#this would sting less if it did not happen constantly.

[goddessofthedawn]

here's the situation: me, 26, babyfaced, no gray hair, dresses like a teenager. fifth grade teacher. fourth year teaching in general, first year in elementary.

teach at a school where some high schoolers are classroom helpers. teach at a school where 3-4-5 teachers have departmentalized so we're not in our classrooms all the time.

fourth grade teacher who teaches writing has a sub. i go to my job of teaching spelling to other fourth graders before her sub comes in. come back into the room at prep.

she's here.

"oh, do you help in this classroom???"

"no. this is. my classroom."

dead silence for a minute.

"OH, you're miss [LAST NAME!!] i thought you were a HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT!!"

[merthosus]

Birthday Cake

Summary: After your fingers slip and you drop Grace Cake, your boyfriend yells at you and takes his anger out on you. After you had scraped up the cake, you were on your way out to your car. But someone was already waiting for you with a new cake in their hand.

This Story is inspired by this Tic Tok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeTPh561/

“You don’t need to apologize for his behavior”

Tentatively, you looked around for your boyfriend to see if he had seen it. But before you could even turn your head in his direction, you felt his hand on your cheek. You recoiled and sat on the floor in front of him. No one had noticed, everyone was watching Grace trying to smash the piñata. You now felt like the piñata too, only less colorful. However, you were very glad that the attention of the others wasn't on you at the moment.

“How can you be so useless?” he asked you as he took a few steps towards you. The loud children's music drowned out his shouting in the crowd. With every step he took towards you, you slipped back a little, until at some point you felt the wall behind you. That he reacted like this was nothing new to you. You knew he had an anger problem, but you always tried to look on the bright side. He just didn't want you to fail. Several nights went by as he knelt at your feet and cried. He said he'd never do it again and you couldn't help but look into his tear-filled eyes and believe him.

“Get another one! Everyone will hate you. How can you be so stupid and clumsy?” he yells at you. Before you even realized it, tears were streaming down your cheek. "The whole evening is ruined because of you!", he yells. Your heart was arching, like someone took it out, squeezed it and rammed it in again.

The sting of his words cut deeper than you could have ever imagined. You had felt small before, but now you felt insignificant, like a shadow of yourself, barely holding onto the edges of who you used to be. The tears kept coming, unbidden, each one a silent cry for help that you knew would go unanswered. You had seen this side of him before, the anger, the cruelty, but each time it reared its head, it still managed to catch you off guard, leaving you defenseless and hollowed out.

You wanted to say something, anything, to defend yourself, to make him see that it was just an accident, that you hadn’t meant to mess things up. But the words were trapped in your throat, choked off by the fear and the heartbreak. The only thing that came out was a small "I am sorry". “Get up!”, he hissed, his voice low and venomous. “Get up and go get another one. Fix this!”. Your legs felt like they were made of lead, too heavy to move, but you forced yourself to stand, your body shaking as you did. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the wall and never have to face him again, but you knew that wasn’t an option. Not now, not ever. You had learned long ago that running from his anger only made it worse.

As you stumbled toward your car, your keys jingling in your trembling hand, you felt the weight of everything crashing down on you. The second your hand touched the handle, you collapsed, all the fear, frustration, and oppression pouring out of you. You were no stranger to this feeling, after bottling it all up, it always found a way to break free. But this had never happened in public before. Usually, it was in the privacy of your bed, next to him, the very source of your pain.

Your sobs were quiet but intense, shaking your entire body. "Everything alright?" A soft voice suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts, startling you. You looked up, wiping at your tear-streaked face in a futile attempt to hide the evidence of your breakdown.

“Five?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper, cracked and raw. “I… I’m fine. I just...” You tried to smile, but it wavered, crumbling under the weight of everything you were trying to hold back. Your fingers are still clutching the keys in your hand to stop them from rattling constantly, but your mounting trembling made that an unfinishable task. “I saw it,” he says without batting an eyelid.

Five’s eyes were steady and serious as he looked at you, not buying your attempt to downplay what had happened. His voice was soft but firm, cutting through the pretense you had tried to maintain. “I saw it,” he repeated without batting an eyelid, his gaze piercing through the façade you’d constructed. You looked away, feeling a rush of shame and helplessness. The truth was too raw, too vulnerable to confront head on. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, the words feeling inadequate and hollow. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Five stepped closer, his presence a steadying force amidst your chaos. He walks closer to you, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. “You don’t need to apologize for his behavior,” he said, his voice gentle but unwavering. “You’re not at fault here. You deserve to be treated with respect, not anger and blame.” You could hardly process his words through the fog of your distress, but something about his unflinching support made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t been in a long time. For the first time, someone was standing up for you, not just against your boyfriend, but for your own sense of self-worth.

As Five reached out, his hand brushed away the tears on your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the cruelty you’d just experienced. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, not just from sadness, but from a kind of relief you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel. Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of hope and fear. The vulnerability you felt was overwhelming, but Five’s gaze was soft, reassuring, and unwavering. “You’re not alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. And I care.”

Five’s words wrapped around you like a warm blanket in the midst of a storm. The compassion in his eyes, so genuine and unwavering, offered a refuge from the harshness you had just endured. The tears you had been holding back continued to fall, but now they were mingled with the relief of someone truly understanding your pain.

He gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch surprisingly soothing. You leaned into his palms, finding comfort in his proximity. His thumb brushed away the remnants of your tears, and his gaze never wavered from yours. The intensity of his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t just offering sympathy, he was offering support, something you desperately needed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice quivering. The gratitude in your heart was immense, but words seemed inadequate. Five simply nodded, his expression softening even more. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both tender and reassuring. The kiss was gentle at first, a sweet promise of understanding and care. But as you both sank into the moment, the kiss deepened, fueled by the raw emotions that had been building up inside you. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency, as if trying to convey all the feelings that words couldn’t express. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the warmth of his embrace.

You responded with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The kiss became more fervent, an exploration of comfort and connection that transcended the pain you had just experienced. It was a moment of shared solace, a physical manifestation of the support he had offered with his words. Eventually, the kiss softened, but neither of you wanted to let go. Five’s arms wrapped around you, holding you securely as you rested your forehead against his.

But both of you, so tangled in the moment, didn't see the two eyes, sharply watching you two.

Thanks for reading love :)

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 7

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.

A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!

Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!

Chapter Playlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

---

You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.

It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.

You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.

Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?

The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.

You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.

You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.

Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.

You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.

Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.

You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.

It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.

Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.

You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.

“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.

“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.

“How’re you doing?”

You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”

Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”

You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.

“I mean- fuck.”

“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.

“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.

You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”

He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”

“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”

You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”

“The worry, the waiting…”

“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”

He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn’t keep them in.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”

“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.

“Just don’t give up on him yet.”

You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.

The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.

Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.

That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.

How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.

You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.

Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.

He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Uhh-”

“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”

Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.

“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”

He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.

“So, how are you, then?”

Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.

“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”

“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”

“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.

“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”

“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”

Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.

“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”

“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”

Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”

“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”

“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”

“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”

Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.

“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.

“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.

Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.

Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.

You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.

“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.

You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.

You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.

“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.

“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.

“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.

“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.

“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.

Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.

His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.

You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.

“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.

You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.

“Can I get you ladies another round?”

“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.

You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.

He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.

It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.

He’s not Will.

You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.

“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.

“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.

“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.

But he wasn’t Will.

“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.

“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”

You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.

A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.

Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.

You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.

The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.

Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.

“Need help?”

You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.

“You alright?”

You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.

“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.

“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.

You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.

“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”

It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.

“He does?”

Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

“Yeah?”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.

“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”

“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.

You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”

Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.

You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.

“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”

“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.

“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”

You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.

It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.

Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.

Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.

The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.

Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.

He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.

Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.

So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.

Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.

You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.

It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.

How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.

You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.

Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.

Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.

“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.

“Hey, Ben. You running?”

“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.

“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.

“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.

“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”

“Fuck, seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”

Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.

“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.

Benny sighed, “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”

“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”

“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”

Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”

Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.

He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.

He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.

One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.

Tomorrow.

You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.

He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.

Will was coming home.

As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.

You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.

It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.

You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.

The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.

There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.

He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.

He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.

It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.

After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.

The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.

Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.

You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.

You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.

He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.

He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.

He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.

Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.

Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.

It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.

His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.

You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”

Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.

You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.

Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.

His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.

Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.

His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.

You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.

Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.

Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.

The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.

You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.

Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.

You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.

“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”

His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.

He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.

His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.

You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.

Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.

Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.

Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.

Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.

Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.

Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.

Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.

His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.

Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.

After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.

A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.

---

Part 8

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[s4toruz]

chapter 1 - unexpected vacation

tags: megumi x reader, forced proximity, opposites attract

warnings: swearing probably

word count: 1K

masterlist

there was snow in your hair and a warm, thick scarf around your neck when you arrived to the small town gojo sent you to.

you arrived by a train, you had to walk a little bit from the station, but it was just enough to freeze every fiber of your body, making you shiver a little as the wind blew into your face. you closed your eyes for a moment, then tried keeping your face towards your shoes, watching as some water splashed with every step you took.

everywhere you looked, blinding whiteness looked back at you, from the sky, from the small forest next to the house you'll be staying in. the only black spot in sight was standing next to you with his arms crossed like a pouting child who got told no.

megumi was standing next to you, looking everywhere but your eyes. he was clearly unhappy – to say the least – with the fact that you two will need to spend a whole month here in the middle of nowhere.

he was holding his, and your stuff in his hands as he lead the way to the house. you fiddled with the cast on your right hand. you felt a slightly guilty that he had to hold your bags too, due to your arm being useless at the moment. not too guilty tho.

on a quite unfortunate mission you got badly injured, even breaking your arm. the doctors managed to help most of your wounds, but you still needed a few weeks to heal properly.

at the same time, megumi was no better than you; constantly getting his ass beaten overworking himself, coming back injured from every single mission he went on, then wanting to go on twice as many to 'improve', and – this one irritates you the most – he was still not getting along with you well.

you were well aware of the fact that he didn't like you since the beggining of the year but you never understood the reason why. you were trying to be kind to everyone you could – at least when giving first impressions – but he just kept being so frustratingly cold towards you.

sigh.

this whole living together thing probably won't help you two either. you could already imagine all the arguements that were about to happen during those long weeks. hell, you were sure that even today, he'll find something to hate about you.

glancing at his frame walking beside you again, you noticed the way the little white snowflakes were falling on his black hair, contrasting it as they slowly melted away. his hair looks kinda soft if you look at it from closer.. would he be mad if you touched it? probably.

"what are you staring at?"

he glared at you with his sharp blue eyes, pulling you out of your thoughts. did he really never smile?

"i wasn't staring!"

"then?"

you shrug (then regret it as you feel the stinging pain in your body, basically everywhere), playing it off nonchalantly with more or less success.

"just happened to look in your way."

you walk up the one or two stairs, then open the door with your good hand, letting him in before following.

you look around the house for the first time and...wow! just wow. it was a wooden building but the cold couldn't sneak in anyways. old looking paintings decorated the wall, and a soft rug spread on the – also wooden – floor. except for the front door, sliding doors were everywhere.

you take off your shoes and coat quickly and start exploring the house, megumi simply rolling his eyes at your overly excited nature.

"if you fall while running i will even laugh at you!"

he would say as he's putting down your bags in the bedroom.

"and i will be surprised that you're even capable of such thing!"

you say with your eyes narrowed challegingly at him before wandering off somewhere else. preferably where he isn't there.

he didn't bother to answer, just stayed in the bedroom, observing it as he had nothing better to do. it was designed to be one big room, but there was a sliding door in the middle if the room needed to be separated. and in his opinion, it needed to be.

your irritating giggling filled the whole house, making him groan. have you never been to a town, or what? have you never seen a house? what the hell are you so happy about.

you were the one with the broken arm, yet he was suffering so much more already! he put his hands in his pockets, standing infront of the huge window in the bedroom, staring at the way the snow is gently falling on the trees and ground outside, wind blowing away a few stray leaves.

"this whole place is so pretty isn't it??"

you barge into the room, disturbing his peace.

"would be prettier if it was quiet."

megumi mumbles, glancing at you over his shoulder, to which you just tilt your head with a small laugh.

"what do you mean, it's already so quiet! it needs a little more life!"

oh my gosh. he is holding back the insanely strong urge to facepalm right now. were you stupid, or just trying to annoy him? why did you always needed to be where he was?? it was already getting too irritating. all your stupid habits. all the unstoppable blabbering, the loud laughs at every dumb joke you ever heard, the cute little hand gestures all the time- wait what? nevermind.

"aren't you supposed to rest?"

"why are you sooo boring? i wanna look around the town!"

he shook his head, starting to unpack his stuff.

"no."

"please!"

"no."

"pleeeeease!"

the begging continued the whole afternoon, and when he said no for the 25th time, megumi knew, this is about to be a very, very long month.

and you knew that you won't make it any easier for him. you're already here anyways. he will like you; whether he wants it or not.

© s4toruz 2024 , do not copy , modify or translate my work

aaaand here's the first chapter!! wohoo!! i can't believe i'm starting my first series here. i wrote on wattpad a few years ago, but i never got so many support as i got here, and i'd like to thank y'all for that here! i don't know when the next chapter will come, i'm not good with keeping scedules but i'll try to bring it as fast as possible! also, this chapter was only proof-read once so sorry if there are any mistakes. this is so short omfg i'll try to write more in the future!!!

reblogs and comments are appreciated!!

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[r0ttenhearts]

Words On a Screen II

kazuha left you both at the table, your hands warming on a cup of coffee as scaramouche sat in front of you. he looks strangely uneasy, constantly adjusting his many rings on his fingers as he looked at the table, not at you.

“so? what could you possibly have to say to me scaramouche?” he visibly flinched at the lack of your usual endearing names as you spoke to him bluntly. after his many attempts to try and talk to you over the phone he seemed almost afraid to say something to you now that you were both sitting in front of each other.

his mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. his thoughts were jumbled up and unable to form a sentence, an excuse for what he’s done to you.

“(y/n), i.. i never meant for you to find out that way.”

you scoff, your grip tightening on your mug as you look at his face.

“oh really? is that so? so when was i to be notified that my so called lover has been cheating on me? tell me, when?”

scaramouche’s eyes widened as he looks you in the eyes, the hurt and anger swirling in yours almost want to make him look away.

“i’m sorry, (y/n). please just, look— you know me, okay? you know the real me, unlike anyone else has. you know this hurts me as much as it hurts you. everything i said to her— i didn’t mean it. honest. all i see is you (y/n).”

he reaches across the table, grabbing your hand before you promptly snatch it out of his grip. glaring daggers at the boy you once swore you’d always forgive. scaramouche’s head hung low, his hands on his lap as his hair covered his eyes.

“please.. let’s just go home. i promise i’ll make this up to you. we still have so much planned, remember? our anniversary is coming up a-and we haven’t gotten married yet, in sumeru like we said we would. don’t let that go to waste—”

“oh really scara? don’t let it go to waste? you’re the one who did that. you did that when you got in bed with that woman, professed the same words we said to each other to her! this is not my fault.”

you laughed dryly, standing up from the kitchen table as you walked over to kazuha’s door. scaramouche looked up from his lap, looking the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him as he looked to your angry form opening the door.

“please get the fuck out of kazuha’s house and never talk to me or show yourself around me again.”

scara slowly stood up from the table, walking out of the house as you slammed the door behind him.

it was really over, like he said it would be.

but why did it hurt so much? didn’t he say he hated you? hated your “suffocating” presence in his life?

why did it feel so.. empty now?

the drive back to your once shared home was quiet. the anxiety in his stomach bubbling over as he stumbled his way into the kitchen, digging in the liquor cabinet you both would only indulge in on special occasions.

grabbing the biggest bottle he could find, he uncapped the liquid and took a big gulp. the stinging in his throat didn’t seem as much of a comparison with the burn in his heart.

you were really gone. he’d never wake up to your cuddles, meals, kisses and affection, or even see you again.

he fucked up. big time.

he sat on the kitchen floor, laughing quietly to himself as the bottle sat next to him, uncapped.

he couldn’t even think of haypasia now, not with you gone. wasn’t she the whole reason why this happened? his affair with a woman he couldn’t care less about now?

it was ironic really, the way he saw the both of you now that he’d lost you. you’d far outweigh the scale of what he’d wished and yearned for since his abandonment as a child.

and what, now you were going to stay with kazuha? the man he introduced you to? it all tasted bitter as he took another swig of the bottle.

time seemed to pass slowly after the breakup. scaramouche stopped streaming and disappeared online, the same being for haypasia. he no longer talked to her after that day, staying cooped up in his now empty home, hugging a sweater you had forgotten to bring along.

when he heard you and kazuha had gotten together he drunk himself into a heavy hangover. he didn’t consider himself a drinker, not until that day. those big shiny bottles being his only comfort as you had taken the small cat that you both had adored.

this was the life he had declared he had wanted for the past two years to a woman he no longer cared to speak to.

but it was just words on a screen, right?

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[scary-grace]

if my heart was a house (chapter 2) - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

It's been nineteen years since Tomura was sentenced to death, and you've built a life in the space he left behind, braced each day for the worst. You're prepared for everything - the questions your daughter asks, the memories that sting a little more in the winter, the specter of the news you've been afraid of for years. But of all the things life's thrown your way, it's the one you haven't dared to hope for might be the one thing you can't handle. (cross-posted to Ao3) The prequel can be found here: what I can't remember nowwritten for @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday event! Banner/divider by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It’s freezing when you step out of the community center, and only the fact that Chihiro’s waiting for you to pick her up at school prevents you from going right back in and borrowing a scarf and gloves from the bin of spares. You knew you should have dressed more warmly, but you didn’t realize there’d be so much wind. By the time you make to the car, your teeth are chattering, and the car always takes longer to warm up than you want it to. You moved to Hokkaido nineteen years ago because it was the last place anyone would look for you, and no one’s found you yet. You just wish the price of privacy didn’t include freezing your ass off in the moonless polar night.

You think Chihiro worries about you a little less lately. You’ve gone to a month of pottery classes, and you make sure to respond to messages in the PTA moms’ group text every so often, and once when Kaori’s crazy mom asked you to get tea, you agreed. You left that conversation feeling like you’d been through a tornado, but the important thing is that you’re trying. That Chihiro sees you trying. That when she moves away for school, her worry for you won’t hold her back.

Her comment about you not having friends hit a little too close to home, and it’s still hanging around in your head. You used to have friends — Tomura’s friends, and some of your own. You loved them. You know they loved you. Half the reason you survived Tomura’s arrest and trial was because they were with you, suffering the same way, helpless to stop anything that was happening and trying all the same. Knowing all of that, it makes even less sense that you ran from them afterward.

But that’s always been who you are. When you’re hurt, when you’re scared, when you’re sad, you pull back from the world. You don’t like having your feelings where other people could see, and if you didn’t like having your feelings in front of anybody, there was no way you were having your baby in front of Tomura’s friends. You weren’t interested in how they felt about it. You didn’t want to hear what they’d say. And you didn’t want them involved, constantly circling, reminding you of everything you lost. Reminding your baby, once they were old enough to understand. Your new new job (you lost the first new one), your apartment, your friends, your city — it all started to feel like a prison. You could run, so you did.

Lately, though, you’ve been thinking about them. Enough to look them up and see that Toga’s a fairly well-known costume designer, and wish you could talk sewing with her; find out that Dabi’s doing okay, when you’d been worried ever since you met him that he’d wind up in prison; learn that Spinner’s a writer with a popular series of detective novels, famous for mercilessly skewering the police over their incompetence and corruption. You’ve thought about reaching out, seeing if they know anything about Tomura’s situation, if they’ve heard anything from him. Then you decided it wasn’t worth it. You don’t want to find out that he’s spent nineteen years talking to them and not to you.

Your car finally warms up. You take a deep breath, shove the thought of your old friends away, and drive.

Someone’s car spun out on the route you planned to take to the high school, and you call Chihiro to let her know you’ll be a little late. She doesn’t answer, but she probably just busy. The choir director is kind of a hardass, but Chihiro worships the ground she walks on, and she’d never interrupt a rehearsal for something like a call from her probably-clingy mom. You are a little clingy. You just don’t ever want her to wonder where you are. To spend even a second doubting that you’ll be there when she needs you.

You get to the school, park, and switch idly between channels on the radio, skipping away whenever you hear a snatch of the news. The choir kids trickle out of school slowly, talking through chattering teeth, and scatter to their parents’ cars. You watch for Chihiro, knowing that she stays late to talk to the choir director sometimes. But then the lights in the music room go out. The choir director steps out, locking the door behind her, and fear like you’ve never experienced in your life floods through you.

It feels like acid in your veins. You lurch out of your car and get in the director’s way as she heads for hers. “Where’s Chihiro?”

“She left at the break,” the director says. “Typically I don’t allow it, but she’s an excellent student and she’s never asked before —”

Chihiro left. Chihiro left school an hour ago. You can barely speak. “What happened? Did she get sick? Why didn’t you call me —”

“She said she would,” the director says, bewildered. “She didn’t?”

“If she’d called me, I’d have picked her up already.” Your voice stutters, fractures. “What happened?”

“She and her friends were discussing something. A news article, I think. I doubt that’s what caused it.” The director is frowning now, disconcerted to your terrified. “When we resumed practice, she was distraught, and asked to be excused early.”

Distraught. You’ve never heard anybody use that word to describe your daughter. “Did she say why?”

“She needed to go home. She said it was a family emergency.”

A family emergency? You’re her family. Your parents passed away when she was in middle school and you and your brother haven’t spoken in years. What family is she talking about? You don’t need that answer right now. You need to find her. “Thank you,” you choke out, and run back to your car.

You and she live five miles outside of town — on a big road that gets plowed and salted, sure, but still outside of town. Could she walk all the way home in an hour? You don’t think so. Not in this weather. And you can’t think of anywhere else she would go. You drive slowly, carefully along the road, your heart rising into your throat at each bend in the road and sinking when the stretch of road ahead of you continues to be empty. Your mind twists in agony. A family emergency. What does that even mean? It crosses your mind that it’s the perfect excuse, one no teacher would ever refuse a student like Chihiro — but why wouldn’t she call you? Why would she start walking home in the dark? What is there that she thinks she can’t bring to you, that you wouldn’t help her with? You’d do anything for her. You just have to find her, and you’ll figure it out.

You catch up to her halfway home, her hands jammed into her pockets and her shoulders hunched against the cold, her breath billowing out in a frozen cloud. The relief of finding her lasts for only a second. Now you need to get her home. You flip on your hazard lights and slow to a crawl alongside her, rolling down your window. “Chihiro, get in the car!”

She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look your way. “I’m so glad I found you, but I don’t understand,” you say. “You must be freezing. Why didn’t you call me? I was so scared –”

You’re making this about you. It’s not about you. “Chihiro, please get in the car. I just want you to be safe. I love you —”

“Shut up!” She wheels on you, and you hit the brakes, more in shock than anything else. Your daughter’s eyes are swollen and bloodshot with tears, and her lips are cracked and bleeding in the cold. Her mouth is turned down like you haven’t seen it in more than a decade, but her eyes are hot with rage. “Don’t come near me. Don’t even talk to me. I didn’t call you because I hate you. I hate you! How could you do that to me?”

“Do what?” you ask.

“Lie,” Chihiro spits, or sobs. “How long were you going to lie to me, Mom? Were you ever going to tell me the truth about my dad?”

Your stomach drops. How did she find out? How many people know? “I never lied,” you say. “I never told you he was dead. I always told you —”

“He’s gone.” Chihiro’s nose is dripping. She looks frozen. “Don’t play that stupid game. You knew what I thought you meant when you say that, and you just let me think — you were always going to let me think he was —”

“How did you find out?”

“That’s all you care about? I hate you —”

Right now, you hate yourself, too. It hurts to hear Chihiro say that, hurts to know she’s so angry with you that she’d rather freeze than spend even a second in the car with you — but your feelings don’t matter right now. They stopped mattering nineteen years ago. This is about your daughter. You shove your feelings to one side. “You hate me,” you repeat, and she scoffs. “You can hate me just as much in the car as you can out there, and the car is warm.”

Chihiro squints at you as she wipes her eyes. “It’s not that far. I can walk.”

“Yeah. But it’ll take you another hour, and it’ll just keep getting colder.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I won’t try to talk to you. In the car or when we’re home. Just — please, get in the car, Chihiro. You don’t have to hurt yourself to let me know you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry, Mom. This is way beyond angry.” Chihiro takes a deep breath and coughs on the cold air. “If you try to talk to me, I’m getting out again.”

You don’t deserve to feel relieved, but you do. You put the car in park and unlock the passenger-side door. “Okay.”

The drive home is awful, but at least it’s brief. The first thing Chihiro does after taking off her shoes and coat is head straight for the bathroom. The water switches on in the shower, and you’ll bet it’s scalding hot. She must be so cold. And so angry with you, angry enough to override her better judgment and drive her out onto the road alone. Is she right about you? Were you ever going to tell her the truth about Tomura? You don’t know. But you should have seen this coming, somehow. You could have seen it coming, would have, if you were doing anything but hiding from your own pain. Of course Chihiro’s furious with you. You deserve it.

Deserving it doesn’t make it hurt any less, so like always, you find something to keep you busy. You set out clean pajamas for Chihiro on her bed. Then you finish folding the laundry, emptying the dishwasher, folding the quilts that are still strewn across the couch from Chihiro’s movie night with Kaori over the weekend. After that it’s time to sew, and even with the focus paper-piecing takes and the noise of the sewing machine, you can’t shut out a single question: How did she find out?

The water in the shower shuts off. You hear Chihiro’s footsteps in the hallway, then the sound of her bedroom door shutting. Shutting, not slamming. You abandon your sewing machine, planning to go to your bedroom and stay there, leaving her the kitchen and the living room and not coming out until she goes to sleep. You don’t want her to have to look at you. Or maybe you just don’t want to see how she looks at you now.

The thought stops you at the threshold. You’ve made everything about what’s happened into something about you. Who are you helping by going to hide? Yourself. You’re protecting yourself from your daughter’s anger, which she deserves to express, and from the questions she probably wants to ask, which you should have answered a long time ago. You can’t hide. You need to stay here and be the person — the parent — you should have been all along. Even if it’s too late.

You hear the bedroom door open, but you don’t turn, and Chihiro comes closer with soft footsteps. She stops at the edge of the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Making hot chocolate. Do you want some?”

“You’re being weird,” Chihiro says. She sounds unnerved. “I told you I hate you. Why aren’t you yelling? You’re not even crying. Do you even care?”

Your heart breaks a little bit, even as a surge of frustration rocks you. “It hurts to hear you say that,” you admit. No more lying. From here on out, you tell the truth. “But I don’t think it hurts as much as finding out your mom’s been lying to you for eighteen years.”

Chihiro’s quiet. She’s quiet, and you’re not trying to downplay what you did or run away from it, so you ask a question of your own. “How did you find out?”

The electric kettle goes off with a click. “The water’s done,” Chihiro says. “Are you making hot chocolate or not?”

She reminds you so much of Tomura — that same bluntness, that same impatience, that same affinity for cutting the knot. “Yeah. And some for you.”

Once you’ve both got your cups, you head to the living room. Chihiro unfolds all the blankets you folded earlier and burrows into them, and you sit in the armchair and pull your feet up and away from the floor. She watches you over the rim of her cup. “It’s weird when you do that,” she says. “It makes you look really young.”

It’s quiet for a second. “I guess you are kind of young. They said in school that most people don’t have kids until they’re thirty, and you were only twenty-two when you had me.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Four years older than you.”

It sounds wrong when you say it. Too young. Way too young. Chihiro looks unsettled. “I wouldn’t have a kid when I was twenty-two,” she says. “Why did you?”

You take a sip of hot chocolate, trying to calm your nerves. “I’ll tell you that and everything else. I want to know how you found out first.”

Chihiro’s eyes narrow, but to your surprise, she answers. “Takako at school — she watches that true-crime show. The one you don’t let me watch.”

“I never said you couldn’t watch it. I just said not on the TV out here,” you say. Chihiro rolls her eyes. “Your computer in your room is fair game.”

“My computer doesn’t get cable.”

“So pirate it,” you say with a shrug, and Chihiro nearly chokes on her next sip of hot chocolate. “I never said you couldn’t watch it at all.”

“Yeah. Like you never actually said my dad was dead,” Chihiro says. Ouch. “Do you want me to tell you or what? She watches that show, and you’re not the only mom who’s weird about it, so she tells us all about the episodes when they come out. I guess this week’s episode was about this guy Shigaraki Tomura who killed his whole family, and how he’s been on death row longer than anybody else in Japan. So we looked him up to see if he’s still alive — I guess the episodes get made in advance — and there were pictures of him at his trial. He has the same birthmark I do.”

You nod. “And the same eyes. Ever since you were a baby.”

Chihiro looks down into her cup. “One of my friends joked about it. I thought it was funny, so I laughed. But then I was thinking about it, and the — timing, I guess. And I realized you never said he was dead. My whole life, that was what I thought, but it wasn’t what you said.”

She takes another sip of hot chocolate. “I was looking at the pictures. From the trial, and you were in them. Your hair looked different, but I knew it was you. And I guess I — there was this one picture. From his sentencing. You’re holding his hands.”

You hadn’t realized someone snapped a photo, but you should have known. Your fingers still ache from the memory. Chihiro looks up, her eyes glassy again. “It’s him, isn’t it? My dad’s Shigaraki Tomura.”

“That’s him,” you say. You can’t call your voice steady. Flat might be better. “What do you want to know?”

“Why,” Chihiro says at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There were a lot of reasons,” you say. “I think my main one was trying to protect you.”

“From him?”

“No,” you say. “From everybody else. I don’t know if you read any of the articles about the trial, but the way they talked about him — and about me — was awful. People treated me differently, and I was just his girlfriend. I didn’t want anybody to do anything to you because of who your father was.”

“I got in fights anyway. Because I didn’t have a dad.” Chihiro’s voice is dull. “Maybe if they’d known who he was it would have been different.”

“Maybe.” You take a sip of your own hot chocolate, even though it’s getting hard to swallow. “That was part of it. Part of it was that I didn’t want you to grow up with that hanging over your head. Knowing that your dad was on death row and not even being able to visit him.”

“You said he didn’t know about me. Was that a lie, too?”

“I tried to tell him,” you say. “I called, and wrote letters, and tried to visit — he never wanted to see me. And he never answered.”

Your voice wavers slightly. You don’t try to fight it. Fighting it makes it worse. “I wanted to. He wouldn’t let me.”

Chihiro looks disturbed. “So that picture —”

“That’s the last time I saw him,” you say, and Chihiro’s expression collapses. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry about that.” Chihiro lets go of her cup to wipe her eyes. “Why else didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was selfish,” you say. It hurts to admit it, to admit that what you swore you were doing for Chihiro’s own good was for you all along. But you have to be honest. You’ve lied to her, by omission or on purpose, enough for a lifetime. “I didn’t want to think about what happened. Any of it. And if you didn’t know — if nobody knew — then I wouldn’t have to talk about it ever again.”

Chihiro wipes her eyes a second time. You keep talking, your throat aching more in every word. “I didn’t wake up one morning and decide not to tell you about Tomura. It just happened —”

“And kept happening. For eighteen years.”

She’s not going to let you get away with anything. The fact that you know she shouldn’t doesn’t make it any less frustrating. “Yeah. Eighteen years. I did it because it would make things easier, for me. Because it wouldn’t hurt as much, for me. I was thinking a lot about me and I should have been thinking about you.”

Chihiro looks away. “Do you think he did it?”

“Chihiro —”

“He confessed,” Chihiro says. “He said he did it.”

Yeah, Tomura confessed. They interrogated him for twenty days straight before they got anything out of him, and when you came to visit him again before the trial, he looked like something had broken inside of him. He seemed out of it, too. He barely recognized you, barely knew you were there. You don’t know what they did to him in there, but you trust that confession even less than you trust the testimony his adoptive father gave. “He confessed,” Chihiro repeats, her voice rising. She fumbles her phone out of her pocket, unlocks it one-handed. “Do you think he did it?”

She’s looking something up. You remember all at once how Chihiro stumbled on him in the first place. “Did they execute him? Chihiro, tell me —”

“Do you think he did it?” she demands, and you shake your head. You were there at the trial. Every day. You never saw anything that made you believe he was guilty. Chihiro squeezes her eyes shut and holds out her phone towards you. “You were right.”

Some part of you registers what she just said, but it doesn’t stick. It bounces off the surface and vanishes, because Chihiro has a news site open, with a bright red BREAKING NEWS banner across the top. SHIGARAKI TOMURA EXONERATED AFTER NINETEEN YEARS ON DEATH ROW.

You spend one wild second panicking at the sight of an “ex” word in the same sentence as Tomura’s name and “death row”, but then you force yourself to go back. Exonerated. Not executed, exonerated. You lift the phone out of Chihiro’s hands and she lets you take it — with a caveat. “Read it out loud, okay? So I know we both saw the same thing.”

You start reading, your voice rattling. “In a time of rising crime, escalating drug trafficking, and a loss of trust in our institutions, the accused mass murderer Shigaraki Tomura became the avatar for Japan’s worst nightmares: A remorseless killer, hiding amongst the innocent, ready to strike at any time. Those who questioned the scant evidence the prosecutor provided were ridiculed. Those who believed that his confession to the murders of his parents, his grandparents, and his older sister was the product of coercion were reviled. Nineteen years later, they and the man they spoke up for have seen justice served.”

Your eyes are burning. You blink back tears and keep reading. “In a stunning but well-reasoned decision released on Monday afternoon, the Supreme Court reversed all seven murder convictions against Shigaraki Tomura in light of new evidence uncovered in the course of an entirely different investigation. Midoriya Izuku, a prosecutor turned human-rights advocate, became interested in Shigaraki’s case while working to restore another inmate’s right to visits from his adoptive father — fuck!”

Chihiro looks up. “Huh?”

“Sorry. It’s just — he called me,” you say. “Midoriya Izuku. He’s been calling. I didn’t know why.”

“It’s weird when you swear,” Chihiro notes. You mumble an apology. “Keep reading.”

“Upon reviewing the available evidence and pursuing new investigations, Midoriya made a motion for a retrial, which was granted by the Supreme Court and conducted under terms of absolute secrecy in order to avoid the media circus that ensued during Shigaraki’s original trial. The Court has agreed to release all documents related to Shigaraki’s case and is expected to do so within the next twenty-four hours. Some sources have indicated that a different suspect in the Shimura family’s murders has already been taken into custody, but no official confirmation has been received.”

Your hands are shaking now, so hard you almost drop Chihiro’s phone in your cup of hot chocolate. “Mom?” Chihiro says, and you look up, blinking hard. “Do you know who they arrested?”

Your first inclination is to ask why she thinks you of all people would know, but you clamp down on that. Even though the world’s just been yanked out from beneath your feet, your daughter is still the injured party. And when you think about it, you do have some idea of who it is. “His adoptive dad. He was the one who had custody of Tomura when the murders happened, and he was really excited to cooperate with the investigation.”

“Custody?” Chihiro repeats. “How old was he when he — when they died?”

“Fifteen,” you say. “If you’re older than fourteen when you commit a crime, they can try you as an adult.”

“You think his fake dad set him up,” Chihiro says. You nod. “Is there more to read?”

“A little bit.”

Chihiro scoots over on the couch, making a space, and you sit down next to her. She has to wake up her phone again for you to keep reading, and you get the jumpscare of SHIGARAKI TOMURA EX- a second time before scrolling down to where you left off. “Although a release date has not been announced publicly, it is the view of this magazine that Shigaraki should be released from prison as quickly as possible. He has paid a debt to society that was never owed in the first place. When Shigaraki Tomura is released from Fuchu Prison, he will walk out a free man. Society’s atonement for the crime it committed against him is only beginning.”

You glance at the byline out of habit. This article was written by Kizuki Chitose, and if you remember right, the last article she wrote about Tomura struck a pretty different note. She’d better start atoning right now. You’d be happy to help. Balling up every single scathing editorial and hit job she wrote and jamming them down her throat feels like it would be a good start.

“It’s real,” Chihiro says. You nod. “He’s getting out.”

You nod again. You’re with Kizuki on wanting Tomura to be released as quickly as possible. You’re just not sure what happens next.

Chihiro’s thinking along the same lines. “Mom, what are we going to do?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you promise her. She leans in against your side, and some horrible part of you exults. With the chaos that’s about to unfold, Chihiro can’t afford to hate you any longer — or if you stop thinking about it like an asshole, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen and you’re the person she turns to. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know any more than she does. You’re the adult, but something happened to you when you read that headline. Somehow it feels like no time has passed at all; like he was just torn away from you, like you’re a lonely, hopeless twenty-two-year-old with a baby on the way all over again.

But you aren’t. You made it this far. Your baby turned eighteen this year, and you managed to raise her close enough to right. “We’ll figure it out,” you promise her again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“Maybe you were right,” Chihiro mumbles. “It would have been harder if I knew all this time.”

You think so. It’s still not an excuse. You wrap your arm around your daughter’s shoulders and hug her closer, relieved beyond words when she doesn’t pull away. You’ll take care of her first — make sure she eats, make sure she gets some sleep, because you know from experience how much harder everything becomes without it. And after she’s fallen asleep, you’ll finally return Midoriya Izuku’s calls.

<- Chapter 1

[candiiee]

prologue. “stay still.”

warnings: experimentation, bandages, dark themes, blood, cutting, self harm, loss of appendages/limbs, knives, suicidal Reader, strangling someone to death

a/n: I’ll work on this at the same time as my other series! trust!

Pain is all you've ever known. From every breath you take, praying it's your last. You're alive because he wants you alive. laying on the operating table everyday, as your organs are poked and prodded, your screams and tears of pain falling on deaf ears.

Heartless is what he is. (At some point in your miserable life, so were you, the still beating organ in his hand, blood oozing, warm, sticky and red.)

He's a monster, smiling casually as he does unspeakable horrors to you.

You yearn for death, whatever hell there is down under would seem like heaven compared to the horrors you relive everyday, even in your dreams, or nightmares for that matter.

Are you even human? You asked him once, barely finding your voice, as it was hoarse from screaming. His only response was a smug grin, his glasses and scalpel glinting in the light that always shined down on your face.

Bloody bandages appeared to be your only layer of skin, constantly soaked and dirty. What was once white, now red. You don't even know how you look like. In fact, you don't even know how he looks like. Only that he has glasses, a mustache, and is a he.

The world is only suffering for you anyways. Pain, suffering, and scalpels. Hope was something unknown.

The same cycle everyday, cut, bleed, dress wounds, sleep, repeat. And on occasion, you got a prize for your 'hard work'. A lollipop, and something that made noise when you put it on your head. These were your comforts, very little, but comforts nonetheless.

It was disappointing to find the lollipop was no longer there after spending an hour sucking on it, not chewing, to make it last as long as possible. You were left with the stick, a tough, and chewable thing.

After testing to see if it could be sharp, drawing circles on the small patches of skin that weren't covered in bandages, drawing blood. It hurt a little, but compared to what you felt on the operating table, it was just a tiny sting.

You smiled.

.

Usually you were left on the operating table, sometimes even days on end, because you weren't important enough to remember. But today was different. Today you were allowed to wander a new room. It had something soft covering the floor, and of course you had to roll around in it.

It was wonderful exercise, according to him. He didn't leave the room, instead writing down something while watching you. That was new, you thought, at the same time noting it down for future reference. Nether less, you could also care less.

After who knows how long, he grabbed your hand and forcefully led you back to the room, inciting fear again. Weren't you good? Didn't you do a good job? You thought you were done. As he strapped you down on the table again, solidifying the belief that it was your fault, you didn't scream. You didn't wail. You didn't thrash.

That's what he wanted. Even as he injected who knows what into your bloodstream, you didn't cry.

Not even when you felt a chill go through your body, as something new once again added itself to your body.

.

You had no way how to tell the time. Nor did you know how. It was pathetic, honestly.

As time went by, you knew for a fact that while you did want to die, you didn't want to die here. It seemed impossible though. Everytime something new happened to you, off it went. God forbid it helped you out of here. One time something scaly and leathery exploded from your back, a fresh wave of pain as bones snapped and reformed.

Wings, you had thought suddenly, through the pain. He let you keep them for a bit, then off they went, your beautiful wings separated from you.

Another time sharp claws took the place of your regular nails, gleaming in the small lamp that lighted your room. You scratched your arm, to see if they were as sharp as you thought. They were, as blood oozed from the fresh cut.

Those got regularly filed down, leaving them dull. No matter. A few minutes of scratching the stone wall, and they would turn sharp again.

Webbing formed on your hands as well, but he deemed them useless, so they stayed.

Finally, today, a tail. As you let him inspect it, a stupid, foolish idea occurred. What if.. no, that was dumb.

But you could feel the newly formed nerves, muscles blood, beckoning you to move it. Around his neck. And tighten, and not let go. The smallest of smiles spread across your face, entertaining the idea.

Could you really do it? You didn't know the way out, but..

He reached for a knife, preparing to remove the wonderful new part of you. You striked first, the scaly tail wrapping itself around his neck, and squeezing.

His eyes widened, as if he couldn’t believe you were capable of such violence, if such cold heartlessness.

His mouth opened in a silent scream, as you continued to restrict his airflow, delighting in being the cause of his panic.

What you weren’t expecting was for him to fight back.

Reaching behind him, his hand scrambling for something, anything, finally finding it, and bringing it downwards into your tail, stabbing it, the syringe penetrating your skin.

If he had done such a thing ages ago, you would have cried, screaming, and given up at the slightest bit of pain.

Instead, you smiled, squeezing tighter. Sure you were a little put off, but nothing that you couldn’t handle.

While you thought this, he struck again, slashing wildly with a cursed scalpel.

That got a reaction. But one of annoyance, as blood started to ooze out of the newly formed wounds.

Nether the less, you squeezed tighter, till finally, he stopped resisting, slumping forward.

You let go, stepping over the body, a small smile playing on your lips. You were free.

The only way out was the door. So, grabbing the lollipop stick, and that other thing that you had no idea was, and made your merry way out the door.

.

That place was like a maze, designed to keep you trapped there forever. But you had finally managed to find the exit, stepping into the cold air, seeing the sky for the very first time.

You took a deep breath, relishing the feeling of fresh air flow through your lungs.

Taking a step forward, you stumbled, feeling a bit dizzy. Was it the blood that was still leaking out of you?

That was bad. You couldn’t make a glorious escape if you were going to die of blood loss. That would be pathetic.

Nevertheless, you walked for who knows how long, ignoring the blood soaking your bandages, utterly focused on putting as much space away between you and that wretched place.

.

You collapsed, groaning as you slumped into a pile of trash bags.

A nap wouldn’t hurt, right?

Laying there, thinking that you were probably going to die, you heard something clatter to the ground, and a scream.

Mustering as much strength as you could, you turned your head to the source of noise.

It came from a skinny looking guy, with a brilliant green hair, looking horrified. You slowly blinked, your breath slowing. Your last thought being that his hair looked nice.

And then the world turned dark.

©candiiee 2025

tag list: @cvnt4him , @dokidokidraft , @thoristhings @dinorawrss

Ask to be added <3

[awriterinthenight]

"I'm so sorry, Amor"

words: 1519

requested: anonymous

warnings: fighting, I don't think there is any swearing, but there might be, not beta read, also I don't know how like they make swords and shit so this is probably inaccurate, but oh well, also maybe look up an astronomy ring to help

summary: Leo keeps missing your dates due to him working and losing track of time, but he makes sure to make up for it

"I said I'm sorry, mi amor,"

"That doesn't just make up for this," you said, almost screaming it from how angry and hurt you felt. Leo had once again missed one of your date nights because he was too busy working on his stupid machines to remember the date you had planned. The date wasn't extravagant by any means. The two of you were just going to raid the kitchen, then hide out in your cabin since no one was ever there, a perk of being a Hades kid. But Leo had once again, for the 5th time this month, forgotten about it after getting too involved in his work and forgetting what time it was.

Leo was meant to meet you at 8pm in your cabin. It was currently midnight and you both were standing outside bunker 9 trying to not get caught by the harpies.

"Then what can I do to make it up to you, mi mundo, I'll do anything," he pleaded, stepping closer to you feeling worse with every step he took.

You scoffed at him, "You say that every time, and every time I tell you 'oh its okay, just don't forget next time' and every time you forget, I'm sick of it," you complain, seething with not anger, but with the feeling of being hurt and lied to and believing it each time.

Leo was desperate at this point, he didn't like seeing you like this, even worse he hated how it was him who caused it.

"I swear I didn't mean to forget, I've just been busy with what I'm working on. I'm almost done. I'll show it to you and you'll understand-" he tried pleading, but you cut him off.

"I get it, you're too busy for me with your important work. If I really don't matter as much as your stupid project then you won't care if I leave," you say, every word leaving your lip shocking you as it came out, and stinging you almost as bad as it did him. You shadow travelled away from him, feeling every bit of hurt now.

Leo tried to stop you from leaving, but untimely failed, leaving him crying outside bunker 9. He kept thinking about how stupid he was to keep working on his project and standing you up by accident. Leo was fully suffering from the consequences of his actions, but it only made him work on his project more. A) it was his hideaway, since every time you saw each other you would leave as quick as possible, and B) This was his way of making it up to you.

***

It had been almost a week now since Leo stood you up. Every day felt even worse than the last. You wouldn't wake up wrapped in the warm arms of the Hephaestus boy, but to be honest the past few months it was rare for that to happen. Almost every meal was spent alone since unless Nico was at camp you sat by yourself, usually Leo would break the rules and sit with you, but that was also happening less lately since he wouldn't show up to meals.

You thought about talking to Leo and apologising almost everyday, but then you remembered that you have nothing to apologise for, he's the one that didn't care enough about you to show up to your dates. So you spent all day training or leading camp activities.

Everyone from campers, to nymphs, to even Mr. D who rarely ever noticed campers except for you and your brother, started to notice the change. This week was filled with less of your laughter, or enthusiasm when you lead activities, and you trained even more than you did before. You trained so much that the Ares kids were starting to get scared by you since you seemed to never leave the training arena.

It was a few minutes before the bonfire and you were once again training till your fists were red with blood. Training took away all the thoughts that constantly flooded your brain. When you were done you collapsed your sword which had been on its last life since you had it since you joined the camp, and many monsters later it was one wring strike away from breaking. You asked Leo to fix it, but he kept on saying that he'll get to it, it's just not a high priority right now. Another example of how he didn't care about you. Or so you thought.

When you walked out of the arena you felt a hand on your shoulder. You were about to strike when the person spoke out, "Wait, hear me out before you do anything, please," he said, as you instantly recognized the voice. Now instead of punching, you felt like stabbing him.

"What do you want Leo?" you asked, calling him by his first name. That hurt Leo, since you always either called him Repair Boy cause you thought it was cute, or called him Valdez since in your words you thought his last name was adorable, so you loved calling him by it. Secretly Leo loved this more than he could comprehend, because one day he hoped the last name would be yours too.

Leo let out a breath, stepping into the light so that both of you could see each other now, "I just want to show you something. Give me 5 minutes," he said, before clarifying, "Without judo flipping me or hurting me in any way."

"No promises, now hurry up, I told Clarisse I would meet her at the campfire," you told him, hoping whatever he had to say wouldn't take long.

"I promise this won't take long, amor," he said, no matter how mad you were at him you still got butterflies from him calling you pet names in Spanish, "I just wanted to show you what I've been working on."

"You mean what you basically ignored me for, for weeks," you scoffed out angrily, annoyed by his audacity.

Leo let out a sigh, "I swear I'll be sorry about that for the rest of my life, but I hope this will help you forgive me," he said, grabbing your hand and placing a small object in it.

It was a ring, confusing you even more, "Is this some 'one ring to rule them all' type thing, or what?" you questioned.

The boy smiled at the reference, "No, well it might be a bit inspired by it, but that's not it. Remember how you kept telling me that I needed to fix your sword?"

You nodded, "Yes, then I remember you saying it wasn't high on your priority list," you recalled, making him cringe.

That definitely wasn't one of Leo's finest moments, "I swear I'm even more sorry about that, but hopefully this will make up for it," he said, taking the ring back.

He moved the rings on the inside revealing it was an astronomy ring. As he turned the rings a certain way a sword appeared. You watched wordlessly as he turned the bottom of the sword making it go back to ring form, as it then changed to a spear, then dagger, then back to its sword form.

"D-did you, how-I," you stumbled out, amazed by his creation.

He shrugged, handing you the sword, "You kept saying you needed me to fix yours and you also talked about how much you hated all the other daggers and spears, so I made you this to fix it. I don't think it warrants almost accidentally shutting you out, but I hope you like it," he explained, starting to walk away before you caught his hand.

"Wait Leo," you called out as he turned, face to face with you now, "I-I didn't know you were working on this. If I did I never would've gotten mad, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything I said, I swear. I love it, and I love you," you confessed.

Leo's hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close, "No, I should be sorry princessa. I stood you up and hurt you more than I ever should've. But, I do have an idea," he proposed, pulling away from you so he could see your face.

"And what is this idea of yours?" you questioned, knowing whatever he had up his sleeve was going to be fun.

He once again pulled something out of his pocket, but this time it was a DVD, "How about I make up for all the dates I missed, starting with our movie dates."

You smiled, finally feeling happy, since you hadn't felt that way all week, "I think that would be perfect," you said before connecting your lips with his. Poor Clarisse was going to be alone tonight, but she wouldn't mind when she found out she wouldn't have to deal with your moodiness anymore

That night you two spent the night watching movies, cuddling, and throwing popcorn at each other. Throughout the night Leo made sure to slide the ring onto your finger, or play with it when he held your hand.

Current Taglist (ask to be added)

@almost-gabrielle @scarlett-8 @atashiboba @that1deerpersondownstairs

[toonztown]

Mafia husband! x (GN) reader Part 2

It has been about 3 days since you've moved into the mansion, your 'fiancé' is constantly busy with work so to your delight you hardly see him. You still couldn't believe it just a few days ago you were a normal high schooler, average grades but now your staying in a house you couldn't afford in your lifetime to be married off to a member of the mafia.

You sat up in bed, you spend most of your days in your room, sleeping the day a away, hoping that this is all just a bad dream; only to find yourself disappointed every time you wake up.

just before you were about to go back to sleep, there was a soft knock at the door. "excuse me mr capone has requested you come down for breakfast at once." the voice on the other side said. you made an audible groan and you make your way out of bed, the last thing you wanted was food much less breakfast with Mr. capone. You knew denying would be a- foolish decision, he could kill you in a heart beat. You open the closet and are stunned by the amount of expensive clothing, not a single one of them looked worn, could it be? he bought them for you? You felt your heart warm ever so slightly at the thought, you shook your head. You pick out something that you liked and changed into it, not bothering to fix your hair, maybe if he finds you unappealing to the eyes he'll let you go? its a small chance but it gave you hope. now here you were, seated at a large table full of various foods you've never tried before and across from you was the man who brought you to this hell, Mr capone. Maybe this is a good time to question him when the time was right? you picked up your glass of wine, you didn't take a sip just stare at it then back at him. You gather the courage to finally ask him "so why me." you asked, your cold gaze fixed on him. your question seemed to catch him off guard for a moment, he tilted his head in confusion with a sly grin. "i have no idea what you mean dearest." he replied, downing a glass of wine, his voice had a hint of playfulness, he was totally taunting you.

now he was playing dumb? who does he think he is. You clench your fist into a ball before slamming it down on the table "dont act dumb! why did you chose me! why did you bring me here instead of just killing me! why do you want to marry me?!" through all your questioning and ranting he just stared at you silently, tapping his fingers on the table. He was going annoyed, maybe going on a rampage was not a good idea. once your anger died down you were filled with deep regret- ohh why did you do something so stupid, you sat back down. You grabbed the bottle of wine and drank it, if your going to die, might as well die intoxicated. Mr capone got up from his seat across the table and made his way over to you.

your cheek was met with a harsh slap that would have your face stinging for a while, he grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head back forcing your eyes to meet. Oh he was pissed.

"let us get one thing straight you little bitch. Firstly i didn't 'chose you' your father just didn't have the ability to have more attractive offspring, second if i wanted to kill you i would have."

his grip on your hair tightened. He then slammed your head onto the table, you could feel blood drip down your nose from the impact, you struggle to get away but this only made him do it again but harder.

" Finally, marriage is the ultimate way to have claim over you. this isn't some dumb little fairy tale where i 'fall in love with the innocent damsel.' your my slave, im the master. If you EVER, have that attitude with me again, i will send you home to your old man in a fucking body bag you worthless whore."

His words and the buzzing pain in your head made it hard to do anything but nod, he threw you to the floor and gave you a beating that you would never forget. you dont remember what happened next or how you got to bed. When you woke up, you found that your wounds were treated and a bouquet of expensive looking flowers on your bed accompanied by a note. you did not have to open it to know who it was from, i guess this was Mr capone's twisted way of apologizing after injuring you to the point of you having to passing out.

inside the note was the basic im sorry, please forgive me, i do it cause i love you and how he promises to never lay a hand on your ever again, you scoff at the thought, that was a obvious lie, did he think you were that stupid?

you crumpled the note and toss it across the room not caring where it landed, your head still hurt from how hard he grabbed your hair. If he was willing to beat you that badly for just questioning him, you fear what he will do if you try to escape. you lay back down in bed, silently cursing your dad and his stupid gambling addiction, if it wasn't for him you would be in school right now, even the worst of your bullies were better than being stuck with him. you turned and faced the wall, holding your now bruise ridden body. Pulling the covers over your eyes you drift off to sleep, dreaming of being back home with your parents, even your dad. ignoring the fact that you were to be wed, in just 5 days.

[storiesforallfandoms]

can’t keep doing this ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1668

request?: yes!

“Hi! I love your writing and you just seem like such a sweet, genuine person. ☺️ Can I request Colson x reader and they’ve broken up but they keep meeting up and hooking up with some smut and maybe some fluff at the end?”

description: in which they broke up a while ago but kept hooking up afterwards, and now she’s ready to end things for good

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, two paragraphs of smut, angst, fluff ending

masterlist (one, two, three)

You and Colson had broken up almost a year ago. It wasn’t a bad breakup. You both had different ideas of what you wanted from your futures and realized it was best if you ended your relationship and perused the futures you wanted.

The thing is, you broke up, but you were still hooking up.

It started as a drunken mistake. You were both out at the same club and ran into each other after a couple of drinks. Next thing you knew, he had you against the wall outside of the club with one hand up your shirt while yours was cupping the front of his pants. The next morning, you were surprised to find yourself waking up in his bed. You both agreed it was the last time it would happen.

And you were both horribly wrong.

It became a regular thing for one of you to text the other looking for a quick fuck, but that’s all it would be. There was no staying the night, no cuddling, nothing romantic. You had to constantly remind one another that you weren’t getting back together before, during, and after.

You had no issue with it at first. You viewed it as just a way to get over the breakup without hooking up with randos you met at clubs. You didn’t expect it to last as long as it did. But once the months came and went, and you realized that this was starting to become less of a hook up thing for you, you realized it had to come to an end. It would be better for the both of you to finally move on.

That was the plan when you texted Colson, asking him if you could come over. You were just going to put an end to everything. Tell him you had to stop and finally go your separate ways.

But then he opened the door, just in a pair of grey sweatpants and looking at you as if he were a dehydrated man and you were the first water he had seen in a long time. And you were such a sucker for both of those things.

That’s how you found yourself face first into Colson’s bedsheets; face down, ass up, with Colson’s dick abusing your g-spot with every rough thrust. Your moans were muffled by the sheets between your teeth. His fingers were digging into your hips, guiding you back to meet his thrusts. You yelped at the sudden sting of the palm of his hand meeting your ass cheek. You could already picture the perfect handprint you’d see there later.

You cried out as Colson’s fingers met your clit, rubbing quick circles in the bundles of nerves. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, telling you he was trying to coax one last orgasm from you before he reached his own. It didn’t take him long to get it. It came rushing from you before you could realize, a scream ripping from your throat as your whole body went warm and your walls contracted around him. His dick twitched inside you before he reached his own high, spilling inside of you.

Your body, sore and used, slowly fell to the bed. Colson slipped from you as you fell, hissing at the over sensitivity. You took a while to regain yourself. As you did, Colson got up from the bed and returned with cloths to clean the two of you up. You rolled onto your back and took the cloth from him. You wiped yourself and sat up. You discarded the cloth onto the floor with Colson’s other dirty laundry and started reaching for your clothes.

“What are you doing?” Colson asked.

“Leaving?” you responded, confused by his question.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“That’s usually how this works, Colson.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not how it always has to be. We can change, you know. You could...hang out for a while or something, I don’t know.”

“We can’t keep doing this,” you cut him off. “This is the last time. That’s why I asked to come see you.”

You could’ve swore you saw a look of hurt in his eyes, but you were sure you had imagined it.

“Why?” he asked. “We have a good thing going on.”

“Had,” you corrected. “We had a good thing, Colson, but then we broke up. We said we were going our separate ways because we wanted different things. That’s how it should’ve ended. These last few months never should’ve happened.”

“Then why are you saying this now? Why didn’t you say anything months ago when we started fucking?”

“Because I’m seeing someone now!”

That rendered Colson speechless. He just looked at you as you continued to put on your clothes. You couldn’t meet his eye now.

“That’s why I came over,” you continued. “One last go, then we’re done. We have to move on, Colson. I told you, I want to settle down, to find someone who wants marriage and kids. You don’t want that. So, that’s it. We move on. We stop playing with each other’s emotions like this.”

You grabbed your purse that had been discarded to the floor the minute you stepped in the room. You started for the door, but paused. You looked back at Colson one last time. He was still looking ahead, face blank.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“Some guy from a dating app,” you responded.

“And that’s what you want? Some guy from a dating app?”

Instead of answering, you said, “Goodbye Colson”, and finally walked out of his life, for good this time.

~~~~~~

That night, you were watching TV at home with delivery pizza and a bottle of wine. For the most part, you had managed to forget everything with Colson. You had blocked his number and all his social media when you got home, which was the last bits to fully remove him from your life. Then you cracked open a bottle of wine, ordered some pizza, and turned on mind numbing reality TV to cleanse your brain.

You were two glasses deep when someone rang your doorbell. You weren’t expecting anyone, and the pizza had already come. A series of knocks shortly after the doorbell rang spurred you to get up and see who was at your door.

To your surprise, you swung the door open and there was Colson.

Before you could ask him what he was doing, he brushed past you to walk into your house.

“I didn’t invite you in,” you pointed out.

“I don’t accept what you said today,” he said, ignoring your comment. “I don’t want to end things between us.”

“Colson,” you tried again.

“I don’t just mean the sex stuff,” he continued. “Listen, I was a goddamn idiot to let you get away. I didn’t think I was ready to settle down. My job, it made settling down seem impossible. I travel all the time, I’m rarely ever home. That’s not the ideal married life, and I know that.”

“Colson - ”

“But I realized that I can’t imagine my life without you. After that first hookup, I did mean it when I said it wouldn’t happen again. I was ready to let it all go, to let you go. But then I was home alone and I realized how empty my house feels without you. And I started thinking about how I can’t see my future without you being in it. I’m an idiot for not bringing it up, but I thought the hooking up was the only thing that would keep you around, and I was willing to do it until you wanted to stop. I know I’m too late and you have someone else, but I can’t - ”

“Jesus Christ, Colson, there isn’t anyone else!”

That was enough to finally shut him up. He stopped pacing, which he had started doing the second he had opened his mouth, and turned to face you. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to say something.

“What?” he finally asked.

You sighed. “I only said that so that you’d let me go. But I haven’t been seeing anyone. I’m not even on any dating apps. I just needed to end everything between us because I was gaining feelings again and I couldn't bare to continue our arrangement of meaningless hookups when I was still so in love with you.”

There was a moment of silence, and then a smile spread across Colson’s face. You couldn’t help but smile back, and then the two of you were laughing. The whole situation was so absurd. If one of you had just communicated what you wanted instead of just continuing to hook up, then you could’ve been back together long ago. But you know what they say about hindsight.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Colson said.

“Then do it.”

In two long strides, he closed the distance between you two and cupped your face in his hand. He pulled you to him and kissed you as if it was the first time he had ever done so. You leaned into him, holding on to his shirt for dear life. You weren’t sure you’d ever let him go honestly. You just wanted to stay there, holding each other, kissing each other.

“If I had a ring, I’d propose to you right now,” he murmured against your lips.

“If you did, I’d say yes,” you whispered back.

“I’ll take that as a pre-engagement agreement,” he said. “But I promise, I will get you a ring. I’ll do something so special to propose. I’ll give you dozens of babies if that’s what you want.”

“Oh God, that’s the last thing I want,” you laughed. “Give me one baby at least, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Maybe we could start practicing on that now.”

You leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Then take me to the bed.”

You shrieked as Colson lifted you in his arms and gleefully raced towards your bedroom.

[kindheart525]

Awhile back, I entertained the idea that Allan Red perhaps had a dysfunctional upbringing, one filled with messes and a lack of personal space that led him to be the extremely organized and independent critter we know and love today. At the time it was a vague concept, but I found it super intriguing and have decided to finally tackle it for myself. If you know any of my MLP work you know I love making family/backstory headcanons like this, so it was only a matter of time before I started doing it with the smiley guys.

The difficulty of Allan’s life started with the divorce of his parents. His father, Red Red (pronounced Ray-d Red), is much like who his son grows up to be: a financially stable critter who organizes his life in spreadsheets and keeps his home very clean. His favorite drink is water and he’s generally boring and unremarkable. Despite this, he is the most hated man in the city. As a lawyer, Red was tasked with defending a critter who was notorious for being charitable and friendly to the whole town…until a legal misstep got him the death penalty. It later came out that that guy was a serial killer (he was executed over a parking ticket) but the damage was done. When he divorced his wife, everyone sided against him in the custody battle, not over his parenting abilities but because of his “crime” of condemning a beloved icon. But also Red’s busy work schedule is not conducive to parenting and he’s generally not great with kids, treating them like mini adults more than anything. He could have fought harder than he did but his lack of emotion contrasted with his ex wife’s heartfelt pleas turned the favor towards her.

Red’s story is kind of silly lol but his ex wife’s is much less so. Despite getting primary custody of her son, Lucy became kind of a wreck after the divorce. She hopped from job to job despite her ex’s generous child support payments, but she was overall managing alright…until she met Kevin Costner (not to be confused with the actor). He was a gruff man but she saw a warm heart in him, especially since he had a son of his own to care for. But in reality, he’s an alcoholic who’s horrible with money and doesn’t pick up after himself. His son Topher is shaping up to be the same way but perhaps worse, as he seems to break things on purpose and scream constantly just for the hell of it. Allan had the misfortune of sharing a bedroom with him in their parents’ tiny house, and he couldn’t get any peace with him around. Topher stole his things and got up in his space and would not give him an inch to himself. Kevin (or “Bastard Kevin” as Allan calls him) disciplined Allan for standing up for himself much more harshly than he ever corrected his son. Lucy made excuses for the both of them and tried to make them bond as a family, but that wasn’t happening. Even when Allan caught her crying about how she’ll never be able to retire or have a clean house, she insisted, and still insists, that Kevin is the love of her life. She couldn’t be convinced to leave him. Nobody was ever hit but it was still a bad situation. Allan, who initially felt the sting of his father’s supposed “abandonment,” quickly put those feelings aside to focus on surviving each day in the Costner household.

To make matters worse—or better, depending on who you ask—Lucy ended up pregnant with Kevin’s baby. Cassadee (legally Casserole because Kevin was drunk filling out the birth certificate) is the apple of her mommy’s eye. Lucy was thrilled to finally have the daughter of her dreams, a girl to balance out the male energy in the house. But to Allan she was just another source of noise and messes, and he was unlucky to be tasked with much of her care since Kevin and Topher were useless and Lucy was barely holding it together. This time only solidified for Allan that he never wanted to be a father. In fact, he wanted to be as far away from children as possible. He wanted to live alone like his father, who he was finally starting to sympathize with.

Allan eventually struck out on his own. He worked his ass through college, financially supported by his father but trying hard to become completely self-reliant and finally pursue his dreams of becoming an engineer. Once he was an adult he did everything to stay out of Mother and Bastard Kevin’s house, not even joining them in quarantine when the pandemic hit. Now Allan is doing well, living each day with relief that he gets to go through life mostly on his own terms. Even the chaos of work usually rolls off of him because at least it’s not like what he grew up with, although he’s very particular about keeping everything in order and can get rather defensive in personal confrontations. Mother and the other Costners still ask him for money, but he doesn’t feel obligated to give them any because Bastard Kevin is guaranteed to drink or gamble it away. 

None of that is Allan’s responsibility anymore. He’s got his own life to live now.

[luveline]

Hello! I’m usually a silent reader but OMG the zombie au 😭😭 this series hits me right in the heart, but honestly everything you post is amazing!! You’re such a talented writer that your words create feelings, not just images, and they’re the most comforting, relatable, and heart wrenching all at once. No pressure, but I would love to see more of r’s recovery from her cuts! Maybe something happens when the survivors are moving that causes Steve to be extra worried? Thanks SO much either way!!

thank you so much 😭 I hope this is okay!! sry it took me ages. steve zombie au —steve looks after you again !!

You haven't been able to tell Steve why you're covered practically head to toe in little cuts beyond what you remember. Days now since the attack on The College, you vaguely remember an impact, which might explain your poor memory. Someone or something had hit you down, and when you woke it was in a pool of crushed glass, darkness like velvet enveloping the sky. 

"I don't know how you did it," he says, sitting between your legs, unperturbed by your state of undress. 

You're wearing a pair of mens boxers as shorts to grant him access to your sliced thighs without feeling naked. The worst stretches across your left thigh, stitched closed and weeping miserably. It's a horror —the cut isn't bad but the infection is, and if it doesn't get better, there's going to be a problem. 

"Desperate to get back to you," you say. You're not lying, but you say it like a joke. 

Steve laughs and rubs your one unscathed knee gently. 

"My poor love," he says under his breath, focusing on your stitches. He cleans around them with a damp strip of cloth poorly shorn. 

He moves up with a new strip to clean the top ones. You could do it yourself, but his fussing is nice. Relaxed against a pile of bed rolls, your arms crossed to avoid touching your stomach, which is also blanketed in cuts, you wince as Steve grows closer. 

"Can we take a break?" you ask. 

"Yeah." He puts down the bowl of linen strips and screws the lid back on the isopropyl. "Sorry, honey. I know it sucks. You've dealt with it all so well–" 

"Steve, you say this to me with a sprained knee." 

"It's not less true," he says, easing down with a boyish groan beside you. 

He turns to you as you turn to him, actual dirt on his cheek, stubbly and waxy in the dusk. You rub at the spot of dirt unhappily. He lets you touch him without complaint. 

"Sorry I'm a mess." 

"As long as you come back to me," he says. "I don't really care how much of a mess you are." 

"Don't, baby." You rub your face into his shoulder, feeling the muscle of his bicep under your palm. You don't want him to be nice to you like that, not while your skin is stinging like this and you're still feeling hopelessly terrified of the uncertain future again. 

"I gotta. I'm playing the romantic, doting love interest in our book." 

"What book?" 

"One I'm gonna write. Me and you and Robin at the end of the world," Steve says, dropping his head on yours. 

"Who's gonna read the book?" you ask quietly. 

"Everyone. When the world gets back on its feet again and the next generation wants to know what it was like, they'll have a great answer. Boy falls in love with girl destined to be constantly injured and reluctantly taken care of." 

"Ah, but I'm not reluctant," you say. 

"I can do your other leg?" 

"No," you whine. 

"That's reluctance." 

You sit together for a while. 

"You have to let me finish," he says firmly.

"I know… just. I love you," you say quietly. It's hard to explain it, but sitting with him as you are in the corner of a crowded room, it doesn't matter where you are, because you're with him. All these cuts and bruises don't mean a thing. 

"I love you, too." He wraps his arm around your shoulders. You wish you could see his face, but this is nice. 

"Do you ever worry we say it too much?" 

"No." He turns his face into the top of your head. "This is the right amount. But you can definitely tell me again, if you're worried." 

You thumb along a scabbed cut. "I love you. Thanks for taking care of me." 

"You're welcome. And you can make it up to me. I want a neck massage, you know, where you dig into my literal bones and–" he imitates a cracking sound. 

"I don't know why you like it so much." 

"Cos it's you doing it. Deal?" 

You sigh. Somehow, you feel as though you might have taken the short end of the stick. "Deal." 

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Hi!!!!

I was wondering for Trope Tuesday if you could write a brothers best friend with James Potter (If possible could she be best friend with Lily and the girls but don’t worry if not)

Love you and your writing xxx

thanks so so much!! for requesting and for being so sweet 🥲 i hope you like it!!

for my 250 Followers Writing Event!

Tropey Tuesday 🎭 trope: brother's best friend

pairing: James Potter x reader 

tags: angst, fluff, Lupin!reader, fem!reader, sibling fluff

word count: 3k (not me with the first thing I write after saying I might keep things a bit shorter)

“Hey, little Lupin,” Sirius says, grinning, as he plops down beside you on the common room couch. “You know we’re twins, right?” you respond, not even looking up from your book. “Yeah… but you’re shorter.” He seems overly satisfied with his justification, and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. 

“So. What are you reading?” he asks. 

This confuses you; you didn’t think Sirius was much of a reader. You look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed suspiciously, “You care?” “No, not really.” You roll your eyes at him though you’re not actually upset. “So why are you here, then, Black?” 

“I come at the behest of my darling best mate.” “And what does my darling brother want now?” 

“No, not Moony, Prongs.” Your stomach tenses at this. This just went from slightly irksome to anxiety-inducing interesting. 

“Well, ‘behest’ isn’t the right word exactly. He doesn’t know about this. But I know him, and he’s never going to make a move himself, so I see it as my best-mate-duty to give a helping hand.” Your mind is racing. “Make a move”?? Is there really a possibility of your crush liking you back? Is that what Sirius is telling you? That James likes you too??

You’re probably blushing and definitely confused, so you sit there awkwardly, hoping he’ll go on without your having to say anything yet. To your relief, he does. “I have it on insider information that our dear James Potter has himself a crush.” Godric, you never thought this would actually happen. After years of pining, of getting to know him… of thinking he only saw you as Remus’s sister.

“You’re best friends with Lily, right?” Relief turns to terror. Oh no, oh no, oh no, please no. 

“Um… yeah?” “You don’t sound too sure, sweets,” he laughs. “Yeah, I am.” You know, but pretend - especially to yourself - that you don’t, “Why does that matter?” 

“I want to get her and Prongs together of course! He’s been off lately, and he won’t tell me why. He always tells me everything. So, I reckon it has to be about a girl. And I’ve caught him looking over at you lot constantly recently. I saw him and Evans chatting yesterday, and there was definitely something there.” 

You’re on the verge of tears at this point.

“You alright, Y/N? You look like you’re going to be sick.” Sirius sounds genuinely concerned, and you don’t know how to escape with a convincing excuse given there’s no way in hell you’re going to tell him the truth, especially now he’s said what he has. 

“Um, no, not really. Sorry, I, uh, I think something I ate wasn’t quite right,” you stutter lamely, clumsily collecting your things, and running up the stairs to your dorm. After the night’s cruelty, it provides you a bit of sympathy: the room is empty. You curl up on your bed, clutching your pillow, and let the tears fall.

Why did it have to be Lily?? I mean, why did it have to be anyone at all if it couldn’t be you, but your best friend? You know how brilliant she is, how could you not, and you know how brilliant he is, and well, maybe they would be a good fit. If they make each other happy, that should make you happy; you want the best for Lily, truly. 

No amount of trying to convince yourself makes the thought of them together sting any less, though, and you succumb to wallowing in your disappointment and sadness. 

You’re still crying when you here a knock at the door.

“Y/N?? You in there? Open up, please. Sirius said you were ill?” If it were anyone else, you’d pretend not be there. But it’s Remus. You’ve never hidden from each other your whole lives; besides, you need him now even if you can’t tell him why. You wipe your face as best you can as you go to the door and open it. His eyes look frantically worried, and your heart melts a little bit. You might not have the romantic love you want so desperately, but at least you have this. Not many people know what it’s like to be as loved as you are. You try to cling to that feeling as you cling to Remus, crying into his jumper, but at the moment, it’s not enough consolation to assuage your aching heart.

“What’s wrong, Y/N/N? Did something happen? You’re really worrying me,” he says stroking your back. You shake your head. “Hey, can you talk to me? Please?”

You recover yourself a bit and go sit on your bed. Remus follows. 

“It’s nothing,” you say pathetically, wiping your eyes. “Uh huh,” he replies, unconvinced. “Really, Rem. Thanks, but it’s not a big deal. I’ll sort it, really.” 

“Can’t you just tell me what it is?” “I’d rather not.” “That’s new.” He sounds genuinely surprised. “I don’t like it,” he chuckles. “We couldn’t tell each other everything forever, could we?” you smile sadly at him. 

“And why not?” You laugh together, and you feel a tiny bit better.

The thing is, you want to tell him. And you would if it weren’t his bloody best friend. You know that no matter what he said, it would make things weird for him. You keep your secret more for him than for yourself really. 

“If I tell you part of it, do you promise to let me leave it at that?” 

“That’s going to be hard.” “Reeemm,” you whine at him. “Alright, alright.” “Well, it’s… it’s about a boy.” He grimaces, and you can’t help but giggle at it. Immediately, “Who?”

“That’s the part you don’t get to know.” “Oh, come on, Y/N, that’s just not fair.” “Please, Remus. It’s just going to make things harder, and weirder, and I want a chance to just move on on my own. Trust me, yeah?” “Fine,” he answers begrudgingly. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re so upset. If the lads and I have to plan a cruel prank on some undeserving wanker, then I have to know who it is.” 

You’re particularly amused at the idea of James being both pranker and prankee. 

“It’s nothing like that. He’s nice. That’s why I like him so much.” “Yuck.” You roll your eyes at this, and continue. 

“I just found out he likes someone else.” 

Remus’s expression is all understanding, perhaps too much so as the pitying look he gives you makes you feel worse instead of better. “It’s fine, really. That’s life; it happens; what can you do?” “Are we listing trite maxims then?” You roll your eyes again. “Just because 'that’s life' and 'it happens' and 'there’s not much you can do,'” he says with a mocky voice around your phrases, “doesn’t mean you won’t be upset. Or that that isn’t absolute shit.” He smiles sympathetically at you and wraps an arm around you. 

“Yeah,” you sniffle.

“Yeah,” he echoes. “Thanks, Rem. I kind of love you, you know?” You bump into him playfully. “I know. I’m great.” 

“Har har. Wanker.” 

“Hey!” he laughs. “It’s impressive, really, how quickly you can shift from adorable to an arsehole.” 

“Oh, whatever,” you push him off. 

He’s still chuckling when he asks you to come down to dinner with him. You take some convincing, but eventually, after your face looks a bit less cry-y, you walk down to the Great Hall. 

“Hello, lovely!” Lily calls from a few seats ahead. Remus gives you a little hug, squeezing a bit more than he normally would, and sits with his mates, between Sirius and James - annoying, gorgeous, stupid, magnetic James. You’re glad their backs are to you so they don’t notice you’ve been crying, and you hurry down to sit with Lily. 

She notices immediately. 

“What’s wrong, love? You alright?” She puts a consoling hand on your shoulder. “I’m fine, really. Just got a bit caught up in my feelings,” you say trying to end it there, laughing it off. 

“What feelings? You do know that as my best friend, you are contractually obligated to tell me all of these ‘feelings’?” She says “feelings” funny, and you’re glad to be sitting here laughing with her. Until you remember the cause of said feelings. 

“We can talk later,” you lie. You’ll figure out what to say later; you’re too exhausted now. “I just want to comfort eat now, if you don’t mind.” She still seems a bit worried but gives your shoulder a loving squeeze as she says, “‘Course,” and smiles sweetly. 

You’re finishing your dinner when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Your stomach sinks as you turn. There’s Remus… and Sirius… and the source of the tapping: James. 

“Hey, Lupin,” James says. “Evans,” he adds, nodding at Lily, and your stomach churns.

“Hi,” she says. You don’t say anything. You’re too busy picking at your fingernails, gaze down, trying to keep it together. You go to turn back around toward the table, but James’s hand on your shoulder stops you. “Hey, what’s up with you?” he asks jokingly, though it seems more than tinged in concern. 

“Nothing,” and a weak smile. “Are you feeling better?”

You feel your cheeks catch on fire. Remus wouldn’t tell his friends what you told him, right? You hadn’t told him not to, but you thought that was a given. “Yeah, little Lupin, you had me real worried there,” Sirius chimes in. Oh, right. Thank Godric. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for the scare.” You think that’s that, and go to turn again, but again, James gently stops you. 

“That’s good,” he says softly. You have to fight to not roll your eyes - why does he have to be so kind? and thoughtful… and caring… and pretty when he’s worried…

“Are you girls done? Want to walk back up together?” he asks. 

“Sure!” Lily answers enthusiastically before you have a chance to lie and say you aren’t finished. For a moment, it crosses your mind that maybe she does because she likes him too, and your misery returns in full force. 

You say nothing on the walk back up to the tower, and you want to go straight to your room when you get there, but Lily links arms with you and drags you to the sofa before you manage it. She’s sitting on the edge, leaning over chatting to Mary and Marlene on the next sofa, you in the middle, sulking. Remus is reading on the single chair, occasionally glancing up at you, the constant, loving worrier he is. Sirius and James are playing exploding snap just in front of you. You notice Remus’s glances, but you don’t notice James’s. 

As the game ends, Sirius claiming loudly he got cheated, James just laughs, shoves him, and comes to sit next to you. 

“What do you think, Lupin? Best exploding snap player you’ve ever seen, eh?” he jokes, his eyebrow rising. Ugh, he’s funny, too. 

“You could go pro if you wanted,” you play along, exaggeratedly impressed. 

“Oh, I’ve considered it, yeah. You know, if quidditch doesn’t work out.” “You have a better chance at exploding snap,” you tease. “Ouch!” he laughs. “You say nothing all night, and when you do, I get this cruel treatment?” 

You’re surprised he noticed and don’t know what to say. “Seriously, though,” he’s speaking much more softly now. “You okay?” He pauses, biting his bottom lip as if considering something, before continuing, “You seem sad. I know you told Sirius you were sick, but I don’t think that’s true.” 

You panic at the tenderness, at his observant attentiveness, and opt for comedic relief. “You calling me a liar, Potter?” 

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at you, but keeps on. “No, of course not. I’m just saying that, well, you can talk to me. If you ever need to… or just want to, I guess… I mean, just because I’m your brother’s best mate doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?” 

Friends. Ouch. You want to cry all over again, the proximity and kindness conflicting too much with the idea that he just wants to be friends, or worse, be friendlier with you just to spend more time with Lily too. 

“We are friends,” you reply. “Yeah? Great,” he smiles. Your heart aches.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“So you’re okay?” he whispers too. “I’m okay,” you lie. 

“C’mon, Prongs! I need my rematch!” Sirius pulls him off the couch, demanding another game. 

The next few days go by gloomily but normally, and before you know it, it’s the weekend. And not just any weekend, a Hogsmeade one. You, your brother, and all your friends are strolling down the lovely, snow-covered lanes. Usually, you’d be especially happy now. You loved Hogsmeade, especially in the cold snowy months, but you still hadn’t been completely yourself since your emotional let down. 

You’re walking next to Remus, James animatedly talking to him on his other side. You feel invisible. Despite James’s kind words the other night, you can’t help but feel like your brother might as well be an invisibility cloak when you stand next to him. It’s like James just sees Remus; his sister is an afterthought.

You love Hogsmeade trips with your friends, but in your current emotional state, you’d rather be alone, so you subtly break off from the group and go into the nearest shop. It’s filled with magical toys and trinkets, and looking around helps cheer you up a bit. You’re browsing when you see a quidditch-themed exploding snap deck. You roll your eyes at the sky, giving the universe snark for not giving you a moment of peace of mind. Then you grab the deck and head over to the counter.

You’re walking slowly down the street, peering through shop windows, enjoying the cool breeze, when you hear your name called out. You turn to see James jogging toward you. “Where’d you go?” he asks friendly, falling into step with you, his shoulder bumping yours.

“Oh, just wandered off.” “Yeah, I noticed,” he laughs. “I didn’t realize my story was so boring.” 

“Oh, I, no, it wasn’t, I was just, you know,” you mutter, mortified. “I’m kidding, Lupin, relax,” he smiles. 

You smile back though you’re sure you’re blushing. You can blame the cold. 

“That freaks me out a bit,” he says. “What does?” “You and Remus have the exact same smile.” You’ve heard this before. “So it freaks me out that I think yours is so beautiful.” You’ve not heard this before.

You laugh lamely and offer up a weak but heartfelt “thanks.” He just nods. 

Your hands are cold, so you bury them in your pockets, and you’re met with your recent purchase. “Oh,” you start. “I have something for you.” 

“You do?” he sounds unreasonably surprised. “Yeah, just a little thing. Don’t get too excited,” you deflate. You pull the deck out and hand it to him. “This way you still get to think about quidditch while practicing for a more promising career path,” you joke. He doesn’t laugh, though. He looks awed. You don’t know what else to say and are starting to worry you did something awkward. 

He’s looking at the deck in his hand rather than at you when he says, “I really like you.”

You pause. You try to read his expression but struggle with his gaze down like this. “I really like you too,” you respond lightly. He looks up. Standing still, looking at you, he asks, “As your brother’s best friend? Like another brother?” he looks hurt at the word “brother.”

“No.” Honest, without revealing too much. “No?” He steps closer to you. “So if I were to tell you that I really want to kiss you right now…” His empty hand comes up to your cheek, caressing you softly. You smile brighter than you have in several days, much longer probably. He beams back at you in response and closes the gap between you. 

You pull back, and his eyes widen, but when you complain, “You lot already went to the Three Broomsticks? Don’t deny it - you taste like butter beer! We always do that last - I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me!” he laughs a deep laugh, wraps his arm around you, and pulls you close, kissing you harder this time. 

“I’ll buy you two to make up for it,” he says between kisses. He deepens the kiss, gently pushing his tongue against yours. You like the taste of butter beer; you love the taste of James Potter. 

“Bloody hell!” you hear from nearby. Sirius looks like his face can’t make up its mind between surprise, excitement, and confusion. “It was Lupin?! I thought it was Evans!” “You thought what was Evans?” James asks, looking perplexed, his arms still around you. “I thought you fancied Evans!” 

“Why?” The complete confusion and utter sincerity lift a huge weight from you, and you giggle. 

“Dunno, actually. Because I’m a bit of an idiot sometimes, it seems,” Sirius shrugs, seemingly already moving on from the situation. Which is more than could be said of Remus, who is standing stiff with his face blank staring at you. 

“It was James?” he asks, looking slightly disgusted. 

“You didn’t think it was Evans, too, did you?” You joke. 

Lily chimes in from beside Remus, “We would make a really good couple, Y/N.”

“Oi, Evans!” James scolds. “I’m not going to say you wouldn’t because you obviously would, but I’m trying my chances here, thank you very much.” Everyone but Remus bursts into laughter. 

“You might want to look away, Rem,” you say. “I don’t want to upset you, but I’m about to kiss your best friend again.” 

Remus groans and walks away, but you’re already too busy to notice.

[authorred]

Miguel O’Hara bondage headcanons because I’m a degenerate | Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

Masterlist

Preface: Trying to get Miguel to relax and allow someone else to take control of the reigns is no easy feat. What happens when he finally does after a while of suspicion and hesitation?

I’ve never watched Across the Spiderverse :)

This will definitely be NSFW (18+) so minors DNI (do not interact). Unless you do, which in that case I refuse to be held responsible for the content you consume.

Warning(s): NSFW

Bondage with Miguel being the rigger is one thing, but bondage with Miguel being the rope bunny is an entirely different experience

It takes a long time to get Miguel to even think about it

It’s not so much a kink/fetish thing as it is a trust thing

Being tied up/restrained is not an easy thing to let someone do to you

Miguel is so used to being in control of quite literally everything that the thought of someone else trying to take over makes him extremely uncomfortable and uneasy

No one will do it better than him and/or do it correctly like he would

Miguel has no issue being the rigger because he knows what to do and he’s used to being the one in control

You need to start slow. That is imperative

Handcuffs might not work because he could just snap them

Silk rope. And lots of it.

If you’re going to bind him, you have to bind all of him

Just doing his arms will make him feel uneasy and unsecure 

Tell him exactly what you’re doing when you’re doing it and before you do it

If you’re going to wrap the rope around his shoulders, tell him

If you’re going to wrap it around his torso or his wrists, tell him

Never stop communicating

Assure him constantly

I don’t mean baby talk or praises

Tell him he’s safe

Tell him it’s okay to be and feel vulnerable, and that it’s okay to let someone else take control temporarily

You need to know what you’re doing

If you’re a baby rigger who’s never tied a knot before or are looking at google instructions whilst doing it, forget it

He needs to know you’re competent. He needs that assurance

When you’re done with the binds, just sit there with him. Show him nothing bad will happen if he relaxes for a little

He’ll pull at the binds and start getting frustrated at the lack of movement

Gently touch him or talk to him to get him distracted

He’ll be tense and semi-stressed

Gently run your hands over the parts of him he likes best

Get him to stare into your eyes

He will be vulnerable and he knows it--show him you are a safespace

Eventually when he does relax and calm down, untie him

Tell him it was a good first session

When he inevitably goes, ‘. . . first session?’ say it’d be overwhelming to do anything on his first try

He might still be hesitant, but considerably less than before

The second session he’d be a bit more relaxed and you won’t have to assure him as much. He might even smile

Repeat what you did the first time: Just sit there and be his safespace

Eventually his body will slack against the ropes, and that’s when you can slowly transition to sexual activities

When you tell him you want to try ‘x’ with him whilst he’s tied up, he won’t outright shirk away, but he won’t be over the moon either

Start slow, again

Touch him gently and softly--always let him know where it is you’re going to touch, either verbally or by obvious gestures

He won’t make much noise at first

His muscles will pull and tense at the binds, but he won’t protest the sting and constriction

In a way, the binds force him to relax

When you reach a point where you both can comfortably engage in sexual acts when he’s bound, it’s like a religious experience (the good kind)

Always warm him up with either head or a handjob. Don’t make him cum though

Get him to a point of desperation and need--be gentle about it though

Always assume being gentle unless he specifies otherwise

He might accidentally snap a rope or two

It’s fine he’ll pay for more

You might have to get tied up and fucked in return tbh, depends on your dynamic

[blacklegsanjiii]

Do I love Reiju a whole lot? Yes. Do I also love to gave Sanji even more trauma? YES!

So here am I, with a new universe: Evil!Reiju au!

Reiju is still born with emotions, but there two things: 1) she has so little emotions that they're almost nonexistent 2) the little feelings and personality she has are from Judge.

So yeah, instaed of a caring and kind old sister Reiju who feels so much, we have a Reiju who is cruel and manipulative and pretends to care about Sanji. She treats Sanji like he is nothing more than a toy who she can simply play with it's feelings, and not like it's her damn little brother.

But she puts on an act. Reiju uses (fake) sweet words and (fake) gentle touches to make the blonde trust her. Subtly hurting him when she's bored.

Then the dunsheon, where her mask finally falls. Of course, completely breaking what was left of Sanji's heart. During the next two years, even if she doesn't beat him, her cruel words hurt just as much.

After Sanji runs away, he doesn't trust no one. It's just on the rock, 2 years after, that he starts to trust this man who was unrealistic kind. They're rescued from the rock and Zeff starts to treat him like an actual father would treat a son. This always makes Sanji's heart warm and give him the need to cry a little because for the first time since his mother died someone truly loves him.

Sanji is still gentle with women, but not much like canon. He would fight one if needed and, actually, he's kinda afraid of them deep down and a little uncomfortable, too. Zeff don't know the whole thing but he knows his eggplant have been through a traumatic thing and he can't and wouldn't never blame him, he would be a shame of a father and an idiot if he did.

Then Sanji joins the StrawHats because, curiously, something inside his stitched heart tells him he should. And Sanji follows his heart.

Things go pretty much like canon. With some differences, like: East Blue Polycule happens, Sanji is always suspicious of everyone (all the crew notices this, so at least one of them always is with him when the ship stops at some island and less gentle over women.

Then the TimeSkip, where WCI happens. Reiju still puts the fake cuffs but this time with the intentions of messing with her brother's mind. She makes little threats about exploding his hands and/or poisoning, and it's until they're almost leaving Whole Cake and she tells the cuffs are fake.

Also I need 0 & 3ji to have a argument who is like "You're too emotional, Sanji" "Maybe I am, but you never about me at all, Reiju" "Why would I care about a worthless failure?" "... I thought you cared about me, you always acted like you did before the thing" at the end of the arc. With the Sanji rescue team watching and looking at Reiju with anger.

They go at Wano and everything happens. Then after the fight Luffy, Brook, Chopper and Nami ask about the argument and Sanji tells to the whole crew, because the other also want to know. He tells them about his childhood, how Reiju pretended to care for him. The dunsheon and how cruel she actually was.

All the StrawHats think that Reiju is nothing more than a cruel people.

Okay, I love this, but I think it would forever fuck with Sanji and women moreso than you think? And like his whole relationship with Nami is probably so fucking skewed? Jesus. She's needlessly cruel and just manipulates the shit out of Sanji constantly. He would be bending over backwards to get any smidge of affection from her until his escape but is so terrified of just disappointing her that it is just negatively impacts his expression towards women so much that Sanji inevitably just is so scared of them and so his immediate reaction is to fawn.

Reiju notices it's more fun to her to toy with Sanji like a doll when she's young and Judge encourages it since it's just to the failure. It's not like anything wrong will happen. She's subtle about the way she hurts, sharp words and back handed compliments to that ache and sting the blond's heart when he's just a child, turning to outright malicious intent when she finds Sanji in the dungeon because he's supposed to be dead and the words. Sanji tries to be good so she can get him out but she just tells him this is where failures belong if not in the ground. She doesn't understand how their mother loved such a failure because it's impossible. Still, when she visits, he tries. He tries until he manages to escape and run away, helmet weighing heavily on him. But he's freed from Germa and the helmet and he starts working and keeps to himself. He doesn't trust anyone and doesn't believe himself worthy of Zeff's sacrifice. He doesn't understand why someone would sacrifice so much for a failure like him.

When it comes to fighting women Sanji would really prefer not to. They talk sweet and it sends him spiraling more of than not. Zeff is actually concerned about how Sanji's reaction to women slapping him. Sanji will fight back after a few hits but his preference for not fighting women is huge and he's more trying to calm them down and please them than argue or fight back. He looks afraid more often than not and when women do compliment him he doesn't believe them, not that he believes a lot of people at first but with the men he believes eventually, but he never believes the women who compliment his food. It's like he's afraid of women. He fawns for over them but flinches away from them, no matter what the crew does to make him more confident with women there's just something lying underneath the surface and they don't know what.

When Sanji joins the Strawhat crew and after Arlong Park, Nami notices he's wary around her and starts taking it personally until she notices it's just every woman he's like that with. Vivi, the vendors, every woman. Her and the other boys are already dating at this point and they're debating on the best way to approach the subject. Sanji doesn't seem like he'll be that receptive to a conversation about it, he noticeably tenses when Vivi calls out to them before relaxing and then flinches when Robin makes her presence known. But she acts differently towards Sanji, she offers small smiles and plain words, not praise though nor does she demand anything from him. Robin eases Sanji's tension with women, it looks so easy for them to be around each other but she moves slow and announces her presence in a quiet tone. When they ask Robin about it she only smiles in answer and walks away. Sanji starts dating the rest of the East Blue crew after Ennies Lobby, he's calmer and the crew protective, at least one person is always with him it seems. He tries not to flinch when Nami moves to fast towards him and apologizes when he does. But he does that for everyone, but his partners especially. There's just something they can't quite place what happened.

Until after the timeskip and WCI happens. When the rescue team meets Reiju and Yonji they wish them luck in saving the failure, Reiju has a sickly sweet smile that's all saccharine and she and Yonji laugh about how it's unlikely Sanji will be alive as they leave and the crew is confused and scared. Like it's some sort of joke, Sanji's life is a joke. Of course Reiju is also watching her brothers beat the failure up and not helping, she jokes about poisoning him and threatens to take him away so the cuffs will explode his hands, says she'll say she found him running. Sanji can just feel everything like he's a child all over again, the pain, the words, the hurt of his family not loving him over and over again almost as bad as it was. Then he hears Pudding and Reiju talk about killing him and they're laughing at him and Sanji gives up, goes to find his captain who he beat the shit out of and is just....crying and sobbing. Nami and Luffy are concerned about what's going on but they'll deal with everything after they save Sanji, when they reunite with the other two. Sanji still insists on saving them and Luffy and Nami don't like it but do as he wishes. During the escape Sanji is worried about his hands when Reiju points out he was a fun toy but the cuffs are fake, they won't take his hands. It was just more fun to make him think they would.

"Maybe if you weren't so emotional it wouldn't be so fun." Reiju smiles at him.

"So what if I am? You all never cared about me at all!" Sanji yells back with a broken voice.

"I don't know why anyone would, you're just a failure. Loving you seems exceptionally difficult, but what would I know?" Reiju laughs.

"You did when we were kids. Until-"

"No, I didn't." Reiju cuts him off. "You're a toy, Sanji. Nothing more, but all the less." Reiju waves off as she leaves and everyone is appalled at what was said. Nami and Luffy are holding Sanji is trying to be brave for them. When they make it to Wano Luffy runs and finds their partners and starts telling them about Reiju and Judge and how awful they were to Sanji and Usopp points out that it explains a lot about Sanji. Zoro is seething and says he should have been there, because he and Usopp are hearing only what Luffy and Nami heard not anything from Sanji. Sanji seems to be trying to avoid the topic of conversation for the most part and they can't exactly stick together in Wano so that makes it ten times worse for Zoro who can't exactly get information from the cook until after he wakes up from the raid. The cook is buried in a cuddle puddle and Usopp is telling his wild stories to try to ease the tension as he combs through Sanji's hair and Zoro is growling about going to kill his birth family.

[weissmotherfuckerschnee]

Alright boys and girls, it's once again time for my brain farts! This one has been cooking in my brain for a while.

So it's basically an ice queendom AU, but instead of Weiss it's Ruby who is aflicted by the noghtmare. And instead of it Happening in their first year, it happens in their 4th year.

Ruby and Weiss have bern dating for a while at this point and it can happen that the students in their grade have to go on Solo missions from time to time. Especialy Ruby is send by Ozpin on missions that could take up to a month.

So after one of these long missions, on which the nightmare chose her as a host, she returns a bit earlier than schedules. Wanting to surprise Weiss she decides by to swing by their favorite Café to get Weiss's favorite treats.

But what she didn't expected to see on the way there was Weiss in a bakery with Neptune.

Which in itself wouldn't have bothered her if it wouldn't have been for them standing so close to each other, and when she wanted to walk in Neptune leaned in to kiss Weiss!

Was Weiss cheating on her? Had she been playing with Ruby all along? Did she ever love her the way she claimed to do?

Not wanting to see what happens next, she turned away, and used her semblence to get away from them.

Hurt, by what she just witnessed, it felt lime her heart had been ripped out and trampled on. She didn't want anyone to see her like this so she decided to go into the forest near the school, where she could cry until she couldn't anymore.

In all her misery she didn't notice this stinging feeling in her neck...

She only returned hours later when the sun had already gone down to the dorm, acting like her usual cheerful self infront of her teammates and friends. Though even thought she greeted Weiss with a loving hug, she noticeably was less affectionate than usual.

The emotional hurt, the doubts on Weiss's feelings and especially the memories of what she accidentally witnessed eating her alive.

Combined with the stress of being a leader, the knowledge that she was the last Silver eyed worrior, the burdens Ozpin put on her shoulders with the kind of missions he send Ruby on and all the negative emotions she bottlwd up over the years, locking them away in her heart and mind, the nightmare had a true feast!

It would take 2 more days until the edfect of the nightmare took place, and the WBY of team RWBY would awaken with their leader in a comatose condition, covered by black streaks spreading from the back of her neck.

On the other hand while Ruby had been gone for almost a month, Weiss had made up her mind to propose to the love of her life.

They were only 3 months away from graduating and beeing full fledged huntresses. Their dreams would finally come true and they could go out in to the world and help make it a better place. She'd finally be able to brin honor back to the Schnee name before she inherates the company.

But Weiss is mire than aware that their line of profession is dangerous. And she would love nothing more than being able to call her Rose her Wife. They have been dating for about 3 years now, and she was more than sure, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Ruby as well.

So that's why she recruited Neptune for help. He was one of her closest friends and was experienced in the romance Departement, where she often struggled. Especially when she wanted to make a big romantic gesture, wanting everything to be perfect for her proposal, she would take all the help she could get.

Of course she could have asked Blake or Yang, but she didn't want one of them to ruin the surprise by accidentslly spilling the beans in front of Ruby. Also she could live without the teasing from them.

So that's why after pucking up the Engagement ring (which took forever to choose, since everything had to be perfect) Neptune asked if she wanted to swing by a popular bakery for cake and coffee to calm her nerves a bit.

What she didn't expect when she asked him to acompany was for him constantly getting in her personal space, or him teying to hold her hand, and what she definitively would have never expected was for him suddenly trying to kiss her!

It took her a moment to realize what he was about to do, and pushed him away in the last second and gave him a slap. Nobody except Ruby was allowed to kiss her!

So shocked by what ahppened she didn't notice the rospetals drifting away from the bakery...

Allright, this is part 1 of this one. Maybe I'll post lazer part 2. And I am calling the one Rose -queendom. Creative I know