#spoilers but the time travelling but still working together

[ly2cheeart]

Based off the Your Name poster ^^

[scarletmika]

Stay With Me : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds/Sentry x Ex-Widow!Reader

Summary: Bob wants to feel useful, to truly be part of the team, but the others don't think he's ready. You take it upon yourself to teach him control, to guide him through. But mistakes will be made, and it might not be possible to keep the darkness from creeping back in once more.

Warnings: fluff, angst, idiots in love, violence, death, language, SPOILERS I guess for Thunderbolts*

Word Count: 5,292 words PART TWO: Always : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

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“I really don’t think this is a good idea,”

To be fair, Yelena Belova had every right to be apprehensive of your idea. It had only been a few months since The New Avengers had been formally established, and the team itself was still finding its groove working together. Standing up to Valentina and saving Bob from himself? That was one thing. Receiving missions from Valentina’s team, having to travel the globe in order to save innocent civilians? That was a whole other can of worms that they’d popped open without thinking of the consequences.

The amount of missions the team was needed on was slowly ramping up, going from just two a month to now almost four in just the last month. The entire team wasn’t always needed for certain mission: Bucky, Yelena and yourself had been sent on solo missions, while Alexei had tagged along with John and Ava on others (much to their dismay at times). There was always one agreed-upon rule: Bob was staying in the Watchtower.

It’s not that the team didn’t want Bob with them, because everyone did. They knew he wanted to feel wanted and feel useful, that he didn’t want to simply do the dishes after dinner every night and read through every book that had accumulated in his room. The problem came down to control. When they had fully explained what had happened that day in New York to him, the Void and how he became his worst fears, the small sense of control he seemed to have over his powers had slipped. His worst fear had quickly become losing control once again and hurting his team, hurting the people of the city.

You, though, had another idea.

“I think it’s time, Lena,” you tried to reason with her that night in the kitchen, the pair of you working on the load of dirty dishes together. Yelena cleaned while you dried them and put them away, working in tandem just as you had for many years within the Red Room, memories you both wanted to forget. “Bob is capable of controlling it, I know he is, he just needs help. Just let me train him, show him some basics and help him find that sense of control again.”

“And if he loses control? If the Void takes over his mind again?”

“I’m not scared of him,”

Yelena scoffed, shooting a smirk toward her oldest friend before focusing back on the dishes before them, hoping to finish them sooner rather than later.

“Just because you have a little soft spot for Bob doesn’t mean your idea is the best idea,”

“I’m not asking any of you to help me,” you shot back, bumping your hip against hers with a pointed look for her comment about your soft spot for Bob. “Just trust that I can do it. I believe in Bob, and that’s enough for me to try.”

Yelena paused at the sink, quietly watching as you placed the dishes up into the cabinet where they typically went, and let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“Fine, but it’s on you if it goes wrong,”

“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Convincing Yelena was the part that you knew would be easy. You’d grown up just houses down from her, Natasha and Alexei, kept there under the watchful eye of your own Red Room spy posing as your mother. You’d escaped America with them, been trained through the Red Room and escaped mind control with Yelena by your side, and brought down Dreykov once and for all with her, too. There weren’t many people Yelena trusted in the world, but you were one of the very few. You knew it might take slight convincing, but she’d ultimately trust your judgement in the end.

Now, convincing Bob was a whole other story, one you knew wouldn’t be easy.

“No uh, no way,” you sighed, watching Bob pace his bedroom and wring his hands together. He glanced at you for just a second before shaking his hand again. “Using my powers means being the Sentry and I can’t be the Sentry without…you know…”

“And it’s been months since there’s been any incident, Bob,” you tried to explain to him softly. Without giving him a chance to pull away you reached forward, silently taking his tense hands in your own and squeezing them. “Look, you’re holding my hands and I’m not being transported into any shame room!”

Bob tried his best to laugh at your attempt to lighten his mood. His cheeks flushed a bright red as he pulled his hands from your own, shaking his head as he sat back down on his bed, picking back up the book he had been reading before you’d come in and pitched your idea to him.

You took a deep breath, wracking your brain for any idea to hopefully convince Bob that this was good for him, that learning control again would be good. The cover of the book in his hands distracted you, a smile crossing your lips in an instant as you recognized it.

“I remember buying that for you last month, along with the rest of the series,” you told him gently, sitting down on the bed beside him and gesturing to the book. “Seems like you’re enjoying it, since I’m pretty sure that’s book three.”

“It’s not bad. Helps pass the time,” Bob shrugged, looking back to you with a shy smile. “You have good taste.”

With a shared smile between you both, you bumped your shoulder with his lightly, glancing down at the book before looking back to his eyes. God, were you fond of those blue eyes.

“You trusted my book recommendations…can you trust me on anything else?”

Bob didn’t hesitate before speaking again.

“I trust you more than anyone,”

The way he said it, so sure of himself, made your smile grow even wider.

“Then trust me when I tell you that this could be good for you. Learning control again will help you, even just the smallest bit of practice and control can be good for you. Please, just try? For me?”

It was quiet between you both for a moment, eyes never leaving one another, before Bob’s voice came out softer than it had before.

“Yeah…yeah, okay. Let’s try,”

It was a process…a long process to say the least. It took almost two weeks before you could even get Bob fully comfortable in the full gym that tower had for him to even consider channeling his powers again. He never liked going to the training room when John and Alexei were there, Walker always managing to make snide comments toward Bob. You knew Walker cared, he just hated wearing it on his sleeve and masked it instead, but that didn’t mean you appreciated the small remarks.

Instead, you’d gotten Bob comfortable with heading to the training room whenever Bucky and Ava were sparring, the pair tending to leave you both alone unlike your other friends.

“I know you can do it. Just focus on it, channel your energy into it, and command your mind to do what you want it to do,”

You didn’t have an extension range of powers the way that Bob did, so you weren’t entirely sure that what you were instructing Bob to do was actually helpful to helping him learn control, or even get comfortable with his powers again. But he was trying, and that was enough for you.

Bob took a deep breath beside you, focusing in on the 20 pound medicine ball on the ground across the room from the two of you. He held his hand out, making your mind flashback to that day in the tower when you were forced to fight against him, something you had refused to do, and you saw the furrow in his brows as he tried to focus in and command the ball to move. There was silence in the room, besides the sound of Ava and Bucky talking across the room.

You watched Bob in silence as he seemed to grow more frustrated, desperately trying to move the ball across the room toward you both. You placed your hand on his arm, thumb gently rubbing across his skin in the most gentle and comforting way you could muster, tone hushed as you spoke just to him.

“You can do this Bob, just focus. You can do it,”

The tenseness in his body seemed to leave him at your words and your touch. Bob pulled his hand back in toward him, and for just a second, he was delighted as the weighted exercise ball finally moved across the floor.

Until it stopped just an inch after moving.

Bob’s head was buried in his hands in seconds, and you could see the deep flush in his cheeks through the cracks in his fingers as he mumbled to himself. You couldn’t entirely hear him, but you could make out the words “mistake” and “useless” clear as day as your hand made its way to his back, rubbing it comfortingly.

John Walker’s obnoxious laughter from the doorway cut through the silence of the room before you could encourage Bob to try again.

“Wow! I thought after a few weeks you’d have his control and powers in better shape there, Widow,” John whistled, stepping slightly further in through the doorway. You could hear Ava mumbling to Bucky about how this wouldn’t but good, but John didn’t seem to care. “I mean an inch! Wow! I mean hey, it’s not all about size right?”

“Walker, that’s enough-”

You tuned out Bucky’s scolding of John, looking back to Bob. His hands had left his face, his eyes trained on the ground, as he continued to mumble to himself about how he was useless. Your blood boiled in an instant, reaching down to take one of Bob’s hands in your own and squeeze it in comfort as you turned your glare back to John.

“Hey Walker? How about you shut it, yeah? If I wanted to hear an ass’s opinion I’d take myself down to the zoo and ask the fucking donkeys,”

John laughed again, shrugging off Bucky as he tried to place a hand on his shoulder, pointing over at you. Your hand tightened around Bob’s as he did.

“Want to say that again, Widow?”

“Ex-Widow, thank you very much. You should remember that your dick belongs in your pants and not in your personality,”

“Keep running your mouth. This little experiment here of yours isn’t good for anyone. Just because you’ve got a little soft spot for Bobby boy here doesn’t mean-”

Walker was cut off as the medicine ball Bob had been trying to move was flung across the room, narrowly missing his head and embedding itself in the doorframe behind him, shattering and splintering the wood and burying itself in the wall. Ava’s gasp was the only other sound as Bucky grabbed Walker almost by the back of his neck, shoving him out of the room with a gruff comment of “let’s go” as Ava followed behind.

Your eyes finally left the piece of exercise equipment now one with the wall of the room, gaze turning back to Bob. His hand was held up in the direction the ball had flown, but it was shaking slightly. You trailed your gaze up to his eyes to see he was already looking down at you, eyes blown wide as she stammered over his words.

“I wasn’t, that- that was a mistake. I didn’t- I really didn’t mean to do that he was, he was just- he’s such an asshole sometimes-”

Your laughter cut him off, pausing him in the middle of his tracks as you gripped his hand tighter, forehead falling against his shoulder as he stiffened for a moment, before relaxing and smiling slightly at the sound of your laughter ringing through the room.

“Oh my god, Bob, that was brilliant! I’m going to use that idea next time Walker decides to be a dick to mask his own troubles, that shut him right up!”

“I didn’t mean to, though,” he quickly backtracked, shaking his head as you lifted your head, looking up at him, though still holding his hand tightly. “It was a mistake.”

“Mistakes happen. We’re human, it’s natural,” she smiled at him, tilting her head toward the ball. “Now…do it again.”

Bob stared at her for a moment, truly trying to discern what he possibly could’ve done to deserve you. You’d stepped between him and Walker down in the vault, keeping the former Captain America from laying a hand on him, you’d almost died in the elevator shaft to make sure he didn’t. You’d refused to fight him that day in the penthouse, trying to bring him back, and it was ultimately you who was the first one to run to him and pull him back from the Void.

When he looked at you, he could feel the flutter in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. He knew what it meant, but he couldn’t find the words to say it. It was in thinking of that four letter word while staring down at you that he’d pulled the ball right back to the two of you, letting it hang in the air before you both for a moment before dropping it to the ground.

Your eyes had never left his, your smile only growing wider and your fingers slotting between his own.

“Not bad, Bob. Not bad,”

It was a month later that your idea would be fully put to the test.

HYDRA was the most stubborn organization, like an insect that just refused to die. Steve Rogers couldn’t stop them in the 40’s, and there was no stopping them now. They’d rebuilt momentum as an organization during the Blip, with cells popping up around the country. It didn’t take long for information to come in about their new main base; an underground compound hidden within the Five Ponds Wilderness in upstate New York. The New Avengers had been tasked with infiltrating and dismantling the base, taking in as many soldiers within for questioning by the US government, and recovering any intel that they’d managed to steal during their rebuild time.

It was an all hands on deck operation, the team knowing it was going to take all of them in order to fully infiltrate and dismantle this large base. In your eyes, that meant no one was sitting this one out.

“You guys handle dismantling and capturing soldiers. I’ll handle intel recovery…and I’m taking Bob with me,”

The comment had everyone at the briefing table pausing, including Bob, who had opted to sit in the corner of the room after you had asked him personally to attend the briefing with you.

John refused to meet your eyes, knowing his single apology weeks ago wasn’t enough to calm how angry you still were over the situation. Alexei and Ava shared concerned glances, while Bucky and Yelena seemed to have a conversation entirely with their eyes. The former Winter Soldier was the one to turn back to you, giving you a small nod.

“He’s ready?”

“I think he is,” you trailed your gaze over to Bob, giving him an encouraging smile. “The question is, do you think you’re ready?”

Bob looked at his teammates, his friends, seeing the apprehension in their eyes. But all it took was one look back to you, to the pride and encouragement shining in your gaze on him, that had him sitting up straighter.

“I am,”

It was that simple sentence that had Bob finding himself trekking through the wilderness of upstate New York behind you, decked out in a minimal tactical suit that the team had insisted he wear for the mission. He didn’t mind it, anything was better than that monstrosity that Valentina had put him in before.

“Is this normal?” Bob cautiously questioned you, stopping alongside you in a clearing in the woods you’d finally gotten to. “You know…splitting up? The team all uh, went another way didn’t they?”

“Our mission is intel recovery and intel recovery only, so it was easier for us to head through this separate entrance,” you explained, kneeling down in the leaves below your feet and brushing them away, revealing the steel door below your feet. You glanced up at him, smiling. “This should bring us closer to their control room, which minimizes the amount of fighting that we have to deal with.”

Both of you finally making your way through the hatch and down into the halls of the, Bob stuck close to your side as you guided him through the halls, earpieces in your ears alerting you to updates from the rest of the team. The hallways blinked in the emergency red lights you knew would be going off, signaling that the base was in lockdown mode. That meant your friends were doing their job further down the compound.

You’d briefed Bob on the mission on the very short jet ride to upstate. Taking the separate entrance would mean minimal fighting for both of you, which you wanted for Bob. You wanted to ease him into missions like this, especially when he was afraid to fully unleash his powers and be ‘The Sentry’ in fear of losing himself. You found a middle ground, instructing Bob that you would handle the majority of anyone you came across as well as the intel dump to your central computers back at the Watchtower. All he had to do was watch your back for stragglers.

With the compound in lockdown, most of the HYDRA agents had been pulled to the main fight. Using the tech embedded into your suit, you did a quick scan through the control room door, highlighting the agents that were inside.

“Just follow my lead and watch my back,” you mumbled to Bob, hand on the door of the control room, glancing back at him with a small smile. “You’ve got this.”

Within seconds of throwing the control room door open you were inside, launching yourself over the row of computers, legs spread as you took down two agents simultaneously with kicks directly into their throats. You ducked under another row of tables as shots rang out from the gun of another agent, propelling yourself up and above the table toward him. His gun tracked your movements, shots ringing through your ears, but the bullets hovered in place. Bob was barely through the doorway, one hand stopping the bullets from touching you while another held off the agent rushing toward him with ease.

In the signature move you’d learned from Natasha herself, your thighs enclosed around the neck of the agent shooting at you, twisting your body until you were both thrown to the ground, With another single twist of your legs you heard a crack, quickly scrambling back to your feet.

With one agent dead and two down you glanced to Bob, who was entirely fine holding back the agent that was struggling against his powers to get to him. Kicking the chairs before you out of the way, you quickly inserted the USB into the main computer drive, initiating the sequence to download any intel that HYDRA was harboring in the compound.

Bob was simply staring at the man in front of him, head tilted as the agent struggled against his mental hold on him that held him in place. Realizing that he needed to be focusing on watching your back instead of messing with the agent, Bob quickly threw him across the room, the agent’s head hitting a wall and knocking him out almost immediately. Bob smiled to himself for just a moment at the sight; he felt bad for hurting anyone, even if these people were bad people that needed to be stopped. But to have this kind of control over his powers was a miracle to him, something he didn’t believe was possible. And he owed everything to you-

“BOB!”

He frantically turned, seeing one of the agents back on his feet, hand wrapped around your throat and body pressed against the row of computers before them. He could hear your choked coughs from across the room, your feet pushing against the man’s chest in a desperate hope to knock him off of you. It was to no avail, though, as the agent lifted his other hand with some sort of device encased in it. The HYDRA agent pressed the button on top of the device, the entire body of it lighting up red in seconds.

“NO!”

You sucked in a deep breath as the agent’s hand was ripped from your throat in seconds, your own hands flying to your throat as you tried to regain control of your surroundings. Bob with a single flick of the wrist dragged the man aross the room, launching him into the wall opposite you at the speed of light, a sickening crack sounding through the room.

Your eyes locked with Bob’s for just a second before you both looked to the beeping, red device at your feet. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bob flew across the room in what seemed like a blink, grabbing hold of the device and launching it across the room toward the door where you had entered. In the next second he turned, covering your body with his own as he pulled you both to the ground just as the device containing a high powered bomb exploded.

In an instant your hands covered your ears, feeling the rush of heat from the blast and pieces of debris rush past you and Bob. He body stayed crouched over yours, keeping anything from the blast from hitting you. It seemed to go on for what felt like forever until all that was left was the smell of smoke and gunpowder in the air and the faint crackle of electricity from destroyed wires.

After another moment to recover, you crawled out from Bob’s arms, quickly turning to the harddrive behind you to pocket the USB and whatever intel you were able to download before the explosion. You turned back to the area of the blast, and felt your breath leave you at the sight.

The entire wall that connected to the main hallway was gone, the ceiling having come down on top of it as well, almost splitting the room into almost half of the size it had been when you had first entered and encountered the agents. Wires were exposed within the ceiling, pipes leaking down into the room as small fires burned in the explosion area of the rubble.

“Widow, Bob, answer us!” fully coming back to your senses, you could hear John’s voice through the earpiece in your ear. “We heard an explosion, does one of you copy?”

“One of the agent’s had a bomb, but we’re both fine,” you called back to the team, still breathing heavily as you surveyed the damage before you. “The room…not so much.”

“Did you get the intel-”

“That’s not important,” Yelena’s voice cut off John’s, and you could hear the concern within it. “What’s wrong with the room?”

“My best guess is we’re trapped now, given that an entire wall and half the ceiling was just blown out,” you relayed back to them. “We’re underground so I really don’t want to think about being trapped within a concrete room with what I can only assume is a limited amount of oxygen, so if the three super soldiers on this team could hurry their asses over here and help dig us out sooner rather than later we’d appreciate it.”

“Stay put, we’re on our way,”

“Stay put, as if we can go anywhere,” you mumbled to yourself, tearing the earpiece from your ear and pocketing it, ears still ringing slightly from the blast. “Bob, you okay?”

Your eyes stayed trained on the debris before you even as you asked the question. After a moment of no response you glanced to the side at one of the only walls that wasn’t destroyed, freezing in place at the sight of a black tendril like shadow crawling across the wall.

“I made a mistake…it’s my fault…”

Turning fully, it felt like ice had suddenly run through your veins at the sight before you.

Bob was on his knees on the ground, eyes trained on the floor, but he was barely Bob anymore. Half of his face, of the face of the beautiful, broken boy you’d fallen so irrevocably in love with over the last few months was still visible. The rest of him was bathed in shadows, tendrils of it seeping out through the floor and into the walls, as the Void slowly took him over.

“Bob…” your voice was low, cautious, as you took a single hesitant step back.

He looked up at you at he sound of your voice. One single blue eye remained, tears welling in it and streaming down his face, in contrast to the shadow and pinpoint dot that covered the other half of his face. He spoke like himself, but almost like there were two of him, a low and gruff second voice of his layered over it.

“It’s my fault. It shouldn’t have happened I- I made a mistake. I could’ve hurt you, I could’ve got you killed,” his voice broke for a second, a sob almost seeping out of him as the shadows took more of what was left of him away. “I’m useless. All I do is make mistakes, all I do is make everything worse.You shouldn’t have brought me, I wasn’t ready. I- I can’t hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”

“You protected me,” you tried to explain to him, voice soft as you crouched down, bringing yourself down to his level as you held out your hands toward him. “You saved me. You didn’t make a mistake, Bob, neither of us knew he had a bomb. You did everything you could. Please just…just listen. Just come back to me.”

He stared at you, one blue eyes and one pinpoint eye, but your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other. The shadows still crept in.

“I’m better off dead. If I’m dead I…I can’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you,”

The shadows crept in again, that blue eye full of tears barely left to look at you, as the Void was seconds from swallowing him whole once again. 

Panic filled you in that instance, at the thought of losing him, and you lunged forward. Your knees dropping to the ground in front of him as you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck as you cried, letting the shadows consume you as well.

“Don’t leave me…please don’t leave me,”

It could’ve been minutes, it felt like hours, but in reality it had only been seconds before your eyes opened once more. There were arms wrapped around your waist as your brain caught up with you that you were still with Bob. You flung back, prying your head from the crook of his neck as you pulled back to look at him, just as he looked back at you with a similar look of confusion.

One hand came up to cup his cheek, overwhelmed to simply see his face unmarked by shadows. His eyes trailed over your face before they flickered around the room, face contorting in confusion.

“This…this isn’t one of my shame rooms,”

You followed his gaze, breath catching in your throat automatically as you took in the room. The grand pillars in front of the staircase, the white and black tiled floor beneath your feet, the dim lighting you knew all too well.

The Red Room.

“No…it’s one of mine,”

Bob’s hand around your waist tightened at the sound of heels against the floor behind you. His hand never left you, and your’s never left him as you both turned to face the scene before you.

You were so young, only 9. You stood to the side of the room, still in your ballet flats and hair slicked back impeccably. You recognized the woman in heels, of course you did she’d been your instructor since you were barely old enough to be molded into one of their assassins. She came to a stop before you, glaring down at you. God, you were just a child.

“You were given simple instructions,” her shrill voice cut through the air as you tightened your hold around Bob at the sound. “A simple task. You have been a perfect student…only to fail now.”

“I’m sorry, mistress,”

“There are no apologies here,” her voice cut in again. “Only consequences.”

Two burly men entered the room, holding the arms of a body not much bigger than your own at the time. They tore the sack upon the child’s head off, revealing her face: Polina. You’d grown up together, progressed through every challenge together. Besides Yelena…she’d been the closest thing to a best friend you could have in a place like this.

Bob’s own hands on your waist tightened as the mistress pulled out a revolver from the waistband of her skirt, loading a single bullet into the chamber. Her gaze flickered back to your young 9-year-old self, glare harsher than it was before as she saw your eyes were closed. “Open your eyes, and accept your consequence.”

A single tear made its way down your cheek as this young version of you did as she was asked, holding back her own tears as she looked into the eyes of your friend, just as the mistress’s bullet pierced her skull.

“What…what happened?”

“Simple…I made a mistake,” was the only response you could muster back to Bob. You pulled your gaze from the bloody scene before you, turning back to the man you loved as he watched you. Shaky hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs gliding over his skin as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Bob…we all have regrets. We all wish we could’ve done things differently. We all make mistakes, whether we want to or not, but it just means we’re human. We are not the sum of all of our mistakes, but what we choose to do differently because of them.”

Bob leaned into your soft touch, his eyes never leaving yours. He shook his head, choking on his own words as he tried to find the words to say.

“All I’ve done is cause you pain…cause everyone pain, because I keep- I keep making mistakes. I don’t know how to fix it,”

You thought about the next thing to say, what you could possibly say to get through to him, but words no longer seemed to do the trick. Instead, your hands held tight to his face as you surged forward, molding your lips to his own.

In a single kiss, you tried to convey every single thing that you needed him to feel. The way that you had cared about him from the moment you’d laid eyes on him, that one single look into his blue eyes had forever held him a place in your heart before you even realized he was the one occupying it. That in your eyes, he could do no wrong, that there was no mistake he could make that would make you love him any less. That you would walk through fire, cross any ocean, or throw yourself into the void of his own mind if that’s what it took to bring him back to you. The press of your lips against his own, the hesitant reciprocation back from him as he tried to navigate this new territory, his hands gripped onto your waist in hopes to ground himself in the moment, you tried desperately to ensure that he knew everything you needed him to know in that moment.

You pulled away, eyes closed as you felt him lean back into you, chasing after the feeling of your lips on his. Your nose brushed against his, hand moving from his cheek to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair.

“Just stay with me. That’s all I need…just stay with me,”

When you finally opened your eyes, you were back in the debris-covered room of the destroyed compound, still kneeling on the floor. You could hear the sound of your friends from beyond the debris, calling out for you as they tried to move the debris before them to get to you both.

All that mattered was the man still wrapped in your arms, shadows faded away as if they’d never appeared to begin with, leaving behind those beautiful blue eyes that shone brightly with one thing only: love.

“Always,”

[insertdisc5]

TIMELOOP GAMES REAL!??!??!!

hi i made a timeloop game called In Stars and Time and this is a whole post about other timeloop games you can also play.

some i liked. some i loved. some i didnt like. all are worth playing and like also listen the second friends and family heard i was making a timeloop game, i got bombarded with timeloop media recs. so here is a sampler in no particular order! NOTE: knowing some of those games are timeloop games is a spoiler. but. you are here. for timeloop games. so timeloop games you shall have

Outer Wilds

If you need to play one timeloop game, it's this one. Please play it blind. I swear to god you won't regret it. it's timeloops in space!!! it makes you think!!! there are so many "HOLY SHIT WAIT I GET IT NOW" moments!!! please just go play it please please please. some of the best environmental storytelling in a game. so many hints in plain sight. JUST PLAY IT

[way more timeloop games under the cut]

Oxenfree

I didn't actually like Oxenfree very much. But also it stayed in my mind for weeks after I finished playing it. that's how you know it's a good game. I really enjoyed the dialogue system in this, and how much the loop affected the characters. and it got so spooky!!!

Hikeback

i'm in the credits for this one because i was one of the inspirations heehee <3 i loved playing it… short little game about trust, self-sabotage, and never-ending cycles. highly recommend it

The Stanley Parable

Listen babes it absolutely counts. I replayed it a bunch while making ISAT, and I got immensely inspired by the dialogue, and how it catches you off guard sometimes? You get SO SO used to the narrator's "All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?" at the start of every game, and then for no reason instead it says "A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped that he would one day see weather." like WHAT THE FUUUUCK IM GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

12 minutes

ok i know we all made fun of this game when it came out because the story is batshit insane HOWEVER!!!!!!!! i REALLY REALLY LOVED how doing the same actions multiple times would have slightly different outcomes. If you battle someone, the first time you get knocked out in one hit and the loop restarts. the second time you try, you evade the first hit, but get knocked out. the third time, you last a little bit longer, and a little bit longer, until you can pretty much hold your own against your enemy. And it applies to so many things in this. Retrying different things to see how they would change was a delight.

this game is also so bad its almost good, and if you're interested you HAVE to play it with friends so you can yell about how bad it is together.

Zero Escape

it's just a good series ok. escape rooms, and also time loops! the 3rd game in particular goes deep into The Math of how timeloops would work, which i think is interesting. sometimes timeloop games just go "yeah you can timeloop dont worry about it" and others go "OK HERE'S THE HOW AND WHY IT WORKS" and both are interesting!

START AGAIN: a prologue

this game has almost everything i could wish for in a timeloop game. depression. lines repeating. dying brings you back. you get new levels and skills because you're aware of the loops but your party members don't. so you get overpowered next to them and they Notice. just. party members who dont know about the loops still noticing something is wrong. you are acting differently than yesterday. you look sad. you are acting weird. you know too much. how did you know where the keys were? how did you know this would happen? what's wrong? talk to us. and oh my god this game has a sequel? which will probably have Actually Everything i could wish for in a timeloop game? i can't wait. who made this? (its me i made this)

Ghost Trick

ok its not really time loops and more time travel and only for 4 minutes HOWEVER!!!! you should play it. you know you should play it because everyone says so. so go play it

Elsinore

im sure its a great game but ive never seen/read hamlet. so thats a failing on my part. because. you absolutely need to know hamlet to understand this game lol i did like the whole "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop"! very fun. or it would be. if i. knew. hamlet

The Forgotten City

a friend kept recommending it to me and i didn't like it. its good! just not for me. but if you like to think a lot you should play it. another "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop" game

Gnosia

Gonna be real. I didn't like the story very much, in part because the game lets you choose your gender but still acts like youre a straight dude. HOWEVER the gameplay was very inspiring to me. Every loop is pretty much just an among us meeting, and you have to find out who the imposters are or everyone dies and you loop again. and sometimes you ARE the imposter, so you need to make sure no one finds out. or you loop again. rules get added as time goes on too. i REALLY loved how quickly the loops stacked up. seeing "loop 100" was such a nice moment. ive been here so long! i tried to recreate that somewhat for my own game…

Loop Hero

Technically not a timeloop game, but a loop game. It still absolutely counts because it's about loops and memories, and what are loops and memories together if not a timeloop. You have your little guy going through a closed loop, battling enemies, getting cards, and making the world whole again by using those cards to make forests, towns, lakes come to life. I am famously a Story First Gameplay Second kinda player, but I did play this 45h for the gameplay alone. I learned a lot about battle balancing and randomness by playing this!

You and Me and Her: A Love Story

you know doki doki litterature club? this came before. and one might say. it's. better. in some parts (and i say that as someone who LOVED ddlc!) i won't say much except it's a dating sim but with timeloops. with a lot of what it implies. why are you dating this girl a second time? a third time? a fourth time? choose another one already! it was such a fascinating game to play, and is incredibly meta in the way it talks about dating sims and visual novels. had a lot of very impactful moments however, i played the hentai version. some of the worst, most cringy sex ive ever read and heard. however, one might say the sex is an integral part of the game and its deconstruction of hentai/dating sims…? no. just play the steam version which doesnt have the horrible sex scenes and you will have a great time i think (or play the hentai version. if you like. to watch. horrible sex scenes???)

Higurashi

knowing this is a timeloop game is a massive spoiler. however, this game is more than a decade old, so,,, honestly if you havent played higurashi what are you doing. i know i just spoiled you on it but i was also spoiled on it and i can GUARANTEE YOU that you will still have an amazing time. one more thing. you gotta play with the original sprites or you're a fake fan

I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

starts as a visual novel/management sim/dating sim kinda thing, until you realize that every replay is a new timeline. so the main character can save people, because they remembered about them dying in a previous one. i wish the timeloop would affect the game/story more (let me find a certain character quicker once ive found them in a previous playthrough!!!), but timeloop aside, it's a very fun game to play!!!

that's it! hope you will find a nice timeloop game you like

[hiraethwrote]

THE HEART GROWS FONDER

pairing : kento nanami x f!reader summary : (requested) — kento nanami loved you before he even knew you, and his feelings were the one thing he never questioned. like pieces of a puzzle, you fit together. whatever happens, your feelings never waver. cw : childhood friends to lovers, reader is v emotional, canon events/jjk0 spoilers, mentions of character death, mutual and intense pining, miscommunication lack of communication, mild one-bed-trope?, platonic!satoru (bc apparently i am unable to write anything without mentioning him), light profanity, pet names, talk of wedding, sweet fluff, a good chunk of angst, slight jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 10.1 k

Kento was a knowledgeable man.

He knew how long it took to get from one place in Tokyo to another, no matter what time of day it was. Well aware of all the best routes for traveling the city most efficiently, even during rush hours.

He knew all the ways to make the most money. Not what he was proudest of, but working hard had garnered him a set of useful skills that made him a good employee, a real asset to the company.

He knew how to read a map, a skill long forgotten by most in this day and age. Should he ever find himself in a situation where there was no reception, he would be able to get his hands on a sheet displaying the nearby areas and figure out how to return to civilisation.

He knew how to best take care of his body. He had done extensive research to make sure he moved his body correctly during workouts to not harm himself. He wasn’t interested in aching joints when he was old and gray.

And he knew he loved you — since the very first moment his eyes landed on you all those years ago.

He remembered the exact moment in excruciating detail as well, like how he had turned a little scared at the unfamiliar sensation of a racing heartbeat. When pressing his hand to his chest, he felt the rapid thumping. He quickly realised it was caused by the sight of you when it happened every time he spotted you.

His dad would tease him whenever he caught Kento sitting in the windowsill, chubby cheeks resting on his forearms as he gazed lovingly towards the little girl playing in her front yard a few houses down. “I’m sure she would love to play with you.” His face would turn bright crimson, a colour that had become all too common in the Nanami household whenever you were brought up, before an embarrassed Kento would stomp up to his room.

He didn’t learn your name until the first day of school — your parents had arranged for the two of you to walk to school together. He had been over the moon when he heard the news, pure excitement filling his body to the point where he could not sit still. But the moment he was stood in front of you, your voice sweet as honey when introducing yourself, his throat dried out and he turned tongue tied. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his feet back on the ground, “Kento,” he croaked weakly before disappearing into his jacket.

With small feet carrying you to and from school, you tried to force a conversation out of him but to no prevail. He remained shy and quiet, eventually resulting in a statement that had saddened him more than he could have anticipated; “you don’t talk much, do you?”

There had been no ill intent in your words, but it had Kento distance himself from you. What was supposed to blossom into a friendship (and maybe even more with time), only simmered down to him consistently trialing five steps behind you on the path to school that became all too bleak when it hadn’t turned out how he had imagined it.

His infatuation didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon either. If anything, now having the opportunity to observe you in closer proximity only deepened his feelings. He now got to witness the outgoing and bubbly personality that was wrapped in your cute exterior, exceeding all his expectations of what he had imagined you would be like — fascinated by how you seemed to excel in aspects where he lacked.

And the more time that passed, it seemed the day he would find the courage to catch up and walk along side you traveled further out of his reach.

He continued to admire from afar, watching as you earned yourselves new friendships as easily as putting your shoes on in the morning. Kento wasn’t the only one drawn to your outgoing personality and charming smile, his heart breaking a little when you formed a tight knit friend group and he didn’t get to be a part of it.

That’s how it went. Kento sort of just blended into the background, never making a number of himself. He was nearly certain no one really knew he even existed at all (except the teachers, who absolutely adored him). Day after day, he sat by himself with a book in his hands, only ever looking up to admire you for a few seconds as you would play with your friends.

However, he preferred the quiet life in school more than what it evolved into as second grade rolled around.

During recess, he would sit with his book, same as always, counting the minutes until school was over so he would walk those five familiar steps behind you — that’s when two third graders had approached him, their intention clear as day.

Their antics continued for two weeks — until what he thought was the voice of an angel interrupted.

“Hi there.”

Kento would recognise that voice anywhere, turning towards the source to see you, huge grin plastered on your face, both hands behind your back as you stared down the two third graders.

“What’s going on here?” You asked in such a sweet and innocent tone, but all three of the boys could see there was something borderline unfriendly in your eyes that was not present in your words.

“Doesn’t concern you,” one of the mean kids bit back.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together before shifting to a serious tone. “I think it does, because from over there-“ you pointed in the direction of where you had stood moments earlier, “it looked like you were picking on my friend.”

Friend? Had he heard you right?

Before they could retaliate, you had already opened your mouth again, “I’ll scream! The adults will come and you’ll be in biiiig trouble!” Your tone had been so cheerful, but that same threatening intent lingered in your gaze — a look one did not want to receive from a stubborn, little seven year old.

It seemed like your scare tactic worked, because after grumbling to themselves for a few seconds, they shuffled away with their tails between their legs. And once they were far enough away not to be a bother anymore, you squatted down on the gravel beside Kento, wrapping your arms around your legs.

“You okay, Kento?” Completely transformed, not a hint of your malice present any longer, just soft and genuine concern when speaking his name.

He blinked a few times, using the back of his hand to dry the few tears that had watered up in the corner of his eyes before he answered you. “‘M fine,” he sniffled, then daring to look you in the eyes to mutter a shy “thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You couldn’t explain why you had decided to interfere — because labelling Kento a friend wasn’t entirely true. The boy had barely said a word to you for the year you had known him, but you had just been filled with anger when you witnessed the older kids choose to pick on him. He did not have a mean bone in his body. And maybe somewhere along the line, you had gained a soft spot for the reserved kid, having not been able to stop glancing over your shoulder from time to time when you walked to and from school, just to make sure he was still there.

Never had Kento imagined that the taunting from his upperclassman would be his biggest blessing to date. He no longer sat alone during lunch, but instead accepted your invite to eat with you and your little clique.

And finally your friendship with Kento had the opportunity to grow.

Thanks to you, school had become a lot more enjoyable for him after that. The walks to and from school was no longer spent with an awkward distance, now matching your pace as you both indulged in small talk from the moment you left school until he left you at your door.

He knew he should have been satisfied, and in one way he was. He was finally allowed to call you his friend after all, but during school hours, you usually hung out the entire group. And on your spare time, you had a tendency to reserve your time just for the girls. So while he wished for more, he continued to shoot longing, and not so subtle, gazes across the table.

It abruptly changed when you were thirteen, walking home from school like any other day, when your blunt question had cut through the conversation.

“Hey, you want to go to the movies with me?”

“What?” Kento’s thirteen year old brain had not been able to comprehend the question, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at you with big eyes, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. Had you just asked him on a date?

You stopped when you noticed he did, staring right back at him like this wasn’t a big deal. “None of the girls were interested, and you’re the only boy in our group I can tolerate without any of the girls,” you rolled your eyes. You had turned a little feisty when entering your teens.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, drawing his lips into an awkward line, hoping he could play it off as a smile.

Your deadpanned expression immediately twisted into one of pure joy. “Great!”

Kento had stood in front of his mirror all afternoon, using both his hands to smoothen the crinkles of his shirt, treating it very much like a date. He didn’t even realise how long he had been stressing in his room until his mom came knocking, telling him you were waiting outside.

He had been a little disappointed when he saw you, because it became very evident you did not consider it a date. Wearing the same outfit you had worn to school that day, resting on the handlebars of your bike. “C’mon, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts,” you nagged, just the tiniest bit annoyed.

When stood in the kiosk, he had offered to pay for the popcorn, like the good, little gentleman he had been raised to be. “Oh, no need. Mom gave me money to pay for it,” you said cheerfully with a shrug and a smile. “Thanks, though.”

The movie couldn’t hold Kento’s attention, even if he wanted to, because for the whole ninety minutes you had your knee rested against his. The sensation of the shy touch of your leg had his heart beat so loud against his ribcage, he was scared you might turn to him and tell it to shush so you could hear the movie.

It wasn’t much, but the pressing feeling was definitely prominent enough that you had to be aware of it too. And in his mind, it seemed only logical you kept your leg still against his because you wanted it to touch him. But whenever he flickered his eyes over to you, you seemed utterly unbothered, attention fixated on the screen as your hand continued to grab popcorn from the bucket.

He tried to keep his breath even, letting his tension spill out by clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so determined to sit completely still, scared the tiniest flinch would cause you to shift your leg away from him.

Trips to the movies, just in each other’s company, became a regular occurrence after that. And about half of the time, you let him pay… only because you paid the other half, but he let himself wallow in the idea that he was treating you for the evening.

He was in high school when one of your friends had asked about it. “What’s really going on there, Kento?”

He had immediately decided to play dumb. Not because he was embarrassed, but if there was even the slightest chance it would feed them material they could use to make you uncomfortable, he wanted to avoid it. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, man,” he laughed mockingly. “You and her,” nodding towards where you stood with your girlfriends in the cafeteria line. “The two of you hang out with each other more than us these days.”

“I don’t know, we’re friends?” Kento shrugged, almost certain he was able to play it off as casual.

“Friends? Right, friends who constantly go on movie dates together.”

“They’re not dates,” was all he had been able to say to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot like they had done when he was younger.

They had all chucked at him then. “Yeah, whatever man. Congratulations bagging the prettiest girl in school,” was the last thing that was said before you and the rest of the girls joined their table. You sat down beside Kento, like always.

Carefully, you had nudged his arm to get his attention. “You okay?” You asked quietly so only he could hear.

He gave you a weak but genuine smile. “Yes, just lost in thought is all.” You smiled back at him, making his heart skip a beat.

You don’t remember when it changed for you. If it had been a gradual thing, or if you had just woken up one day with this feeling — but something was definitely different.

The realisation had hit you mid sentence. Rambling on about some meaningless topic, like you always did, and suddenly you noticed the way he was looking at you.

He was listening so intently, not missing a single word coming from your mouth, a faint smile stamped at the corner of his lips and a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t really noticed before. You only managed to snap out of it when he spoke your name.

“Am I losing you by not talking?” He teased before taking a sip out of his coffee.

“Shit,” you muttered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I just remembered this group assignment I have due tomorrow.” A lie — and an obvious one at that. But Kento didn’t get a moment to ask any follow-up questions before you had gathered your stuff and rushed to say goodbye, leaving him alone in the cafe.

For the entire walk home, you thought about Kento, now suddenly in a new light, reflecting over the entirety of your friendship.

You became aware of how he always seemed to prioritise you in the group without hesitation. You had just brushed it off, assuming he felt indebted to you for coming to his rescue when you were seven. But you realised now how ridiculous that sounded.

You thought of all the times he had come running when you had asked for him. Whether it was after a fight with one of your girlfriends, or a date that had gone horribly wrong, he dropped everything to be by your side.

You realised now why you always caught yourself answering with a frown when girls came to ask you about him. As you had gotten older, he had definitely grown into his looks, a subtle kind of handsome that snuck up on you.

When you got home, you had pulled out your phone to send a text to apologise for bailing so abruptly. But you typed and deleted the message twenty times over, anxiety you had never felt about him before overwhelming you. In the end, you ended up not sending anything at all, feeling like no words sufficed.

And the next time you met, you acted as if nothing had happened, and he just went along with it.

You tried desperately to act as if nothing had changed, beyond terrified you would scare him off or make him uncomfortable if he picked up on your new and revolutionary feelings for him. If there was one thing you were absolute certain about, it was that you would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship you had with him. There was no competition of what person in your life you cherished the most; Kento Nanami. You’d be the earth's biggest fool to gamble that away for anything.

When you were 16, you nearly caved.

In your desperate attempt of keeping things normal, you had continued your meaningless escapades — which meant going on terrible dates with even more terrible guys — turns out teenage boys are just assholes by default.

“It’s their loss,” Kento cooed in a warm tone, sitting beside you on your bed with a comforting arm around your shoulders.

In all honesty, you didn’t even care all that much about the date. You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. No, your mind was way more interested in how his strong hand cupped your arm so perfectly.

You turned to look at him, faces closer than ever before. He happily held your gaze — you were just hoping he was able to read the messages it conveyed.

Tell me to stop seeing these guys, and I’ll stop.

Tell me you want me the way I want you.

Tell me it’s you I’m meant to be with.

“You’ll find someone worthy of you eventually.”

Your heart sunk, having built up your own expectations based on how his eyes had roamed your face as if he truly desired you. Maybe this was all in your head.

It wasn’t.

But Kento, much like you, didn’t want to lose you over anything. Confessing risked the relationship he already had with you. He would rather have you as a friend, than not have you in his life at all.

Not long after that, you both joined Jujutsu tech. Slowly but surely, you slipped away from your childhood group — him more than you. You tried your very best to stay in touch, though your new schedule made that hard.

With these new threats looming around you, neither of you could help how your friendship — or whatever you would call what was going on between you — continued to grow deeper. More serious. It went unsaid by the both of you, but there was just a mutual understanding that it was the logical development when there was the slightest possibility of it ending all too soon.

Still neither of you confessed.

You fell into routines, so accustomed to seeing him every minute of every day, your first instinct when returning from a mission was to find him.

As expected, Kento heard the three soft knocks he knew all too well at this point, before you squeezed through his door. With a deep exhale, you fell back on his bed, while he sat in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m exhausted.”

“Did you just get back?” His muscles were a little tense, like they always where whenever you had to go on a mission without him, his eyes searching every inch of you to see if there were any visible injuries he had to worry about.

“Little over an hour ago. Had to escape Gojo talking my ear off about his own mission.”

Kento observed how the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a tired smile, your chest vibrating with a soft chuckle.

He was always happy to see you come back unharmed, but he hated the exhaustion that rested in your joints — and it filled him with an unexplainable urge to help you somehow.

He imagined guiding you to lay on your stomach, placing his legs on each side of you and slowly soothing your muscles, rubbing caring motions along the curves of your body to fill it with the relaxation you deserved — but he couldn’t. It would definitely cross a line, too intimate for just friends.

“Glad you’re back,” he said almost in a whisper.

“Me too.” He could barely hear you, the mission slowly catching up with your energy as well, sensing on your breathing that you weren’t too far from falling asleep.

The silence that surrounded you was comfortable. You had grown so accustomed to each other’s presence, any awkwardness had ceased to exist. Nevertheless, Kento didn’t quite know what to do with himself, just looking at you sprawled out on his bed, a scene he would like to see every night.

“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

He heard the slight hesitation in your voice before you expressed your request. Raising up his neck and face was a burning heat, his breathing coming out shallow as he didn’t quite know what to say.

Being a cautious man, he thought of every possible outcome.

It was prohibited, so he should decline. But he would hate himself forever if he simply sent you away because of the school’s outdated rules — he also knew he would regret it until his heart stopped beating.

So having you stay here was the only reasonable outcome — but then what? He supposed he would end up sleeping on the floor, like the gentleman he was. He would at least never assume he could sleep next to you, and he would not be as vulgar to ask.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Of course. I’ll just-“

“Kento,” you said his name again, just as soft as always.

“Yeah?”

“There’s room for both of us on the bed.”

He had to swallow the massive lump that felt as if it was suffocating him. It at least stopped any further words to come out of his mouth. He slowly raised from the chair, floorboards creaking as he stepped over.

With his eyes locked on you, seemingly so calm with your eyes closed, he positioned himself beside you so he was facing you.

Goosebumps prickled up his arm when he felt your breath fan against his face, and he wondered how you managed to keep it in such an even rhythm. Didn’t this closeness send lightning through your body like it did for him, temptation threatening the act of finally crossing the line?

There was a crease between your eyebrows that seemed unintentional, like the events of the day had just planted themselves on your face and even your calm breathing couldn’t ease it. Against his better judgment, Kento’s urges steered his thumb towards your face, not reflecting over his action before he had ran his skin across the crinkle to smoothen the tension.

Shit, he thought to himself, certain you would open your mouth to tell him off — instead he saw how there had been a slight strain to your shoulders that was now released.

While he let his eyes roam your face, taking in every breathtaking aspect of your beauty, he felt a small spark of fear fill him at how right it all felt — lying next to you, so close he could feel the warmth radiate from your skin, his soft touch being able to bring rest to your body, the mere idea that he could envelop you in his arms if he wanted to.

“I’m happy you’re here with me,” your voice startled him a little, as he had assumed you had already fallen into the oblivion of sleep. “I’d never be able to navigate this world without you.”

“That’s not true.” Your eyes opened to meet his, catching his breath immediately, so stunningly deep he always felt himself fall into them. “You’ve always been the one looking out for me.”

You chuckled a little at that, endless memories of the two of you throughout childhood. “I guess in one way. But you’ve always kept me afloat.”

“You give yourself too little credit.” He had to stop himself from letting his fingers graze your cheek in the most tender caress. “You would have done just fine on your own.”

A small smile of flattery dared dance on your lips. “But I don’t want to.” It felt like a confession, unspoken feelings hidden within those words, begging for him to be able to deduce the true meaning. “Thinking of a life where you’re not at my side scares me.”

“Let’s never find out what that life is like.”

Kento would later eat those words.

Haibara’s death hit Kento the hardest. Numerous evenings were spent in the eerie silence of his cold dorm. When he cried, you held him. When he was trying to distract himself by reading, you sat and watched him, keeping him company. When he went the entire night without sparing you the slightest gaze, you knew you had overstayed your welcome, leaving him to be alone for a night.

“I don’t think I will continue to be a sorcerer.”

That was the first thing he said that hadn’t been a complete necessity, and it sent a spike of ice down your spine, not daring to understand his statement right away.

“Oh,” was the only thing you could think of to respond that did not entertain his idea.

His eyes met yours, the eye contact more intense than it had been for days, realising just how much you had missed having his kind eyes directed at you. Seemed like he felt it too, as the smallest gasp slipped out of him.

“I mean it.”

The tears instantly burned in your eyes, blinking them away before they had the chance to come running. “That's what scares me,” your voice betrayed you as the usual confidence came out cracked.

He didn’t push it any further, reading you as an open book — you knew he was telling the truth, but refused to acknowledge it. It was like if you ignored his statement, it would somehow end differently.

Luckily, after that night, Kento started to somewhat fall back to his old self. His smile started to return, it was easier to hold a conversation with him, which you obviously appreciated — however, he had planted a fear in you that had taken your body hostage.

You abandoned any sense of boundaries entirely, hanging onto his arm at all times. It was only when you were physically aware of his frame you were able to cling onto a string of peace. Feeling his body glued at your side only served as a confirmation that he was still here, and as long as you held on he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t leave.

And whenever you had to pry yourself off of him to tend to your responsibilities where he wasn’t assigned, you were constantly living in a state of anxiety. Foot tapping against the floor, picking at your skin, petrified you would end up returning to see his room stripped of any signs of life — that he would have finally done the thing he said he would do, and part with the Jujutsu world.

Every time you returned, the sweetest sensation of relief washed over you, tears welling up immediately when he always stood ready to greet you. “Hey you,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight until he could physically feel your body let go of the stress that had tainted every muscle, every joint, for the entire time you had been separated.

But graduation day came and time was up.

You had held onto hope he would eventually change his mind, that it was only the initial grief that had weighed heavy on his conscience. But you were now standing in his bare room, everything packed into cardboard boxes. Of course it had only been a childish dream to think he would stay — there was no changing his mind.

“I really am sorry.” He was so earnest, like always, making it hard to be mad at him even though you so desperately wanted to. He genuinely had so much compassion, his hands stroking your arms in an attempt to calm the bouncing of your shoulders that followed the frantic rhythm of your sobs.

“I just don’t understand why?” You continued to sob, sentence coming out in sad intervals as you heaved for air.

“This isn’t right. It’s not right of them to expect us to be okay with watching our partners lay down their lives like this.”

You wanted so badly to scream at him, bang your fists against his chest before clasping onto his shirt so he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to leave. You knew it was unwarranted for you to feel that way, but the fact that he was following through with his stunt felt like a betrayal.

“You said we weren’t going to find out what this would be like.”

His heart shattered. Looking into your doe eyes, tainted red with sorrow as the sentence laced with innocence sent him back to every fragile evening throughout your journey together he had spent comforting you. How many tears he had dried, happily so? But this time it was his doing — him who brought you to a state of despair so grave you couldn’t breathe, and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to comfort you.

Waiting for his next words were torture, time at a standstill watching his mouth open and close while he constructed the sentence in his mind. Though useless, the glimmer of hope refused to die out, begging for his surrender — you’re right, I’ll stay.

“I’m sorry.”

Another one of your earth shattering sobs came flying past your lips, stabbing him right in the heart that had only ever beaten for you.

Comforting you would always be second nature to him, which had his hands cup your face and pulling it closer to rest his forehead against yours. He wished, begged, for his touch to bring you comfort one last time before he left. But your body continued to shake. “It’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, spoken in a faint whisper. Repeating it over and over, waiting for his small affirmations to take affect — they never did.

Ask me to come with you.

Those six words played like a broken record in your mind, knowing you would pack your bags and abandon this god forsaken life at the drop of a hat if he just asked you to.

Come with me.

The request laid restless at the tip of his tongue, fighting every voice in him that was screaming at him to be selfish. But he couldn’t with you, never with you.

Unlike him, you had a purpose in this world — you were able to see the good in what you did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he ripped you away from it no matter how much he wanted to.

There seemed like there was no limit to your tears. Shuddering against his touch, he sensed your body didn’t have much energy left to stand. He ended up leading the two of you to his bed, stripped bare to just the mattress, duvet folded at the end. Without any words spoken, you laid down in his arms, burying your face in his chest while the sobs continued to tumble out uncontrollably.

His strong arms locked around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible, letting the illusion of him never disappearing from you live on for another night.

Eventually your sobs calmed down, only happening sporadically. The shaking stopped and he felt your breathing even out, telling him you had finally been able to let sleep consume you.

He couldn’t stop himself — placing a chaste kiss at the crown of your head, mumbling quiet and secret apologies before sleep caught him too.

According to Gojo, his departure had been quick. He hadn’t said much, just given them all a nod before grabbing his bags and disappearing.

You had decided against seeing him off. The two of you had said your goodbyes the night before in the solemn of his empty dorm. It had been wet, heartbreaking and nothing short of painful, but at least it had been private between the two of you. No one knew how your tears had soaked his shirt, or how your fists had created crinkles in the fabric while desperately holding onto him. No one knew how you had cried until the exhaustion knocked you out in his arms, so scared to wake up to face the new reality where Kento wasn’t at your immediate side like he had been since you were kids.

You couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have him there. Even before you had grown close, he had always lingered, the one thing in your life that had stayed consistent throughout it all was him.

The next weeks were absolutely torture, having to feed the people surrounding you endless lies of “I’m fine, really.” You were really just trying to prevent yourself from letting the reality set in properly. If that can of worms were to open again, you had no clue when or how you would be able to stop it. Last time you had still been able to seek some comfort against his warmth, only able to stop it because you practically passed out.

Not a single moment passed where he didn’t cross your mind, small things reminding you of him. All your little routines — for days you forgot to grab lunch because you were so used to him bringing it to you. For days you ended up with one towel too many, because you always brought an extra for him after training. Mundane things you had always taken for granted, gone in an instant.

Despite feeling a little betrayed, you couldn’t really blame him either. So you reached deep within yourself to try and stay positive. It wasn’t like he was gone gone, he had just retreated to a normal life.

You stayed in touch, sending regular updates about how you were getting by in the world of curses without him — lying of course. When he had left, he had taken some of the purpose you had in it all with him. But you didn’t want him to worry. You told him how you eventually started teaching at Jujutsu High alongside Gojo, and it felt nice to be responsible for the next generation of sorcerers.

And at first you received regular updates in return. He got himself a quaint little apartment that fitted his needs perfectly. You even got a few blurry photos of how he had tried to decorate it so it would feel more homely — you had cried when you received those.

You never called each other though. It seemed like there was a mutual understanding that it would be too unbearable to hear the voice of the other.

After a while, the updates slowly came to a halt. You kept on sending yours however, only for that little checkmark to appear and confirm he had read it. But no answer — you cried then too.

Had you said something or done something to make him cut the contact? You never managed to wrap your head around why he stopped showing you his new life.

Kento had never wanted to stop sending the messages — on the contrary. If anything, he had to stop himself from not telling you about every single minute of his day, even the most meaningless things, just as an excuse to talk to you.

But one day, thanks to a white haired little birdie, all consuming guilt had struck him. “She doesn’t say it, but she’s miserable.”

He held his breath, his fingers unintentionally clenching tighter around his phone. “She is?” His voice came out faint. He heard Gojo let out a deep sigh at the other end of the line.

“She tries. Very hard. I stopped asking a long time ago because she kept lying anyways.”

“Oh.” Kento had been a fool, believing your words when he had read them on his screen. When he hadn’t been able to hear the tone behind the statements, he had been able to convince himself they were genuine. But of course you were lying — he was, after all.

“But I think she really enjoys teaching,” Gojo said after a moment of sad silence, trying to fill the conversation with some optimism. “And the kids love her.”

“Yes, I can imagine as much,” a small smile appearing on his lips, picturing the scene of you with the young students.

“Look, I have to run, she’s waving me over. Should I-“

“No!” Kento rushed to cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Please.”

He made up his mind then and there — he was not going to cause you any more pain. So he had to let you go entirely to allow you to move on. The way he was selfishly clinging onto the crumps you gave him seemed to do you no good, if the image Gojo painted was accurate.

So he stopped. Even though his fingers urged to reach out, he fought against it, for you.

You, however, could not hinder how your finger pressed the send button every now and then. The updates definitely became less frequent when he went radio silent, but you did not have the strength to stop. If you stopped… there was a fear he would never come back.

Kento was supposed to share his life with you.

He had believed so ever since he was a little kid, ogling you from afar before he even knew your name. The way you made his heart jump and pulse quicken had to be his body’s way of telling him you were meant to be with him, quickly growing addicted, dependent, on the reactions you created in him without trying.

But he had made the drastic choice of abandoning that feeling, convinced the alternative did you harm — and the mere concept of being the reason you even felt the faintest glimmer of discomfort was something he could not live with.

He welcomed the misery, a small price to pay for the belief that you were doing better now. He also thought he had good reason to believe that was the case.

The updates you sent him were few and far between these days, but it did paint a picture. You were rarely in the photos, but there was an energy present in the moments eternalised that seemed pleasant and positive. He imagined you had found your role, your place in life where you would get to fulfil your potential. And whether or not he was there was irrelevant.

He convinced himself his own insecurities were a reality to make it easier to bear.

Ever since childhood, you had been the headstrong one. The independent one. The brave one. It always lingered in the back of his mind whenever he just observed you in different scenarios — that it really didn’t matter if he was there or not, forever just an accessory to your life. He even feared he was holding you back somehow.

So it was only reasonable to think time away from him would have provided you with the playing field to develop into the best version of yourself… right?

Years went by and Kento’s pain didn’t ease. He missed you — every single day. And he kept living in that constant state of torture for you, until the fantasy shattered.

It was just another day, nothing out of the ordinary. Kento was going about his drowsy routines of stopping by the same bakery he did every morning before work. However today, he was nearly tackled by two kids, a boy and a girl about the age of six, once he entered the building.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” a grown woman rushed over to apologise as she brought the children back to their little table.

“It’s no problem,” he mumbled monotonously, eyes following them as they scattered back to their seats, where another woman sat.

A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, feeling like he had the privilege of looking back in time. The little boy resembled a young Kento Nanami, his blonde locks neatly styled, chubby, red cheeks and a baby-blue button up shirt — a rather mature attire for a six year old.

And the boy had his eyes glued on his friend, a girl the same age, very evidently the more outgoing out of the two. She was rambling enthusiastically, arms waving all over the place as he told her story down to the smallest detail, exhibiting the same spark you always had.

The boy kept a glare of pure awe as he followed her every word, seen so clearly in his eyes how much he admired her. And Kento knew how this story would continue — that night the boy would lay in his bed, the biggest smile on his face, unable to fall asleep as the day spent with his friend would play on repeat in his mind — much like Kento had spent countless nights when he was young.

It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter called for him he was able to pull his attention away from the all too familiar scene.

So polite, a sweet smile on her face as she served him the same thing he ordered every day. And then she asked how he was sleeping. It fascinated him, how this girl didn’t owe him anything, and had her own worries — like the little curse sat on her shoulder — and still showed concern for him.

He had noticed the curse before, but purposely never done anything about it. It wasn’t a proper threat, and it would be more of a hustle for him to deal with the reactions of ridding her of it than let it be. But now, having the innocent scene a few feet from him remind him of you, he quickly began to consider doing the girl a favour.

You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.

Not just that, you would probably give him crap for not exorcising it immediately. It wouldn't cost him anything to do it, so why wouldn’t he?

“Could you take a step forward, please?” Kento asked politely, the girl a little confused but doing as he said. He had your voice in the back of his mind while he easily exorcised the curse with one swift motion, the strain in her shoulder easing immediately.

“Huh? It’s lighter!” She exclaimed, rolling her arm around at the newfound relief.

“If anything still feels off, please go to the hospital,” he said with a small nod. He grabbed his food and headed for the exit, sparing one last glance at the table where the two kids sat, still deep in the conversation.

His lungs let out a deep, involuntary breath when the realisation dawned on him — he could no longer stay away, caving to his desires.

Maybe enough time had passed for it not to be considered selfish? If you had in fact found your place where you were content and comfortable, and meeting him again would be causal for you?

The questions kept circulating his mind as he pulled out his phone to dial the one person who would be able to set it all up at the blink of an eye.

His whole world stopped when he saw you, and he wondered how he had ever thought it a good idea to leave you — how could he possibly have survived all that time without you?

It was almost painful how his heart was clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be with you. It wasn’t until he felt the overwhelming pounding he realised his heart had not beat properly for the years he had spent away — meant to beat in unison with yours. His skin was turning cold as ice and the only way for it to regain its warmth was your touch, your soft embrace.

Kento hadn’t known what to expect when he saw you again, but he had certainly thought he would have more rational and coherent thoughts. Right now, it was all scrambling in his head and the only thing that appeared clearly in his mind was you, framed in the halo of your aura, taking his breath as way just as easily as when he was six.

With his body going numb, he observed you interact with Gojo and two kids he assumed were your students. You looked calm, a small smile decorating the plump line of your lips — it wasn’t as radiant as it used to be. In fact, your entire energy just seemed a little off. Maybe you had just gotten home from a mission, or it has been a hectic day in general.

Truth was not so mundane. You wished it was as simple as a long and tiring day. That would mean you could just jump in bed and sleep it off, ready to face a new day tomorrow.

But the day Kento left the jujutsu society behind, he unintentionally stole your spark with him.

You could never hate him for it though, he didn’t know. He only did what he felt like he needed to do, and you would be a terrible friend to stand in the way of that. But you had no control over how your mind decided to react.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder was something you had always heard growing up, and you had never really understood it — until faced with the situation yourself.

Not a day went by where you didn’t think of Kento. You thought of how his grin always grew slowly when watching you, eventually revealing the shy smile lines across his cheeks. The ghost of his touch, which was always dancing the line of appropriate or not, never leaving your mind. Sometimes you still felt the imprint of his arms around you.

“Don’t you guys listen to him for a second,” you chuckled, the tiniest hint of frustration in your voice. “Gojo doesn’t qualify as a responsible adult.”

His jaw fell to the ground in fake offence, eyebrows narrowing at the innocent laughs spilling from the students. “You were never this mean when we were younger,” he whined, folding his arms across his chest, looking like a stubborn child.

“That’s what you think,” you teased, nudging an elbow into his side. “You should have heard the things we said about you behind closed doors.”

His big hand came piercing through the air, pressing it against your face, gently shoving you away from the conversation. A lighthearted, but genuine, little laugh escaped you. “We don’t want to hear what you and your little boyfriend did in private,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pretending to gag at the made up memories.

Annoying as he was, Gojo had a way to actually make you forget the pain of it all for a few seconds. You would never tell him, obviously, that he managed to put the storm inside your head on hold for a second — he would rub it in your face every chance he got.

“Wait, senpai had a boyfriend when she attended here?” One of the students interjected and suddenly the mood of the conversation shifted. Gojo’s hand fell from your face before he shot you an apologetic smile.

For the most part, it was never a problem whenever Kento was brought up in the company of Gojo and Shoko. Everything was out in the open between the three of you, shared history taking away some of the pain. But whenever it slipped outside your little trio, it quickly became a sore topic.

Mouth opening and closing, trying to find the words to answer without having to give an explanation. Luckily, a painfully familiar voice called your name behind you, instantly sending a shiver down your spine.

All of you turned towards the voice, and you couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at the beautiful image of your other half standing in front of you after all these years.

Your heart’s instinct steered your body, quickly stepping away from the group and latching your arms around Kento’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t hesitate to close his strong arms around your frame, fitting right into the slots they used to fill. His familiar scent filled your senses, memories flooding back in an instant.

“Huh, speak of the devil,” Gojo mumbled.

“Him? That was her boyfriend?”

Gojo quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we,” and started rushing away the nosy teens.

Kento’s grip loosened and you pulled away, but neither of you dared let your hands leave each other. Your own hands ended up cupping his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on you until it hit you he was actually with you again — he let his rest on your waist, feeling the restlessness in him by how strongly his palms were pressing against you.

He was here. He was actually here.

There was a deafening silence filling the space of your office. You could feel it in the tension that both of you wanted to say something, but there was an unspoken pressure of saying the right thing.

So you let your eyes roam him, taking in the differences in his appearance.

He was gorgeous, same subtle handsomeness as he had always possessed, but a new confidence displaying it. Everything about him was more defined, sharp features drawing attention to his face, his muscles filling his shirt in a way they never did before.

“So, you and Gojo seem to work well together,” he swallowed, causing embarrassment to flush your face when he pulled you from your blatant admiring.

“We’ve found a rhythm that works for us, I suppose,” you shrugged.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, arms flexing as he crossed them in front of him. “That’s good. I’m glad.” His tone of his short statements seemed to imply otherwise.

“He’s surprisingly good at his job,” you laughed, “the kids like him.”

“Who would have thought,” there was a pull of his lips, like he tried to smile but it didn’t succeed entirely.

“Not me, that’s for sure. I don’t know, he just meets them were their at.” You really wanted to stop rambling about Gojo. It was so clearly just a desperate way for you to replace the quiet that plagued you without touching the elephant in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, they find him insufferable, but I think they secretly really like him. Much like the rest of us.”

“Sounds about right.”

You squinted at him, slowly growing somewhat antsy. “You’re not jealous of Gojo, are you?”

Of course you still saw right through him. He, who usually managed to hide his true feelings, would never be able to conceal them from you. And he was jealous, petrified that he had made the biggest mistake of his life and Gojo had ended up taking the place that was supposed to be for him only.

“Is there something to be jealous of?”

“You tell me.”

The tension was thick, nearly suffocating, years of yearning and pining fuelling the energy. The reunion only served as a dangerous spark that threatened to set the fuse ablaze at any second.

Why couldn’t he take the first step? He was the one who had showed up all of a sudden, and he still hadn’t given you any explanation. He owed you that much, right? But he kept letting his restlessness control him, one leg bouncing quietly against the floor, hearing how the cogs in his mind were turning.

“Why are you here?”

Your words were soft, but Kento knew you well enough to know the true feelings that lingered in the question.

“I’m coming back.”

“You’re coming back?” You weren’t able to withhold the bite that was slowly making its way into your tone.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Don’t do that,” your voice threatened to crack. “I don’t want that responsibility.”

He sighed deeply, unfolding his arms to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”

Always so polite. Always acknowledging his faults before they had the opportunity to grow. Always so damn righteous.

“What I meant to say is it looks like you’ve really managed to establish yourself here, and I wouldn’t want to come in and cause any discomfort by intruding what is essentially your space.”

The sound that escaped you next was a mixture between a flat laugh and a scoff, not entirely appreciating the way he was behaving. “Have we been apart so long you can’t talk to me like I’m your best friend?”

That had him look up at you, meeting your eyes instantly. You were sad, visible on your entire demeanour — maybe not to the average person looking, but he saw, still able to read you like an open book.

“Hope not,” he tried to smile, lips formed into a tight line that exposed how nervous he really was. His attention shifted to look at his fists folded together, words resting on his tongue, he just wanted to be sure it came out right. “I’ve missed you.” Silence. “There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t crossed my mind.”

“Sounds familiar.” There was no hiding the flush crawling up his neck and colouring the tips of his ears red at the sound of your confession.

“It was the thought of you that finally convinced me.”

“Why now?”

“Because enough time should have passed for you to thrive without me.”

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to keep waiting.”

You had him gagged, no clue how to respond. For some reason, he had refused to believe you were still hung up on him the way he was. There weren’t any reason for you to hold onto the idea of him — yet you had, for dear life.

Abruptly you stood up from your chair, hands running through your hair in frustration, trying to make sense of his sudden visit.

You stopped in your pacing, back faced him and hands on your hips — then he saw your shoulders begin to shake, followed by stifled sobs. These were the situations he always used to know what to do, moving on autopilot to bring you the comfort you needed.

Did his hands remember how to soothe you? Did his voice still know how to form the right words to say? Did his presence still know how to envelope you until you felt happy again? There was only one way to find out.

Quickly stepping over to you, his hands hovered over your shoulders for a second in fear. He swallowed his selfishness and let them land to settle the bouncing, leaning his head forward to rest it against the back of yours, the smell of your shampoo surrounding him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and it only seemed like his apology opened the valve, no longer able to choke your sobs. Your hands left your hips to cover your face, muffling the sadness tumbling out in one stream.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to mutter, head moving to press it to the side of your face. One hand traveled across your collarbone, the other around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, determined to hold you there until he was absolutely certain you were okay.

He would stand there the whole night if he needed to.

Slowly but surely, your sobs came to a stop, your trembling eventually easing against his body. But he didn’t loosen his grip, not until he felt you shift in his arms to face him.

Cry painted cheeks, delicate red rim around your eyes, glossy irises that stared right into the deepest parts of him that only you had access to.

Everything started to fall back into place, his big hand cupping your cheek as he stroked your hair out of your face. He let his eyes dart delicately across your face, taking in every single detail.

Then he let his longing get the best of him, thumb graciously tracing your bottom lip turned swollen from when you tried to swallow your sobs.

There was slight hesitation while he leaned forward, never having experienced time moving as slow as you waited for his lips to connect with yours. First, he let his nose brush against yours, testing the waters.

Please.

You felt his breath.

Don’t make me wait any longer.

Sparks.

Soft lips pressed against yours, moving tenderly in unison that sent intense sparks through your body from head to toe. The moment easily surpassed any of the fantasies you’d had of kissing him.

Needy fingers traveled up his broad chest before hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer — it still didn’t feel close enough.

Kento poured everything he had always wanted to say into the kiss — and he knew you understood. If he had learned anything from everything you had been through together, it was he could always trust you were able to understand him completely, even without anything being said.

When you pulled away you found yourself breathless. Meeting his eyes again, unexpected shyness you weren’t used to experience with Kento had you hide your face in his chest.

The roles had reversed, his warm chuckle serving as a comforting blanket. Oh, how you had missed that melody.

“Took you long enough,” you mumbled, hoping the teasing would have your normal confidence return.

His finger found your chin to tilt your head up, capturing your gaze. “Yeah, I should have done it ages ago.”

The previous sadness still lingered, and it was evident you still had a lot to talk about. But right now it was nice to just wallow in his presence again. It was way overdue, feeling like it should have been like this since forever.

“I really am sorry.”

“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you.” Your innocent jab was received with a dashing smile, tingles spreading throughout your limbs at the sight.

“Hope so, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly before he leaned in again.

They sat staring at each other, Kento with a raised eyebrow while a grumpy Gojo was positioned on the couch opposite him, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.

“You used to be nice.”

Kento scoffed at his colleague’s childish behaviour. “I still am, you’re just upset you’re not getting it your way.”

“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.

“Why? What do you mean why? Because it’s not your wedding.”

“Were you always this boring?”

“Most definitely.”

“Will you guys please shut up?” You interrupted, unable to ignore them anymore. You had desperately tried to block them out as you were doing some paperwork you should have done ages ago.

“He started it!” Gojo pointed at Kento, which only had him roll his eyes.

“You know what,” you sighed as you gathered your stuff and raised from behind the desk. “It’s with a heavy heart I leave you, but I need to get this done by the end of the day.” You stopped behind Kento, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, honey,” he said genuinely as he gazed up at you lovingly.

“I am not asking for much-“ Gojo continued to argue before you interrupted him.

“Will you pay for it?”

“Is that all it’ll take?” He beamed, and you nodded. “Of course! Done! How much do you need?”

“You’re too lenient when it comes to him,” Kento sighed.

“It’s not the craziest thing he could request. He’ll get his endless supply of sweets, and you won’t have to listen to his obnoxious nagging anymore.”

“I’m sitting right here.” Both you and Kento ignored him.

“I really have to get this work done though,” you sighed, hand squeezing his shoulder.

“See you at home?” His loving smile had you lean down to press your lips tenderly against his.

“See you at home.”

“I’ll have dinner ready.”

“God, I love you.”

Then he flashed you that smile — the smile which was reserved solely as a response whenever you said those three words he used to dream of hearing from you.

It was funny really, how after everything things would turn out exactly how he as always wanted them to. Despite the hopelessness he had felt and all the pain you had endured — both together and apart — would eventually lead up to the happy ending he had dreamed of since the young age of five.

He knew he would do it all over again, in every universe, if it ensured this outcome.

“I love you too.”

tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru

an anon, i am so sorry if this ended up longer than you wanted it. idk what happened, bc it just kept on snowballing <3 however, i am very touched you wanted me to do this request. warms my heart. hope it turned out okay mwah also, if you've read my satoru childhood friends to lovers fic and see any similarities, no you don't comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[callsign-swan]

Alone Together

For the last few years, Tony's daughter has been living out in the tower basement. She doesn't realise when Valentina buys the tower, not until she's being choked out by Sentry (turns out Sentry is a really sweet guy called Bob, who knew?)

Warnings: Slight thunderbolts spoilers

The last few years had been... content.

Everybody thought she disappeared, off the grid once her dad died. Some people tried to look; Happy, Pepper, some guy she was sure she knew but couldn't remember.

They didn't find her, she made sure of that. Wiped her name from every record, lived off of the small fortune her father had left her.

She wasn't a great engineer like her father, didn't spend her time making useful stuff like he did. She still made stuff, it just wasn't useful.

Spare parts, the basement was full of them. Scraps her father disregarded, that he didn't need. She was desperately trying to turn the scraps into something useful, but it wasn’t that easy.

So far, she'd built a computer. Well, she more rebuilt an old computer and used scrap metal to hide the wires. It was one of her proudest accomplishments.

Nobody knew she was in the basement. But it didn’t matter, since the old Avengers Tower had been vacant. If someone bought, she would have known.

(No, she didn't know that the tower had been bought. She didn't know that Valentina was moving in).

All of her details were still in the tower system; it was easy enough to hack into the intercom. She didn't do much with it, isolated it to the basement to play her music while she worked.

It was hard, trying to live up to greatness. It was even harder knowing you'll never be able to achieve it.

Rarely did she travel to other floors. If she did, she would have known about Valentina. If she did, she would have been arrested on the spot.

No daddy to bail her out this time. And Pepper wouldn't bother, she thought.

Maybe if she knew, she would have stayed in the basement, gathered up her things and moved out. She wouldn't have gotten in the elevator to get parts out of the floor. Parts her dad used to make machines to take off the Iron Man suite the second he stepped into the building.

Stepping into the elevator with an empty box in her hand and a screwdriver in her pocket, she pressed the necessary button. The doors slid closed and she began travelling up.

So many floors, but it took no time at all. That was her dad's doing. This entire place was her dad's doing. (Maybe that's why she couldn't leave it behind).

The elevator doors should have slid open to reveal nothing. An empty floor, exactly how the Avengers had left it. The bar her dad left nearly fully stocked before they moved to the compound.

But that wasn't the sight that greeted her.

People in the tower. There shouldn't have been people in the tower. Oh, she had fucked up.

They were mid fight, that much was obvious. The blonde guy in the ridiculous suit held Bucky's fist in his hand like he wasn't fighting a super soldier with a vibranium arm.

But the fight had stopped as everybody in the room stared at her. Goldilocks, discount Steve Rogers, blonde bombshell, soviet santa, mystery person and Bucky.

"You've got to be kidding me."

It was Bucky that said it, pulling his fist out of Goldilock's grip. In the moment of confusion, Goldilocks let him go, his gaze on her.

She resisted the urge to step back into the elevator. "I..." But she couldn't find the words. "What're you doing in my house?"

"Your house?"

She hadn't noticed the woman until now. Dark hair, grey in the front so pretty that it looked silver. Definitely dyed, but it looked good.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I bought this property and you are trespassing."

Her eyes went wide, grip on her empty cardboard box growing tighter. "Oh," she said, the air in the room becoming uncomfortable. But then she furrowed her brows. "Really? Because I've been living here for a while."

The woman's mouth dropped open. "How long- You know what? I don't care." She snapped her fingers. "Sentry."

Suddenly, she was moving through the air. Not of her own volition, she had no sort of power. In less than seconds, she was in front of Goldilocks, his fingers wrapping around her neck.

In her struggle, she gripped his wrist, tried to get out of his grip. But he was impossibly, terrifyingly strong.

There was something in his blue gaze that was soft. Suddenly, he let go of her. Her feet hit the floor and he stepped away from her. "Sorry, I... you don't deserve this," he mumbled.

Her hand found her own neck. He didn't have her in a strong grip, but it still hurt so damn much.

But she couldn't stop staring at him. Sentry. She had no doubt he had the potential to look terrifying, but he didn't in that moment. Regret shined in his blue eyes.

A hand grabbed her, pulling her back. She, along with Bucky, Discount Steve Rogers, Mystery Person, Blonde Bombshell, and Soviet Santa, ran towards the elevator.

They squeezed in and travelled down.

"What the fuck?" Bucky called as he pulled her out of the building. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

She pulled her hand out of Bucky's grip. "I've been living here, Barnes," she called back, shoving her hands into her pockets. The screwdriver still sat there, the cardboard box back in the tower.

"Why aren't you with Pepper?"

A scoff left her lips, sounding more like a child than the adult she actually was. But that was one of the reasons she was in the tower in the first place, because she was sick of everyone treating her like a kid.

She released a breath and looked back towards the tower. "What the hell was that?" She asked, completely changing the subject.

Bucky let her. He didn't have it in himself to argue. But he wasn't going to answer her.

"That was Bob," came a new voice.

Her eyebrows went up. "Bob?"

"Bob."

She swallowed thickly. "What the hell is Bob?"

***

The New Avengers.

The name had her stomach rolling. The world didn't need the Avengers, did it? The only reason they'd needed the New Avengers was Valentina's own doing.

But here they were, in the Avengers - no - Watchtower. Bucky let her stay. He gave her conditions to her stay, but he didn't kick her out, didn't drag her kicking and screaming back to Pepper.

As long as she pulled her weight. As long as she worked, did the necessary repairs when they were needed. Sure, she was nothing like her father, but she had her own skills.

Bob was just Bob. Hair now brown, soft sweaters, books. No more blonde hair, no more shadow monster man (yes, she knew Sentry is more than that, but that was her way of referring to it. That was of referring to it sometimes pulled a smile from Bob).

No super soldier serum, no specialised training, no... whatever Ava was. Sure, he had incredibly strong powers, but they were safely tucked away and Bob was happy.

The two didn't immediately find themselves drawn to each other. She was curious, sure, but Bob didn't remember. He didn't have the answers for her.

But they found themselves left behind during missions. There was nothing wrong with that - how were they supposed to help the team?

The first few times, they kept to themselves. She didn't mind the isolation, that was how she lives when the tower was empty. But she watched Bob. Just what he was doing, how he entertained himself. His life had been full of tragedy, just like hers had been. Individual tragedies, but it made her curious about him.

On the teams third mission, their third time alone in the Watchtower together, she sat beside Bob.

"Whatcha reading?" She asked as she toed off her shoes and tucked her legs beneath her body.

Bob showed her the cover of his book, his finger slipped between the pages.

She patted her thighs, her fingers drumming against her skin. "Is it good?" She asked and Bob gave a nod.

Bob was a quiet guy. She'd learnt this through their limited interactions. But he wasn't usually this quiet. He at least had an answer for her.

So, she kept talking.

"You know, I lived here as a kid," she mumbled, laying back. Everything was different now it was the Watchtower. The bar her father so lovingly put in place was gone (but that was definitely a good thing).

Bob closed his book. "You're Tony Starks kid, right?" Her asked, one leg folded beneath the other, the other hanging off the edge of the sofa.

She gave a nod. "Yeah, grew up around the first round of Avengers," she mumbled.

Turning his head slightly, Bob let his hand rest in his wrist. He'd had a haircut since everything happened, him and Yelena in the bathroom with a pair of scissors. His hair was still a little bit wild, but it suited him.

"Why'd you live in the basement?"

Not the question she was expecting, but she didn't shy away from it. "Spent a lot of time in there as a kid," she answered. "Just felt right being in there."

It was more than that, clearly more than that, but Bob didn't pry.

He stood up. "Hungry?" He asked, watching as her eyebrows went up.

"You cook?" She couldn't help but ask.

Bob went to nod, but he stopped himself. "How hard can it be?" He tried, releasing a breath that suggested he didn't think it was going to be very easy at all.

She pushed herself up from the sofa. "I'll help," she said and went to follow him into the kitchen.

But Bob didn't move. "You cook?" He parroted.

A grin came across her face. "How hard can it be?"

Turns out, pretty fucking hard. Neither of them knew what they were cooking, and that was the first issue. The both of them were just pulling things out of the fridge and trying to decide what to do with it.

Chicken in a pan (plain and neither of them quite knew how to flavour it), spaghetti in boiling water (neither of them knew what to do for sauce), and a garlic bread pizza in the oven (the only promising part of the meal).

Bob pulled salt from the cupboard and seasoned the spaghetti.

"Fuck," she suddenly cried, fridge door open.

Bob raised his head, eyes wide as he looked at her. "What?" He asked, panicking slightly.

"This is John's boring chicken," she said, pushing the fridge door shut. Like she could hide the evidence if she just shut the fridge door.

"Shit," Bob replied as he turned it in the pan (one side finally looked cooked, but both of them knew not to trust it. Just a few more minutes and they'd check the inside).

"He's gonna kill us."

Bob nodded. "We're gonna die."

But then, they laughed. "If John really does try and kill us, you gotta protect me, okay?" She muttered, stirring the spaghetti in the boiling water. "All I got is this." She pulled the screwdriver from her pocket. She was never seen without it now.

"I'll protect you," he assured her, "I'll keep you safe."

Fear of John Walker was a great foundation for a friendship, as it turned out.

part one maybe?

[syluses]

big girls dont cry QNA

i know you guys have lots of curiosities about this fic lolll so i’ll try to answer some of the questions i received (∗ᵕ̴᷄◡ᵕ̴᷅∗) 💕 if u still have some, just shoot me an ask!! :] also im really bad at explaining so i apologize 🤦🏻‍♀️ i have the plot nailed in my head but its tricky to articulate it in a clear, linear way for yall considering all the little nuances i added lol. i’ll try my best tho hehe :,)

Okay so there’s a whole ‘nother plot that exists in the background of this fic- which was super fun for me to write, but im sure from a reader standpoint it’s also kinda thrilling to try to connect the dots i left lol. thats why theres so many interpretations for this story (which i love!! i loved reading all yall’s theories)! 💕 BUT. that being said, the ‘canon’ goes like this:

SPOILERS BELOW read it first then come back! ( ⸍ɞ̴̶̷ ·̫ ɞ̴̶̷⸌ )

was caleb really dead?

No. Caleb staged his own death and then, similar to the main story homecoming wings, didnt tell mc :,) for his own reasons, for a time, he decides he’ll let her go on believing he’s truly gone…

why did he stage his death?

I dropped little crumbs of it in the fic, but it’s hinted that mc, on top of all her grief, feels a bit bitter over the whole shebang and also blames herself for it. hmm… why would that be? 🤔 well because their final moments together (or so she THOUGHT) were emotionally charged and volatile.

the foundation of their sibling relationship was growing weaker and weaker before the explosion. arguments are forming out of nowhere- things are becoming more tense and mc, for the life of her, can’t understand why her gege is always pulling her into a heated debate about safety, danger, blahblahblah, this that and the third, every time they interact. He’s being wildly unreasonable, which she knows, and protective- a trait that has snowballed as they entered their adulthood- but what she doesn’t know is the why behind it. she tells herself she just has a super protective older brother who views her as a little baby in need of his guidance- which isn’t entirely wrong… but she doesn’t see the full picture. His true feelings. All this tension eventually climbs to its peak. Caleb just gets worse and worse. He needs to do something before the world collapses on them both.

Now, in this au, he works at EVER, a somewhat shady but lucrative company- which dabbles in robotics amongst other things. I imagine they have abundant resources and wealth- and what with his promotions, it’s safe to say caleb is making a LOT. So, the delusional guy he is, he buys a big fancy suite with the idea in mind of two eventually living in it ;) but mc doesn’t want to- she has her own life in linkon!! She wants to spread her wings and separate from the nest anyway. Partly to start her own life; partly to prove to her gege that she can take care of herself. The argument that unfolds over this is the last they have before the big tragic explosion 😭 caleb, putting on a show with his beaten puppy eyes, leaves and then that’s the last time she sees him.

Caleb meticulously plans his ‘death’ out (with some help from his wingman ofc) and then eventually the robot is introduced to mc. It serves as a trojan horse. He’ll finally conquer her heart with it and win full autonomy over her. THIS IS HIS MAIN GOAL WITH THE ROBOT. WHY HE EVEN DOES ANY OF THIS TO BEGIN WITH.

Caleb gets to spy on mc with it and also slowly reshape her to accept his feelings; his ‘death’ has left her in a fragile state of mourning and he knows, after she warms up a bit to not-Caleb, he can more or less get away with anything- bc she will claw for whatever’s left of her family member. He can make her finally reciprocate and understand him— whether that be his feelings or fear or love. He tried to be patient, to be good, but obviously he had to travel a new route. He’s thinking of her 24/7. He’s obsessive, longing, protective, you name it- and all of this just worsens the more she denies him. When push comes to shove… well, caleb will do whatever it takes to win her :] He knows it’s unconventional and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt him too- monitoring his endearingly stubborn, but sweet meimei and the shattered pieces he left of her through his android’s eyes— but it’s all temporary, and he truly believes it’s for the better.

did gideon know?

Yes, Gideon knew all along. He’s Caleb’s best buddy after all. To be matter of fact- Gideon didn’t just know, he quite literally ‘herded’ mc into the lion’s den in a way. Mc knew vaguely of their work at EVER, but not too much; so Gideon was the one who shined that light on their robotics and really introduced her to the concept of not-Caleb. Now, i wouldnt say Gideon is exactly comfortable with his involvement, but he actually really does care for mc and thinks she needs that help- as dubious as the means are. Anyway, it’s almost impossible to shut out all of his buddy’s demands: the brunet is nothing if not insistent on getting what he wants. In his own whacky way, Gideon thinks what he did- playing into Caleb’s plan- was for the better as well. I mean, Mc clearly wasnt doing good before not-Caleb came along,… but with the few visits he managed before the android got a little too stingy and sent him off, Gideon actually managed to catch a smile or two from her! So clearly he did the right thing 👀 not to mention… the real caleb seems very pleased with the progress, too. besides- the whole robot situation is temporary anyway :] She’ll be reuniting with the beloved gege she misses so much sooner rather than later.

how accurate was not-caleb?

His programming is like 100% accurate. Mc, for a mix of both naiveity and delusion, thinks not-Caleb is flawed when he starts to show signs of amorous/romantic feelings for her. Really, though, after she tells him to stay the night with her (innocently; and after years of having not shared the same childhood twin bed), it triggers a part of his ‘brain’ that undoes all real caleb’s self restraint thus far :] If the same exact situation happened with the real caleb, his reaction would’ve more or less been the same. Homeboy can only keep his feelings in check for so long

who programmed not-caleb?

Real Caleb

how is mc pregnant?

Because the robot’s creator wanted to add his own special touch to his work if you know what i mean :) yeah he’s a freak like that. Dont think he WOULDNT install in his robot the ability to indirectly knock his ‘meimei’ up. I will say though, that while caleb wants to get mc pregnant, its not fully bc he wants to start a family- at least not right away- but because he wants to emotionally and legally trap her with him. Besides monitoring her/wearing down her walls while she thought he was ‘dead’, this was actually one of caleb’s biggest goals with sending not-caleb into her home.

is not-caleb self-aware?

Yes

what’s real caleb been doing all this time?

Basically climbing the ranks of EVER from his lil perch somewhere in skyhaven. all the while, of course, spying on mc like a hawk. Biding his time & waiting for the right moment when she’s at her weakest, most codependent state to replace his carbon copy :)

was caleb controlling his robot?

No. But he essentially created its whole program. And there are cameras inside its eyes in which he watches mc from :) and cant help but snap pics with sometimes: she’s just so pretty— and endlessly sexy when he finally, in a vicarious way, gets to lie her back and make love to her <3

what is real caleb’s motive/ultimate goal?

1. to control/protect/‘tame’ mc through the robot; get her to see things from his point of view (which means realizing she belongs with him- where it’s safe and he can protect & love her)

2. to knock her up (hence the. ahem. reproductive abilities of the robot) so that he can trap her with a baby on top of all the other emotional strings he’s hogtied her with.

does gideon want mc too?

the question is not would gideon smash her. the question is would caleb LET him…. 👀

also, below i just attached a screenie from some of the notes i took. theyre ofc a little disjointed but i think it might clarify things too :] im so bad at answering questions esp for a plot this spiraling but i really tried my best guys my brain is tired forgive me :,)

[gffa]

*bungee jumping down the arcane fic rabbit hole* got any fic recs?

Save that bungee rope, we're going to need it to get the next person down here, too. And I do have a few recs I've enjoyed! (If you guys have any fics you want to rec that you've enjoyed in this fandom, I'm all ears. I'm still trying to navigate my way through the absolutely massive amounts and my usual method of finding authors I recognize from other fandoms is failing me because APPARENTLY WE HAVE WORK TO DO TO MAKE YOU ALL COME DOWN HERE WITH US.) JAYVIK RECS: (Current brainrot extraordinaire.) ✦ Begin Again by egg_thief, jayce/viktor, nsfw, post-canon, 3.3k or: Jayce and Viktor’s existence continues, somewhere out in the cosmos ✦ not to me, not if it's you by brewstersbru, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 2k They were supposed to die, then, a better ending than Viktor expected. Far sweeter than he deserved. Jayce’s hand warm and broad against his neck, foreheads tipped together, breaths fanning over skin. It was neat. It was nice. And then he woke up, splayed in a field, draped in the tatters of Jayce’s blanket. A groan rose from his left, then some pitiful shuffling before a final, loud thump, accompanied by a slight warble. ✦ the sun is an apricot promise by chicandcheesy, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 5.4k Six months after they destroy the Hexcore, Jayce and Viktor try to settle into a new life as friends. Partners. Turns out they love each other a little too much. ✦ The Softer the Skin, the Sharper the Teeth by ticketytockety, jayce/viktor, nsfw, spoilers, 5.4k During his time trapped in a devastated, apocalyptic world that does not belong to him, Jayce manages a temporary escape to somewhere else. Sometime else. ✦ The butterflies we feel by writin, jayce/viktor, time travel, 8.6k wip It was only right to offer Jayce one last thing: himself. A fleeting moment of shameless intimacy. There was no past, no future — only them, and everything they were willing to give. One final gift, for both of them. Or; S2 Jayce meets S1 Viktor, but there are consequences.

ZAUNDADS RECS: (Don't judge me, the artbook t-boned me with feelings, it's not my fault!) ✦ patience by orphan_account, zander/silco, nsfw, 7.6k He’s been dead five years when he shows up at The Drop unannounced. Vander can't be sure if this makes an already bad week better, or worse.

TIMEBOMB RECS: (This one also side-swiped me out of nowhere, officer, it's not my fault, either!) ✦ better to be poorly accompanied than to be alone by ajstyling, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 2.9k A long time ago, Ekko made a promise. Now he just hopes Jinx will give him the chance to keep it. ✦ the cycle of lonely creatures by red_dragon_rising, ekko/jinx & caitlyn/vi, post-canon, 7.4k So it happens that Caitlyn is now hiding Piltover’s most wanted terrorist and the murderer of her mother inside her ancestral home. So it happens that she’s become a traitor to her city. So it happens, because the girl is Vi’s sister. (AU: Vi dies with Warwick) ✦ pluto by zippe, ekko/jinx & vi, post-canon, 4.2k Ekko and Jinx, time after time

[turquoizxe]

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

Ekko x Fem!Reader

content ― arcane s2 spoilers!!, drabble/hc; fluff, some angst, Ekko is absolutely smitten for the reader, friends to lovers, suggestive *in very few areas

author's note ― there's not enough drabbles/fics for Ekko and its pissing me awf. I must intervene.

wc ― 0.974k

Ekko wasn't sure if he'd find anyone else after Jinx

He had no choice but to live without her, even after experiencing what could have been had things been different.

It ate at him, constantly, knowing what their lives could have been, but he loved his home enough to save it

After the Vigil, Ekko kept to himself for quite sometime

He remained with his Firelights, continuing to redevelop his haven after everything that occurred

Remaining occupied meant he didn't have enough time to sit and think about all that had unraveled the past few months

On the days he was left in solitude, he sketched and tried to remember the best parts, or how to move ahead

He'd reunite with Vi every now and again, but she was busy handling her own business with Caitlyn. The environment had changed, and it was hard to tell if it was for the best or the worst

He would travel to Piltover more frequently, but it was harder due to the memories it held, and he didn't see much of a point in staying outside of grabbing supplies

You met Ekko while on a supply run, stealing the last stock of bolts he needed. He was having an awful day when you ran into him, so his demeanor was one he wasn't sure he had in him

Despite this, you still offered to share your bolts, if he wasn't being an ass, and if he showed you what he was working on for him to be so frustrated with a stranger

He was careful not to yet invite you to the home that he shares with the Firelights

You were understanding of his skepticism and invited him to your workshop instead, just outside of Piltover, but not necessarily in the area of Zaun

The device he showed you felt far more valuable than what you had been working on. Despite its rickety condition, he spoke of it so passionately, and you could tell this craft was something he was passionate about

You invited him back, and you gave him the hours you would usually be here if he was ever comfortable returning

After your first encounter, you weren't sure if he'd be back, but it shockingly didn't take long for him to return

What became maybe once a week, turned to twice, and then frequent visits

You'd both would often go on runs together, and when Ekko wasn't with the Firelights, he found himself spending more time in Piltover, but mainly if you were involved in that exploration

The first night after you met, he didn't get much sleep. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had made him feel that way; It felt so instant, without hesitation or question

He would have called you an idiot for being so trusting to a stranger, but he felt like a fool for the emotions he was already experiencing.

It was hard for him to process how the chemistry you exude when together was automatic.

As time went on, he let his guard down around you, when he was around you, it all felt natural. A year had gone by without either of you noticing

The night, when the anniversary of the Mass Vigil was held, he stayed longer than you both had expected, a lingering tension between the two of you.

Even without talking, the lack of conversation made him feel vulnerable― susceptible to questions he wasn't sure if he was ready to answer yet

The wounds were still so fresh, you had half the mind to not ask if he knew anyone that was lost in the war, but before you could ask, he went off into the night, leaving you to wallow in your own thoughts

Weeks had passed since you had seen him

These days, you don't hear much from Ekko. And even when you mourned his lack of presence, it hadn't taken much time before it started to anger you

Ekko had realized long ago that he had feelings for you. He often fought the urge to be defenseless around those he cared for most. He wasn't sure if that was possible with you until it was

He was so enamored with you and never missed a moment to brag to his colleagues about your brilliance

You reminded him so much of her, and you deserved to be your own person in his eyes. He feared that if this went any further, he'd try to create comparisons that weren't fair to either of you.

The more time you spent apart, he spent more time admiring the distinctions. The emotions you evoked from him felt foreign. He couldn't place a finger on it, but he wanted to explore it further

More weeks had passed before he showed up at your workshop, knocking at your door instead of climbing through the window like he used to. The change in behaviors made you pout a bit more than what was already plastered on your face

Ekko had revealed his creation, the device he had been working on for weeks. The bolts you had landed him were engraved with your initials

You sat him down, spending time to catch up. While you wanted to be mad, you weren't sure if the feelings you were experiencing were even mutual, until he made riddance of your doubts

He didn't make it back to the Firelights that night, spending the night wrapped and reveling in passion that had been festering itself. You had never been this intimate, the night filled with nervous laughs and mistakes, but it made him feel human again

The walls he had worked to build had swiftly crumbled whenever you came into the picture

There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for you, and he'd fight just as hard to save you

No matter the universe

― turquoizxe

[kingkatsuki]

This is the first time in a long, long time that I’ve actually been proud of a fic so I really hope you enjoy it. I’m already formulating a second part in my mind, or maybe a third who knows.

Summary: Sanemi knew you would always be his beacon of light, the only brightness in this dark pathetic world. At night he’d stare up at the same night sky as you, wondering if this is what you were doing right now too— searching out for the North Star that would help guide him back home to you.

All you have with Sanemi Shinazugawa are fleeting moments together, while he tries so desperately not to give you his heart.

Warnings: 18+, blood!mention, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, foreplay, sex with feelings, light choking, Sanemi calls us a slut once, fingering, breeding!mention, slight spoilers for the final arc but moreso to do with Sanemi’s appearance.

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader. 

Word Count: 6.3k.

You always enjoyed watching the stars. Constellations swirling above granted you a cherished moment to forget about the mundane routine of life. A welcome break between the early rise of working beneath your father at the family bakehouse, slaving away until each loaf was sold before leaving you to clean up the mess. The local Izakaya called his name as he would not return home until what little profit he’d earned was squandered. 

You couldn't even blame him, this wasn’t the life that either of you had wanted or planned for. 

Your brother, who was training to become a demon slayer, now dead. Your mother ran away with a travelling merchant she’d met in the village after as though to numb the pain of losing him. You weren’t even sure if she was still alive, but you wondered if she’d been granted the chance of a new start. A new family— forgetting all about you in the process as you were left to this pitiful existence with your drunk of a father.

This was the only time you truly felt serene. Your back was flat against the dewy grass as the cool evening chill whipped at your ankles, toes almost numb from the chill as your eyes met where one pattern ended and another began. 

The crunch of footsteps through gravel broke you from your daydream as you jolted straight, wide eyes snapping towards the source of the noise as you noticed a white-haired man hunched over. 

“Sanemi?” You had to blink to ensure your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the soft candlelight from your home only enough to add a gentle glow to your surroundings as you stood. 

Bare feet rushed through sodden grass as you felt the ache of small pebbles digging into your soles as you made your way towards him, trying to ignore the way the gravel seemed to indent into your skin as you reached him. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, the last time you’d felt him— you weren’t even certain he was still alive until now. 

He stopped you when you were close enough, rough palms gripping your arms to keep you at bay. Sanemi’s touch was always bruising, but you knew better than to think he was trying to push you away. You’d learned a long time ago that he struggled to articulate his feelings, and something that once had your heart aching now filled you with a comforting warmth. 

“I don’t want to get you dirty.” He shook his head, and it was then you noticed the blood and grime that doused him. 

Wondering whether the blood was his, dried crimson caked his skin and the torn fabric of his haori. Wondering if he’d noticed, nor even cared if it was. You felt tears begin to clump in your lashes as you stared up at his lilac eyes, hands reaching out for him despite being held back as you gently prised yourself out of his grip. 

“Didn’t I tell you not to stay out this late alone,” He growled, “It’s not safe.”

“I have the sword you left,” You smile up at him, anxious to reach out and hold him, “I remember how to use it.”

Sanemi feels his chest swell with pride that you do, after spending the time to teach you how to properly defend yourself from all the bad in the world. The darkness that shouldn’t sully your perfect soul, although he notices that the sword is nowhere to be seen in the grass beside you.

“I’m unsure what use it is to you when it’s lying more than a stone's throw away.” 

“I’ll bring it with me next time,” You laugh, and Sanemi feels himself physically relax at the tone. 

Once Sanemi was sure you weren’t going to jump him and ruin your pretty night kimono he let go, allowing you to reach up and place a palm against his cheek as he leaned into your touch. Your hands were freezing from being out in the cool evening air, but his cheek blazed with heat. It was comforting as he exhaled softly, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment to indulge himself with the feeling of you. The saccharine scent of you invaded his senses as his calloused palms found purchase on your hips, gripping you tight as though trying to convince himself that you were real. 

His chest was heaving, which made you wonder if he’d struggled to make it here, noticing a fresh gash against his pectoral that answered your question about the source of all the blood. 

“Sanemi, you’re hurt.” You mumbled, noticing the blood now dripping onto the gravel beneath your toes. 

“‘m fine,” He shook his head, but the state of him seemed otherwise. 

“No, you’re not,” You frowned, scrunching your nose so cutely that Sanemi had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss you. 

“I’m fine, woman,” He barked, but there was no bite. Not to you, “I’ve dealt with far worse.”

“Even so,” You shook your head, taking one of his hands in your own, “I’d hate for you to have made it this far just to be scuppered by a surface wound.” Sanemi’s lips curled into a genuine smile at that, teeth bared as he allowed you to lead him back towards your home, “Let me bandage it up so it doesn’t become infected.” 

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating the Wind Pillar, despite his numerous attempts to push you away. Telling you it was for your own good, to keep you safe. That you deserved better. And Sanemi was certain that was true, you deserved someone far better than him. Someone that would treat you well, and not leave you wondering whether you'd ever see him again. It was selfish really, for him to expect you to wait for him each time. To settle for fleeting moments and stolen kisses— but it was your fault, you’d done this. You’d made him fall for you. And what good was living a safe life if it didn’t include him?

You lead him around your small nagaya, the bills so high you were certain it wouldn’t be yours for much longer. But you didn’t want to trudge blood through the house and have to explain it to your father when he woke up. 

“Let me carry you,” Sanemi started as he noticed your bare soles stepping through the pebbled path, his grip on your hand tightening.

He didn’t even question why you weren’t wearing sandals, like most other men probably would. He knew you loved the stars. It’s as though he understood the exact reason you’d been out here without them, despite the dangers of being alone and vulnerable so late at night. Sanemi knew every part of you, probably even better than you knew yourself and yet somehow he would never quite afford you that same luxury. Always trying to keep you at arm's length, in his own selfish way of protecting you. Or so he thought—

“I’m quite alright to walk, Shinazugawa.” You teased, and you could practically feel the growl vibrate through him once you’d called him by his family name. 

“When have I ever been known as Shinazugawa to you?” He sneered, but followed behind as you opened the sliding door.

“I seem to remember you demanding I call you that when my brother trained under you, Shinazugawa.” You smiled softly, ignoring the gentle pang in your heart at the loss of your sibling, “I remember you calling me rather annoying too.”

“I called you a pain in my ass, actually.” He delighted in the sweet laughter that surrounded him at that memory, as he kicked his shoes off at the door.

Sanemi was silent as you sat him down on the wooden floor in the room where you slept as you began to grab the items you would need to patch him up, closing the sliding door behind you as you returned to find him dozing against your futon. 

“Oi,” You teased, a habit you’d picked up from him, “Don’t fall asleep yet, you might have a concussion.”

“You think I’m foolish enough to let a demon near my head, woman?” 

“No,” You smiled, kneeling beside him as you pulled back the open front of his demon slayer uniform, “But you are foolish enough to hit your head.”

Sanemi’s glare had you breaking out into a soft giggle as you tried to quieten yourself so as not to wake any of the sleeping occupants nearby, shaking your head as he allowed you to work at the wound that marked his skin. Teeth clenched as you pressed gauze against it before bandaging it to prevent dirt from entering the wound. You were glad it didn’t appear to be deep, and would certainly not leave a scar as impressive as the ones that already littered his skin. But as it was still bleeding when he’d arrived, you wondered how long it had been since his battle. 

“Why did you come here?” You mumbled as you finished up your haphazard attempt at bandaging his wound. Something you’d learned to do the first time your father had returned home drunk and knocked his head falling over the entry step whilst removing his sandals. A skill you’d tried to hone over the years, but to this day it still seemed to be a work in progress.

But of course, Sanemi still came to you, even though he’d certainly receive better care from the Butterfly Mansion. Or at the very least a better dose of medication to relieve the pain— but time and time again he’d always leave you with the same response.

“I always find my way back to you.” 

Which is why he navigated towards you like a compass searching for the North Star. And even after all this time, you still continued to ask the same question. Because you liked the sound of the answer that left his lips. 

“You’re foolish to think I take better care of you than the Kakushi there,” You smiled down at him as he grumbled beneath you. 

“And yet I’m still alive.”

“I’m unsure whether that’s by luck or chance, but it’s certainly not because of me.” You snort, shaking your head as you reach for the warm water you’d prepared to help clean his dirty skin. Soaking a soft cloth before you began to run it against his forehead and cheeks. 

“There’s no need for that,” He scoffs, his large palm wraps around your wrist to pull you away from him as you frown. 

“You’re filthy, Sanemi.” You scrunch your nose, “And you stink.” 

You were ashamed to admit to him that you loved the way he smelt. His musky sweat was laced with the scent of grass and the rice bran he’d used to wash days earlier. You always found yourself basking in it, allowing it to intoxicate you as you fell even deeper. 

“You’ve never had a problem with me being filthy before.” Sanemi ponders, his hand reaching up to smooth over the soft curve of your hip, “In fact, I’m certain I remember you saying you liked it.”

Your cheeks burned from his implication, feeling the neglected space between your thighs throb with desire as you subtly shifted thigh to thigh. A movement that didn’t go unnoticed by the hashira below you, a cocky smirk on his face as he flattened his palm on your lower back. Pushing down to bring you closer to him, your face hovering mere inches from his own as his warm breath fanned your face. 

“I missed you,” You hum softly, admiring the way the flickering burn of your lantern illuminated his chiselled face. Your lips brushed over his own in the faintest kiss, his fingers tightening in the fabric of your nightdress as he tried to pull you back to repeat the motion. 

“Not as much as me,” He husked, reaching his other hand up to hold the back of your neck. Two fingers dug into the curve while his calloused thumb stroked your jaw, reconnecting your lips in a deeper kiss. His nose bumped against yours before tilting his head to the side to push his tongue into your eager mouth, finding your own as he swallowed the desperate whine that threatened to spill. 

You’d missed this, missed him. Your hands threaded through his messy white hair as your nails dragged against his scalp, causing Sanemi to grunt as he pulled you down to the futon beside him. Curving his frame over you as he groaned deep and low in his throat from the intense pain that shot through his side from the sudden movement. 

“Sanemi, you shouldn’t move,” You stared up at him in worry as you broke the kiss, a snarl of irritation appearing on his face as he tried to bring you back to him, “You’re hurt.” 

“Shut up,” He snarled, but there was no real malice behind it. 

He was far rougher this time as if trying to prove to you that he was fit to do this— to take care of you. Settling himself between your parted thighs as you felt him lean himself on you, a comforting weight as you reconnected your lips. His kiss was far more ferocious, a mess of tongue and teeth as hands disappeared beneath the silken fabric of your night dress. Bunching the material around your hips as he lurched forward, pressing his desire against your clothed core as he swallowed your whines. 

You could tell he was exercising restraint. Wanting nothing more than to rip the fabric from your quivering body and reveal your skin to him, but it would be left as evidence of your exploits. And since your father still thought his daughter was pure, it would be a foolish move. Instead, he pushed it higher, letting it settle above the swell of your naked breasts as he bit back a sigh. Teeth gnawing at his lower lip as he broke the kiss to indulge in the sight of you, thumbing the underside of your soft mounds as he watched your nipples stiffen to round peaks in the cool evening air. 

How had he been so lucky to find you? To convince someone as perfect as you to lie with him? He had no clue, but he was certain it was evidence of the existence of ame. Not that he would ever make it there, and if this was the closest he’d ever get he would die content. 

“Sanemi,” You cooed, breaking him away from his thoughts as you stroked your fingers along his neck. Following the curve of his collarbones as Sanemi dipped his head lower, lips circling one of your taut nipples as he sucked hard. Glaring up at you with purple eyes when you moaned loud, immediately biting down hard on your lip you were certain you’d drawn blood. 

“If you can’t be quiet when I touch you here—” He reached a palm up to grope your other breast for emphasis, moulding the skin between his fingers as he massaged gently, “Then how will I be able to feast on your cunt?” 

You were noisy. So much so that Sanemi had to press his palm to your mouth to quieten you, a crude smirk on his lips as he nuzzled the junction between your breasts. Kissing a path down your stomach as he followed every line and curve, removing his hand from your mouth when he was more certain you’d be quiet as he reached down to curl his fingers into your panties. Pulling them down your thighs to bare you to him completely. 

“Beautiful.” He hummed beneath his breath as his thumbs spread you open, cherishing the way your slick broke off into silvery strings against your folds, “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” You felt hot beneath his sweltering gaze, heart pounding against your ribcage as he settled on his stomach. Pressing the softest kiss to the top of your mound before curling his forearms beneath your parted thighs, shamelessly inhaling the scent of you as he pressed another kiss against you, this time to your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck,” The motion had your hips bucking wildly, his palm splayed flat against your pelvis as he tightened his grip around your thighs. 

“Still so sensitive,” He murmured, granting you another lingering kiss as he tasted you on his lips, “Is this how much she missed me?” 

“Don’t talk like that, Sanemi.” And it wasn’t because he was talking to your cunt and not to you, it was the crude words that seemed to flow from his lips so effortlessly that left your stomach swirling in knots and a delicious ache between your thighs. 

“Oh?” He hummed, dragging his tongue through the mess you’d— he’d made between your thighs, “Are you saying she didn’t miss me? Was there another keeping you satisfied while I was gone?”

You could hear the jealousy behind his words, the cruel lilt to his voice that had him digging his fingertips into your skin just that much harder. Sanemi was no fool, he knew you’d make the perfect wife for many respectable men. And he was certain that none would refuse— it wasn’t peculiar to think that you had offers while he was gone, or at the very least the promise of your father selling you to pay off his debts. 

But you couldn’t tell him the truth right now. That your father had been searching for a suitor for you, finally settling on one that he deemed fit (and it certainly wasn’t because he was the highest bidder). A man from the next village over who would look after you, you were assured. A man that you could happily live out the rest of your days with, and give up the long hours spent in your father's bakery. 

You were certain if Sanemi knew he would see red, even if there was no chance of him asking for your hand instead. A Demon Slayer, a Hashira no less, would make the perfect prize for any young woman. Easily setting you up for life, even if they didn’t make it out alive, nor make it past their twenty-fifth birthday. It was why so many were reluctant to take on wives, content with aiding their needs with the local courtesans whenever they’d rest for the night. 

Your father still thought of you as pure, a virgin. If he found out he’d surely sell you to the local brothel to pay off his debts instead, a life far worse than a loveless marriage you supposed. But it wouldn’t make a difference when none of those paths led you to Sanemi. 

“It’s only ever been you,” You spoke softly and sincerely as you stared down at your lover, an answer that seemed to appease him as he nuzzled your soft cunt. Unabashedly licking a long stripe from the tight rim of your asshole all the way through your slick, causing you to whine beneath him as his tongue delved deeper, pushing inside your fluttering hole. 

“Good.” He spoke against your sex, your fingers winding through his messy hair as you rolled your hips against his face. The flat of his tongue lapped at you as though tasting the sweetest ambrosia, nose nudging your clit as he ate you out with urgency. Moaning into your cunt as he pushed his tongue as deep as it would go, lashing against your inner walls as you writhed against tousled sheets.

You gasped as he added his two right fingers, curling them inside you as he pressed them against the spongy spot inside you that he knew like the back of his hand. His lips wrapped around your puffy clit as he sucked hard, eyes staring up at you from his position as he watched you come apart for him. Your walls trembling in the throws of your climax that surged through you in harsh waves. You’d expected him to stop, to allow you a moment's respite, but he didn’t. Devouring you like a man starved as he continued to feast on your cunt. You were trying desperately to keep quiet, your own hand clamping over your mouth in a feeble attempt to silence yourself as your debauched moans still broke through. 

Not that Sanemi was much quieter, the lewd smack of his lips against your sopping folds filled the room as he slurped at your slick. Collecting it in his mouth before crudely spitting it back down on your clit, letting it dribble towards your greedy hole where his fingers were fucking into you with vigour. Feeling your walls clamp down around his ring and pinky finger as he worked you through your climax, intent on giving you another before he even thought about pulling away. 

He made it difficult to think as blown eyes stared up at the ceiling, your thighs clamping down around his head as you tried to push him off your overstimulated heat. 

“Stop squirmin’,” He snarled against your clit, showcasing his sheer display of strength as he tugged your thighs open for him again, “I know you can take it, and you will.”

Your hole throbbed around his fingers at his crude tone, the pleasure swirling in your pelvis as he worked to draw another orgasm from your pliant body. Watching the way you were trying to blink back tears as he sucked your clit hard, thrashing beneath him as he felt it surge through you in harsh waves. 

“Sanemi,” You choked back a sob as you felt the pleasure consume you, thighs trembling as your cunt gushed and throbbed around his digits. Smirking against your slit in satisfaction as he worked you through it, lapping at your clit as you mewled pathetically. 

“So beautiful.” He hummed, smacking his lips in satisfaction as he finally pulled away to give you a moment to calm your racing heart. Shamelessly suckling at his fingers as he cleaned your release from them, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against the apex of your thighs. 

You gasped as a sudden pain surged through you, feeling Sanemi’s teeth bite down onto the supple skin of your inner thigh as he began to suck a deep bruise into your flesh. Causing your body to convulse as he left his mark on you. He was never foolish enough to leave anything in plain sight, evidence of your debauchery and certain to sign your courtesan sentence. This was his way of leaving his lingering presence on your body, to claim you as his. The subtle ebb of it whenever you walked evidence that you belonged to him— because no matter what, you would always be his. 

He pressed a final, soothing kiss to the wound as he moved up your body, settling your thighs over his own as he busied himself with undoing his belt. Letting the top of his uniform settle around his waist as he bared his top half. Slapping your greedy hands away as you reached between your thighs to grab at his thick, heavy cock. The weight of it had it drooping down towards the floor, forking veins following the length of it as they lead towards a blushing uncut tip leaking with pre. 

“Don’t you dare,” He chastised as you gave him a needy pout, licking your lips at the thought of how long it had really been, “You know I won’t last.”

You boldly ogled him, watching as he wrapped himself in a strong fist to give himself some relief. Pulling the foreskin back as he smoothed the leaking tip between your dripping folds, covering himself in your slick. Gasping as the bulging head nudged your clit, before it caught against your fluttering hole. Your desperate cunt tried to coax him in as you started to roll your hips towards him invitingly. 

“I’m sure you’ve become a greedy succubus since we met,” He goads, grinning down at you whilst pressing the fat tip of his cock against your tight entrance, “So damn needy.”

“It’s your fault,” You bite back, “You’ve turned me into this.”

“Oh, yeah?” He hums pensively, pushing his hips forward as he feels your hole begin to swallow him, “I’ve turned you into a desperate little slut?”

“Only for you.” You cry out when he cants his hips forward at your response, burying his cock inside you with one rough thrust. 

“F-uck,” Sanemi’s eyes roll as he feels your cunt consume him whole. His balls pressed snugly against the curve of your ass as the messy hairs sat at the base tickle your clit. 

Sanemi had always felt big, the sensation always caught in your throat whenever he’d fill you to the brim. Your exploits are few and far between when he lived the life of a Hashira, never knowing when would be the next time— or if this would be your last. But he always granted you a moment to adjust to his size and a chance for him to admire the way your throat bobbed and your eyes rolled as you felt him fill you whole. 

Sanemi settled himself on his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressed skin to skin, so close you could feel each other's heartbeats. His hands held your head as he began to push his hips forward, starting a steady pace as he ground into you. 

“I’ve missed you,” He rasped, resting his forehead against yours as his gaze bore into your own. Your arms wound around his body to cling to his muscular back, nails leaving crescent-shaped moons in their wake as the blunt head of his cock carved you into the shape of him. 

“I missed you too,” You whine, trying to choke back a moan as you pressed your lips to his, “Missed you so much.”

Your thighs clung to his muscular waist, holding him tight as he ground into you. Sending delicious friction directly to your clit as you tried to pull him impossibly closer, wanting to feel every part of him. The curve of his heavy cock was perfectly positioned to drag against the spot inside you that he knew better than the back of his hand, focusing his attention on it with each roll of his hips. 

“Taking me so well,” He groaned, already feeling the telltale signs of your impending climax, “Good girl.”

You were Sanemi’s proof that there was still good in the world, that there were still some things worth saving, worth cherishing. His nose brushed against yours as he brought you into another sensual kiss, swallowing the desperate cries that wracked through your body as you tried desperately to keep quiet. Your nails dragged crimson red lines down the expanse of his back as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of another climax, leaving marks he was proud to wear as your toes began to curl. 

The coil inside you snapped roughly as you were propelled into your climax. Your entire body convulsing as you came undone, harsh waves of pleasure crashed through you as Sanemi swallowed his name from your throat. 

He pulled back to watch you, tilting his head to the side as he fucked you through your release. His mouth was no longer able to conceal the desperate pants that escaped and mixed with the sound of skin against skin as he continued his rough pace. 

You turned your head to the side on your soft pillow, shy at the way he was looking at you as he loomed over you. The feeling had your stomach swirling in knots as he brought his hand to your jaw to pull your attention back to focus on him. 

“You were so concerned about being loud,” He goaded, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around the column of your throat, “But here you are trying to wake the entire village.”

Your cunt clenched at that, hard. Causing Sanemi to smirk in satisfaction as he started to press down on your windpipe, feeling the way your cunt tightened in response as his hulking form curved over you. Using your body for his own pleasure as he felt the intense heat blazing from between your thighs. Tits bouncing from the ferocity of his thrusts, as you proceeded to wonder if he might actually want you both to be caught like this. So he could finally tell your father that he was taking you away from this and making you, his. 

“Oi,” Sanemi’s fingers pulsed against your neck, trying to bring your focus back to him, “Are you still with me? Or have I fucked all sense from you?”

Sanemi’s grin was maniacal as your cunt clenched around him in response, your head lolling back against the pillow as he kept his bruising pace. Unable to do much from this position but lay back and take it as he used your body for his own pleasure. 

You felt delirious, the pleasure all-consuming as Sanemi drove his hips forward. Thrusting into you with the stamina and precision only a Hashira could have, his perception telling him exactly how to move in order to have you writhing beneath him as he focused his attention on that same spongy spot inside you. Focusing his thrusts as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with each forward motion, dragging his length against your g-spot each time he pulled back. 

“Such a greedy little thing,” He provokes, each word annunicated with a rut of his hips. Certain he won’t be able to last much longer, your hips buck up against him and he can feel your slick drooling down his length and coating his balls. 

Your hands are fisting the thin sheet covering your futon now, groaning when you realise that he’s trying to hold back. Waiting for you to climax once more before he affords himself the same relief. And it’s hard to hold back, especially when you look so innocent and malleable beneath him. You really were far too good for the likes of him. 

Sanemi wonders what he would be like if he did cum inside you, coating your pliant walls with his sticky spend. Imagining how pretty and ethereal you’d look all plump and round as you carry his child, giving him an heir to the Shinazugawa name and carrying his family on through generations. Thinking of the docile life he could spend with you, living the rest of your days peacefully and away from all the trials and tribulations that come with being a Hashira. 

But a life like that would never be possible, not when there is still a single demon out there wandering the streets and waiting to destroy every unblemished part of his life. The image of losing you is too much for him to bear, the mere thought of it has an immeasurable pain shooting through him and striking him straight through the heart. Sanemi would do anything to keep you safe, and if it meant being alone for the rest of his days or sacrificing himself for you— he’d do it. 

And what’s worse is Sanemi knew you’d let him cum inside you, your mind already fucked stupid and completely intoxicated with arousal. He bets he could get you to agree to anything when you’re like this, so desperate and compliant beneath him. You’d let him bury his cock inside you to the hilt and shoot rope after rope of his hot spend inside your fertile womb. 

He’s sweating now. Letting go of your neck in favour of gripping onto your soft hips, the perfect child-bearing hips as he has to bite back a moan. Breaking skin as he gnaws at his bottom lip hard, nose scrunched as he feels the tip of his cock presses snugly against your cervix with each forward motion. 

“Sanemi,” You practically sing his name as a warning as he feels the way your walls convulse around his heavy cock, desperately trying to milk him of his release, “I’m cumming, oh god, I’m cumming.”

He doesn’t bother silencing you this time, indulging in the whiny lilt of your voice as he feels you gush around him. Almost forgetting that he’s supposed to be pulling out as he curses beneath his breath, the coil inside his pelvis snaps abruptly as he manages to pull out, just barely— thick, hot ropes of his potent seed spurt against your quivering cunt as they coat your folds. His rough hand wraps around himself to jerk it roughly as more land against your pelvis and stomach, some making it as far as the underside of your breasts as his chest heaves. 

You’re a mess, he thinks as he stares down at the remnants of his spend. His cock still leaking with a final few trickles of his release as he smears it against your inner thigh before sitting back on his haunches to admire the scene. Silvery white coats your clit, drooling all the way down to the curve of your ass as it disappears between your cheeks, settled on top of your mound as it leaves streaky lines along your tummy and then spots around your breasts. But still part of him regrets not finishing inside you, emptying his balls inside your warm, wet cunt to claim you as his.

It’s a bad idea, terribly really— but he can’t help himself, as Sanemi leans down to collect some of his spend on your clit against his thumb, revelling in the way you keen against him from the sensitivity as he dips it lower and pushes it inside your creamy, abused hole. Watching with curious, lilac eyes at how easily and eagerly your body sucks it in. The mess disappears inside your trembling walls as he fucks it deeper, pulling out to smear the rest into your clit as your body shivers and pushes it out with the aftershocks of your climax.

“It’s too much, Sanemi.” You mumble tiredly, trying to cling to his forearms as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

He reaches over to the bowl of water you’d brought in for him, wincing at how tepid it is now as he submerges the cloth, wringing it out between rough fingers as he begins to clean you up. Starting with the drying cum that coats your body as goosebumps begin to prickle your skin from how gentle he is, taking his time to clean the cloth and repeat the process as he nears the junction of your legs. Cleaning his spend from your inner thighs before running the cloth through your sticky folds, pressing a kiss to your knee as you whine about how sensitive you are as he tries to clean you with as much care as he can— As though he’s frightened you might break. He’s gentle as he pulls your nightgown back down your body, smoothing the fabric as he smiles down at you softly.

Sanemi doesn’t bother cleaning himself and refuses your help when you offer it. Perfectly content to leave your drying slick coating his skin as he pulls his pants back up, preparing to tighten his belt before he looks down at the dejected expression on your face.

“Are you not staying for a while, Sanemi?” You mumble softly. Acutely aware that it’s a risk to ask something so bold of him, especially when your father could walk in at any time and catch you with the Wind Hashira.

His gaze softens in a way reserved just for you as he cups your cheek, rough fingers catching against your soft skin as he leans down to connect your lips in a sensual kiss. Wordlessly dropping to the futon beside you as he pulls you into his arms, burying your face in his chest as you listen to the rhythm of his heart beating hard and fast. His fingers stroke absentminded patterns against your back as he buries his nose into the top of your head, greedily surrounding himself with your scent as he cherishes the moment. Trying to commit everything to memory so he can remember this on those dark days when he’s without you.

This should’ve been the moment you told him about the possibility of your father marrying you off, but you couldn’t. He didn’t need to know, and it was better this way. You could tell him in the morning, he was already tired from his travels and you wanted this happiness to last just that little longer.

But you didn’t realise that he’d be gone by morning, the only sign he was ever here was the dirty water, and drops of blood that soaked into the hardwood, and stuck to the fabric of your nightdress. Each time he left you like this, it had you wondering whether that would be the last time you’d see him.

Sanemi knew you would always be his beacon of light, the only brightness in this dark pathetic world. At night he’d stare up at the same night sky as you, wondering if this is what you were doing right now too— searching out for the North Star that would help guide him back home to you.

[moonrisecherub]

come together | spencer reid x reader

🦊 kinktober day 29: uniforms (ft. munch!spencer, spencer's work clothes, cumming in pants)

🥮 other details: nsfw/18+, ~1k words, fem!reader, spoiler free/not set in a particular season!

🍁 cross-posted on ao3

It was late, and Spencer still hadn’t come home. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but on this particular night you were feeling a bit…needy.

You lay on the couch as you waited for him, with some random show playing on the TV. Your mind wandered, however, to thoughts of Spencer at work. You recalled the outfit he was wearing when he left in the morning: off-white dress shirt, patterned tie, and matching brown slacks and waistcoat. Not to mention his gun tucked into its brown leather holster.

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because you woke up tucked into bed.

“Spence?” You called out quietly, as you opened your eyes. As if on cue, he entered your shared bedroom, glass of water in hand.

He approached you, placing the water down on the nightstand. You noted how his sleeves were pushed up, and his hair was slightly dishevelled, as though he’d been running his hands through it.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead, “didn’t have to wait up for me.”

“I wanted to,” you replied with a tired smile. His expression mirrored your own.

“Yeah?” He questioned, “Any reason why?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you avoided his gaze. His hand found your chin, lifting it gently so you had to look at him. He gave you a look that you knew all too well; he knew what you were thinking, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“Need you,” you spoke, after a beat. He hummed, thumb stroking your chin. “C’mere,” you whispered, “please.”

You moved the duvet aside, patting the empty space next to you on the bed. He took his gun out of the holster, placing it in the drawer of the bedside table. You noticed the way he removed it with such practiced ease.

He started to undress, loosening his tie, but you swatted his hand away as he went to take it off. He looked at you curiously, and you took the opportunity to grab the end of his tie, pulling him closer to you. When he was close enough, you captured his lips in a hungry kiss. Your lips moved together, and you tried to pull him into bed with you, before he separated from the kiss.

“Gonna let me take this off?” He asked, motioning to his still fully clothed form. Usually, you didn’t allow outside clothes in bed, but you didn’t care about that at the moment. You shook your head, biting your lip slightly. At that, realization crossed his face, and he climbed into bed next to you. “You like seeing me like this, huh?”

Instead of replying, you went back to kissing him, your hands finding themselves in his hair. As time went on, you grew needier, and your tongue slipped past his lips. Your tongues danced together, but when that wasn’t enough, you drew him closer until he was on top of you.

Your wrapped your legs around his hips, your own grinding up immediately just to feel something. You could feel his growing bulge, and he could feel the heat radiating from your core even through the layers of clothing. You inched your hand down, grabbing his length through his slacks, but he stopped you.

“Let me take care of you,” he spoke, lips still nearly connected to your own. You nodded against him.

Immediately, he started to trail kisses from your cheek to your neck, pausing every once in a while to suck and nibble on the supple skin. At the same time, his hands found the hem of your shirt. He halted his kisses to pull your top up and over your head, revealing your bare chest to him.

He resumed, lips now wrapping themselves around your nipple, and his hand tweaking deftly at the other. You moaned at his touch, hips bucking up once again, trying to chase some semblance of relief.

With that, Spencer let his lip travel down your body, until he reached the waistband of your sleep shorts. He looked up to you, eyes full of need. When you nodded, he removed your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop, and promptly spread your folds with his fingers.

“So wet for me,” he spoke, before his lips latched onto your clit.

There was something about the juxtaposition between him, in his professional attire, and you, in your state of undress, that drove you wild. This was further cemented by your reaction to his lips on you.

“Fuck, Spence!” You cried out, and your hips immediately followed the sensation. He sucked and licked your bud with such precision, as though he had studied you inside and out.

He continued his ministrations, dipping down to lick at your entrance every now and then. He must have noticed the way you clenched around nothing, as he soon pushed a finger inside of you.

Your breaths started to come out in stutters and your hips moved erratically against Spencer’s mouth. When your hands flew to his hair, in an attempt to ground yourself, he knew you were close. You heard—and felt—him moan against you, sending you over the edge.

When you finally came back to earth, your eyes met Spencer’s from where his head was laid upon your thigh. His gaze was full of admiration, a look that had not once faltered in the years that you had been together.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, your hands playing idly with his soft locks. Then it dawned on you.

“Let me help you now,” you said, voice just loud enough for him to hear you.

He chuckled quietly. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

Your brows furrowed, but then he got up slowly, revealing a wet patch in the front of his trousers.

“Oh, Spence,” you giggled, as he came to lay down next to you.

“Hey, don’t laugh!” He responded, “It’s a totally normal reaction, in fact—” You silenced him with a kiss.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[unintentionalseductress]

When The Snow Melts

Warnings: MDNI, soft sex, virginity loss, angst, and some spoilers for those who aren't familiar with Zayne's lore. A/n: Curiosity got the best of me. I wasn't playing LaDS when the Master of Fate card came out so I went to YouTube and immediately regretted it. Like can this man not catch a break? He sacrifices himself again? I couldn't leave it, so this me, correcting the wrong. A fix-it fic if you will. Because I need Zayne to win, at least once. Also, since Zayne appears according to how MC perceives him, I do believe he will have aged exactly as she has.

The night is bright, and the small cobbled lane you walk on is lit with lamps. The streets are bustling with life. The feeling of excitement, togetherness, and aromatic food graces the air as you wander closer to the town square. Another festival, similar, yet not similar, to the countless ones you’ve seen with your keen eyes. 

You’d wanted to be in company, maybe see the world when you were young, and the curse that was also a blessing was granted. Your body, now wispy and weathered from the years spent wandering cannot move as quickly as you used to, the ever-reminding aches in your joints, the beginning of arthritis weighing down in your bones. Yet you still had a zest for life. Because what else could you do but seek, and take in everything that life had to offer? How could you not? Because it was the grace of the god that allowed it and the terrible price that was paid for you to experience it.

It had been decades since you had last seen the god. You had traversed as far as you could, carrying your umbrella with the everlasting snow coating it like wool on a freshly birthed lamb. The things you had witnessed! Ships with sails as tall as oak trees, strangely flavored meats and delectable sweets, festivals where people had danced, music from instruments brought in from faraway strange lands. You had eaten, traveled, danced, and sung, picking up small jobs to afford simple pleasures. You were a quick learner. Once you were a seamstress helping a small garment shop, another time a jewel polisher. You had even worked as an errand maid for an elderly couple who were profuse with their thanks and offered you a roof over your head for a short while. But staying in one place wasn’t an option. You had to keep looking after all. How else would you find him again?

As your feet carried you into the square, a burst of light and color filled your vision. It’s so lively, as the people flock to the different food carts, admiring the small handicraft booths, and singing folk songs well known to all those who grew up in this region. Children joyfully chased each other, dressed warmly in bright clothes. A hint of winter was already in the air. Based on what you had observed, this festival was celebrating the end of the harvest season, probably one of the last for this year until the harsh snowfall of winter faded. The breeze, not quite chilly enough to make you shiver, felt comforting on your face. 

You supposed you could work as a midwife again. Midwifery was good work, reliable since winter did not stop the delivery of children into the world. It could also guarantee a place to stay if you played your cards right, though you hated staying in one place. The nomadic lifestyle you had adopted suited you. And the winters made you nostalgic. 

It made you long for those days before you had picked up this umbrella and set off to see the world. Of amber eyes flecked with green, like the jars of whiskey at the inns when the early morning sunlight brushes against them, bringing forth colors hidden in the dark glass. Or of soft hands, covered in scars, and whispers in your ear of sleep, of priestesses calling gods down to earth to make love to them. Sometimes the memories consume you to the point of anger.  How dare he leave you? With no explanation as to what his blessing was. 

You vaguely recall those days, back when your fingers weren’t gnarled and wrinkled, your face unblemished by the years in the sun. All spells have limitations, he had said. But he also said he had taken care to make the spell extra strong since you were particularly clumsy. The snow had to melt sometime…didn’t it?

A drum begins to pound in the distance, and the crowd gathers around the stage that had been set up at the far end of the square. You halt at one of the carts to buy some fried chicken skewers. The vendor looks curiously at your umbrella, something you have grown accustomed to over the years. After all, snow that doesn’t melt was bound to bring questions. You had woven a different story for each city you had passed through, sometimes recycling them when you didn’t have the creativity to spin a new one. Initially hesitant to reveal how the umbrella with the everlasting snow had come into your possession, you had tried to pass it off as a novelty accessory, crafting tales of snowy mountains and how it was all the rage in those areas.

As the years passed by, your tongue had loosened. Or perhaps the indignation of him disappearing had made you reckless. Although you still hadn’t said the full story, you’d managed to finally say it was a blessing from a god, shocking the non-believers by letting them touch the snow, their gasps of awe as the cold, wet, powder clung to their fingers falling satisfyingly on your ears. Tonight, however, you were in no mood to entertain strangers. You smile politely as you hand over your coins to the vendor, take the food, and walk away towards the stage. 

The sounds of a flute and an erhu accompany the drum. Elaborately dressed dancers are swirling in coordinated grace on the stage, enacting a scene from an old tale; the common man sending off the goddess of harvest, thanking her for her blessings that year, and praying to the god of winter, that he be merciful to them and allow them to live to see another spring.

You were skeptical if these rituals really worked. The first autumn after you had been gifted the umbrella when the air started to show signs of change, you had danced, danced amongst the trees that were close to shedding their vividly colored leaves of red, mustard, and yellow. You had prayed your heart out, prayed so hard, danced so long that the soles of your shoes had almost worn out. You had danced till you had collapsed with exhaustion, falling asleep on the leafy floor. You had been so sure that it would work, that he would show himself, and when you awoke, it was with a heartrending pang that you realized you were alone. It hadn’t worked. Wherever he was, the god of the snow wasn’t visible to your eyes. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to cry in all those months. Had he really believed this was the better choice? That to leave you behind without telling you what was going to happen to him would make you happier? That was the worst part; not knowing if he was alive, existing somewhere you couldn’t journey to, or if he had given all his power into making the snow that had fueled your existence, and lost himself with it. 

The music becomes faster and the dancers move until the stage is a blur of color. The audience claps as their movements become sharp, with an artistic precision that only years of practice could hone. The last note quavers from the flute and rises into the night air. Cheers and whistles erupt all around you. It was a beautiful performance no doubt, but despite finding it captivating, it also left you feeling hollow. Finishing the last of your fried chicken, you begin to wander amongst the townspeople, enquiring about work that could be had for the winter.

By the time the square had cleared up, and the last of the festival-goers had returned home, you had secured a job; a bakery was in desperate need of an extra set of hands. The pay wasn’t much but the woman had offered food and board and you had accepted graciously. As you sit on the stone steps of your latest lodgings, you gaze at the moon. 

You want to not blame him, to not feel this heavy weight that you’ve carried inside your chest. You know you should be grateful for his sacrifice which enabled you to see so much of the world, and at the least, you weren’t alone. The incident with the people in your village was a distant memory, replaced with so many more pleasant rememberings. Plucking apples from an orchard with trees growing as far as the eyes could see. The feeling of a newborn baby, screaming with the rage of life and the mother wiping tears of joy while offering you her thanks. The herbalist with his toothless smile as he showed you which plants were medicinal and which were poison as you plucked various flowers and leaves and dug the earth for rhizomes of turmeric and ginger. 

You were a well-traveled woman, knowledgeable in all aspects, a rare luxury during this time, you knew. Yet for each memory that stayed clearly in your mind, there was a sense of loss. Everything tied back to him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forget him, even in your old age, and even with the passage of time. 

The spicy bun the baker had offered you was good. You savored its flavor on your tongue, naming the constellations visible in the sky as you did so, the short astronomy lesson from a young scholar in some past time proving useful. It must be close to midnight based on how still the night is, the whispering rustle of dead leaves as they skitter across the ground audible in the background. With a sigh, you carefully get to your feet, your joints creaking as you rise. As you reach for your umbrella, you pause, fingertips hovering over the handle.

Surely you were imagining it? It must be a trick of the moonlight. The last of the lamps were dying, the faint light casting shadows across the walls of the dwellings. Yet your aged eyes couldn’t shake off the feeling. You stare intently at the umbrella, more so, at the snow perched on its upper slope. A fine sheen of condensation coated the umbrella, surrounding the powdery snow. Had you somehow gotten the umbrella wet? You kneel, observing with fascination as some of the condensation gathers, becoming fat droplets of precipitation, and rolling off the sides.

You’re awestruck. In all your years, the snow had never melted. It had never lessened nor increased but always stayed the same. But now you can see how the powder was turning watery, steadily dripping down into the cold ground. You trace a fingertip on the trails of moisture along the sides of the umbrella, and that’s when you hear it; the unmistakable twang of a guqin. 

You had never encountered a guqin again, not since the night he had played one while you danced for him. The unmistakable notes now begin to form a melody. You look out into the empty street and see nothing. But the song was filling your body like the warmth of a fireplace. Your limbs involuntarily stretch out as your eyes close, remembering the movements you had learned so long ago and sworn to never repeat after the failed attempt to call down the god. Your legs feel unsteady, your hands clumsy, a far cry from the controlled accuracy of the stage dancers. Your joints begin to sear as you move, unable to stop the actions. Oh how sweetly the instrument sang to you!

There’s a sharp pain in your heart, not from the ache of moving your tired extremities, but from the grief bottled up, adding on year after year. There’s resentment, but underneath it all, there’s a strong yearning you’re unable to put into words. How do you describe it? The loss of the only person who seemed to understand you, who helped you control your power?

You knew he did something when he placed his spell because, since that day, you hadn’t been able to harness your powers ever again. He had ensured you could live your life as a normal human being. Before knowing him you would have done anything to not have the power. But the cost that came with it was too much to bear. You weren’t alone, yet you were alone. So of all the days, why was the guqin playing now?

Tears roll down your cheeks as you dance, letting loose your sorrow to the crisp night breeze. You feel like each nerve in your body is frayed, all consumed with the bits of memories you had of him. It takes you a moment to realize you’re not dancing anymore. The guqin has stopped playing. You’re standing in a pose, your head lowered, facing the steps you had been sitting on, and the umbrella leaning against them. Shock passes through you. 

The umbrella was completely devoid of snow. The only evidence it was there was the puddle of water that had gathered beneath it, muddying the grass. 

“Why are you so surprised?”

Your heart skips a beat, then begins to hammer in your chest like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. The deep baritone voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm calls out to you gently. You can’t seem to be able to move. 

“It can’t be.” You murmur, gripping your elbows, trying to calm yourself. “It can’t be. I’m dreaming.”

“What are dreams if not another reality?”

It takes all the effort in your body to not collapse to the ground as a sobbing mess. You turn slowly, as though giving the voice a chance to admit it was a figment of your imagination but it doesn’t happen. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him, at last.

His dark hair has tinges of gray in it, and crow’s feet are visible near the corners of his eyes, but the gentle upwards curve of his lips, the broad shoulders, and his pointed chin are all recognizably familiar. 

“Zayne?” You let his name fall from your lips, sounding like a strange word, lost to your vocabulary from the years of disuse. 

He nods, then stretches out a hand to you. At first, you’re at a loss about what you should do, then, with as much speed as your wizened knees allow, you run to him. He’s solid and grounding, his arms wrapping around you tightly. A brief lick of rage crosses through you, but when you open your mouth to let loose your diatribe, all that comes out is a sob. Your tears flow freely, staining his robes, and you feel his gloved hands gently combing through your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Why not tell me?” Your words are choked, your body shivering as you cry. 

Zayne leads you to the steps and helps you sit before occupying the space next to you. He leans you against him, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as he takes one of your hands between both of his. He sighs deeply and his voice, though calm, is filled with regret as he speaks. 

“How could I tell you? What would I have said? How do you tell someone special to you that their life was in danger?”

You blink back tears. “Danger?”

“There was a powerful entity after you. I did what I needed to do to protect you.”

“Why was it after me?”

Zayne pauses, as though considering how to word his response. “It was convinced you would bring about a cataclysm, and the only way to prevent it was to take your life.”

“But… I don’t understand. How did your spell prevent this? Now that it’s worn off, won’t it come after me again?”

“No.” Zayne wraps his arms around you, his body bringing warmth into yours. “Even cataclysms go away if given enough time. But the harder part was figuring out how to suppress your abilities until that time passed.” He sighs deeply, gathering you close. “The spell on the umbrella was the only solution I could think of, without restricting your freedom. Regrettably, sealing your power meant taking away your ability to perceive me. I never intended to make it permanent.”

“Why not tell me?” You repeat the question. Zayne raises an eyebrow.

“If I had told you the spell would wear off, would you have left the mountain?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb as he takes in your face, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I know you. You would have spent all these years in isolation, waiting for me. I didn’t want you to miss the opportunity to live. A normal life seemed like the best option I could give you until enough time had passed.”

You’re silent as you let his words sink into you. After a gap, you whisper, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His thumb caresses each of your fingertips in turn. “But know that I watched over you every day. I saw the world through your eyes and felt your sense of wonderment in my heart. The day you danced so hard for me that you almost fainted from exhaustion-” Zayne draws in a breath and his voice quivers as he continues. “I was in tears. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. I was there, separated by a veil, but I felt your pain.”

“That was the year the frost came early.” You recall the memory. 

“Indeed. I couldn’t control my grief. I didn’t know how else to let you know I was there, except to cover the world with snow.”

You glance over at the umbrella. “Will you disappear again?”

“Not unless you want me to.” One of his large hands rests on your knee. “I understand I’ve angered you by acting without telling you everything. Is it enough that you don’t want me around?”

You shake your head no. Your momentary anger with him had faded, like the night giving way to the sunrise. “There’s nothing that could keep me from wanting you. I made many acquaintances throughout my life, but the one person’s companionship I yearned for was yours.”

“My beloved snowflake.” Zayne embraces you tenderly. “It was fate that led you to me on the mountain that day. And It was fate that finally broke the spell. We’re all bound by it, even me.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Otherwise, do you think I would have kept you sealed for so long? Even gods must play by fate’s rules.”

Silence falls between you both,  the breeze ruffling your clothes. You become acutely aware that he’s gazing at you, and when you turn to look at him, there’s such tenderness in his eyes that it makes you blush, even at this age. 

“You’re beautiful,” he utters, tucking strands of stray hair behind your ears. The amber in his eyes glows as you stare back, captivated by how handsome he is. Your memory didn’t do him justice. You cup his cheek. 

“Is this our happily ever after?”

“It can be if we choose it to be.”

“I do. Wholeheartedly.”

Sparks fly between you and almost as if the both of you are following a rhythm, your lips find each other in the darkness. It’s odd because, in the passing years, you hadn’t imagined what his lips would feel like against yours. You had fantasized about lying next to him, listening to his heartbeat, about taking long, leisurely strolls while holding hands, and about the possibility of letting him rest on your lap while you played with his thick locks of hair.

Now you’re glad you hadn’t tried to imagine it because the reality was sweeter than any dream you could have conjured, the warmth and softness of his mouth, the taste of his tongue as it slips past your lips, the possessiveness in his grip as he molds your body against his, as though silently claiming you. There wasn’t an inch of you that didn’t ache for him. When he pulls away, there’s desire flickering in the depths of his eyes.

Wordlessly, you take his hands and get to your feet, quietly pulling him inside your new quarters. You’re careful to not wake the baker; it was quite improper to invite a man into your room, but you didn’t care. You lock the door and allow Zayne to sweep you away.

Clothes slide to the floor, a whisper lost to the dark. There’s no shame as you reach for each other, hands relishing the feeling of skin, enjoying the contact between your bodies as he gently pulls you onto the bed. His lips leave trailing kisses on your skin, no longer supple like the young woman you once were, but worthy of being worshipped irrespective. You wonder if this moment would have felt different if you had consummated this relationship when you were younger but realized you had little choice in it. If the Master of Fate couldn’t control when things happened, then what good was it to think about what could have been?

Instead, you focus on him, on his skin flushed with vitality as you nibble his ear, shyly running your tongue down his neck. He suckles at your nipple, and pleasure, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced radiates into every part of your being. You feel his erection graze your belly as he patiently kisses you, moaning into his mouth as his fingers stroke your sex, finding the little knot of nerves that makes you close your eyes in ecstasy.

It’s all slow and unhurried, and when you finally gasp out your climax, he eases his body into yours. There’s pain, but only for the briefest moment, then as your body stretches around him, you feel a powerful sense of intimacy as he thrusts, his movements passionate and loving. He gathers you tightly against him whispering the same thing over and over as he empties himself. 

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you.”

A weak ray of sunlight peeks through the window when you wake up, and you panic for a moment when you see the bed is empty. 

“I’m here my love.” Zayne’s voice immediately reassures you and you see him stoking the fireplace. The small flames crackle merrily as he makes his way back to bed, pulling you against him and stroking your skin. It had snowed overnight, and the landscape was now unrecognizable, covered in a fresh coat of it. 

“It appears grief isn’t the only thing that can cause the god of winter to make it snow,” you tease and Zayne good-naturedly smirks at you. 

“Indeed. All thanks to you.” 

You giggle, a soft sound that fills him with joy. 

“I suppose we’re stuck in this village until winter ends. Makes no sense to wander for now.”

“Agreed. I suppose I can set up shop as a fortune-teller, or maybe as a herbalist.”

“We’ll decide what to do when spring comes.” You settle against his chest, finding comfort in the scent of his skin. 

“The snow has to melt sometime. But we’ll survive. Together.”

“Together.” You agree, and lay your lips over his. 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

[dipperpepper77]

LADS as romance movies

Dipper's Delusions

Tags: Angst, death, romance, sappy shit. Spoilers for the movies

Xavier: The Time Traveler's Wife. I can see you falling in love with him. Both marrying and having a whole life. But, he keeps vanishing. Continuously in a lapse of going through time. Always having one end goal... come back to you. He travels to times where you were just a child, to the day of his funeral, your funeral, relived your wedding, saw your first heartbreak from a far. Everything. Every time he crashes his head on your lap. You always had your familiar gentle touch. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to tell you what awaits in your future together. He just wants to love you over and over again.

Rafayel: The Notebook. HEAR ME OUT. He is definitely one of the LADS men who will make themselves look stupid to impress you (literally the hospital visit). He would definitely jump up and dangle on a Ferris wheel to get you to say yes to a date. That being said... he IS sassy BUT he is also reliable and loving. He would write to you everyday. He WOULD build you a home with his two hands. Do not be fooled by the mask he wears. He would go to the ends of the earth for you. That's how he finds himself at the same retirement home as you (his choice. no one can tell him to leave). He reads your love story to you everyday until you remember him.

Zayne: Pride and Prejudice. (I was going to say Breakfast at Tiffany's but I see so much edits of him as Darcy) This man does scream Mr. Darcy though. He stays in shadows. Keeps himself busy. A man of honor and integrity. But, in times of him confessing his love... it comes out as a burst of emotion. He's always concealing (Elsa core) how he feels that when it's in the light... it's in the light. His usual stoicism is replaced by a tender husband once you marry. You WOULD have random nicknames he gets to call you for different occasions. He would only call you by the nickname he calls you when he's completely, perfectly, and incandescently happy. Because you are his joy.

(Before I start with Sylus... I'm sorry. You may shoot me if you'd like)

Sylus: Me Before You. Hear me out. In his lore he needed to die by your hands. What if in this life time... he was just meant to die? He's left bedridden after an accident. He was now a recluse (for obvious reasons). He didn't have a plan to live long. Not in his state. So when he met this witty person who wears funky outfits? He didn't expect to love you. To find these outfits endearing, to keep thinking 'one more day' every single morning in order to see you, to find himself having many good days. He's so in love with you. You were light. You were the air he wanted to keep breathing. Like a sunshine after the storm. His will to go 'one more day'. Of course, he's rich. So he spends that remainder on you. Buying things he heard you liked. His heart leapt every single time you squealed at his gifts. But... in the end. He still didn't want to live. He just wanted you to be able to live happily after him. Because... he was so fortunate to meet the love of his life.

Caleb: Big Fish (my fav movie). But, Edward Bloom is so Caleb coded. Imagine this... your child is SO frustrated with the "tale-tales" of his life. Like yeah dad.. you TOTALLY flew into a storm and saw god. But, he retells the way he met you. The love of his life... He see's you at the circus... he's awestruck. Who are you? Where are you from? He can NOT let it go. He's a dog with a bone. You ARE his wife, this was love at first sight. He settles a deal with the circus owner. Working hard labor and nearly dying. He doesn't even get paid... just paid in information about you. He goes to your college... you're so sweet... but, engaged. He does GRAND gestures of love. Your name in a heart written on the sky by a plane, a field of your favorite flowers, the works. So you marry him instead. He goes to war... but escapes. No way that man will EVER be ripped away from you once he's had you.

Dip Talk: HI I MISSED YOU ALL. I'M BACK

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Cool ass party

Miguel Diaz X Female! Reader

!SPOILER WARING FOR COBRA KAI SEASON 6!

Summary: When Miguel goes to the frat party, he's far from thinking he's going to get the girl.

Warning: Use of Y/n/ violence/ swearing/ mention of blood/ alcohol/ kinda heavy makeout/ Google translte spanish/ mention of body parts?/

Word count: 1.2k

To be honest, I didn’t know why I followed Miguel, Demetri and Hawk at the college tour. I didn’t even know which college I wanted to go to, but still, I followed the guys while a random dude walked in front of us. ‘’You really think we got a chance at M.I.T?’’ Demetri asked us. I looked at Miguel with an ‘His he for real?’ look in my eyes. ‘’Dude, you guys are the Binary Brothers, if M.I.T don’t accept you, they’re stupid as fuck’’ I exclaim with a laugh in my throat. Hawk smiled as we looked around. ‘’Y/n, are you considering coming with me here?’’ Miguel shyly asked. I take a deep breath as I look at the ground.

Before I can answer, the tour guide gets tackled on the ground by two familiar faces. ‘’Kyler? Brucks? What the hell?’’ Demetri mumbles as we connect the dots. ‘’Rhea? Lip, Lip’s friend? Weird chick?! What are you guys doing here?’’ Kyler exclaimed.

After catching up with our ‘old friends’ and eating, Kyler decided to bring us to our first frat party. I usually avoid frat house’s parties, but since I was with guys that I trusted, I decided to go. I wasn’t dressed to go to a party, but who cared? As we entered the room, I stick with Miguel, plus he was my crush, so it was another reason to stay with him. Frat boys everywhere, sorority girls glued to them, alcohol, smoke and the smell of sex filled my nostrils and my eyes. ‘’That’s something’’ Hawk exclaimed, making us laugh. ‘’Let’s just, lay low, stick together and keep an eye on your drinks. We’ll be fine’’ I try to convince them.

There was a blur between the time we arrived and now, why Miguel was sticking up to Kyler was confusing. But what was more confusing was the way Miguel’s body and mine moved together. The way his hands traveled my body in a sky but sensual way. When I turned to face him, our mouths were almost on the other. I could feel his breath on my skin. The look in his eyes was almost enough to get me to throw my self control out the window. I kept looking at his eyes and his lips, I needed to kiss him. As I leaned forward, something stopped us. ‘’Where’s my vacuum?!’’ The asshole in ‘charge’ of the frat yelled, referring to Kyler. Miguel and I turned our head to our ex-bully. ‘’Men, I ain’t gonna clean that’’ Kyler tried to stand up for himself. My dance partner and I made our way closer to Kyler, in case something happened. We were joined by Hawk and Demetri, who were as clueless as we were. After Kyler tried to tell the guy off, again, things got heated, and Miguel stepped in. ‘’Enough!’’ he yelled, getting everyone’s attention. Someone stopped the music, making it more dramatic. Kyler got up from the floor, cleaned his mouth from the dirty food he picked up. ‘’Why don’t you tell him the truth?’’ Miguel confronted the frat ‘king’. ‘’The truth about what, man?’’ Kyler asked. ‘’Well, we had a good run, but you’re never getting into this frat’’ the douchebag said.

Kyler took a second to think before he grabbed a girl’s drink before pouring it on the guy’s head. I had to refrain a laugh as Hawk ate popcorn because of how good the entertainement was. The douchebag, who’s ego got hurt, tried to punch Kyler, but he was quicker and blocked it. ‘’Bitch, don’t you know, I know karate!?’’ he exclaimed before pushing the guy on a metal pole.

And there it was, another karate brawl. But this time, it was funnier than the others I’ve been apart of. Demetri, Hawk, Miguel, Kyler and I were all working together, it was amazing. But, at one point, guys started to land punches on me. But with the adrenaline, I didn’t feel any of it. ‘’Let’s go before campus security comes!’’ Kyler exclaims. As we all ran outside, I burst out laughing. ‘’That was a cool ass party" I yell, laughing. Miguel, for some reason, puts his arm around my shoulder as we ran across campus.

‘’Oh, you’re bleeding’’ Miguel said as we walked home, I lived two streets away from him. ‘’Your hair was in the way, that’s why we didn’t notice, and your lip too.’’ He says as he innocently touches my lower lip. Realizing what he’s doing, he quickly moves his hand away. ‘’I’m sorry, I, uh.’’ He stuttered. I smile as we arrived in front of his apartment block. ‘’You’re bleeding too, do you need help cleaning it up?’’ I suggest. Miguel nods and leads the way to his apartment. No one was home.

‘’It was a hell of a Superman punch.’’ Miguel complimented as I put butterfly closures on his wound. I blush and look down. ‘’All done’’ ‘’Good, it’s your turn now’’ Miguel orders. I sit on the bathroom counter as Miguel picks what he needs from the first aid kit. I look at him and smile. ‘’What’s with the smile?’’ he asks, smiling too. He delicately starts to clean the blood of my forehead, next the one on my lip. ‘’I enjoyed myself today. It was nice dancing with you’’ I whispered. Miguel blush and gets back to his task. ‘’I enjoyed dancing with you too.’’ He says back, with a flirty tone. While he works on my forehead, I say nothing, the tension in the small bathroom speaks for itself. The way we maintain eye contact speaks for itself. His brown eyes are deeply into mine and my self control is about to expire.

‘’This might hurt’’ he warns before disinfecting my lip. ‘’Y’a know, if I was a random girl, I’d ask how you know so much about fixing lips. But each time you get into a fight, I’m there’’ I chuckle. Miguel smiles. ‘’Yeah, and each time I think you look good kicking everyone’s ass’’ he flirts back. I almost fold, but I love to flirt with people. ‘’You think I look good, Diaz?’’ I reply. Seeing how red he turned when I called him by his last name, it's something I’m going to do again. ‘’Of course, I don’t think there’s anything hotter than you kicking someone’s ass.’’ he moves a little closer to me. His thumb caresses my lower lip as he uses the triangle method on me, which works. ‘’You wanna kiss me, Diaz?’’ He swallows pretty hard, but still keeps his composure. ‘’Please, you have such pretty lips. I really want to kiss you’’ he whispers, millimetres away from my lips. ‘’Then do it, Diaz’’ I mumbled before I lean in, our lips finally touching.

The kiss got heated pretty fast, Miguel’s hands making his was on my body fast. The only time we pull away from each other is to take our breath. The kiss leaves us breathless, our chest rising up and down as his black curls are getting messier and messier. ‘’I wanted to do that for so long’’ Miguel said with his dry throat. Our lips collapse together again, I wrap my legs around his waist as my hands tugs his hair. One of his hands make his way on my thigh, getting dangerously close to my wet core.

‘’Hola, ¿hay alguien en casa?’’ Miguel’s grandma announces as she enters the house. ‘’Shit, my grandma. I thought she was at the grocery store’’ Miguel babbles as he tries to fix himself. I giggle and fix my hair. ‘’Don’t worry, I’ll sneak off by that window.’’ I smile, looking at the small window. He tries to come up with an apology, but I cut him. I slide off the counter and place a quick kiss to his lips. ‘’You can apologize for your grandma later, I’ll leave my window unlock tonight, Diaz’’

[brucewaynehater101]

Tim time travel where he fixes everything for his family and he sees them all as so happy without them

But Tim still has the mental skills and he's dedicated enough to retrain himself physically and he can't help himself but become a vigilante, one not associated with the Bats, maybe he works mostly in Bludhaven, Tim is just a Rumor

Bart comes back, a Bart who knows the stories of Rumor, a vigilante never identified

Kon reborn, a Kon who gets the memories of other timelines thanks to superboy prime's punch

Cassie is lent to the norse pantheon by zeus as a favor and receives the wisdom of another version of herself

they're not exactly the friends he left behind, but he's not the Tim they would have known

Tim loses the Bats, but he still has his family

and the justice league just wondering where this strange cryptid shadow kid came from and looking at Batman who is equally clueless but he's not telling them that

Ooh ~

Tim traveling back in time, refusing to reintegrate with the Bats, and C4 all having memories of Tim's original timeline??? A gorgeous premise. I particularly enjoy the vigilante name "Rumor."

So, Tim would have his team and be based in Bludhaven (?) for this AU. What would his team be called? I doubt they would take up their own names, especially if they were to distance themselves from their mentors (I am curious about how these memories would change the other C4 members' relationships with their respective groups).

Also, Rumor and Spoiler sounds like a fucking adorable team-up. Those names work really well together. Actually, can Steph retain the memories too? She could stay in Gotham and be Tim's liaison for the Bats (though the two of them often patrol together and cause chaos). Since Steph wasn't as integrated with the family, her only issue might be with Babs and Cass (and needing to rebuild her relationships with them, despite the pain it'd cause). Otherwise, let Steph have her independent vigilante career, but this time actively not seeking Bruce's guidance. Let her stand entirely on her own feet and be reassured in her own power. Let her be a part of YJ.

[ivys-garden]

Wild Life Spoilers: Session 2 Alliance Report:

Teams:

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Grian, Skizz) - formerly the Sub One Club, immediately forget their idea of using crawl mode and lament that they can't be sub one anymore. Mumbo then decides they are “The Floaters” due to them becoming obsessed with the levitation ability. Luckily this doesn't stick because I could not handle an alliance that changes name every session. Mumbo and Skizz built their “base” as a series of bridges, leading to Mumbo calling them “The Spanners” since “they span things”.

Speaking of levitation, they died from that. And starvation. This was not Mumbo or Skizzes session, with Mumbo losing two life's and Skizz losing 3, halfing his amount of lives in one session. If Skizz loses one next week he will be yellow. Seems Grian's curse of outlining his alliance has started early.

The Bam-Boozelers - (Scar, Lizzie, Jimmy)

I normally have a lot of faith in all life series teams. I think anyone can make it to the end. I think this so long as it is not abundantly clear that they're doomed. I never say someone is Doomed from the star-

This team is doomed from the start. Immediately they decide that the Wild Card is that he can't heal from hunger, now this is a good first thought and is shared by other teams, though those other teams immediately realised that if that were the Wild Card everyone would die of hunger and started looking for other options.

These 3? They stuck with that idea and started making boats to travel. When they realised that their hunger reduced passively, they panicked until Grian saved them by telling everyone in chat that they could eat anything. Now, armed with this knowledge they just have to find a good and easy to use food source.

They chose stone shovels. An item that cannot be stacked and required way more effort and resources to make than was worth it. And they stuck by this even as others told them about better foods. They only stopped using shovels because of the randomisation.

How is Jimmy the most confident member on his team?

In other news, they're theme park is going well and Lizzie's Parrot is cute. Jimmy also apparently has “Big Mascot Energy”.

Renwood - (Martyn, Ren)

These dogs are just vibing. They each lose a life each, no big deal. A far cry from previous seasons, Ren is just chilling, Not going after anyone unless they go after them first and trying to get Martyn to do the same. And he actually does, not attacking anyone this session at all. He even gives up going after Jimmy for stealing their cows (an action which was by every account deserved.)

The Tuff Guys (Tango, Etho, Bdubs) (not technically together (?))

Ah yes, Team B.E.S.T without Skizz …. Considering Skizz was the only person keeping Team B.E.S.T from imploding, this can only go well!

Yeah this team is not staying together. Technically they're already breaking up, with Bdubs saying they should only look out for themselves and insisting they live in different houses. Bdubs even cements this mentality by fully encouraging Scar to help kill Tango for no reason.

As for the “Tuff” part, Etho has decided that they need to be tougher and take what they want from people. You know, not to be nice or polite.

Luckily we can see how this works in practice, as Gem encourages him to go be tough to the Final Girls, let's see how Etho is an not being nice:

● he greets Scott and Cleo

● makes small talk

● politely asks for copper

● tries to stop Pearl stealing from them since he doesn't know she's on they're team

● takes more of the stuff he was told he could have

● gives them obsidian in return anyway

● and still feels bad about it.

Yeah not only was this the least tough Etho had ever been, the Girls almost certainly didn't notice and probably won't even care when they do. Great job Etho.

The Fast And The Furious (Gem, Joel)

This session, Gem announced her plan to make friends so people don't judge them based on 5 seasons worth of going insane every time they go red. This lasts for 3 minutes before other people arrive, Scar misunderstands instructions, Etho lets the cops out and the Final Girls partake in their favourite pastime of miscommunication and insisting their own teammates are doing something they aren't.

Other attempts to make friends do go better, with Gem arguably being on good terms with everyone except two people. So that's good.

Gem also builds a cute little Bard that I give a session before it's burnt down or has a Creeper hole in it. Joel spends all session building a car. Everyone on the server thinks it's hideous, mainly because it is hideous.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Pearl, Cleo, Impulse, Bigb)

Somehow the most stable team here, even if it is mostly out of spite. Yeah this team will stay together, the core four have never betrayed anyone unless an outside faction is involved. They're safe. Even if they continue the tradition of forgetting all the bad stuff they did and only reimbursing bad stuff their teammates did (what do you mean Pearl doesn't trust people based on what happened in previous seasons? That was you, Cleo!)

Oh Bigb also joined this session. Though I imagine this will be a Heart Foundation situation where he bases alone despite being on the team.

Scott and Cleo spend a lot of time this session fixing the mistakes Pearl and Impulse make by acting how they always do. A house and wall are built and Pearl and Impulse prepare revenge plans on Grian and Martyn. Pearl encourages Impulse not to tell the others, seemingly forgetting that Cleo and Bigb are addicted to revenge and would have no problem with this.

Alliances and Friendships:

Lizzie and Gem

these two agree to team up if their teammates die. Since their teammates are idiots.

Remember, Lizzie is the one who made the stone shovel plan.

Spanners Vs Bammers

The Bam-Boozelers still hate the Spanners, dropping their reputation all the way to zero. Mumbo and Skizz either don't realise this or don't care. Grian was gone almost all session mining so can't really say what his thoughts on the situation are.

The Family - (Joel, Etho, Gem)

Etho is indoctrinated into yet another family, though he seems more willing to be present for this one. When Tuff Guys breaks up like 5 minutes into session 3, we all know where he's going.

Also Scar might also be part of the family though every else seems to just ignore this.

Spanners Vs Tango

The Spanners are really angry at Tango for accidentally killing Skizz. They seem satisfied with manifesting his death through belief, but it seems they haven't let him off the hook yet. We all know Bdubs won't help him

Joel might also be mad at Tango since he ate the wheels of his ugly car.

Mumbo & Jimmy still hate Renwood

Mumbo still doesn't trust Martyn after the enchanter fiasco and Jimmy attempts to get revenge for the cow theft. Ren and Martyn have chosen to ignore this, Mumbo seems to have forgotten he was angry, and Jimmy is satisfied that he got revenge.

Ren buys his friends

Ren bought Gem and Tangos friendship through iron. Will this hold up? No.

Gem has beef with team oblivious

Gem hates Pearl and Impulse this season. They are at the top of her inevitable murder list.

● The Final Girls came round for a visit

● Impulse was accused of stealing

● He said he wouldt stela since he knows what it's like to be stolen from

● Gem took this as him amusing her of stealing

● Scott cut him off before he could explain himself by saying he was purposely antagonising them

● Gem cut both of them off by ranting about how much she doesn't trust them

Stellar miscommunication guys, great job as always. Please never change, the series would be way less funny if you did.

Pearl also made it worse by trying to Poison Gem 30 minutes later. Woopsie.

Neither Pearl nor Impulse notice that Gem hates them and the others refuse to tell them.

[genshin-scenarios]

truths hidden in the snow - rubedo × reader

Wordcount: 1900+

Content Warnings: spoilers for the old dragonspine event and brief references to an attempted (but failed) murder! In case you aren't sure who this is, Rubedo is also known as Susbedo, Primordial Albedo, and etc.

Thinking about Rubedo who lures you to Dragonspine one day with a letter impersonating Albedo; something about how 'the primordial subject' is back. You show up, Rubedo tries to kill you... and it almost works, but you manage to knock him out with a pretty harsh blow to the head, and the snowy mountain falls silent.

...He isn't dead, obviously, but you can't just leave him there to wake up and continue his potentially nefarious plans. So you lug him into your teapot abode and lock down your guestroom. When he awakens after a few days, the first thing out of his mouth is:

"Where am I...? And- Who are you?"

The hand prepped on the hilt of your weapon falls, and all the intimidation you've been hyping yourself up to exude suddenly melts away into hesitance.

"You're in my home." You reply carefully. "Do you remember anything about how you got here?"

Rubedo's brow furrows; more expressive than anything you've seen on him, and shakes his head.

The following days are strange, to say the least. After you left Rubedo in the guestroom to 'get him some water,' you teleport to Mondstadt in a rush and burst into Albedo's office for help.

"So from your understanding, Subject Two has lost his memories...?" Albedo surmised. "He may begin to recall things after some time. But in the odd chance that he doesn't..."

This could be a new start for him. A life separate from the burdens of his past.

'There should not be anything that other humans or I can do, that he cannot.' You recall Albedo's words. Perhaps you may find him as a helpful companion for your adventures.

Or, you may be able to help him settle into a 'normal' life.

Putting aside the moral dilemma of making up a new identity for him, you've been living a little awkwardly with Rubedo in your teapot abode, ever since. He really doesn't seem to remember his vice against Albedo or intent to silence you - and you've been mostly treating him like a patient up until now.

"Good morning," you greet, nudging open the door of the guestroom with your hip while you balanced a tray of food in your hands. "Did you sleep well?"

Rubedo looks up from the Teyvat Travel Guide that you've brought him for light reading (he hadn't requested any specific material; just content that would jog his memory about Teyvat), and nods. "It is still hard for me to recall the contents of my dreams, but I believe I was on the mountain you described you rescued me from." Dragonspine.

You've noticed that he does differ from Albedo in a couple of ways (not that you managed to observe him at all before this debacle, since he mysteriously went into hiding after your first meeting long ago). Rubedo is a little sharp and blunt in the way he speaks - regarding the trinkets you've brought him with curiousity, but not quite wonder. He is curious about the outside world but regards them as new content to pick apart. You've seen the gears turning in his head as you handed him a kamera for the first time, and he spent the day disassembling it and putting it back together again.

You have no doubt that Rubedo is also a genius, judging from the way he copied Albedo's alchemy back during your first confrontation on Dragonspine and effortless dissection of trinkets you've brought him. But you're also starting to feel bad for keeping him trapped in this room; you're cautious for a reason, yes, but he is still a person. You can't keep him under room arrest for much longer.

"Rubedo," you start, causing his eyes to flick up from his book to meet yours. "Would you like a tour of the abode?"

"Are you sure?" He stays put in his bed, regarding you with a stare that is not quite blaming, but not deceived by your demeanor by any means. Rubedo can tell that you're keeping him here for a reason, but he's never attempted to pry beyond taking note of how nervous you seem around him. His lips curl into a small smile. "I was beginning to wonder if we weren't on amicable terms, since you've always been a little wary around me."

You try not to react. "Of course not! It's just, your whole memory loss thing made me cautious; I didn't want to be too forward when you don't remember who I am."

"Forward...?" He tilts his head, a little cat-like. "In what way?"

Shit. "In- In a friendly way!" You ramble, making stuff up. Of course he'd be the type to pay attention to wording. "We used to spar for fun, and get into fights that weren't too serious..." You start to get flashbacks of Whopper-bedo attacking you and your friends. "You... were quite the alchemist." You finish weakly. "We were acquainted, but weren't too close. I just happened to be the one who found you on the mountain that night, like I told you before."

"...And I lived quite a secluded life, so not many people knew me." Rubedo repeats the half-truths you've told him. His smile turns a little crooked. "I must've liked you quite a lot, to have interacted that much with you."

"I guess so!" You agree, ushering him out of the room in hopes that his first view of the rest of your house will distract him.

Rubedo scans over the furnishings, stopping by the picture frames around the living room. It doesn't take long for him to decide that he doesn't know any of these people. "You must have been quite the popular adventurer."

It's a good thing you had the foresight (read: paranoia) to remove all images of Albedo, just in case Rubedo did manage to sneak out of his room when you weren't there. "Well... I've been to a lot of places, so I guess it's natural to collect my memories like this, somehow."

Rubedo hums. "And it seems like there is none with me."

Unsure of how to respond to that, you blab the first reason you can think of. "Well! We never had a reason to take pictures together, and weren't that close, so..." You quiet down. "I wasn't sure about our boundaries."

It's quite clear that you are holding something back, or lying. And despite Rubedo's unfamiliarity with human customs, he's not an idiot. "Traveler..."

"Right! You haven't been outside in a week!" You grab his wrist and promptly drag him out to the outdoor area of your abode; filled with flowers and critters that you've adopted during your travels. "Some fresh air would do you some good!"

Disagreement flickers in Rubedo's eyes until you push the main doors open, leading the both of you into a lush, peaceful scene. Crystalflies and birds flutter about your large garden, which is being tended to by the wonderful means of Tubby, your teapot supervisor.

The 'sunlight' and night in here is also somewhat manually decided upon, thus it's comfortingly warm as you both stroll through the flowers and gaze out at the great expanse of floating clouds. You mention that on one of the far-off islands, you've been meaning to create a little sanctuary walk with waterfalls and the like, but haven't had the time to.

Rubedo's been a little quiet. And finally, he asks:

"...Why are you showing me all of this?" This time, confusion tinges in his voice, as he finally forces you to meet his eyes by turning to you. "No matter how you may have felt responsible for my care, we didn't seem to be very close. I don't understand why you'd keep me here instead of sending me back to where I used to live."

Your bravado wavers. Everything he's said is reasonable, but you don't have the heart to say that you don't know where to send him, nor want him to find out that there's 'another him' walking around in the form of Albedo, and question his origins from there. It's clear from your time with Rubedo that he's sharp and will figure it out in no time.

"The truth is..." You force out, grasping for straws. "You never told me where you lived - we only met on Dragonspine as our little getaway. So I don't know who else you're acquainted with either, or who to contact. But, um... You've also lived here before, so I figured it wouldn't be too bad if I just housed you until you got your memories back, and..."

You would later learn that Rubedo has an excellent memory. And that, mortifyingly, one of the books you've haphazardly brought him based on the title, thinking it was a regular novel, was a romance book.

'When one stays over at another's home, that may imply that a type of close relationship exists between them...'

'...Was there something of that nature between us?'

Perhaps it was the way he was looking at you; intent, thoughtful, and somehow intense, but it felt like something bad may happen if you said no. Something in your gut told you that while saying yes would land you into a whole different boat of trouble, saying no means that Rubedo may discover the truth somehow with that brilliant mind of his - much sooner than you're prepared for.

"...Maybe." You look down at your hands, delaying the inevitable. Twisting this into something that may become much worse, once his past was brought to light. "It was never anything official, but there were things about each other that only we knew."

True, yet horribly false. "Despite that, we still had a bit of distance between us. But we did continue to meet on Dragonspine... and I guess I just didn't want to take advantage of your memory loss, so I've been keeping my distance."

A budding romance that never really caught on or bloomed. That seemed to be enough for Rubedo, who seemed to regard your past behavior as fairly in-line with what you just said; it explains why you were willing to house him but seemed uncomfortable at the same time. Maybe you'll twist this into a 'I think my feelings have settled, and that we should just be friends' situation in a few days, and that'll be that.

...That should've been that, but after a short period of retrospection, Rubedo seems to have decided on something. And you cant be sure if this is how he'd genuinely respond to the situation or if it was just a test.

"What... What are you doing?" You squeak, not having expected a pair of hands to cover yours, taking the knife and ingredients gently out of your grasp as Rubedo replies, standing behind you.

He's way too close!

"I just thought I'd help you cook, from now on." He answers, voice soft due to your proximity. Despite not having any body heat, you could feel his hair tickling your shoulder as he looked over it to chop up the vegetables on the cutting board for you. "I'm afraid you'll have to guide me through the steps, but I've watched you prepare dinner enough times to know how cutting these work." He pauses. "Is it not what couples do?"

Spending time together. Cooking together. And maybe...

Rubedo is not a person who picks his words without thinking, and the word couple hits you like a truck. Suddenly, your ears are burning. And it takes all the willpower in your body to hold still and not expose how flustered you've become.

Knowing Rubedo, even if this was a test - he wouldn't be the kind of boyfriend that's shy by any means.

What kind of a mess have you roped yourself into?