, nipping at your collarbone. "and now that we have that settled..."

"there's somethin' else i'd like to do."

your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what he was hinting at, heat spreading across your cheeks. "w-wait—"

katsuki grinned again when he noticed how bashful you were getting. he loved it when he could get you all flustered like this.

"what?" his lips hovering near your ear. "you don't want to?"

you shook your head, your desire warred with concern. there was a part of you that wanted to give in to the moment, but practical senses prevailed. he was still recovering from his injuries, and you weren't about to risk his health for an orgasm.

"i..." you began, voice shaky with a mixture of desire and reluctance. "yes, i want to... but not here. and not while you're still recovering, dammit."

katsuki pouted slightly, clearly disappointed. but as much as he hated to admit it, he knew you were right.

"tch, fine. but don't blame me if i start goin' crazy from recovery boredom."

he paused, a sly smirk appearing on his face. "although... i could think of a few ways you could keep me entertained while i recover."

you tilt your head with a raised eyebrow. "like?"

"well... you could start by just cuddlin' with me while i rest," he teased, his voice low and suggestive, tugging you closer to the bed so that you could cuddle him. "or maybe you could give me a few kisses here and there... you know, to help me heal faster."

"oh?" you smile, scooting over the bed and snuggling up to him. "did the doctor approve of that?"

"doctors are overrated," he says in mock-offense as he wraps an arm around you. "they all say the same things. rest and fluids, blah, blah, blah. where's the fun in that?"

"besides..." he leaned in closer with a grin, his voice dropping to a whisper. "who needs a doctor's approval when i have a beautiful woman like you to take care of me?"

you scoff, nudging his arm softly and roll your eyes, running your fingers through his hair. "as much as i'd love to take care of you, i'm scared we might get caught."

"what, afraid of getting caught in the act?" he asked with a mischievous grin. "come on, it'll be fun."

he could tell you were still reluctant. so, he pulled you even closer, his hands roaming up your hips and resting on your waist, his lips brushing your ear when he spoke. "we'll be discreet, i promise. just a few kisses... no one will ever know."

"i'd rather if you just focus on recovering."

"a few kisses ain't gonna set me back. i'm fine, sweets. i heal fast, remember?"

"then, if you heal fast, i doubt you need me to kiss you, right?"

"you think i can't handle a few kisses, is that it?"

you grin at his pout and shrug. "i think you can't. because then you're going to take it too far."

katsuki rolled his eyes, mock-offended. "i have no idea what you're talkin' about. i'm a saint."

he leaned back against the pillows, narrowing his eyes at your reluctant gaze and giggles. "besides, i'm in no condition to do anything strenuous right now. a few innocent kisses won't hurt."

you huff, exhaling in a soft sigh as your pout deepens. your eyes flicker to his, searching for any kind of reassurance. you didn't want to set back his recovery by going too far but who were you to deny him the kisses he needs? "you promise?"

"a few innocent kisses, that's it. no funny business, no getting carried away," he paused, reaching out to take your hand, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "just a few little kisses to keep me entertained while i recover."

after a moment, you gave in with a sigh, nodding in reluctant agreement.

"fine..." you muttered, your tone a little sulky.

but your gaze flickered to him, your narrowed eyes meeting his with a hint of heat. slowly, you lean in closer, your breath catching in your throat as you prepare to initiate the kiss.

katsuki grins as he tilted his head slightly to meet you halfway, his eyes closing in anticipation.

"that's more like it," he murmured, his voice low and sultry.

katsuki reached up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles along your skin as he closed the distance between your lips.

the moment your lips met his, he let out a soft sigh, wrapping his arms around you as he deepened the kiss. it was slow and gentle, a stark contrast to the usual.. passionate embraces.

but the kiss deepens and katsuki starts to get lost in the moment, you can feel him getting more aggressive and intense. sensing that he's starting to lose control, you give his bicep a gentle but firm squeeze, signaling him to slow down. it acts like an anchor, reminding him to keep his desire in check.

katsuki feels your squeeze on his bicep and realizes that he's getting carried away. he breaks the kiss, panting for air as he tries to regain control of himself.

he looks at you with dilated eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily. "f-fuck.. 'm sorry.. i got carried away..."

you chuckle breathlessly, your own heart racing. you try to reassure him with a soft, affectionate smile on your lips. "it's okay... i liked it."

"damn it. me too. maybe a little too much," he sighs, glancing down at himself and groans at the tent in his pants. "fuck, you're not making this easy. you know how hard it is for an injured pro-hero like me to resist his gorgeous girl? and i'm supposed to be recovering, remember?"

"oh? who insisted on the kisses, smartass?"

"hey, you're the one who agreed to it."

"weirdo," you tease, poking his side gently. "want me to..?"

"huh?" katsuki said, a little confused. when you gestured to his boner, he realizes what you meant. "ah. nah, its fine. it'll go down. i promised no funny business."

he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your shoulder. "i'd rather just cuddle you 'nyway."

you bask in the moment, smiling warmly as you revel in the comfort of the cuddle. his warm, firm body against yours feels like home, and you feel content and complete in his arms.

in that moment, you feel completely content and at peace, as if nothing else in the world matters besides the two of you. you press yourself against him, burying your face into his hair and inhaling his familiar scent, a silent reassurance that he's here, he's real, and he's all yours.

should i reblog this where i make an alternate ending and katsuki does accept.. 😕

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

request: can you do one where she’s breaking and she explodes on her brothers because they are trying to get her to open up but she doesn’t want to seem weak and scared. It’s not like her to yell or be aggressive towards them so they know something is wrong and it ends up in a meltdown.

A/N: Hope you like this! Requests are always open. Thanks!

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

The bunker felt like a suffocating cage, the walls closing in around you with every breath you took. You'd been holding it together for so long—weeks, months, years—but tonight, everything came crashing down. Every ounce of fear, guilt, and exhaustion, the constant strain of keeping up the facade, it all boiled over.

You were barely aware of the words tumbling out of your mouth, raw and jagged, a release of everything you’d been burying deep inside.

“Will you two ever leave me the hell alone?” The words exploded from your chest, jagged and ugly, as if you were trying to slice through the tension in the air. You turned, wild eyes flashing between Sam and Dean, your body shaking with a combination of anger and fear. "I don't need your fucking pity! I don’t need your damn help! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

It wasn’t like you to lash out like this. Dean and Sam both knew that. They had seen you angry, but never like this. This was different. The outburst, the harshness—it was as if all the years of bottling up every fear and every grief were finally coming undone, and they were getting the brunt of it.

Dean took a step back, stunned. Sam’s face mirrored that same shock. They knew you well enough to know this wasn’t you. You never cursed like this. You never screamed. You were the quiet one, the one who kept everything inside, who held it together even when the world felt like it was collapsing around you.

But now? Now you were unhinged, unraveling before their eyes. Your breath came in sharp, jagged gasps, and your fists clenched tight, but you couldn’t control the way your body was shaking.

"Sweetheart, hey," Sam said, his voice soft but filled with concern. "It’s okay. You don't have to keep it inside. If you need to scream, to yell, let it out. It's okay. We're here for you."

But those words—those damn words—just made you angrier. They saw through you. They always did. They knew you were breaking. And it made you furious. The vulnerability, the fear—it made you want to run from it. You wanted to fight it, to scream and shout until it went away, until you could pretend like everything was fine again. But it wasn’t. And it was suffocating.

Dean stepped forward, his voice low, trying to calm the storm inside you. "Let it out, kid," he said, his tone as steady as he could manage. "If that’s what you need, scream, yell, curse—whatever it is. We’ll take it. We can handle it. But you don’t have to bottle it up anymore."

It was too much. You couldn’t keep holding it back. You spun to face Dean, your hands slapping against his chest, frantic, desperate, angry.

“I’m NOT scared, okay? I’m not!” you shouted, your hands slapping his chest again, harder now, as if you were trying to force the words out of your body. "I’m fine! I don’t need you to fix me! I’m fucking fine!”

But it wasn’t true. You were so scared. The fear was clawing at your insides, and no matter how many times you screamed it wasn’t, the truth was still there, boiling beneath the surface.

Dean didn’t flinch. He didn’t get angry. He just... grabbed your wrists. His grip was tight, not painful, but firm enough to stop your slapping. You tried to pull away, to break free, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he held your wrists tightly, his hands steady against your skin, as if he knew you needed something to anchor you.

"Y/N...,” he said softly, the words filled with an understanding you weren’t ready to face, yet it was exactly what you needed. "I know you’re scared. I know you’re trying to fight it, trying to pretend you’re not. But you’re scared, and that’s okay. It’s okay to feel that way."

The words sent a shockwave through you. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that until he said it. But even then, the rage was still there, burning. You didn’t want to be weak. You didn’t want to feel small in front of them.

“I’m not scared, okay?” You repeated, but it came out weaker, shakier. You tried to wrench your wrists free, but Dean’s grip only tightened. He wasn’t letting you go.

“Stop,” he said, his voice a little sharper now, his grip on your wrists unyielding. "You’re not fine. You’re scared, and that’s okay. You’re not alone. You don’t have to hide it."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you pushed them away, frustrated with yourself for even letting them come. "I’m not scared," you tried again, your voice cracking with desperation. "I’m NOT!"

Dean didn’t answer. Instead, his hands slowly moved from your wrists to your shoulders, gently but firmly pulling you toward him. And that’s when it happened—the floodgate opened. You melted against him, your body trembling as the walls you’d built came crashing down.

You let out a strangled sob, and the anger dissolved into fear, into pure, raw terror. Your chest heaved as you collapsed against his chest, trembling uncontrollably.

“I’m so scared, Dean,” you whispered, your voice broken and small. It was the first time you’d admitted it, the first time the truth slipped out. "I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to handle it. I’m scared I won’t be enough. That I’ll lose everyone. That I’ll let you down. That I’ll lose myself."

Dean’s grip on you tightened, and he pulled you closer. His hand moved to the back of your head, gently guiding you into his chest, his chin resting on top of your head.

“I know, kid,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, soft but firm. "I know you’re scared. I know... but you’re not alone. We’ve got you. You’re not gonna lose us. You’re not gonna let anyone down. You’re gonna be okay, Y/N. We’re here. We’re here for you."

The words felt like a lifeline, like you were clinging to the only thing keeping you from sinking. Your tears came harder now, soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you buried your face into his chest. You felt his arms tighten around you, his heartbeat steady beneath you, grounding you, pulling you back from the brink.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally let yourself be vulnerable. You finally let the fear show. And as much as it scared you to break in front of them, to show them that you weren’t invincible, you knew deep down that you didn’t have to be. Because, for the first time in ages, you weren’t alone.

“I’ve got you,” Dean whispered again, his voice low, steady, and filled with a quiet strength that seemed to seep into your bones. “You’re not alone, kid. You don’t have to carry it all on your own. We’re here. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.”

And somehow, in that moment, you believed him.

[always-and-forever-alone]

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Worrying

Remus lupin x gn!reader

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Summary:[reader gets a vision that someone is getting hurt in the whomping willow; they decide that they can't just let someone be hurt so they go to help, only it turns out they are the ones that will be hurt]

TW: [reader gets slightly hurt, blood, slow burn kinda, angst, happy ending, reader is a seer/can see the future, I have dyslexia]

Note: [this was supposed to be a blurb... tell me if i misspelled something or got something wrong]

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Sleep does not come easy, you toss and turn. Thinking of ways to fall asleep faster, but to no avail. Something feels wrong like you are missing something you should know.

Somehow, you fall asleep, but your dream is unsettling; your mind leads you through grass, the night sky is clear, and you make out the whomping willow. The air is cold and uninviting. Something horrible is in the air. Fear of one's self, guilt without strong reason. But has this person that feels, done anything wrong? It's unclear

In the tree, the vision goes. A blurred site, barely making out a man, in pain, screaming. So much weight in the scream, not just physical pain. It's sure to never leave the head of whoever hears it, and unfortunately, the head is yours. It echoes, will it end?

There's more, though, an unidentifiable amount of people are near, feeling sad as if they are losing something or maybe someone. They know this is temporary, but it hurts to see. But what are they seeing? The people changed, but not like the one that screamed. The unwillingness of one is guided by the willingness of some.

The vision weakens as the connection starts to stop; the vision of what the night is to hold slowly leaves.

A piercing scream wakes you. Your eyes snap open. You look around at your dorm mates, all perfectly asleep. This makes you think that there was no scream. But it was so reel feeling. It was kind of hard to depict what dreams were real or just that, a dream. It was so much easier in the day because you can't dream well awake and not be in control.

You look at the time around 4:20 a.m. You try to find reasons you should investigate. You've already lost sleep; what could it hurt? It'd put you at ease when you see that nothing is wrong because surely nothing is wrong. Right?

Getting out of your bed, you grab a jacket and a poison of healing, for if someone is hurt, you will help. You disillusion yourself, quietly creeping down the hall. The paintings are asleep, and you have yet to run into a perfect. The walk seems unusually long, although maybe because you want answers.

Pushing open one of, many doors, open, you slip out into the darkness. The moon provided enough light to see where you were going. Even with a jacket the air was so cold, it was weird connecting that it wasn't winter.

Approaching the whomping willow, you look for a way in. But it's too late. The tree is already swinging at you. You jump out of the way. Running when you see an opening. Without too much though, you go through it.

You hear scratching as if a mouse was running by. A little grossed out by the thought of unkempt animals living here you move forward. The same way the vision went.

Nearing a door, you tentatively push it back. Slowly exposing whatever was inside. But with a sharp bang, the door shut; there was so much force you stumbled back. Making a move to not fall down the stairs you just climbed, and pulling yourself to the boor again, something or someone had been thrown to the boor. There's no way someone didn't get hurt. So wanting to help you move closer to the door.

This time you open the door quickly, sliding inside. You feel like you should be scared right now, but for some reason, it feels so right for you to be here. Although the scene in front of you did scare you. A dog, mouse, deer, and, for Merlin's sake, a werewolf were right in front of you. The mouse makes some sense, but never had you seen a dog in Hogwarts, and maybe a deer, but how did it get in? And a werewolf!

It smells you instantly, no longer interested in whatever was happening before it slowly stocks towards you. The deer threw it by its antlers, but the werewolf was back on its feet fast. The dog started barking as the mouse jumped on its eyes, trying to temporarily blind it. And all I could do was stand there, my face going pale.

With one move, it jumped towards me, the mouse falling with a light thud; you were sure your body was going to follow. But the werewolf barely graced your cheek. Confused, you opened your eyes; the werewolf was changing back; the sun peaked through the wood. Shocked, you see your good friend Remus. As the others in the room misinterpreted your reaction, all you could feel was concern for your friend.

And like that you fainted.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

You open your eyes and take in your surroundings. Confusion fills you as you try to piece together your situation. You're in the hospital wing. Memories begin to resurface. You recall the vision, the chaos with the whomping willow, and the fact that Remus is a werewolf.

Seeing Sirius and James, there helping up Remus, and Peter is carrying what I assume is Remus's stuff. You quickly stand up and move toward them. You feel like you need to apologize for putting Remus in that situation. But James starts guiding him away, James signals for Sirius to talk to you. With Sirius now standing in your way. You call Remus's name but he just puts his head down and keeps moving forward a little faster now.

"Look, you can't tell anyone, I'm sorry you got hurt. But it's not his fault, he isn't him when he's like that." Sirius says, a little mad as if you've already told. You move your hand to your cheek after he mentions you being hurt. It's gone, leaving what feels like a scar "Of course, I wouldn't tell anyone. Why would I even do that? It's not my life," Sirius looks at you for a moment and seems to relax, but not much.

With that, he starts walking off. "Wait! Can I talk with him," you reach for his hand, he slips it out before you can reach it. "It's best if you don't; Remus doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially not someone like you," he starts moving away, "What does that mean?" But he doesn't stop, leaving you behind.

Miss Pomfrey, now realizing you are awake walks over to you. "Dear, do you feel good enough to leave. Evening is healed. You fainted from shock" I look at her and nod. "Ok dear"

You get your stuff and leave; what will you tell people when they ask about the scar? Probably something about being clumsy.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

For the next two weeks, you tried talking to Remus, even sending him letters. He got them but was so ashamed of himself and feeling like a monster he didn't read them. Sirius told him that you were not going to tell, but Sirius didn't say much else; he offered that I should talk to you, but what if you hate me? Even when he reassures me that you don't hate me. How would he know?

I didn't throw away the letters, though; they just kept piling up on my bedside table.

Sirius and James said that if I don't want to talk to you then they'll support it, but I know they want me to talk to you. How could I, I hurt you.

You had tried many ways to get a chance to talk to Remus, but someone you were once close with was now ignoring you. While you weren't friends with the other Marauders, you hoped that one day you would be. It felt as though they hated you. What could you do...

Your other friends started to notice that something was wrong; you seemed a little more gloomy and often stared off into space, lost in deep thought. When you weren't doing that, you were writing. Normally, they would assume it was schoolwork, but you had such a pained expression on your face.

It was only when they saw the marauders looking out at you, or more like just Remus. At first, maybe it was an accident or just so happened to be where his eyes landed, but then a second and a third, and a fourth time. He had the same look as you. Guilt. There was something there.

One evening, your friends had dragged you down to dinner; you stared at your food, picking at it, but not eating it. You heard a sigh; looking up, you saw a disappointed friend. You're disappointed friend. "You know food is for eating, not for playing with," she finally says. You are about to reply when it hits you: a brilliant idea. You gasp, "what day Is it" you ask looking to see if You can see it anywhere.

"Are you alright?" concern replacing the disappointment, "no im not, what day is it!" You ask, packing your things, your friend answers hesitantly. Just like you thought, it was the full moon.

You run to your room, get ready, grab some food and a good book, and then sneak to the hostel wing. He'll have no choice but to see you there when he gets back in the morning. So there you were in the hospital wing. Madam Pamfry doesn't try to get you to leave; she could tell you need to be here more than sleep. So you waited, you had grabbed a book to read but you were far to nervous now.

Just 20 minutes after sunrise, Remus was pulled into the hospital wing. The boys were too busy to see you; madam told them to leave so she could treat him. When she was done you quickly went over to him, hidden by the curtains, you asked Madame Pamfry to make sure the boys wouldn't introduced and then thanked her.

Just as she left, Remus started to wake. He seemed so peaceful for a second. Before realizing why he was there and what he was. And then he saw you. "We need to talk," you whisper. "Yeah," he mutters. "I'm sorry-" you start, but he also says 'I'm sorry' which is why you stop; we both look up, and you smile lightly, but he does not. With a sigh he says "You go first" You nod your smile falling, I start, "I'm sorry I put you in that position, and I'm sorry I messed up our relationship, and I get if you no longer want to be friends, this will be my last attempt to talk to you If you wish I'll leave" and somehow he looks even more hurt.

"No. Of course, I still want to be your friend, I thought... I thought you hated me and considered me a monster." You can't help but laugh at the exhaustion you could not have gone through if this had just not happened. "Well, now we know that we're both wrong," you add. "Never thought I'd be happy about being wrong." he smiles this time; you agree.

"I was worried," you say, getting it off your chest. "You were?" He asked, surprised, "Yeah".

"This is going to make everything so much more complicated, but can I kiss you?" Completely caught off guard, you look up into his eyes and then quickly glance down at the ground. "Yes," you whisper. He reaches out and pulls you in; his lips are soft and hesitant, but you can feel him smile into the kiss. Behind you, you hear Sirius say, "Finally."

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Hoped you liked it :>

[justaparsec94]

Wounded

Summary: In the aftermath of Tantiss Hunter pays a visit to Pabu's resident healer to help him deal with his battle wounds.

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,798

Author's Note: This is just pure, pointless fluff.

*****************

In general, Hunter did whatever was within his power to avoid medbays and med droids. Truthfully, anything and everything medical-related. It was, in his mind, a likely byproduct of growing up in a laboratory and essentially spending most of his life being poked, prodded, and scanned. You name it it had likely happened to Hunter and his brothers. Once he had been released from Kamino he had adopted the mentality that there wasn’t anything some bacta spray and a self-applied bandage couldn’t fix. The only way someone would get him anywhere near a medbay was if he was unconscious and physically couldn’t have anything to say about it. 

He learned rather quickly though, that the people of Pabu had a different outlook when it came to looking after oneself. They actually cared. Not only that, but they were careful about taking care of one another. No unnecessary scans or blood draws. Just basic sentient kindness. It was a foreign concept to him and despite knowing that no one on the island would intentionally hurt him or anyone for that matter, he still avoided their medical clinic at all cost. 

A decision that he was questioning currently, as a stabbing pain shot through his side as he lifted the other end of a mattress. An involuntary groan left him and the end of the mattress dipped, his head swam as the pain reached an almost unbearable level.  He tried to take a deep breath to clear his head but that only made the pain worse, his hands slipped off the mattress and the loud thump that resulted caused every pair of eyes in the house to turn his way.

“Hunter?” Omega asked, voice filled with concern.

At the same time, Phee placed the box she had been carrying down, “You ok there, Hunter?” 

“Fine,” He managed to reply though it came out more of a wheeze. His skin was crawling at all the unwanted attention but it seemed the pain in his side wasn’t going to be ignored in that moment. No matter how much he wanted to pretend it was fine and continue on with the task at hand. 

They’d only returned from Tantiss a few days prior, but each day had seemed busier than the last. Between getting the other clones and children settled, trying to coordinate with Rex, and moving into the house that Shep and Phee had given them there had barely been any time for Hunter to rest, despite that being what he really wanted most of all. They’d all sustained injuries on the mission, but Hunter had felt that as the least injured, he could take over doing everything his brothers shouldn’t be doing at the moment, like moving a mattress with Shep.  

A scoff from the corner of the room drew his attention, Crosshair was sitting on a stool, his usual stony expression on his face and arms crossed over his chest. The lack of a hand was still jarring to Hunter and filled him with guilt each time. 

“He’s just pretending he’s fine, like usual,” He said, tone filled with less malice than was typical for Crosshair, but still incredibly snide. They might have made a lot of strides but the two of them still had a long way to go in repairing their relationship. 

“What’s wrong, Hunter?” Omega asked, putting down her own box and coming over to him. They didn’t have many possessions, especially since what they did have had gone up in flames or sunk to the bottom of the ocean with The Marauder, but Shep and Phee had very generously rounded up donations so that their new house would feel more like a home. It wasn’t much and it was mostly furniture but after a lifetime of having nothing, it meant a lot to them all. 

“Nothing,” He said again, this time his voice came out stronger. The pain subsided somewhat now that he was no longer lifting a heavy object. 

“You sure?” Wrecker asked, crowding into the space, “I can help Shep with this if yah need a break.” Wrecker was in even less shape than Hunter, he’d been so badly injured during the mission that it was a miracle he was even moving around only a few days later. 

“I’m fine,” Hunter snapped, uncomfortable with all of the attention that was currently on him. He didn’t want or need them to worry about him. 

“It’s his ribs,” Crosshair said cooly, which caused Hunter to curse internally. Nothing ever got past the sharpshooter. 

“I’ll get AZI!” Omega said, turning quickly to make her way out of the small house but Hunter caught her gently by the arm. 

“It’s fine, Omega,” he repeated as she looked up at him in confusion, “I don’t need AZI. It’s just a twinge.”

Crosshair scoffed in the corner again but Hunter pointedly ignored him as Omega continued to look at him with wide, concerned eyes. The expression was almost enough to make him actually consider seeking some form of medical treatment from the droid. Almost.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“Positive,” Hunter said, letting go of her arm to pat her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. She gave him another long, scrutinizing look that she seemed to have inherited directly from Crosshair before she picked up her box once more and carried it toward the room that would be her own. Wrecker gave Hunter a long, knowing look before he followed after her, keen to help her re-create the space she had lost on The Marauder. 

“Why don’t you help me with this Phee?” Shep asked, clearly ignoring Hunter’s protests that he was actually fine and capable of moving furniture. 

“Sure thing, take a break boys!” Phee said cheerfully. She gently pushed Hunter out of the way but turned to look at him before picking up his dropped end. 

“If you’re so against seeing AZI, you should go see Y/N, I’m sure she could help you out,” Phee suggested with a look in her eyes that Hunter decidedly did not like the look of. Despite his best efforts, he felt his face flush at her suggestion. The last thing he wanted to do was have the most beautiful woman on the island know his problems. 

You had been one of the first people outside of Shep, Lyana, and Phee that he’d met on the island. You were one of the island’s resident healers, unofficially, according to Phee to be the best. He’d met you in the aftermath of the tsunami, tending to those injured in the scramble to safety. The crowd had parted as he had been carrying supplies and it had been like one of those moments straight out of one of the horrible holo films Wrecker and Omega liked to watch. You had been all he’d been able to see. And then later when you’d asked him if he was injured with a warm smile and kind eyes he’d been instantly smitten, which up until that point had been a completely foreign feeling to him. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t think you were capable, you were, even Tech had commented on more than one occasion how ‘proficient’ your skills as a healer were. But it seemed that any time you were around he was only able to say something stupid, or worse, nothing at all. He’d never been very good at dealing with emotions, his own or others, another byproduct of his upbringing, so his feelings for you, whatever they may be, were completely foreign to him. It seemed though, judging by the knowing smirk on Phee’s face that they were not unknown to her. 

“Her bedside manner is a whole heck of a lot better than AZI’s,” Phee said lightly, eyes dancing with amusement, “She’s got some good tricks up her sleeve. I’m sure she’d be able to whip up something to give you some relief.” 

Hunter was about to protest, brush it off as nothing once again but Phee stopped him, her expression turning serious as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Seriously, Hunter. You don’t need to suffer anymore.”

“It’s in his nature,” Crosshair chimed from his spot in the corner, “Always the martyr.”

“Look who's talking,” Hunter snapped, glaring over at his younger brother who only smirked back over at him, “But fine, I’ll go,” Mostly just to get them to stop bothering him. 

“She’s not in clinic today so check over at her house,” Phee answered before she turned to help Shep carry the long-forgotten mattress, “She’s always happy to have people make a house call.”

Hunter wasn’t so sure about that but it seemed no one was going to let him keep pretending to be ok. He sighed, the pain in his side flaring and causing him to groan softly. Well, he thought as he made his way out of their small home, might as well get it over with sooner rather than later. 

*

Your house was small but well-maintained and looked just like every other house on Pabu, with the exception of a variety of potted plants and flowers lining the front and doorway. Sea glass wind chimes hung beside the door and tinkled softly in the gentle breeze. He briefly wondered if Omega would like some for their house. Maybe potted flowers too? Did that count as decorating? He wondered as he reached up to softly knock on the front door. 

There was no answer after a long, silent moment and with his heightened senses he couldn’t hear any movement within the house. He frowned, it looked like you weren’t home. He stared at the closed door for a moment, considering his options. He wasn’t sure if it would be better to just wait and risk looking like a creep or leave and try again later. 

Before he could even make that decision he turned suddenly, picking up on another presence moments before a figure stepped around the side of the building. You stopped short at the sight of him, eyebrows shot up in surprise and he watched as your head tilted slightly as you took the sight of him in. He took the same moment to look at you, your hair was wet, piled onto your head messily and you were carrying a large board, like the ones he often saw people riding waves in the ocean on. He was pretty sure Tech had said it was called surfing. 

Your momentary shock seemed to wear off and your gaze turned warm as it swept over him from head to toe. He felt your look like a physical weight against his body and he did his best to remain loose and not tense. His senses suddenly seemed to be heading towards overload for no reason he could discern. Maybe all that torture and the hit to the head had done more damage than he had thought. 

“Hey, Hunter,” You greeted warmly before you turned and placed the board up against the house on a small stand he hadn’t noticed before. Oblivious to his internal struggles you turned back towards him, smile somehow even brighter than before, “To what do I owe this pleasant visit?”

“Uh…” He started then coughed, he could feel his face heating at his inability to speak like a normally functioning human being. He didn’t know what in the galaxy was wrong with him, “Phee sent me. She said you might be able to help me out… with some pain.”

A look of understanding dawned on your face and you nodded, suddenly all business, “Of course, come on in,” you gestured towards the front door before moving towards it. He followed after you, trying to keep a respectful distance. 

“Don’t mind the mess,” You replied airly as he followed you further into the house, “I haven’t cleaned in a bit.” 

Hunter couldn’t help but think this was the cleanest home he’d ever been in, it was warm, bright, and inviting. Exactly the type of place he hoped they could make out of their own for Omega’s sake. Most importantly, it didn’t smell like a dirty barrack, so that alone made it the nicest place he’d ever been. 

He followed you into a little room that had been made up into what looked like an examination room rather than a bedroom. He paused at the threshold of the room as the same uncomfortable feeling he always got when it came to medical treatments crept up his neck. 

“I’m sorry it’s not a state-of-the-art medbay, but it does the trick,” You said as you gestured towards the small padded examination table in the centre of the room. You turned back to look at him when he remained silent, slight concern visible in the depths of your eyes, “We can go up to the clinic if you’d be more comfortable with that, though.”

“No,” Hunter replied quickly, face flushing. Even though the medical clinic on Pabu was nothing like a medical facility on Kamino, he still had no desire to go to it. 

“Alright,” You said with a soft nod, clearly noticing his discomfort but thankfully ignoring it, “What can I help you with, Hunter?”

Even to a relative stranger, it was hard for him to admit that he was suffering. His entire body ached worse than it ever had before, had since the moment he’d woken up in Hemlock’s lab. He’d taken a lot of bad hits in his years but the blast from the shuttle that had blown him off his feet and caused part of the roof to collapse on him had done a number. Everything still hurt, but his ribs hurt worst of all “It’s just my ribs. It’s uncomfortable but not too bad.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly seeing straight through his lie, “I’ll need you to take off your kit so I can take a better look,” You said as you eyed his armour.

Hunter cursed internally, he was now definitely regretting not putting on the clothes Shep had given him. He hadn’t felt comfortable removing his armour just yet, old habits died hard, he supposed but a simple tunic would have made this station a lot easier and less time-consuming. 

You had turned away from him, likely to give him some sense of privacy as he went to work removing the top half of his armour and undersuit. He set his gear aside on the chair in the room neatly before he hauled himself up onto the table, stifling a groan at the pain that laced through him with the movement.

Hearing he was done you turned back around to look at him, approaching the table slowly as though not to spook him. He had to hand it to you, if you were surprised by his state you didn’t let it show. You were pure professionalism as you approached him, eyes taking in the mottling of his skin before your gaze met his. He felt himself tense slightly at your proximity, at this distance, he could see the exact colour of your eyes, and the usual incoherent thoughts he always seemed to get when you were around clouded his mind. 

There was a small smirk on your face as you looked at him and your eyebrow was cocked once more at him as you spoke, “Not too bad, hmm?” 

A small chuckle escaped him before he could stop it and he felt his neck warm once more at being called out, “Well, I’ve had worse…” 

“I don’t doubt that,” You said softly, eyes were warm as you looked at him for a moment. You smelt like the sea combined with something warm and citrusy that he couldn’t name. It was wonderful and with such little distance between the two of you, it was difficult for him to focus on anything else. 

He flinched slightly as your hand gently rested against his left side, pain but also something else entirely shot through him with your touch. He tried to focus on you as you spoke instead of the way his skin was tingling under your touch, “Take a deep breath for me.”

He did as he was told, wincing slightly at the pain it caused. You made a quiet humming noise before your hand moved around towards his back, “Deep breath again.”

You had him repeat that multiple times on each side before you stepped back to get a better look at his face, “Didn’t AZI give you bacta for this? I don’t need my medscanner to tell you’ve got broken ribs.”

He felt his face flush as he spoke, “I uh, told him to save it. We don’t have a lot and my brothers needed it more than I did.” 

Instead of scorn or judgement though, the look you gave him was soft and full of understanding, “I’m sure we can get some more, there’s lots of people on this island who will likely need it at some point. You don’t have to suffer, Hunter.”

The uncomfortable feeling that had been following him around for days was crawling its way back up his throat. He wanted to tell you that he did, that after everything he had failed to do a bit of suffering was the least he deserved. The words almost made their way out before he stopped them and instead, he gave a half-hearted shrug that hurt his ribs, “It’s really not that bad.”

The look you gave him was so knowing that it made his skin crawl. It was like you could see the thoughts currently in his head, but you didn’t push, you simply sighed, “Alright, I know when to admit defeat,” You gave him a soft smile and your hand gently patted his knee once before you turned and made your way to the counter against one wall.

He watched you as you moved methodically, pulling things out of cupboards, and mixing things together. It didn’t take you long to do whatever it was you were doing and when you turned back around you had a small bag of powder in one hand and a jar of what looked like green paste in the other. 

You smiled softly at what he knew was likely a look of skepticism on his face. He knew there was more than one way to heal injuries, that fancy medbays, droids, and bacta weren’t the only things in the galaxy with healing properties but a lifetime of Kaminoan treatment did make him wonder just how effective whatever you had would be. 

“Like I said before, my first recommendation is actually to take the Bacta,” You said as you stopped in front of him once more, “But since I’m assuming that will not happen, you can try this instead.” 

You held up the small bag of powder in your hand first, “Drink a tablespoon of this two times a day, morning and night. My professional tip is to add it to hot tea, it helps with the taste,” You then held up the jar, “And rub this on to your ribs two to three times a day. I’ve adjusted the doses a bit, I’m not exactly sure if it’ll have the same effects as normal given your faster-than-average clone metabolism, but I think it should give you some relief,” You set the bag of powder down beside him on the table as you opened the jar. She put a small amount of her fingers, gesturing towards his ribs with it to let your intentions known. 

He nodded and then his breath caught at the tingling sensation that occurred as you rubbed the salve over his bruised torso,  “And lastly, but most importantly, rest. No heavy lifting, no twisting, no saving civilians. Rest,” You said gently as your hand pulled away from him once the salve was completely rubbed in. He felt his eyes widen at the cooling sensation that suddenly spread beneath where you had applied the salve, it was the first bit of relief he had felt in days. 

“Come back in a few days to see me, I’ll recheck them and if you’re still having pain we can maybe try something else,” You said as you replaced the lid on the salve and put it down beside the bag of powder. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed the top of his blacks and gently pulled it back on over his head. His ribs were still painful but the cooling sensation from the salve was helping a bit. Once it was in place he looked at you again, “What do I owe you?”

You looked momentarily surprised, “You don’t owe me anything Hunter.” 

“I can’t just take this from you and you took the time to see me on your day off,” He protested as the uncomfortable feeling returned. They didn’t have any credits, what they had had from Omega and Crosshair’s gambling adventure had been on The Marauder. He was certain he could find some way to pay everyone back eventually though. He hadn’t quite figured that out yet, but he would.

You shook her head, “No, I don’t do this to make credits, Hunter. I do it to help others. And the lack of excitement on this island means pretty much every day is my day off,” Your gaze was soft and sincere as you looked at him, “Plus, Phee sent you so you automatically get the friends and family discount.” 

He was still hesitant, it was hard to trust the generosity of others. Especially after having spent so long working for Cid and seeing how many in the galaxy operated,  “What’s the friends and family discount?”

“Free,” You replied brightly, patting his knee once more before you retreated, cleaning up the supplies you had left on the counter. He watched you for a moment but when it was clear you would not be changing your mind he sighed and went about putting the top half of his armour back on. 

Hunter was silent as you walked him back towards the front door, he didn’t know what to say, or really how to thank you for helping him but you didn’t seem to be bothered by his silence. You stopped at the door, turning towards him with another bright and warm smile on your face that made his heart rate pick up at an alarming rate. 

“Take it easy, Hunter,” You said gently before your eyes narrowed playfully, “I mean it, rest.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He finally managed to say. Which only made his face flush more, because that was a dumb thing to say. He technically wasn’t a soldier talking to a civilian anymore, and ma’am just sounded old. 

You chuckled softly but before he could do anything else to make a fool of himself he made his way out of your house, looking back once with a wave before he disappeared from sight. He sighed as he walked, now he just needed to figure out how to actually rest. 

*

“New outfit! I like it,” You said with a bright smile as you pushed open your front door. For the second time that week Hunter had found himself standing outside of your house in the early morning only to have you appear moments later with a surfboard in hand. 

“Uh, yeah,” Hunter replied because once again his brain didn’t seem to be able to keep up with the rest of him. He rubbed at the back of his neck as you shut the door behind him before turning to smile at him once more. It had been hard for him to shed his armour, even though he had to admit that no longer having hard plastoid rubbing against his side made a big difference to the pain in his ribs. The simple tunic and pants that Shep had given him felt odd, but he guessed that eventually he’d get used to it. 

“A bit more practical for island life,” You said as you led him towards the medical room, “I could imagine it would be a bit more comfortable too.”

Hunter shrugged, “I was pretty used to the armour,” 

You paused for a moment, seemingly considering his words, “Well, it looks good and your ribs probably thank you.”

He felt his face heat at the looks good comment. He wasn’t unused to attention, but coming from you it felt completely different. Other than a quick night here and there he’d never really had the chance to even think about beyond a simple attraction, never mind anything that even somewhat resembled a relationship. But now, on Pabu with no more battles to fight, the rest of his life stretched out before him, he would be lying if he hadn’t thought about more with greater frequency lately. If your smile had been filling his dreams lately, well, that he would keep to himself. 

“How are they feeling?” You asked, clearly unaware of what your comment had done to him. 

“Better,” Hunter replied, which this time, was not a lie, “You might be a miracle worker,” His ribs, while not fully healed, felt so much better than they had before. The salve and tea had done wonders, he almost felt normal again. Or at the very least like he could get back to carrying things. 

You smiled at him but the sheepish nature of it had him raising his brow questioningly, “Well, I don’t know about miracle worker. It was probably the rest. I roped Omega, Shep, and Phee into making sure you took it easy.”

Their sudden increase in concern and pestering despite him denying any need for help suddenly made a lot more sense. He frowned at you, “I knew that was suspicious.” 

You laughed which did something to him, “I’ll gladly take the credit though. Can I take a look?”

Still reeling from the sound of your laughter he nodded, pulling the tunic off quickly as his face heated once again. You were once again nothing but professional as you examined him, having him repeat the same deep breaths you had early in the week. Meanwhile, he had to count back from 100 to try and keep his mind off of the feeling of your hands on him. 

As your hands ghosted over a particular spot on his ribs he couldn’t help but flinch, a quick hiss of air escaping his lips before he could stop it. 

You froze, hand hovering over his skin as you looked up at him with concern. You were so close that he could see every fleck of colour in your eyes, could hear your heart beating, strong and steady in your chest. Your scent was nearly overwhelming, and he wanted desperately at that moment to close the distance between the two of you.

“Pain?” You asked, breaking him from his thoughts. 

He shook his head, “Cold.” 

“Sorry, it was a pretty chilly swim this morning,” You answered with a shy smile before you placed your hand back on him. He shivered at the contact while trying to remind himself that this was a professional setting and that kissing you would be decidedly unprofessional.  

“It’s ok,” Hunter said, and then because apparently his mouth wasn’t on the same page as his mind, “I don’t mind, feels good actually.” 

At this distance, he didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed slightly or the way your heart rate picked up a notch. It was thrilling, he thought, to know he had at least some effect on you. 

You continued your examination quietly for another moment before you stepped back. An impressed look on your face as you did so, “It’s really incredible how fast you guys heal. You look so much better.”

Another byproduct, with their advanced aging it meant their cells regenerated much faster than average. Quicker maturity and healing with the cost of half the lifespan. 

“Do you still have some of the tea and salve left?” You asked as he pulled his shirt back on. 

“Yeah, about half I would say,” Hunter replied, “It really did seem to make a difference.”

“They both contain a natural painkiller that we’re able to grow here on the island. It’s the main ingredient in bacta, actually," You answered, “I’d keep up with the tea and the salve for the rest of the week. And keep resting, it looks like you’ll be ok in a few days but take it easy. I don’t want you back here because you’ve re-injured yourself. Not that I mind your company, but I’d prefer these visits to be on a non-professional basis.”

Hunter sighed, not liking the idea of staying idle when there was still a lot to be done. He needed to help Rex, the other clones, and never mind the whole house situation. But he wasn’t so stubborn that he couldn’t listen to medical advice, especially not when it actually was making a difference. He followed after you out into your living room, resigned to his fate. His mind however was turning over your last comment, you actually liked his company. Which was, admittedly surprising since he couldn’t seem to string more than a few words together anytime he was around you. 

He paused near your door, his gaze casting around your warm and bright space, a conversation he’d had with Omega earlier suddenly at the forefront of his mind, “Your home is very nicely decorated,” The words felt awkward coming out of his mouth and he instantly cringed. But if you thought he was weird you made no indication of it. 

Instead, you simply smiled at him brightly, “Thank you.” 

“Do you… have any tips? For, uh - decorating?” He asked, his voice stilted as his face began to heat up. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he forged on, “Omega wants to decorate our home and uh… I don’t really know…how?”

Your gaze was so warm that it didn’t help the fluttering in his chest. Your look was completely judgment-free despite it being honestly a ridiculous question, “Well, I don’t really know if I have any tips… I just pick things that speak to me.”

He stared at you blankly, “Speak to you…”

You laughed, the sound once again making him feel as if he were having a mini-heart attack, “Sorry, I guess that does sound pretty silly, but here-” you said as you walked towards one of the tapestries you had hanging on the wall behind your couch. You looked at him for a moment with an easy smile before you gestured to it, “What do you see when you look at this?”

“Uh…” He started then stopped, looking between you and the tapestry, “Blue?”

You laughed again and he was surprised at the soft bark of laughter that escaped him too, it really was ridiculous, “Ok, maybe I started off with too hard of a question” You said, continuing with a soft chuckle. He watched you closely as you turned your head back to look at it, a wistful expression overtaking your face, “When I look at it, the colours remind me of the ocean. The very first time I saw it I had the same feeling I get when I look out at the sea and I decided I wanted to get that feeling even when I’m in my home.” 

He looked back at the tapestry and its multiple shades of blues and whites woven together, it was quite nice. And the longer he looked at it he supposed he could see how the colours were similar to the ocean, “Oh, uh, yah.”

“Did you ever have posters up in your barracks or ship? Or see art or a picture that maybe you feel something?” You asked, amusement colouring your face. 

A wave of embarrassment rushed through him, “Well yah, but uh - I don’t think that’s very appropriate for a house with a kid in it.” The scantily clad picture of Senator Amidala that had once adorned the nose of The Marauder before General Skywalker got wind of it was the first thing that came to mind. 

You chuckled, “Ok, yes, maybe not like that. But obviously, there was something about those posters that you liked... some sort of feeling you got when you looked at them…”

“Arousal?” He teased before he could stop himself. He immediately felt embarrassed by his inability to keep his mouth shut but it seemed he didn’t need to worry about that. 

Your head tipped back as you laughed and your hand came up to rest on his arm, as if to steady yourself while you did so. A small thrill rushed through him at the sound. It had been a long time since he had made someone other than Omega laugh like that. 

“I walked right into that answer,” You said once your laughter had died down, “Let me correct myself, we’re looking for a different emotion.. happy, calm, peace, joy… something along those lines.”

“This all sounds a lot more difficult than I was expecting,” Hunter replied with a gruff chuckle. 

You laughed again as you squeezed his bicep gently, “Try not to overthink it, when you know, you’ll know.” 

“Sure…” He said, though what he wanted to say was that it all sounded like a load of poodoo to him. 

Clearly, his skepticism was showing because you chuckled again as your hand moved from his arm, “How about this, every few months we host a market on the island where all the bakers, crafters, makers, artists, anyone and everyone get together to trade and sell their wears. It’s in a few weeks, how about we go, you bring Omega, and maybe the three of us can find some things that speak to you?” 

“Ok,” Hunter agreed before he even fully processed what you had proposed. 

“Great,” You said with another beaming smile, “It’s a date.” 

Hunter felt everything inside of him freeze, his brain short-circuiting, “It’s a date,” He found himself repeating so quickly that embarrassment coloured his face. 

Your answering smile was worth every painful moment he’d ever experienced in his short life as the two of you walked towards the front door. You leaned casually against the door frame once Hunter had passed through, arms crossed over your chest, expression warm, “Great. See you later, Hunter. And remember, take care of those ribs.” 

He nodded, not trusting himself to say something else ridiculous before he left, giving you a quick wave over his shoulder as he headed back up the hill toward his own home. 

He still might not like medical treatment or know anything about decorating. But he had a much better idea of what spoke to him. Now, he just had to figure out what one actually did on a real date. 

[silvercap]

for the drabble game, can I get a 12? any whumpee any scenario :D

- @seth-whumps

Absolutely!

12. "Everything's okay, go back to sleep."

Leon rises back to consciousness to finds himself floating in a cold, dark ocean of agony, every bone in his body throbbing despite the soft surface gently cradling him. He can feel varying pressures across his skin, as if he's encased in heavy boulders in some spots and draped in delicate cloth in others. His head pulses with aching pain that radiates all the way down to his hips and back, paralyzing him and forcing him to breathe shallowly through his mouth. The air is dry and stale, sharp against his throat, as if ragged claws have torn through the soft flesh when he wasn't looking and left him gasping.

Faint sounds filter in as Leon slowly grows closer to the membrane between sleep and waking, distant voices speaking in hushed, sombre tones like the kind Leon would expect to find at a funeral. The thought bothers him, makes worry flicker through his chest, a faint frown pulling at Leon's brows as he forces himself to focus on the sound. The voices come in snatches, disjointed and lost at times under random beeps and clicks from the room around him.

"How is he?" Leon hears, the person's voice soft and familiar.

"Stable." That's Piers, the epiphany providing sudden clarity. Leon knows that voice like the back of his hand. Piers sounds upset, almost hollow with emotion, prompting Leon to try and pry open his gluey eyelids---only to be met with a dull, staticky gray expanse that takes a long moment to be recognizable in the shadows. A ceiling? "The surgeries went well, but they're worried about his lungs. Right now they just want to let him rest and get ahead of the pain."

Who are they talking about? A wave of exhaustion distracts Leon from the conversation, an attempt to shift his body again making him aware of the weights and random tendrils wrapped around him to keep him immobile. There's a pull in his elbow that reminds him of being in the hospital, another valiant attempt to flicker open his eyelids stopped by the fuzzy heaviness pulsing through his arteries. He's practically swimming in it, held aloft from the soupy pull of sleep only by the pillow beneath his head.

"---sorry," the first voice is saying when Leon tunes in again, wracked with guilt. "If only I had---"

"Don't, Chris." That's a third voice, also one of Leon's friends---or at least he thinks so. This time, his eyes allow themselves to stay partially opened when he pushes past the bleariness, revealing the dim ceiling of whatever room he's in, dappled in spots with faint pools of fluorescent white. Leon frowns. Why are his friends gathered in this strange, quiet room together? More importantly, why can't he seem to figure out what he's doing here?

"Jill---"

"You can't blame yourself." Piers again, this time tinged with anger. "He's so.... so stubborn, you never could have changed his mind. Retreat wasn't an option with civilians in harm's way."

He sounds worried, Leon thinks, fighting the insistent droop of his eyelids to glance to the left. Moving his head even slightly makes something shift on his face, keenly aware of the edge of whatever it is digging into his cheek. He tries to make a sound, call out and ask what's going on, but his voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper.

"Do they know how long it'll take for him to wake up?"

"Not really. He's been sedated pretty good, from what they've told me, at least until they reassess tomorrow. Hopefully soon, but with the---the head trauma, it's hard to say how coherent---"

Leon coughs, the sound hoarse, and the voices cut off in an instant. He tries to sit up, see where they've gone, but he can't move his arms at all, a faint sound of choked pain slipping from his mouth even though he can't really feel anything anymore. Something is slowly dragging him away from reality, and it's all Leon can do to struggle against the increasing strength of the current. A shadow appears in front of him, the vague shape of a person.

"Leon?" Piers murmurs softly, the ridged expanse of his scarred face cast in chiaroscuro by the glow of something beside Leon's bed. He looks concerned, scared, and Leon makes a faint sound of distress. What's going on? "Leon, can you hear me?"

"P---iers," he rasps, little more than a soft exhale. "Piers?"

"Shh," Piers sits quickly at Leon's side, reaching out his flesh hand to gently guide Leon's head back to centre and readjust whatever had shifted on his face. "Shh, it's alright, baby. You shouldn't be awake yet."

"Wh---'s---" Leon tries, suddenly breathless, " 's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Piers soothes, a thumb smoothing over Leon's cheek. "Everything's okay, go back to sleep. I promise everyone is alright."

Leon's breath catches, his hand moving sluggishly to paw at Piers' arm in confusion. He doesn't think it actually gets there.

"Sleep," Piers says again, tenderness lacing his voice. "It's okay, Leon, just close your eyes. Just rest."

Leon's surprised to find that his eyelids have already fallen shut while he wasn't looking, his body relaxing back into the soft mattress as a gentle hand strokes his skin with the delicate brush of a butterfly's wing. Piers is warm, his body close and solid, and Leon sighs. He is tired.

The last thing he hears before slipping under entirely is Piers' soft voice, humming what Leon's pretty sure is a lullaby.

[casualavocados]

I asked myself why I failed to notice. It was the first time we'd been apart that long. I found the birthday gifts you prepared for me in my room, from my 18th to my 21st. ...Shut up. I started to think about what you were doing back then. Were you celebrating my birthday all by yourself?

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 12

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

I have to put fresh sheets on my bed and make it but I've just been sitting on my bare mattress for the last 20 mins ranting to myself about this damn show

[itsalwaysdark]

and also it doesnt even matter if i miraculously get a job tmrw bc we don't have a car . and im too out of shape to walk anywhere bc everything is far away . so i genuinely dont jnow what to do

[gutsby]

Bigger in Texas

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel won’t fit.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)

Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠

Update: @sp00kymulderr you’re a legend for this. Dick pronouns are engrained in my brain, and I’m forever grateful.

Word count: 2.3k

This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.

The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.

You, who were young enough to be his daughter.

You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.

You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.

But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.

“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.���

It was simple.

“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in your guts.”

And true.

The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.

“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.

Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.

Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.

It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.

“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.

“He’s so big.”

Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.

Again.

You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.

“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”

You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, ‘So that means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’

And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.

He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.

But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:

“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”

Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.

And his vision blurred more at that word, him.

“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”

Another quarter-inch.

“—so, so bad.”

“Daddy!”

Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.

You whimpered again.

“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”

Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.

“Honey, it’s—”

“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.

“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”

“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”

Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.

He wasn’t about to rush it now and fuck everything up.

“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”

That made you go still.

You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.

“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”

You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.

“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”

You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.

“Be brave…and patient for me.”

From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.

Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.

Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.

It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.

“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.

With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.

“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”

His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.

“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.

“He’s so…” you trailed off.

You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.

“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.

“I know.”

This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.

“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”

“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”

“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”

Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.

Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”

Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.

“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”

Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.

“You think so, sweet pea?”

“I know so. I need it.”

“Need him?”

“Y-Yes.”

How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.

Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.

As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.

“Da-a-ddy. Please.”

You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.

Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:

“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”

It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.

So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.

Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.

“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.

His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.

“Daddy.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.

He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.

“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”

You shook your head. Cried a little more.

Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.

“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”

“Y-Yeah?”

His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.

Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.

“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”

It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.

“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.

“Say what?”

“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”

The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.

His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.

“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”

You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.

And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.

Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.

When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:

“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”

His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.

It was a small pulse, at first.

Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.

Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.

He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.

You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.

You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.

He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.

It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.

Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.

Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.

Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.

“You did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”

can y’all believe this image is what inspired this fic HA

it’s only Thursday i’m sorry 😔

[deathbxnny]

Maybe a part 2 of the arcane characters saying things they regret, but they're apologizing because I can't live after reading a angst 🫠

Making up with Arcane characters after a bad argument. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Fine, fine, here is a happy part two guys. Take it as an apology for the tears and pain I've caused.✨️

Content: Swearing, accusations of cheating, slight angst, making up, fluff, potential spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》VI

She knew that she had fucked up. There was no way to deny or refute it either. And your absence was further proof of that.

You were always there for her, even when things got bad and she became even worse. No matter how much she yelled or drank, you were there afterward to nurture her back to health. It was so unfair of her to expect it still, after all she had said to you. She hated herself. She hated how weak and pathetic she had become. How she can't even stand straight anymore from the alcohol and couldn't win a single game since she had lost you.

And instead of Caitlyn haunting her like she used to, it was only you now. But you were crying every time. Asking her why she hated you so much. Why she couldn't care for you the way you cared for her. Why you were always the second choice despite having been there since the start.

Why, why, why.

Gritting her teeth against the headache, she made her way through the dark, familiar lanes to your small home that you once shared together. She had to talk to you. She really, really had to. Even if it's far too late now after a week of silence in-between the two of you. She had taken the time to reflect and think about everything, especially about your relationship. And it made her realise that nothing in this world was losing you too.

Knocking on your door, she nervously waited as she heard your footsteps quickly approaching her from inside. You opened the door carefully, ironically just how she had taught you, before freezing at the sight of her. She gave you a weak smile, attempting to look calm and friendly, but it still scared you off. "Hey cupca-" You tried slamming the door into her face mid greeting, but her foot was faster to jam itself in the way.

"H-Hey! Wait, please hear me out!" "Fuck off, Vi. I'm not in the mood to hear more of your bullshit. Go back to Caitlyn since I know how badly you want that!" You never cursed, and every word you spoke made her flinch. She, for some reason, didn't expect you to be this mad. But it hurt, and she deserved it. Another thing she underestimated was, unfortunately, your strength since you somehow managed to push her away and shut the door again. "Come on! Please! I... I didn't mean what I said. I just... have been losing my shit ever since what happened. The guilt is killing me, and I know it's not an excuse! You're right, I have to stop this shit! You're right, I need to stop treating your love for granted!"

She didn't know if you were even listening to her anymore, but it didn't stop the tears that burned in her eyes. "I don't give a damn about Caitlyn like that! I never did! It always you for me. You... you cared for me when no one else ever wanted to, and I was such an idiot for not appreciating it more." Her hand slammed against the wood in defeat, her head coming to rest against it as her body trembled. She was so scared of losing you. This can't be the end. "Please. Please just give me another chance to prove myself. I know I'm a fuck up but I swear I'll do better now."

Vi nearly fell right through your house entrance when you opened the door wide with a teary huff. "God, you're such an idiot... get in already before the neighbors complain." You didn't let her reply as you simply dragged her inside and locked the door again. The pitfighter watched you do so with a gentle gaze, one that felt so familiar to you. "... Fine, I'll give you another chance... but no drinking or fighting anymore. Please." You whisper to her, and she nods quickly before engulfing you in a warm hug.

She knows that she isn't fully forgiven yet, but she'll do everything in her power to prove herself worthy of your love again.

》CAITLYN

"You're still up." Caitlyn's voice was calm and gentle now, so different from the stern and cold tone it had before. You ignored her, however, knowing better than to fall for this again. She always got like this when she knew she had screwed up and was trying to crawl back into your good graces. But this time around, you didn't allow it that easily. You refused to speak to her if she hadn't come back to apologize. And yet... you couldn't help but allow yourself at least one sharp dig at her. "And you're late to bed once again. But I suppose Officer Nolan's 'report' was just that interesting, no?" You were perhaps the only person in all auf Pultover that could ever accuse her of something so scandalous as adultery and get away with it.

It certainly would have been amusing if Caitlyn didn't feel so sick at the thought of you believing that.

Sighing, she placed her hat onto a clothing hanger, her jacket following suit. You were facing away from her on the bed, trying to read a book and rest, despite the pain in your heart. It was hard being angry at her when you loved her so deeply. But her insults had struck much deeper than that.

The bed dipped behind you, and soon enough, you felt her strong arms surrounding your body and her nose tickling your cheek. "I'm sorry, my love. I really am. I... have lost my cool, and that was wrong of me." You scoffed at her words, finding them too shallow for the pain she had caused earlier. Yet you struggled to get out of her strong grasp on you. It felt desperate. And you hated the warmth and security that it made you feel. "If that is all you have to say, then you can leave." You hissed out weakly but couldn't find any malice in it. Just heartbreak, that solidified in more tears burning in your eyes. "Because how... how could you ever say that I could betray you? Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you care?"

Caitlyn hummed against the nape of your neck soothingly, a way to acknowledge the plight she had caused you without revealing her own tears. The grief had made her into a monster. A monster that hurt its friends, family, and most importantly, you. It was unforgivable, and yet she wanted to prove herself worthy of you anyway. She wanted to show you that she hadn't changed deep down like everyone claimed. She was still yours.

"... I will find a way to end this war and resolve it peacefully as soon as I can. I swear it to you." She began, her voice low and gentle, as she listened to the sound of your hiccups and sniffling. This wasn't what she wanted. "And I apologize, truly, for what I called you... I know that you are loyal and trustworthy. Much more than I ever could be... I'm still your Caitlyn." The last part was whispered quietly, as she tried everyone in her power to not break down in front of you like this.

She hated what she had become deep down. She knew it was wrong and that her mother must've been turning in her grave at the sight of what she had done. But what she couldn't handle at all was you hating and leaving her.

There was a moment of silence before you turned to face her and immideatly hugged her impossibly close as you cried into her arms. She rubbed your back lovingly, understanding that this was your way of accepting her apology. But forgiveness will still be a long journey she was willing to take.

For now, she'd rest in your embrace thankfully.

》JINX

Deep down, you knew that she didn't mean what she said. She never would do anything to hurt you. Silco's death was just killing her more than anyone could have expected, and it was hard for everyone to deal with. But you just couldn't take the pain and hurt she caused you anymore. You've been there since day one. You were always at her side. You always took care of her when no one else wanted to. And you understood her better than she did herself. But it was ultimately just not enough. Or so you thought.

The young girl that was now dragging you through the lanes reminded you of her too. She didn't speak a word to you, and for some reason, you didn't have it in you to protest against her odd actions either. She somehow seemed to recognize you the second you bumped into her. And that was enough for her to take your hand and lead you to a very familiar hideout. Perhaps it was fate that brought you here again when you needed Jinx the most.

"Hey kid, who's our little guest-?" The rest of the young woman's words died on her tongue, and it left you simply staring at each other. There was a familiar haze in her eyes, one that you often saw when the voices were taking over. She once mentioned that you sometimes became a part of her hallucinations during longer absences, and that reminder alone made your heart ache. You shouldn't have run away that day. But what other choice did you have? She didn't trust you anymore. She didn't think you should be together anymore. Why were you even here?

"S-sorry... I'm just going to leave..." You muttered as your ears rung and that familiar burning in your eyes made your sight blurry. You felt suffocated and somehow also angry, wishing she could just see how much you loved and cared for her. But just as you were turning away to run again, her strong hand was quicker and held you back by your arm. "Wait. Let's just... talk, alright? Like we always do?" That was your thing. Whenever things got bad, you'd sit down and talk calmly to her about it. She used to scoff at it every time... yet she was the one who suggested now for once. Something about it shook you so hard that it made the first tears finally spill at the recognition she had given you for all the work you've put into her.

Jinx panicked a little at that, unsure of how to comfort you, yet at Isha's stern frown and cross of her small arms, she just hugged you for the first time in a while. And god, did she miss it.

Perhaps it was good to show the little girl a picture of you after all.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I swear, sweetie! I... I won't ever say stuff like that again. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I just, I was just-" You hushed her by just hugging her tighter and shaking your head. "It's okay... just hold me for a while. We can talk later... I missed you so much." You whispered, voice breaking into sobs. Jinx hummed weakly and sighed against your hair, the familiar scent making her relax and feel better at last.

Isha grinned to herself behind you before quickly sneaking off to let you talk things out.

》EKKO

To say that the entire firelight hideout was pissed at him would be an understatement. Absolutely everyone disagreed with the way he treated you, and the side eyes he got very much confirmed this. But the worst part of it all was definitely you avoiding him like the plague.

Every time he entered a room, you were the first one to leave in a hurry. Every time he tried speaking to you, you either ignored him or found an excuse to get away. Every time someone even mentioned his name to you, your mood seemed to dampen. And that hurt so much that it killed him. This isn't how he wanted you to feel about him. He was your boyfriend, damnit it. Yet he acknowledged that he was failing at his job way more than he should've allowed himself to. He had to fix this somehow.

Ekko couldn't just lose you over his own foolishness. You were the one person who motivated him to keep going even on his worst days. You were the light he fought for. The person he battled to come home to every day. He couldn't handle your absence any longer, especially at night when he laid wide awake in your empty bed without you.

And so, he finally had enough and cornered you one night up in the tree during a patrol you had together. One, he definitely didn't pull the strings for to happen. And ever the one to abide by his orders despite your current dismay, you were now avoiding his gaze whilst you watched your sleeping home below. It was peaceful and calm, but the pain lingered between you two too much to enjoy the moment. He didn't know how to break the deafening silence, and it made him think of backing out on his initial plan... until you surprised him by speaking up first.

"I'm... sorry for avoiding you. I didn't mean for this to become your last resort. I just... didn't want to be a burden anymore." "Wait, wait, wait... who said that you were a burden, I... I should be the one apologizing right now. Because I was wrong about every fucking thing I said to you." The words spilled out in panic at the mere thought of you blaming yourself. He never wanted you to feel like this. It made him feel even worse about himself. This wasn't right. "You're not useless. You do so much for us, for me, and I take it all for granted like the asshole I am! And I fully acknowledge that now... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. There is no excuse for it." He shook his head in disappointment at himself, wondering if this was it now. He'd understand if you broke up with him now... but instead, you seemed to be in the mood to surprise him alot today.

"Did you... like the food I made you?" He blinked at your question in confusion, yet answered honestly. "Best thing I had all week." "Then I guess I'll forgive you... just don't do that again." Ekko chuckled weakly at your words, relief filling his senses whilst he pulled you close to press a kiss to your head. "Would never dream of it... wanna ditch patrol and fly around town?" You mirrored his sly smile, glad he had the same thing on his mind as you did. "Sure thing. But let's make it a race."

He let you win.

》SEVIKA

She took some time to cool off after your argument and returned later into the night with a clearer mind. Sevika had actually reflected on what you had said to her, and she knew you were ultimately right. She was extremely overprotective and stubborn, two things that didn't mesh well and often ended in her thinking you couldn't take care of yourself. Even if she knew better than to actually believe that.

You were strong, especially mentally. It's what drew her into you to begin with. But with the fall of Silco and a war being on the verge of breaking out against Piltover, she had no choice but to make sure that you never left her sight. And if you did, then you had to be somewhere she knew was safe and away from all the chaos she dealt with daily. It helped her focus and stay calm to know that you're okay. Yet despite how much she cared, she still fucked it all up for herself again.

And now she had to fix it, something she was never good at.

She felt awfully guilty at the sight of the things you've lovingly prepared for her, now laying forgotten and cold on the kitchen counter. She truly didn't deserve someone as kind as you. And yet she considered herself too selfish to let you go.

Slowly approaching the bedroom door, she paused to hear if you were awake or not. Unfortunately, you were, but she only knew this from the faintest sound of your sniffling and sobbing that drifted through the wooden door. Sighing to herself, she knocked once, deciding to just rake things slow and as calmly as possible. You had sustained an injury after all, and her mind was reeling at the thought of it getting worse without any proper care. "What do you want?!" Your weak voice yelled at her, and it made her frown. Yeah, you were definitely beyond pissed.

"I want to talk." Her gruff voice said, and it may have sounded like a demand if the underlying care and worry didn't overshadow it so clearly. Your silence made her initially think you were ignoring her until the door slowly opened and revealed your disheveled form. "... well, go ahead." You muttered, one hand cradling the side of your hip that was clumsily bandaged up by you. You were never good at stuff like that.

"Let me take care of the wound whilst we're at it. Can't have ya dying on me because of an infection." She sighed out before simply dragging you to your shared bed and pulling out your medkit. You didn't protest or complain and let her do as she pleased, whilst you carefully listened to her speak with an unreadable expression.

"Listen. I... get it. I really do. The way I treat you isn't right, and I know you're grown enough to take care of yourself, but... I can't risk losing you too now. It drives me crazy to think about. Even if that ain't much of an excuse, and I get that too." She was never this honest before. Usually, she simply deflected or blamed someone else. But here she was, for once admitting openly to being the problem. "Just... be more careful out there. That's all I ask of you. I won't comment on it otherwise anymore though, unless you're in serious danger. I promise." Finishing the last of her bandaging, she hummed at it now looking much securer. This way, you are sure to recover much faster.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head at her words, deciding to give her another chance to prove herself. You understood where she was coming from after all. "Okay, fine. I'll accept your apology... if you help me cook." She grinned at that slightly with a casual shrug. "Fine by me, if I get a taste of your heavenly cooking, sweetheart."

[beachboysnatural]

I played the first movement of Elgar at my concert the other day and almost cried afterward because of my old cello teacher so like I knew the breakdown was coming but I didn't expect it to hit as hard as it did

[moonlightrafe]

The Albatross

summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegon’s first child and his entire world changes.

pairing: Aegon x Strong!Reader

word count: 767

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, brief mention of blood, guilt.

note: “Albatross” is used metaphorically as a psychological burden dealing with shame or guilt! (and shout out to Taylor Swift)

Aegon wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate your hair and your eyes. Your thick eyelashes, the freckles that dusted your cheeks, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. Despite wanting to hate you in your entirety, he found himself physically incapable of doing so. As a young boy he refused to admit it, even going so far as to tease you for your features — but he thought you were beautiful. If anything, you could’ve resembled his mother more than a Targaryen.

It wasn’t your features that were wrong, but who you inherited them from; you and your brother’s served as living, breathing reminders of Rhaenyra’s infidelity.

Alicent Hightower had been sure to remind him and his siblings that you and your brothers were a product of their older sister's infidelity. An embarrassment to the family. An insult to the crown, to the realm. Abominations. Bastards.

Screams of pain shook the walls of the Red Keep.

“I can’t do this anymore, Aegon! Please make it stop, it hurts!” you rasped, clawing at the blood-soaked bedsheets. It had been almost 24 hours since your labors had begun. To everyone's surprise, Aegon had yet to leave your side.

“We’re almost there, my love. You’re doing a great job,” your husband encouraged as he placed a chaste kiss to your sweat-drenched forehead, which you only returned with a death glare.

“I cannot take it anymore! Just get it out! Cut it out if you have to!”

One of your handmaids tried to dab at your forehead with a cloth, but you gripped her hand forcefully.

Aegon gave her a sympathetic look as he got her out of your grasp, locking his fingers with yours.

“You know we can’t do that, my love. I will not risk losing you.”

You winced as your midwife slid a finger around the base of your opening. All day long you had been violated against your will. Childbirth was not only painful, but humiliating. For Aegon’s sake, you silently prayed the babe was a boy. You weren’t sure if you would be willing to go through this again.

“I can feel the head, your grace. Just a few more big pushes for me and the babe will be here.”

You groaned loudly, your teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked your frame. Pain radiated down your spine and into your groin. You felt like you were being ripped apart at the seams. Being eaten by Sunfyre seemed to be a more pleasant fate than this.

“You hear that? You’re almost done. You’re doing so good.”

You squeezed onto Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, pushing with all the strength in your body. The harder you pushed, the sooner it would be over. You needed it to be over. With a final push, your vision began to blur and your mind went blank.

Before you knew it, loud cries pulled you back to Earth, and coo’s from your handmaidens filled the room. You laid back with a sigh of relief.

Finally.

The handmaids quickly handed the babe to Aegon so you could get cleaned up.

“A girl,” she stated proudly, “and she looks just like you, my queen.”

“Like me?” You shot up.

“Lay back your grace, you need to relax,” she scolded you.

Throughout your pregnancy there was a fear in the back of your mind, that if the babe inherited your features that Aegon would be disappointed. Turns out, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Yes,” he chuckled, tears swelling in his eyes, “like you. She is absolutely beautiful.”

He placed the baby in your arms, smiling down at the two of you.

A wave of guilt had crashed over Aegon at the sight of his newborn daughter. As well as your initial reaction to her looks. Thinking about the torment you endured for those same features in a world full of violet eyes and snow-white hair. How could he have been so cruel to you for something so fickle?

He couldn’t help but think about Ser Harwin Strong. And the fact that he probably shared the same thoughts as him the first time he laid eyes on you as a babe. This baby was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and the thought of anyone making her believe anything else made his blood boil. He would simply not allow it. Anyone who even dare whisper a word regarding your daughters features would lose their tongue for it.

Although the responsibility of sitting the Iron Throne loomed heavy over Aegon’s head it wasn’t until this very moment that he had true reason to be motivated to rule: his new family

[lymtw]

Aftercare

Aftercare with Toji, where after all the roughness and manhandling is over with, he can't take his eyes off of you. All he cares about is making sure that you're not in excruciating pain, yet he hasn't been able to say a word for the past five minutes. You've pressed so many tender kisses to his face and expressed that you're okay enough times to him, but he can't seem to drop the smallest, lingering coil of guilt he feels at the sight of your scuffed up body. You look like you fought off a bear and ripped octopus tentacles off your skin—simultaneously, with all the scratches, bruises, and hickeys that littered you from your jaw to your ankles.

"Quit staring," you say, bringing your knees up and crossing your arms, your hands gripping your biceps.

"Nah- baby..." he finally says, softly, like he's quickly trying to justify the gaze he had set on you. "Come here."

Toji makes quick work of crushing this wave of insecurity that threatens your peace. He knows what you just endured was not the softest experience, and that you practically let him—a man capable of showing the aggression of a pack of wolves, devour you. Really, he did not hold back at all.

You slide down the bed and pull the covers over your body, laying your head on his chest with an arm thrown over his midsection. He pulls you close with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. "You know I love you, right, mama?"

"Mhm," you hum. Minutes ago you would have thought those words were a cruel joke being played on you with the way he gripped onto you like he wanted it to hurt.

"Wasn't trying to hurt your feelings by staring at you like that. Just did a lot of damage, this time, and it looks like it hurts... a lot."

"I'm fine," you repeat, for the nth time. You look up at him, briefly, sparing a smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. "A hot shower will melt it all away, I promise," you mumble.

He brushes over one of the many stains he left on the side of your neck. "My little trooper," he sighs, very much relaxed by your side. "You know i'd be proud even if you told me you were hurting." He knows it'll take more than a shower to get all these new semipermanent tattoos off your pretty skin, but for the sake of not making you feel small, again, he shuts up about it.

"I know," you assure. "I just don't wanna burden you. You're probably just as tired, if not more."

"What do you need?"

You lift your head again and look at him, confusion filling out your features. "You heard me, didn't you? I can take care of myself."

"I know that, and I don't doubt it for a second, but you're really gonna reject me?" He hisses, dramatically clutching his chest. "Damn, mama, just like that?"

"Well, no. Of course not-"

"Right. Of course not," he says, with that horrible tendency he has of cutting you off when the situation benefits you. "Gonna ask you one more time, and if you don't answer, i'm just gonna do what I want for you. What do you need?"

You had to think about it for a minute, about how you wanted him to help you. Independence shone through your thoughts. Everything he could help you with, you could also do alone. You didn't want to be needy.

"Five..." He's timing you, now. "Four..." The countdown has your brain scrambling to pick something. Anything, but you're blanking, losing second by second the already little time you were gifted. "Three... it shouldn't be this hard," he teases, a smirk on his face.

"I don't know, um."

"Two... you're gonna lose the option of telling me what to do, doll."

"No- I don't know."

"One." The countdown ends. "Alright," he groans, pulling you up with him as he sits up. "Let's go."

–

Sure enough, once the lukewarm water hit your skin, you gained a burst of energy. You made the washing of your body an amusing, yet tedious task for Toji. With all your little excitement fueled dances and laughter, what should have been a ten minute session turned into a twenty minute one.

"Doll, turn around. Let me get your back," Toji says, holding back a grin at the sight of you trying to soothe the burning sensation you feel in your nose after inhaling water.

You turn your back to him, before jovially turning to face him again. "Joking, joking," you say, when you catch his lidded eyes. You quickly turn your back to him, again, with giggles slipping past your lips.

He sighs, unable to hold back the gentle curl of his lips any longer. "What am I gonna do with you?" He lathers you from the nape of your neck to your lower back, with soap. The contrast of the white foam and the darkened stains on your skin, were enough to have him thinking about what ended just a little over half an hour ago. There wasn't a spot on you that didn't have some mark of his on it. Your shoulder blades and spine were mottled with stains of his lips, and your hips had opaque fingerprints on them.

You winced and took a step forward, away from Toji's touch, successfully pulling him out of his zoned out state. "You're scrubbing the scratches too hard," you say, turning to him while running your hands over the tender skin.

"Shit," he gently pulls you back and turns your back to him again, "sorry, princess." A few soothing kisses are pressed into the strikes, enough of them to make you forget that it even stung in the first place. He makes sure his mind stays out of the gutter, at least until he's done washing you, so that he doesn't hurt you again.

After showering, you stayed in bed while Toji went to the kitchen to make some tea for you. He did this for you after every night of intimacy, to expedite the betterment of your exhausted throat. He also knows of the calming properties that ease you into slumber. He wants nothing more than for you to sleep off the soreness your body retains.

"There you go, baby. I know you don't like it, but it'll make your throat feel better, so you have to drink the whole thing." He settles down next to you, on his side of the bed and watches you sip on the steaming hot drink.

The familiar scrunch of your nose appears at the taste that hits your taste buds, a sight that Toji has started looking forward to. "I hate the flavor just a little more every time I drink it. Oh well," you say, taking another sip, ignoring the scalding heat that embraces your tongue.

"I know. It sucks," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Hopefully, next time we choose correctly and get something you'll like."

You set the mug down on the nightstand and turn to him. With warm hands, you cup his cheeks and tilt his head up slightly.

"What?" He asks, his eyes directed towards you.

Your smile evolves into a short giggle as you stare at one pinpointed spot on the side of his neck. "I got you, too. Right..." you drag a finger down his neck, gently pressing on the dark spot you left on him. "...here."

His hand tracks your touch and replaces it with his own, feeling the mark. "Damn right, you did. You got me, baby," he says through a grin. "My turn?"

You sigh, with faux irritation. "Fiiine."

"Let's see..." He cups your cheeks the way you did his. "I got this whole area here." His thumb brushes over your jawline, dragging beneath it to where the marks end. "Then there's this entire patch right here." He turns your head, exposing the reddish-purple splotches on the side of your neck to the light. His eyes trace the slope that leads to your shoulder, spotting the marks that remain visible beneath the collar of your shirt. He coordinates his touch with his sight, dragging his fingers over your delicate skin. "Right here," he says, after pulling the collar of your shirt down your shoulder, revealing more of his marks.

"Okay, okay. You win," you say fixing your shirt, covering up again.

"There's one right there," he continues, tapping the column of your neck. "Some more there," his finger glides over your left collarbone.

"Toji, I swear, if you point out one more, i'm gonna bite your finger off."

He stares at you silently, the corners of his lips twitching as you watch him, intently. After a few seconds, he slowly starts directing his finger towards a mark on your chest. Once he makes contact with your skin, he gently presses on the smear of color that marks it, still holding eye contact with you. "Here, too."

You swat his hand away from you, and huff. "Why did I even try to threaten you? You want me to bite your finger off, huh?"

"Not in the slightest. I just knew you weren't actually gonna do it, so I pushed it."

You cross your arms. "Whatever. I'm just gonna put a hoodie on so you can't look at them anymore."

"Woah, baby, put down the knife," he says, hands up in playful surrender. "No need to take drastic measures over this. Don't hide all my hard work."

"Hard work," you mutter, an incredulous scoff following.

Toji's gaze falls on your lips. "You're pouting like you wanna be kissed," he teases.

"And you're... you're being annoying," you say, covering your mouth with your hand, concealing the involuntary lift of your lips.

"Yeah, but you still want me to kiss you," he says, with a sly, knowing smirk on his face. "Look at you. Look at that blush. Even your knuckles are red, doll."

"Oh my god..." you groan with embarrassment. You use both hands to cover your entire face, now.

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "You're so pretty, ma. A total work of art." His hands have never gotten lost on you, but for now, in any way he holds you, he'll be able to see the trails his lips left behind.

"Stop..." you mumble, smiling softly at the sweetness poured into his words.

"You look mine, with all these marks," he says, pulling down the collar of your shirt a little, to see the blots of color that appear at the start of your spine.

"Shut up," you say, blushing furiously against his chest.

"Sounds like you still want that kiss, huh?"

"Not anymore," you say, lifting your gaze to meet his. The look in your eyes betrays every ounce of your denial. Toji can very clearly tell that you're lying.

"Those rosy cheeks are saying something else," he says, grinning. "Damn, look at those pretty lips. They're ready for me."

"If you want to kiss me, just say so," you chide, lightheartedly.

"I'm gonna kiss you so hard, doll," he says, cupping your cheeks again. "Your lips lack a little more of me."

[saintobio]

blank canvas. (2)

after offering a painful ultimatum to finally be enough for him, things ultimately get worse as he decides between keeping you or losing you as the only resolution.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. strong language, defloration (kinda), explicit smut, undertones of manipulation and gaslighting, toxic relationship, undertones of cheating

notes. 11.2k wc! thanks for the love on bc1, i didn't expect it to gain traction at all but tyty. last part will come soon, but that will be the final chapter to this mini-series.

part 1 | part 3

The ride back home was uncomfortable. 

It wasn’t because you had promised to give yourself to him that night, but rather because his uncharacteristic silence was not what you had expected after delivering your ultimatum. You already proposed a wonderful solution to his needs, so why was he acting like you were the one being ridiculous? This was why you hated it whenever Sukuna chose silence over open communication, as it left you a hard time guessing about what was running through his mind. His expression didn’t offer any clues either, because he did pretty well at concealing his emotions behind a facade of indifference.

When you said you would do it with him, you meant it. But what did he think of it? 

The sharp wind cut through your skin, the roar of his motorbike deafening your ears as your boyfriend accelerated his vehicle upon entering the tunnel. The vibrant yellow lights offered a cinematic view, tempting you to imagine yourself embracing the wind with open arms, though you knew better than to do so. Instead, you held onto him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning forward as he sped through the empty lane.

It was nearing midnight, and the sparse traffic allowed Sukuna to indulge in one of his habits: riding his bike in the late hours of the night through this particular tunnel and onto the highway. You knew this ritual helped him clear his mind since it offered a rush of danger that sharpened his focus on the road. His choice to take this route tonight also only confirmed to you that he was grappling with internal thoughts. The last time he rode this fast was when your parents made you choose between them and him, slapping it in his face that he was and would never be welcomed in your family. 

To be honest, it frightened you. The speed at which he was riding was dangerous for both of you. Moreover, his bike was a YZF-R1, although street-legal, it was still a high-performance sport bike more suited for the track. It required agile and precise handling with its 1000cc engine. Yet, no other vehicle seemed more fitting for Sukuna than this. 

Whatever was on his mind, he didn’t care to let you know. You two didn’t really speak throughout the ride while you clung to him like a backpack, praying in your head that you two wouldn’t get into an accident. Thankfully enough, he did safely take you home as you arrived at your shared apartment at exactly midnight. 

“Please don’t ride like that again,” you muttered as he helped you out of his motorbike. “You could’ve gotten us killed.” 

His fingers then reached to unclasp your helmet, pulling it up to reveal your face. “Well, we’re still alive.” 

You looked at his face despite his best effort to avoid yours, standing centimeters apart while he switched off the engine. He didn’t return your gaze as though he was drowned by guilt. Should you speak at this? Or should you let him do it first? 

“Baby.” After a minute or so, it was your boyfriend who sighed and finally gave in, pulling you close and resting his forehead against yours. He kept his eyes closed even when he was cupping your cheeks. “You don’t have to do this.” 

Yes, you certainly shouldn’t. You didn’t have to do things unwillingly, but that wouldn’t change the fact that this on-going issue was putting a strain on your relationship and this would be your last shot at trying to salvage it. And you couldn’t have him looking for sensual gratification from anyone else other than you, so what other option did you have, really? 

“I want to do it.” 

“Not if you’re forcing yourself like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m forcing myself?”

“Your face tells me you are,” replied he, staring at your face in defeat. “So, let’s not—”

“What, and let this issue haunt us over and over?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head adamantly. “This has to be done. I need to experience it so I’ll finally understand.”

Understand what? His face almost spelled out those words, but he chose not to say anything of the sort and instead leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Alright. I’ll make it memorable.” 

— —

Easier said than done, of course. You kept overthinking about whether your performance would be satisfactory to him given that you didn’t have enough experience to learn anything at all, aside from the make out sessions that you did once in a blue moon. Around thirty minutes of your time was spent hyperanalyzing your situation in the shower, while the other half of it was spent doing a little more than your nightly routines. Since Sukuna liked powdery scents, you placed a good effort in applying lavender-scented oil and perfume on every inch of your body. You also shaved any unwanted hair, especially on all the intimate places you knew he would be seeing. And by the time you were done, you stepped out of the bathroom blooming like a fresh flower, wrapped in nothing but a thin towel that hugged your womanly figure. 

It didn’t feel right at all. It didn’t feel good knowing that you were preparing yourself like that, when these things should only happen on the first night after your wedding. It didn’t feel great that you were going to lose your virginity to a man who had not even proposed to you. This wasn’t even your honeymoon, but you had to pretend like it was. 

Did Sukuna feel the same? 

He wasn’t lying in bed when you walked out of the bathroom. Instead, he had just returned from outside—shirtless, wearing his favorite gray sweatpants, and holding a box of condoms and a tube of lube in his hand. It was clear he had made a quick visit to the convenience store nearby and got the essentials for your first night.

Immediately, he eyed your towel-wrapped body with restrained lust, clearing his throat as he walked towards the nightstand. “You look nice.” 

Really? Did he really have to make this more awkward than it already was? 

“Thank you,” was all you could softly reply. It was funny how he pretended to be busy placing the box and tube above the bedside table instead of lunging at you like a desperate man. But because you wanted to get this over with, you were the one who approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist, and touching the firmness of his abs. For someone who had zero experience, you were definitely trying hard enough and that should please him. “You have to help me out here, my love. Guide me.” 

When Sukuna turned around, your heart started racing. Of excitement? Maybe. Of anxiety? Perhaps. He made it better though when he finally caved in and looked straight into your eyes, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before lifting your chin with his hand. “You smell extra nice, too,” he added, leaning close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. 

You were feeling it now. The equal lust. The carnal desire. The feeling of his sweet kisses, which he made true as soon as he crashed his lips onto yours. His kisses usually ranged from tender to rough, but this time, it was an altogether different type of kiss. It was passionate and demonstrative, as if showing you exactly what he had been wanting to do to you the first time you got together. This must be the result of being celibate in over a year. He was clearly a man deprived of sexual pleasure, and you were responsible for it. You actually turned him into a monk. 

Now, he wasn’t holding anything back anymore. With his hand on your nape, he deepened the kiss to the point where you could feel his tongue exploring your mouth. You followed whatever he was doing like a good girl, like a very good girl, as he completely devoured your mouth with his. It didn’t take long for him to advance his kisses in other places too, being your jawline his next target, and then your neck as he feathered kisses around the soft flesh, leaving marks that would need a few days to be concealed. 

Because his arms were tight around your waist, yours were locked around his neck. Where else should you be putting them? What does the girl usually do in this situation? You tried not to think much of it and listened to your own body while your boyfriend was sucking the skin around your collarbone. At first, your hand traced his toned chest, then it moved southwards to feel his abs, and further down to his…

“Y-You’re hard.” Your eyes widened as you felt his growing erection behind the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t your first time seeing his boner, but it was the first time you touched it with your own hand. It was the first time you had your palm stroking his length, swallowing hard as you realized just how hard and thick he was. 

“It wants to be inside you,” he whispered through your mouth, kissing you back again, “so bad, baby.” 

Gosh. Your knees felt weak and you two hadn’t even really started yet. How much more when he starts putting that thing of his inside you? You were breathing hard, trying to catch air as your boyfriend continued to lap his tongue with yours, guiding your hand to continue fondling his wood while it grew bigger the more stimulated it got. By letting you touch his hardened crotch together with his own, you realized that you had just unlocked a newfound fetish of yours. “D-Do you… do you think about doing it with me often?”

He bit your lower lip before pulling away, animalistic eyes sending you into an orbit of pleasure. “Do you mean if I touch myself to the thought of you a lot?” he teased, chuckling darkly at the obvious heat on your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel excited at how vulgar he could be with his words. “I do jack off a lot, angel. And it’s always you in my mind.” 

You didn’t even have the time to melt from his words, because before you knew it, he was already peeling the towel off your body to reveal your completely naked figure. Obviously, your first reaction was to get shy—with your heated cheeks, your inability to look him in the eyes, your little efforts in covering your breasts and crotch, but he made sure to pull your hands away while keeping his eyes on you. “…Don’t stare.” 

Sukuna, however, didn’t listen. His dark eyes scanned every curve of your body, particularly around your chest area before he sighed and threw his head back. “Fuck,” he cussed under his breath. “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t believe no other punk has seen you like this.” 

Your confidence grew little by little because of his praises. “But isn’t that a good thing?” 

“For sure.” He almost laughed at his own words, more so in disbelief, before he reached out to touch your bosom. “No one can touch you like this, either, baby.” 

“That’s—”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend smirked at your reaction. While his other hand went to squeeze your breast, the other traveled to your bum, squeezing the cheek with equal fervor. “Can I have a taste of you, baby?”

He fondled your breasts with both hands now, massaging the rounded mass like they were his property. You had to admit to yourself that the feeling of being touched actually transcended your expectations. Or maybe it was only because of how erotic it was, but you couldn’t deny how turned on you were as his veiny, manly hands cupped your bosom. 

And as soon as you nodded and permitted him to ‘taste’ you, he took no time in gently pushing you down the mattress, allowing you to lay at a comfortable position under him and his wanton stare. Taste you? He was more like eating you, when he pinned you against the mattress and sucked the skin on your chest. At first, his tongue rolled along your cleavage, inching closer and closer to your right breast while he had his hand squeezing the left. Your body naturally gravitated towards him as you arched your back so he could have better access to your chest. Not only your chest, but also your crotch as he started grinding his clothed manhood in between your folds. 

“Mm…”

Sukuna’s mouth was on your breast now, suckling on your flesh and playing his tongue around your nipple. You couldn’t tell if it was pleasurable or painful because his tongue felt ticklish on your skin, but the suction definitely was an entirely different feeling. Both weren’t bad, anyway. They were just new to you. But even if they were foreign, you were curious and all the more interested, studying every little thing he was doing with your body and trying to make mental notes out of it. 

Maybe you should have watched porn. That way, you could have been more aware of the step-by-step process of having sex. Who knew there were steps to follow at all? You didn’t think that foreplay could draw this much delay in your session because all you thought was that he was going to insert his cock straight inside you as soon as he saw you naked. 

With all the touching, fondling, and kissing… what were you supposed to do? He was doing all the work here. 

“Baby,” you spoke softly, staring at the ceiling, “C-Can I… touch you?” 

Instead of pulling away, his mouth latched onto your left boob, giving it the same attention before moving south. “Not yet.” 

When he said that, you didn’t expect his hand to land on your crotch. Your heart was thumping at an irregular rhythm as you felt his fingers moving in circles around your bud, playing with your clit before spreading your folds apart. “Nghh—!” you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, eyes widening at the sound of your voice, but your boyfriend shushed you by placing a peck on your lips before spreading your legs into a V. 

“You’re so wet,” he said, pointing out the obvious as he positioned himself in between your legs, spreading your labia to reveal your entrance. Something about the situation made you increasingly self-conscious, but his undeniably hungry gaze kept you from covering your most sensitive area. It seemed like he was enjoying the sight of your pussy, especially with how wet and ‘untouched’ it was. “Your pussy’s so pretty, baby,” he mumbled, lowering his face closer to the area, “Can’t wait to put my dick inside it.” 

You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue in between your folds. No, you couldn’t even think straight after he started teasing your vagina, alternating between flicking his tongue around your bud to french kissing your entrance. His tongue was so deep in your cavern that you were raising your hips involuntarily, going insane from the pleasure it sent your body. Your hands even gripped the sheets and your back arched into a C as you held back from moaning like a wild animal. At some point, the slurping sounds and the feeling of his mouth kissing your vagina had your legs shaking. 

Though, you could ask yourself: what turned you on the most? Was it him actually eating your pussy or just the idea of him doing it? 

And just when you thought he was done, he replaced his mouth by inserting a finger inside your cunt, garnering a much louder whimper out of you. “B-Baby!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked, eyes locked with yours as he slowly moved his middle finger in and out. “It’s so tight.” 

“It hurts…” You nodded, feeling his finger moving in circles inside your cunt as though he was trying to get a feel of your walls, measuring the tightness and such. 

He kissed you for a good minute. “Relax, angel. Don’t clench too much.” 

Clench? You didn’t even know you were doing such a thing. “How to…?” 

“Just relax.” Sukuna placed a hand on your abdomen, pressing it down while he was inserting yet another finger inside of you. “This’ll help you prepare so it won’t hurt as much later.” 

Now, you were goddamn nervous. What did he mean it wouldn’t hurt as much? Because you were overthinking the pain of having him his actual cock inside of you. If you couldn’t even bear having his two fingers inside you, how much more with his clearly thick shaft? It was ridiculous to feel both anxious and yet aroused at the same time. Anxious, because you knew he could rip you open. Aroused, because his fingers were currently doing a great job at hitting your most sensitive spot. Whatever it was that he was reaching, it was certainly sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body. 

His fingers continued to move. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Around. When he pulled his digits out, he sucked the juices on them, tasting every drip of your essence from his fingers. “Sweet.”

Were you? You started to get curious at how he tasted, too. Sweet? Salty? Bitter? You seemed to be moving on autopilot when you pulled yourself up and sat in bed on your knees. “Your turn?” 

You asked the question as if you knew what you were doing, which was why Sukuna found it adorable and humorous at the same time. He did help you pull down the sweatpants that had been covering his erection for what felt like eternity, only to reveal a monstrous size that sprung out of the garment. 

Holy fuck was all you could say. 

He stood at the edge of the bed, a devilish smirk displayed on his saintly face as he saw the length of his cock compared to your face. You obviously hadn’t seen many cocks in your lifetime to be able to compare his size, but in your eyes, he was definitely big. He was girthy. He was lengthy. He was veiny. Meaty. 

“Wanna suck it for me, baby?” he encouraged, pumping his shaft while looking at you. Fuck. “Open your mouth.” 

You did as told, wrapping a hand at the base of his length while placing his tip on your mouth. You pressed your tongue flat on the surface of his tip, rolling your tongue around the head as if it were a lollipop. Was that what you were supposed to do?

“Eyes on me.” His voice deepened an octave. And it was also raspier. 

Why did he want you to look up at him? It was already embarrassing. 

“I said, eyes on me, angel.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to lock eyes with his darkened ones. Damn. No wonder girls were desperate to see him in his shop every single day. This was probably what they had been daydreaming about. “Suck my cock.” 

In your head, you became a slut. In reality, you were still a shy, inexperienced virgin who didn’t know what to do. You relied on his instructions and looked at his expressions to know if you were doing a good job and to see what he liked and didn’t like. He definitely liked it when you sucked the head, liked it even more when you started to let him go deeper in your mouth, and surely liked it a hell lot better when you gagged after his cock hit the back of your throat. But in spite of the string of saliva that left your mouth after gagging from his cock, his arousal only grew harder, this time holding your hair in his fist as he began thrusting his hip forward. You were bobbing your head at a rhythm that satisfied him, feeling the stretch on your scalp as he tightened his grip on your hair. 

“Tighten your mouth around it,” he instructed, fucking your mouth senselessly like hitting your throat was driving him nuts. Your eyes were already filling up with tears because of your urge to gag again, but you didn’t think it would be a good idea to stop now while he was just starting to pleasure himself. 

This was the first time in your life to give someone a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to make of that experience. It personally didn’t give you pleasure, but you liked hearing his desperate moans. You liked hearing him curse and get vulgar with his words. You liked seeing him get rough. His taste, on the other hand, was somewhat a different experience. Since you were only sucking his flesh, it was a tad bit salty at first contact but didn’t taste anything much after tongue got used to the skin around his shaft. Perhaps his cum would have a stronger flavor, though it looked like he had no plans in releasing his load into your mouth as he pulled his member out. 

“Fuck it,” he grunted, gently pushing you back and spreading your legs wide open again, “I wanna feel your pussy so bad. Can I fuck you raw, babe?” 

All those condoms, and he wanted to have you raw? 

“But… I don’t wanna get pregnant.” 

His face was full of assurance, shaking his head and denying any chance of knocking you up. “You won’t be. I’ll pull out, I just… I have to feel you raw the first time. I have to.” 

“Okay…” 

You were nervous as hell. You had butterflies in your stomach, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t silence. You had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, the reality of it was too overwhelming. Your mind yet again raced with a whirlwind of doubts and insecurities, and every nerve on your body seemed to be on high alert while you watched him getting occupied with rubbing his entire length with lube, ensuring a smooth entrance inside you. 

He was nervous too, right? You couldn’t be the only one. You couldn’t be. 

You just wanted everything to be perfect. To show him how much you cared. To feel that you were enough. But the thought was paralyzing. Tonight was more than just physical intimacy; it was a step forward in your relationship, a moment of connection you wanted so badly to cherish. This first intimate encounter should be filled with love, respect, and mutual understanding. 

But what if after this, he’d come to realize that you weren’t the one? What if he’d get disappointed and tell you that you weren’t worth it? What if he’d leave you for someone else who could pleasure him better? What if, after you had given yourself to him, no one else would ever appreciate you anymore? 

You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted to feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the intimacy of your connection. You wanted to explore this uncharted territory with him, to dive headfirst into the unknown and discover what lay on the other side. But were you really ready for this? Did you truly want this? Would it be everything you had imagined, or would you regret losing your virginity to him?

The fear of inadequacy gnawed at your confidence as Sukuna positioned himself back in between you, his tip rubbing at your slit a couple times before he finally sunk it into your entrance. 

“Haaa—!” 

“Shh. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“N-No, I—!”

It felt like your walls were being stretched so painfully, like your flesh was being torn open in the most agonizing way. This was not the kind of pain you pictured out when he put his member inside. Sukuna even tried to grab hold of your hips to keep you steady, but you were withdrawing your hips back, wanting nothing but for him to remove his cock. 

“It hurts… It hurts… please, stop. Please!” 

“Baby, I’m trying to be gentle—”

“I SAID STOP!” 

Both of your eyes widened at the same time, and that was the only time you two were ever in sync. He was clearly shocked by your outburst, while you yourself were surprised at how you raised your voice at him. Neither of you expected that situation. As a result, he did pull away and completely withdrew himself from you. 

Frustration was evident on his visage and he couldn’t even hide it anymore. “Fuck this,” he spat in exasperation, taking a deep breath as he reached to slip his sweatpants back on. “I knew it.” 

“No, I…” You swallowed. “It just… You kinda forced it, I wasn’t ready.” 

“I forced it, really? I forced you?” His laugh was out of complete disbelief. “I never forced you into anything, angel. I’ve asked you since the beginning if this is really what you want.” He took a pause, a very uncomfortable one, before he went on murmuring, “It was just my tip and you’re overreacting like this. I’m not even halfway in.”

His agitation had finally awakened you to your senses, realizing that you did end up doing what you were scared of doing. You ruined the moment. You were so caught up in your bubble of negative thoughts that you had once again failed to fulfill what you were supposed to do. No wonder he was aggravated, now sitting away from you and wearing his clothes as if telling you that he was done. Done being blue balled by his own girlfriend. Done expecting something he was never really bound to have. 

You reached out to touch his arm. “Baby, I’m sorry… I just got scared, but we can still—”

“Still do it?” he continued your sentence by ironically cutting you off, “No, the fuck, I won’t. I’m not in the mood anymore.” 

His reaction brought tears to your eyes, because the way he was acting stung your fragile heart. You didn’t mean to ruin anything. More importantly, you didn’t wish for everything to just turn out like this. “I-I’m sorry. Let me try again, please.” 

The weakness of your voice seemed to have softened him, becoming calmer and more composed after a few minutes of contemplation, but he still held his ground when he massaged his temple and sighed. “Let’s just not push it, Y/N.” He looked at your eyes, with hurt and rejection reflecting on them. “Even if you say you wanna do it, you think I can’t see it in your face that you’re not really into it? You’re never ready for me and maybe it’s my fault, maybe there’s something about me that you’re so scared of. Maybe it’s because you don’t feel secure with me, maybe you wanna save yourself for someone better, someone who can give you a brighter future—”

“That’s not true!” You shook your head desperately, your eyes blurring from the pool of tears while you clung to his arm. Where was all this coming from? It sounded like he had been harboring those feelings for so long. “That’s not true. What are you even saying?” 

“I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just…” Trying to give a reason why you won’t give it to me. That must be what he had wanted to say. “Look, I don’t wanna pressure you into this bullshit anymore. I don’t wanna make it look like I’m begging for your affection like this. Intimacy should happen normally for couples, and if we can’t have that, then we can’t. That’s it.” 

Why did he sound like he was giving up? 

You tried to keep your emotions at bay while listening to him battling with his internal thoughts. “I understand I disappointed you tonight, but…”

He was adamant at shaking his head, distancing himself from you by getting up from the bed. “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for. It’s your body and your choice. I’d never force you into anything.” 

Then… then…

“I just think it’s not the perfect time,” he continued, shooting you a glance before looking away. Each step he took added another crack on your fragile heart. “From now on, I’m never gonna initiate anything intimate nor will I expect anything from you, aight? I’m over it.”

Alone in your vulnerability, you could feel the cold air hugging your naked body as you watched him walk towards the door, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. “Where a-are you going? Come on… Please.” 

He no longer cared to turn around. He no longer bothered to comfort you as he walked away, muttering, “Just gonna go for a ride. Don’t wait on me.” 

— —

Nearly three weeks had passed since that night and you would be lying if you said everything was okay. 

No, everything was not okay. You could feel the distance growing each day even when you two still did everything together. Your normal routines didn’t feel normal anymore because he was acting too detached ever since he told you that he wouldn’t initiate anything intimate ever again. And to be honest? It hurt. A whole fucking lot. Hearing your partner say that they would never wish to do anything intimate with you was probably the worst way to experience heartbreak. Because he was truthful with it, and he showed it very openly. 

Now, he’d lock the door whenever he would take showers. He’d spent most of his time outside riding his bike until midnight. He stopped texting you sweet messages while on tattoo shop duty. He seldomly joined you to eat breakfast and dinner together. His back would face you whenever you two slept in bed. His eyes avoided you even when you walked around in underwear. His hand wouldn’t touch you even when you were centimeters close to him. There were no kisses exchanged either, unless obliged to do so when leaving the house. No hugs. No hair-stroking, hand-holding sweetness ever shared. You were simply cohabiting in your shared apartment like strangers who had barely even said I love you’s. 

“Man, that’s rough,” remarked Suguru Getou, your cousin and the barista, as he tidied up the counter behind the elevated bar. Having just served his friend an Americano, he listened intently as you vented about your situation with Sukuna. “I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. It’s not looking good for you.”

You knew that. You just refused to acknowledge it. “I mean, all couples fight.” 

Suguru shook his head, however. “You two aren’t even fighting. Dude just gave up and started detaching himself from you. If that’s not a sign already, then I don’t know what is.” 

“What sign?” you asked, hiding the obvious worry in your voice. You need not be dense about his words, but you wanted to have some kind of hope to grasp on. 

“Sign that he’s falling out of love?” he continued. 

And somehow, his white-haired friend thought it would be okay to chime in. “More like a sign that the tool's not interested anymore and is about to dump her.”

Your face felt hot and in the most terrible way. “Sorry, what was your name again?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You hadn’t expected the guy to suddenly chime in, considering he had been quietly typing on his laptop just moments before. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, so don’t go listening to somebody else’s business when you’re not part of the conversation.”

“Jeez,” said the albino guy, grinning at your cousin as if amused by your barrage of a response. “She’s a yapper, too. I thought she was supposed to be this sweet and innocent type, Suguru?”

“Not always.” Suguru chuckled at his friend before turning to you, apologetic eyes now attempting to soothe your nerves. “Sorry ‘bout that, Y/N. Satoru just likes to tease people. Don’t mind him.”  

You kept a straight face. “Well, then maybe tell your friend to keep his nose out of conversations he’s not invited to.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Satoru gave you a playful salute before extending his hand towards you. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I actually sympathize with you. If it were me, I’d never do that to you, baby.”

Oh, God. You were so bad at this. Was he flirting with you or was he simply playful like this? 

Nevertheless, you rolled your eyes and ignored the hand he offered, essentially brushing off his advances. “I don’t need sympathy. All I’m here for is to talk to my cousin to try and have his advice on the matter,” you emphasized pointedly, making it clear to Satoru that he was the last person you wanted advice from. “I don’t need a stranger listening to my personal life.” 

“Doesn’t hurt to receive advice from another guy,” countered Satoru, shrugging. “Right, Suguru? I mean, we’re both guys. We can give you some insight into how men think.” 

You felt the urge to bury your face in your hands. It was clearly a mistake going there and putting yourself in that situation, and now having two guys aware of your sex life with your boyfriend. That alone was so wrong on many levels. But could it be helped? Suguru was your closest cousin, the only one who didn’t turn his back on you after you left your parents’ home. He was working at a cafe three blocks away from your flower shop and you happened to be delivering a batch of fresh floral decorations for their cafe. You obviously found it a good opportunity to open up to him about your struggling relationship and hoped he could offer some male perspective on Sukuna’s behavior. You just hadn’t anticipated his friend eavesdropping on the conversation the entire time.

Well, that should have been expected anyway, since only the three of you were in that cafe on a lazy Wednesday afternoon. 

“I don’t kiss and tell, by the way.” Satoru was beaming as he gave you that assurance and you couldn’t help but admit that the man had some charm in him. He was attractive, no doubt about it. He was also tall, toned, and seemingly well off based on the way he dressed. He had a casual yet preppy style, something you would normally see from guys who went to private school. 

“Do you work?” you asked out of sheer curiosity. “You don’t seem like the type.” 

“Oh, now she’s interested.” Satoru seemed to have found your sudden interest in him humorous. “I’m finishing my MBA, miss. Thank you for asking.”

“He’s a privileged rich kid with generational wealth and a family business,” Suguru remarked, playfully gesturing a cutting motion across his neck. “Definitely not your type, huh, Y/N?”

“Why, what’s her type?” The white-haired man looked intrigued, pulling his stool closer. He had that stupid grin on his face as though the topic just sparked his curiosity. “What’s her boyfriend like?”

Suguru, who wanted to play along, jokingly hummed in deep thought. “He’s got tattoos, likes to tattoo other people, is a college dropout, rides a big bike, smokes and drinks, listens to heavy metal, was probably a delinquent and a juvie alumni—”

“Excuse you, he’s never been in a juvenile detention center,” you defended your man, feeling like your cousin’s categorization of Sukuna was becoming a little too derogatory and you had to correct him for that, “and he’s a good man. He’s sweet and caring, he’s passionate, and he loves me sincerely.” 

“Sincerely, not?” Satoru quipped, earning your glare in return. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. “I'm just joking. If you believe he’s all that, that’s your choice. I don’t judge booktok girls who romanticize typical bad boys.”

You rolled your eyes at his audacity. Each word that left his mouth seemed to stoke the flames of your irritation. “You’re so offensive, I’ll have you know that.” 

The white-haired guy smugly took a sip from his coffee. “At least I don’t make girls feel guilty for not having sex with me.” 

“Oooh.” Suguru was clearly enjoying the show, unaware that you were one step closer from smacking his friend across the face. “Touché. He kinda has a point, Y/N.” 

“Be serious,” you warned. 

To which he agreed to. “Okay, I am being serious now,” he said, abandoning his playful stance to lean in on a more solemn posture against the counter, “If you think Sukuna makes you feel guilty for not doing it with him, then shouldn’t that speak for the kind of relationship you two have? He wants something you can’t give. His reaction tells you everything you need to know about him.” 

You tried to absorb his words with a better understanding and without any bias. “Isn’t his reaction normal? He’s a man, too. I understand his needs and I made him feel somewhat rejected.”

“It’s all about respect, Y/N,” answered Suguru, “If he’s a decent man, he wouldn’t make you feel that way. No mixed signals, no guilt tripping, no nothing. If you can’t do it, then don’t.” 

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t feel the same if your girlfriend keeps rejecting sex with you?” 

Suguru smirked. “I never said I’m a decent man, either. All I’m saying is if what you want isn’t exactly aligned to what he wants, then maybe it’s best you break it off with him because this shit won’t get you anywhere, Y/N. Trust me. He’s gonna dump you before you know it. I mean, it’s one thing to pretend he’s all fine with it, and it’s another to distance himself from you like he’s silently protesting.” 

“Yeah, that’s true,” Satoru joined in once again. “It’s impossible for a guy like that to be in a relationship for so long and not have any pussy. We think of sex 24/7, some of us are just better at restraining ourselves than others. He’s putting up with it now, but it’s only a matter of time he gets sick and tired of waiting. You do realize he can get any girl he wants, anytime he wants, right?” 

Although you were still uncomfortable at Satoru casually chiming in on the conversation, it was true when they said they could give you the exact male perspective you needed to hear. This allowed you to go deeper into Sukuna’s psyche and understand why he was acting that way. You just didn’t know how to save the connection you have with your boyfriend when both your cousin and his friend were describing all the red flags on Sukuna’s behavior. 

“I don’t know,” you spoke in a tone of defeat. “I kinda understand where he’s coming from, so I can’t just leave him for it. I love him.”

Satoru looked at your cousin like you couldn’t be saved. “She’s in too deep.” 

“Yeah, gaslighted as fuck.” Suguru was shaking his head in disappointment. 

The taller man chuckled and brought up a ridiculous offer to lighten the situation up. “Honestly, Y/N. I know we just met and all, but if you ever need someone to teach you how to do good in bed, just hit me up. He’ll never know.” 

“Shut up,” you shot back at Satoru, eyes rolling at his remark. 

“You’re out here feeling bad for that guy when he could be fucking his clients at the tattoo shop.”

You argued. “No, he’s not—”

“Are you sure he isn’t?” 

It wasn’t Suguru nor Satoru who posed that question; it was Yuki Tsukumo, the café’s manager and Suguru's respected senior. She was in a relationship with one of your boyfriend’s stepbrothers, Choso, and was also a fellow biker, which allowed her to cross paths with Sukuna in their community. Despite this connection, she was never particularly close to him. In fact, Yuki didn’t personally get along with Sukuna and she was very vocal about it. She was, however, a regular client of yours and ordered floral arrangements from your shop on a weekly basis.

It had been awhile since you last saw her, and didn’t expect that the first greeting you would give her was a question. “Yuki, what do you mean?” 

Great. Now, three people know about your relationship quagmires. 

She was placing her helmet at the counter and sitting on a stool before answering you, “I really think you should talk to him about it, Y/N.” 

No, no. Why did you suddenly feel a pang of anxiety out of nowhere? Something about the sympathy in Yuki’s eyes felt unsettling, and it sent a wave of fear through you. She definitely knew something. What was Sukuna doing behind your back?

“Can you please just tell me?” 

Her gaze studied your face intently, as if deliberating on the right thing to do. “Well... I spotted him riding with a girl the other night. Initially, I thought it might be you, but last night, I saw them together again. I recognized her... because it was his ex. I think he’s been giving her rides home lately.” 

Amidst the quiet of the room, your heart felt like it was breaking in two. The sudden revelation sent you into an abyss of pain.

“You might wanna visit his tattoo shop later.” Yuki encouraged me with a comforting smile. “It may be best to confront him about it.”

— —

Sukuna wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. It wasn’t like he was purposely avoiding you, but he just didn’t feel comfortable acting like everything was fine and dandy. Because if he was damn honest, the sexual frustration was fucking with his head. So much so to the point where he started questioning himself if he should still put up with a relationship like this. 

First of all, there were pros and cons involved. He had to consider that it was a special connection filled with special memories, too. 

If he was talking about the pros, he knew he would have a loving lifetime partner with you. You were beautiful, kind, and pure. You inspired him and motivated him to be better. You were unmaterialistic and happy with the littlest things. You gave his dominant side the urge to be a better man, like he was made to protect and provide for you. You became his muse; a blank canvas that was all for him to paint on. A canvas that no one had ever touched. Or, in your world, a white lily that was associated with chastity and virtue. 

But then, there were also cons, and the foremost of it being you were too conservative for your own good. You grew up in a strict environment with uptight parents who wanted to control your life. He could never voice it out, but he really hated that you were square like your parents sometimes. You were too traditional and afraid to explore new experiences, oftentimes policing him for living his life as free as he wanted it to be. The ‘opposites attract’ thing did seem to work in your relationship at first, with your differences being exciting for each other, but as time went by, it became clearer to him that you two were too different to actually be in sync together. 

Hence why your relationship became rigid and suffocating, forcing him to take a breather by distancing himself from you for some time. He did this for your benefit, because he had to clear his head before risking losing you for good. He didn’t want to jeopardize a relationship that he knew meant the world to him. Perhaps this was just a phase, a challenging period following the honeymoon phase, where all your differences seemed to become more pronounced.

But to repeatedly make him look forward to sharing intimacy with you, only for you to back out at the very last minute? Man, was that so frustrating. 

It didn’t help that it was destiny itself that seemed to be stirring the pot. Because while you two were going through a rough time in your relationship, the irony presented itself outside of Sukuna’s tattoo shop late at night just as he was about to close. 

“Ryo?” A tall woman with athletic build, long dark hair, and beautiful doe eyes came into view with a wide smile on her face. 

His ex-girlfriend of three years. 

Sukuna held the door for her albeit the confusion in his eyes. “Yorozu?” 

The only difference he noticed was that she had become a lot sexier, with the curves on her body more womanly than ever. It was obvious that she was active in the gym to achieve such a fit physique. But other than that, her facial features were the same. Her heart eyes still shone bright at the mere sight of him, as if they carried stars and galaxies. 

“I think I came too late,” said Yorozu, smiling in disappointment, “I should probably just return tomorrow.” 

“No, you’re good.” Sukuna insisted on letting her enter his shop, closing the door as soon as she was inside. “What brought you here?” 

She stood confidently in front him, wearing nothing but a blank tank top and some loose white pants. “Funny story ‘cause I actually just moved to this city recently and I just found out you had a shop in this area.” 

Oh? That was interesting, indeed. Sukuna wondered how she even found his shop in that case, while he was leading her to the tattoo chair. “Are you here to get a tattoo or?” 

“Yeah, yeah I am.” She was sprinkling some charm in her grin. He knew her too well. “I think it’s amazing that I’m gonna get it from you again.”

While Yorozu was talking to him, he couldn’t help but ask: was it wrong for him to be in the same vicinity as his ex? Considering how jealous you could get, this was definitely wrong in your eyes. But as he wasn’t doing anything sketchy, he figured there was nothing wrong about what he was doing. Yorozu was technically a client and he couldn’t deny her his services since she was basically a friend of his, too. So, was he breaking any code here? 

“Well, only if you have time now, of course,” she added out of consideration, “It’s kinda late so I can always come back.” 

Sukuna shook his head and headed to get his book of tattoo art samples. “It’s fine. I got clients lined up all day tomorrow, so,” he said, placing the book on her lap, “You wanna check that or do you have a design in mind already?” 

Yorozu’s eyes fell on the tattoos marking Sukuna’s body, her gaze landing on every familiar inch as though she had seen them all the time before. It was true. She had seen more of him, actually. She had done more with his body, too. “I kinda wanna get a sleeve, but I want you to choose the design for me.” 

A tattoo sleeve? Damn. It was something he would never in a million years see from you, but for Yorozu, it was totally normal. She was as obsessed with ink as he was. And although she’s had a couple of tattoos in her body already, which were done by him, it would be her first time to get a full sleeve. 

“I get to choose, really?” Sukuna chuckled lightly. If he were to think of Yorozu’s traits, she was definitely a classic red rose. A seductress, alluring woman was how he saw her and the said flower would be a true-to-life representation of her personality. She was passionate when it came to loving someone, and was completely devoted to him back when they were together. The only reason they broke up was because they were too similar, as if she was his counterpart, and he saw fit to leave a relationship where they both constantly battled for dominance. Yorozu could get too aggressive on loving someone and he didn’t particularly like that. He made her understand why they weren’t working as a couple, and it took her some time, but she eventually accepted his decision. Now, you could say, they were somehow on good terms. “Alright, I’ll do your sleeve, but I’ll keep the design as a surprise.” 

Her eyes sparkled in excitement at the thought. “I’d love that!” 

“Since you want a sleeve, we’re gonna do some stencil application today.” Sukuna didn’t waste any more time in getting ready with his equipment, biting on the glove while wearing the other on his hand. “It’ll take fifteen to twenty hours to complete a sleeve, and each session could last two to six hours depending on your pain tolerance. My schedule’s actually full all day until next week, but you can come around the same time every night so I can finish yours.” 

“Yeah, I’m absolutely fine with that,” she enthused. For some reason, Yorozu was happy with the idea. The idea of coming to visit Sukuna every night in his shop. The idea that they get to be alone. The idea that they would be able to reconnect just like old times. Those were the things that Sukuna assumed was going through her head. 

And as he did start with his ‘client’, it was probably best to admit that the sexual tension was high. The room felt stuffy as the both of them remained there until midnight, with her sitting on the tattoo chair, and him doing her tattoo to her left. His eyes were intently focused on the intricate patterns he was doing on her arm, but also couldn’t avoid seeing the contours of her breasts since she was wearing such a thin tank top. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. He’d seen every part of her body from her neck down to her toes. He’d put her in every position from missionary to doggy. Goddamn, he could even remember how warm she felt around his cock. Didn’t she like it when he came inside her? Or when he made her swallow every drop of his seed? 

Sukuna cleared his throat, shaking his vulgar thoughts away as he continued with Yorozu’s arm. He may not be cheating, but thinking back on those intimate experiences with someone else other than his girlfriend was definitely not morally right either. But what sexual experience could he reminisce about with you? That ridiculously embarrassing night you two had shouldn’t even be counted since he was trying so hard to forget about it. 

He cleared his throat. Again. For the third time. “What, uh, what’ve you been up to?” 

Yorozu, who had no clue about his thoughts, turned her face to look at him happily. “Not much, actually. The bar I worked at closed down, but I got myself a new job in this club as a full time hostess and part-time promoter. You should come by. Drinks on me.” 

By not exactly accepting or refusing, Sukuna decided to just smile it off. “That’s why you moved to this city?” 

“Yeah, I mean… obviously, the rent here is higher, but it’s closer to my job. I get paid decently, too.” 

“That’s nice.” He was just trying to make small talk at this point. “Do you know your way ‘round here? How are you gonna get home?” 

She considered her options. “Probably a bus or something?” 

Sukuna paused, contemplating the situation. “There's no bus here at midnight,” he remarked, concerned for the girl who would have to navigate her way home alone at such a late hour. She was new to the area and clearly still adjusting to the commuter lifestyle. Unlike her, he had a vehicle that could safely transport her home. There would be no harm in offering, right? “Look, I have a bike and I usually take midnight rides, anyway. I can drop you off on my way home.”

“Really?” Her voice echoed excitement in them. “I’d appreciate it, Ryo. Thanks so much.” 

Life was ironic, truly. He didn’t see this situation coming because he never expected that he would even come across Yorozu ever again. They didn’t have any contact prior, but he still saw her on social media whenever he (on very rare occasions) decided to check his accounts. He never had her blocked, either, which was why you knew about Yorozu after snooping through his phone and reading through some of his old messages with her. Sukuna used to tell you not to worry about her, and that she was just his ex, and that she had nothing on you—which were all true, of course, but it was funny to him now that the woman his girlfriend was most threatened by was back in his life. 

And she was riding at the backseat of his motorbike, her arms latching at nothing else but around his torso. She was seated at the seat reserved for you, wearing the helmet that was bought for you, and holding onto a man that was rightfully yours. It all didn’t feel right. 

But because Yorozu delighted in his habit of speeding on the highway, he had somehow forgotten about the guilt that was forming in his heart. 

**

“You still have your ex’s Instagram?” Your questioning eyes met his defensive ones as he joined you in the living room, finding his space on the couch next to you. “I read your dms. Why haven’t you blocked her?” 

Sukuna’s breath remained steady. “Only toxic people do that shit.” 

“But I’m not comfortable with it!” you nagged, letting him snatch his phone from your grasp. 

“Do you see me talking to her still?” he asked, trying to be as patient as he could be, “Baby, I don’t even talk to her. I don’t think she’s active there, either.” 

You crossed your arms. “Then, block her?” 

“You’re being ridiculous.” 

“I’m being fair. You shouldn’t be keeping tabs with an ex.” 

“What are you—” Sukuna decided to cut his own sentence after realizing that the argument was plain stupid. “You know what, I’ll just delete my insta.” 

**

“How many times do you two do it?” you asked out of nowhere, sitting at the waiting area while he was closing his shop. “Your ex. How often do you have sex with her?” 

What kind of trap were you setting now? If he told you an honest answer, you would get mad. If he lied or even sugar coated it, you would also get mad. 

“Does it matter? Why do you keep asking questions about her and then get upset with me?” Sukuna’s frustration resonated in his sigh as he tidied the space where he tattooed his client a few minutes ago. “She’s an ex for a reason, so get over it.”

He was starting to get annoyed by your never-ending questions about his past experiences, but he knew you were simply coming from a place of no experience. You probably wanted to know what he liked in bed, what pleased him the most, what kept him from wanting more. Was that too much? No. Were you overdoing this entire thing? A little bit. 

“Why are you defensive?” you asked softly, still sitting on the couch as you watched him avoid your eyes. “You make me feel so insecure every time.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned around. “I don’t know, baby. If you’re feeling insecure, then do something about it.” 

**

“Thanks so much for the ride, Ryo.” 

Yorozu stood by her door, returning the helmet back to him while she kept her eyes locked on his. Her gaze was inviting, tempting him to give in and submit to his carnal desires. Any man would read her intentions the same way; Yorozu stared at him like that because she wanted to invite him to her place. She wanted him to spend the night and do unforgivable things. To remember the passionate exchange they once shared. 

But Sukuna wasn’t like that. No, he wasn’t a cheater. “I, uh, gotta get going.” 

“Oh…” Disappointment clouded Yorozu’s face. “Okay, then.” 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“...Alright.” 

“Okay.” 

“Wait!” Yorozu pulled his arm just as he was heading back to his motorbike. The sudden closeness in their proximity made his heart race fast. He knew what was coming. “I missed you, Ryo.” 

He knew what she was about to do next. 

And holy fuck did he guess right, as he was taken aback when Yorozu suddenly leaned in to press her lips onto his. Her soft, cherry lips moved desperately to taste his sweet kisses. 

But he didn’t return it. Instead, he immediately pushed her away. “Yorozu,” he spoke softly, “I have a girlfriend.” 

“You do?” She didn’t need to hide it. He could see the heartbreak on her face. 

“Yeah,” Sukuna confirmed, maintaining a more appropriate distance now. “We’ve been together for some time, and I live with her.”

Yorozu tried to maintain her facade of indifference, making it appear as though she was unfazed by his revelation. “That’s... That’s cool,” she said, “I’m sorry for, uh, the kiss.”

Sukuna nodded, “It’s fine. I should’ve told you sooner.”

“You’re alright,” she reassured him, “It's totally my fault. I hope she won’t be upset with you or something.”

Sukuna had no plans to tell you, knowing well the additional turmoil it would bring to your already strained relationship. However, he realized the importance of clarity in his intentions and the need to set boundaries. “We’re just friends. We’ll keep things civil. I’ll finish your tattoo in a couple more sessions, and then we’re done. Sounds fair?”

Yorozu nodded her head with a reluctant smile. “Fair enough.” 

— —

5 more days. Her sleeve required five more sessions, and days went by too fast for him to count. He had busied himself with his clients, while you had busied yourself with yours. He couldn’t even spend time with you because his shop took a chunk of his time from him, and even at home, things had become too awkward ever since your unspoken night. 

So, in some ways, Yorozu became his routine. She visited his shop for the past four nights and he had taken her home afterwards. She was in absolute love with her rose sleeve and they weren’t even complete yet. He still owed her one last session and told himself that it should also be the last time she should be around him. It wasn’t right and he didn’t want to create another source of argument with you. 

And in truth, he certainly felt a little guilty for spending more time with his ex than his own girlfriend. But did he purposely do it? No, it was fate that brought her to his door about a week ago. 

In spite of his stubbornness to admit his wrongdoing, he still ended up stopping by the flower market to get you a nice bouquet of white lilies. He knew you could make a prettier bouquet than that, but he thought it would be a perfect opportunity to surprise you with flowers that didn’t exactly come from you. Besides, he had some making up to do. 

Later that night, when he returned to your shared home, he found you sitting at the couch seemingly waiting for him to come home. The lights were dimmed and the television was turned off. For some reason, you were wearing outside clothes and had a somber expression on your face, too. That alone caused the loud thumping of his heart. 

“Hey,” he greeted, nonetheless, sitting next to you on the couch and kissing your cheek. “Everything okay, baby?” 

Your eyes carried sadness in them as you looked at him and searched for answers you couldn’t find. “Where were you?” 

Sukuna handed the bouquet over. “Got you flowers.” 

You didn’t accept them. Instead, every second seemed to torture you. “Where were you before that?” 

“In the shop…?” He didn’t know where to start, but he was definitely scared. “Why? Sorry I’ve been busy lately. I’ll make it up to you, angel.” 

“You close your shop at nine,” you pointed out, voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “Why do you always come home at two in the morning?” 

Fuck. Fuck! What should he say? Should he make an excuse for it? Should he say he’d been checking on Yuuji after his shifts? Should he say he’d been riding to other cities to clear his mind? He didn’t fucking know what to say, especially not when you were clearly on the verge of bursting out. 

“Answer me!” you cried, finally releasing the bottle out in the open. The tears that welled in your eyes now streamed ceaselessly down your face. “You’re an asshole. I-I hate you! I fucking… you think I don’t know? You think I’m too stupid to know?!”

Sukuna calmly received the fists you had swung on his chest as he tried to grab ahold of your arms. “Baby, I’ll explain everything.” 

“No, damn y-you!” The tremor in your voice squeezed his heart in the most painful way because he hated seeing you breaking down in front of him and over him. This wasn’t the first time he had made you cry, but this was the first time he had seen you actually sob like this. “I-I gave myself to you! I left my p-parents for you! And this is what you do to me? You’re cheating on me with your ex?!” 

He was desperate to hold you, hug you, cage you in his arms. He wanted to take your pain away. Wipe your tears away. However, you didn’t allow him to touch even a strand on your hair as you kept on pushing him off. Sukuna felt like he was going to lose his mind. “Baby, listen to me please. It’s really not what you think—”

“I don’t care!” you spat, moving away to wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t fucking care! You sleeping with her or not doesn’t change a thing. Don’t you get it? I’ll never be enough for you!” Despite your loud voice, the cracks in her facade only revealed your longing for validation and acceptance, etching into every tear-stained moment you two had shared over the course of your relationship. He watched you, paralyzed by the sight of you breaking down, as you grabbed a luggage you had been hiding behind the couch as if you were ready to leave. “I’ll never be the person you want me to be and staying with you will always remind me of it!” 

“No, no, no… Let’s talk.” Sukuna had to suppress his own tears while he tried to reach out for you. “Baby, please. I don’t feel anything for her, or anyone. It’s just you. You are enough for me, baby. I’m sorry, please.” 

You, on the other hand, were adamant at your decision. “I can’t stand what you’re doing to me anymore. I don’t like how you make me feel about myself. I hate how you make me question my own choices!” Tears continued to flow, and your voice wavered, transitioning from anger to a more subdued, pained tone. “I hate… I hate that I love you so much, that I lost all my backbone just to make you happy.” 

“You don’t need to.” He was feeling more and more miserable now, his heart sore from all the emotions he had seen from you. “Y/N, you don’t need to. I’m sorry, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”  

…

…

…

“It’s over, Sukuna,” were the last words he could recall hearing before passing out drunk in his bed that afternoon. “We’re done.”

— —

It was your first heartbreak. Your first actual relationship. Your first everything. Surely, people shouldn’t expect you to move on easily, especially not when the subject of your heartache worked across the street from you. 

You were a mess. You had cried enough tears after you moved out of his apartment that night, screamed your heart out as you suffered from the pain of loneliness once more. You couldn’t even bear the thought of returning to your parents and hearing them say they told you so, because loving Sukuna was a choice you thought was good for you. 

In the end, he was just a poison without any antidote. A toxin without remedy. The most effective solution was to sever all ties to prevent further contamination.

But strangely enough, you hadn’t seen him in his shop ever since that night, either. The tattoo parlor remained closed for more than two weeks without any notice. While a small part of you worried for him, a bigger part of you cared for yourself. He no longer held any importance to your life, and you should let it remain that way. 

What you should focus on, instead, was living your life without any trace of him. A life of independence, away from the toxicity of a manipulative man who constantly made you doubt yourself and what you offered. As they say, you have to learn to love yourself first before you can fully learn to love others. 

And in your journey of knowing the truth of that saying, a certain white-haired man entered your floral shop on a somber Friday afternoon just as you were arranging preordered bouquets for multiple customers to pick up. 

“Hey,” you greeted the man, surprised at his sudden appearance at your shop. 

Satoru grinned as he approached you closer. “I’m here to pick up two bouquets.”

“Oh, it was your order?” Your eyes widened. Silly you. Of course, Suguru would order on his friend’s behalf. He wouldn’t even get his girlfriend some flowers, let alone his mother. So this being Satoru’s order made much more sense. “Okay, you got a bouquet of blush peonies and another bouquet of pink tulips, am I correct?”

He smiled handsomely, displaying his set of perfect white teeth while listening to you talk. “Correct.” 

“For your mom?” you asked before you made your way to pick up the bouquets, handing them to him carefully. 

His response came with a soft, affirmative hum. “Mhm. One for her,” he said, taking only the bouquet of tulips, “The other is for you.” 

Oh, no, no, definitely no. You had seen this before and it didn’t go well. 

“That’s lovely, but…” You offered a smile. “I’m not taking those peonies.” 

Satoru acted innocent, his vibrant blue eyes coruscating under the ambient lights. “But it’s mother’s day.” 

You playfully shook your head. “I’m not even a mother.”

“Yes, you are,” he went on teasing, “the mother of my future kids. I like to think in advance, you know.” 

Honestly? This man started off with a bad impression on you, but he wasn’t actually so bad. He was an easygoing, happy-go-lucky person who carried positive energy around him. That, and he was decent, too. He was the type of guy your parents would have surely approved of. He was a degree holder like you, even pursuing graduate studies to run a business that was already generating an income that you could only imagine of getting. He was set for life with no uncertainty with what he wanted for his future. 

“Satoru?”

He met your gaze. “Yeah?”

“About your offer last time,” you recalled, recalling his earlier jest about teaching you some things in bed, “I think I'd like to take you up on that.”