#i feel like i can finally see a future ahead when before i never could

[furuba]

living by the quote "the time will pass anyway" has done wonders for my motivation fr

[runningthroughthegarden]

dumb young love

1.9k words, summary: when art leaves you in the dust for tashi, a part of you breaks. after an argument art realizes how desperately in love he is with you.

request from @fangirlinc :)

you had gone and done the one thing everyone had warned you not to do. you had fallen in love with your best friend. i mean how could you not? he was handsome, charming, talented, funny, everything you could want in a man and more. you both had such bright futures ahead of you and just loved being in each others company. which is why you never felt the need to profess your love to him. but lately you've been rethinking this choice. 

you obviously knew how close art and patrick were, i mean you guys all practically grew up with each other. this dynamic never really bothered you, why would it? that all changed once tashi came into the picture. 

you had been there, at the match where it all started. you had come to support them like you always had, but within those few days something had shifted and you had no idea why. suddenly the boys were ditching you to go to a party you didn't even know they cared about. 

they had come back to you the next day, raving about how amazing tashi was and the night they spent together. you noticed a glint in art’s eye that wasn't there before, and you tried your hardest to suppress the jealousy you were feeling. 

that day, when patrick won the match, you couldn't help but feel relieved that art would remain yours just for a little longer. what you didn't realize is that art didnt care if patrick was with tashi, because he was still head over heels for her.

 

“hey are we gonna have dinner tonight?” you ask, throwing another tennis ball over the net.

“yeah, just gotta get back to my room and shower” art replies, hitting back the ball with a distraught look on his face. 

“is it tashi?” you sigh.

“what? no-no. i'm just stressed about my next match” he replies, walking over to the bench. 

“you're art donaldson. you’re never stressed about a match. c'mon just tell me” you say as you walk over to him. 

“its just. patrick called and all he can fucking talk about is how amazing tashi is. and then i walk around campus and all i hear is how amazing tashi is. no matter what i do i can’t escape her.” he confesses, putting his head in his hands.

“i can’t imagine you ever wanting to escape her” you reply, letting out a forced laugh. 

“what?” 

“cmon art, from the day you lost that match it’s like your entire world changed or something. i mean all of a sudden your whole life revolves around this girl” you scoff. 

“y/n i really don’t need this shit from you, i’ll see you later” he scoffs, picking up his bag and leaving the court. 

“art!” you call out, only for him to leave you there alone.

standing there you think back to when everything was fine. how art would link his pinky with yours as you walked. the way he would call you everyday when he had to travel for matches. the nights you spent in his dorm trying to cram week's worth of studying into one night. the way he would so effortlessly plant kisses to your forehead. the moments you thought he might actually be in love with you. but now all you had were those memories. 

 

before you knew it, all art was doing was hanging out and helping tashi train. he had been your training partner first, so it hurt like hell to be left in the dust. you decided to try and let it go and focus on winning your matches. your most important match was coming up and you couldn't let your silly love life get in the way. the one person you had always dreamed of being coached by was going to be at your match. so you knew you had to train like crazy to get to work with them. 

a part of you was hoping maybe art would see how amazing your match would be, and finally start paying attention to you again. but you knew you were holding onto false hope. 

 

the day of your match had finally come, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. this was such an important moment for your career and you couldn't shake those nerves. but you knew seeing art up in the stands would give you the boost of confidence you needed. 

the first set was about to start and you still didn’t see art in the stands. you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought that he might not show up. he would never do that to you. right? 

the first set had started and for a moment, the world around you started to fade. you may have hated tashi, but man was she right about tennis. you were performing flawlessly and you knew all the hard work was finally going to pay off. 

after winning your first set, you go back to your seat, taking a breather and still scanning the crowd for art. he was still nowhere to be found and you could feel your sadness turning into anger. deciding to use that as fuel, you prepare yourself for your next set. the rest of the game goes flawlessly and you know this is the best you have ever played. 

hitting the winning point, you stand in shock as cheers come from the stands. thanking your opponent you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face. that is until you spot art in the stands. you could feel all the anger and resentment you suppressed fighting to be released. this had been your best game yet, and there art was, to ruin it.

packing up your bag, you felt a presence behind you. all spectators and coaches were long gone so you knew exactly who was behind you. turning around to face art, you push past him not wanting to hear a word he has to say. 

“y/n please i-” art calls out, quickly catching up with you.

“you what art?!” you yell, turning around to face him.

“you forgot? you had homework? you lost track of time? oh better yet, maybe you were with tashi?” you continue, looking up at him. you could feel hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

he stays silent and thats all the answer you need. 

“oh my god you were” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“please just let me explain” art pleads, a look of desperation you’d never seen before. 

“today was the most important day to me. and i really thought that as my best friend you would at least care a little more. but i know where your priorities lay. and i'm done fighting for a spot i’ll never get” you say as tears quickly spill onto your cheeks. 

art’s hand reaches up to brush away your tears, but you step back. 

“stay the fuck away from me art” you choke out, quickly walking back to your room. 

 

the next few days were hell. spending each day crying in your bed, you had lost not only the love of your life but your best friend. you had gotten a call offering to be coached by someone you could only ever dream of working with. you should’ve felt happy, ecstatic even, but the last conversation you had with art was still ringing through your head. he had called you far too many times and texted you even more. but you had ignored every single one. the first day he came knocking on your door, but gave up after an hour of waiting. the apology flowers he had sent you sat on your desk. you had no idea what you were going to do. until, you got a text from patrick. 

patrick 

hi love, art told me about what happened im sorry. 

y/n

hi, you don’t have to apologize for him being stupid

patrick

do you want to hang out today? try to get your mind off of him

y/n 

actually i would love to

patrick 

meet me outside at 2

getting ready to see patrick was a highlight from these past few days. while you were enjoying your sulking you knew you had to get out at some point. going out to the courtyard, you see patrick sitting on a picnic blanket. your favorite foods and snacks were neatly laid next to him. you felt yourself genuinely smiling for the first time in a really long time. you spent the next hour eating your favorite meal and laughing at stupid shit with patrick. although your heart still hurt, you could feel your spirits rising. 

“thank you for this patrick, it’s all so lovely” you smile. 

“of course i’ll always be here for you” he gleams, pushing away the hair around your face and leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“what the fuck?!” 

you would recognize that voice anywhere. 

“art what are you doing here?” patrick stands up to face him. 

“oh i dont know maybe i go to school here? what the fuck are you doing here patrick?!” he replies, getting closer to patrick. 

“seriously y/n? you run off to patrick?” he questions, obviously distraught but you can't seem to place why. 

“hey you don’t get to blame her for this” patrick replies. 

“oh fuck off patrick would you let her speak” 

grabbing arts hand, you quickly lead him away from the public spectacle this was all becoming. 

“what the hell is wrong with you art?” you yell, shutting your room door. 

“i mean, you completely forgot about me for some other girl and now you're mad at me? none of this makes sense, you broke my heart. you don't get to be angry.” you continue, feeling tears brim your eyes. 

he paces for a second, running his hands through the curls you missed so much. 

“im in love with you” he stops, looking down at you. 

it felt like you were dreaming, like you were imagining the words that just came out of his mouth. 

“i always have been. i've just been so stupid about it. when tashi came around i threw myself at her because i thought there was no way you would ever feel that way towards me. and i know i fucked up by doing that, i really really fucked up. but when i picture my life i see you, i've only ever seen you. and seeing you with patrick, i was scared i lost you. i'm sorry y/n, i really am. i would do anything to take it back.” he confesses. 

“you’re so stupid!” you yell, pushing his shoulders. 

“ive been in love with you for like, forever!” you look up at him, confused as to how he never realized. 

“really?” he asks, pure shock all over his face. 

“yes! i thought it was obvious” you frown. 

before you knew it he was holding your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips. in that moment everything felt right, like the stars had aligned. 

“y’know i'm still mad at you” you look up at him, placing your hands over his. 

“trust me, i will do everything to make it up to you. i'm just glad you're finally mine” he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face as he kissed you again. 

[kingtomura]

Good Girl

Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off. 

Bad idea. 

Word count: 4k

part two is here!

Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry

You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon. 

“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”

“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”

Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins. 

There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way. 

“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating. 

He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse.  “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.” 

This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.

And Tomura was going to be upset.

In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in. 

He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.

You text him.

You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.

There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off. 

And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window. 

A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts. 

You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick. 

Tap. 

There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination. 

Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.

Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work. 

You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here. 

You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you. 

Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.

“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear. 

“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki. 

He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”

You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”

“He can't do that.”

You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse.  “I don't want it to be this way.”

“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”

Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.

Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up. 

You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment. 

You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist. 

Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn–  the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.

“Get on the bed.” 

And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver. 

“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?”

You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again. 

He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away. 

The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room. 

“Be quiet for me, yeah?” 

Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”

The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you. 

This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and  sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over– 

Knock knock.

“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.” 

It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference. 

Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both. 

“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”

At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit. 

If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”

You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet. 

“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.” 

His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave. 

“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.” 

It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”

Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you. 

He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm. 

Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” 

Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip. 

“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it. 

His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you.  You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.

Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets. 

The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy. 

“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.” 

You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”

“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.” 

There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”

You are so fucked.

[milswrites]

I'll Crawl Home to You

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: After barely escaping his last mission, Azriel realizes he has one regret in life. Not telling you about the undying love which he held for you. His brush with death allowing him to realize that he can't live another day without you by his side, Azriel wastes no time in telling you exactly how he feels.

Warnings: Angst. Talks of death and injuries. Nice cute ending though :)

Azriel had always assumed that when the time came for death to greet him, he would welcome them like an old friend.

Gladly taking the specter's hand and allowing them to guide him to the afterlife, satisfied with the centuries of a blessed life he had been gifted by the Mother.

Azriel had never feared death. Instead he imagined that when the sweet embrace of darkness finally surrounded him, he would be able to rest at last. A mercy that he could finally be at peace, no worries crossing his mind as he knew that one day his brothers would also join him in whatever afterlife he was sent to.

Which is why he couldn't understand why he was panicking now as death's black cloak began to wrap around him. Rather than the warming comfort he had always imagined it would hold, the incoming blackness felt bitterly cold. Like his body had begun to freeze over like a lake in winter, the last dregs of his life being sucked from him.

Azriel found himself fighting back. His weak hand outstretched as he attempted to push away the approaching claws of death which were slowly advancing. Teeth grit together with effort as he tried to ward them off.

"No" the desperation in his hoarse voice was palpable, words catching in his throat as he flinched away from the foreboding figure of darkness. A painful spasm tearing through his body, originating from the wound on his chest where an unwelcome dagger had found its home.

"No i'm not ready yet please. Please don't take me . . . No please!"

His speech was slurred, vision dotted with masses of growing black spots. Yet Azriel didn't allow his hold on reality to slip for a single second. Not if it meant dying.

Not if it meant never seeing you again.

And so he resisted death's sweet siren song, too stubborn to allow himself to give in.

"I will not die today."

Azriel hissed the words through his pain. His fierce amber eyes meeting the cool sharp gaze of death's.

A gaze so intense that Azriel was sure it was enough to drive anyone to insanity. The well of darkness which swirled in death's icy orbs was never-ending. Azriel allowed himself to swim in them deeper and deeper, searching for a way to escape from their clutches. Following the glistening golden rope which shimmered enticingly, as though begging Azriel to take hold of it, promising that life would be at the other end of it.

It was agony. Sharp spikes of pain coursing through him as his limbs grew heaver and heavier the deeper he dived, skin beginning to burn and blister as a feverish sweat settled on his uncomfortable skin.

But Azriel didn't let up. Never lessening his grip on the golden rope. Allowing his memory of you to give him strength in the face of his adversity.

He never let go. Not even when death itself began to fight back.

Terrible visions of the horrors of his past appeared before him as he swam. Bubbles which contained the callous faces of his half-brothers floated by his face. Sinister smiles upon their lips as they stared at Azriel, deaths alluring voice slipping from their lips, "Come now Azriel, don't fight it. The rope leads to nothing. Let go. Close your eyes, I've got you. You can rest now."

Yet Azriel didn't look to the floating forms of his cruel brothers. He kept his stern gaze ahead, chasing after the end of the rope. Chasing after you.

It was almost as if you were there. If he squinted hard enough he could see your ethereal form at the end of the tunnel, a gentle hand held out for him to take.

It wasn't death. He knew that much. Your glowing figure radiated life, the promise of a future.

There at the end of the golden rope was you. Patiently waiting for him to greet you so you could return him to the land of the living. You were his salvation. You had come for him.

He allowed himself to become deaf to the enticing whispers of death. Continuing his pursuit forwards, towards you, leaving the dark memories of his past behind as he turned his full attention to swimming towards his future.

His scarred hand reaching out towards yours, the tips of his fingers brushing against your soft palm as he connected your hands. Entwining your fingers as he used the warmth you radiated as an anchor.

And then instead of darkness, there was only light.

~~~~~

Soft whispers stirred Azriel from his slumber. Through his closed eyelids, Azriel could see the sweet familiar orange glow of sunlight. The heat of which warmed his skin, energy flowing through his body as though the sun was replenishing his source. Enabling him to slowly flutter his eyes open, sight focusing on the blurred figure in the chair next to him.

Azriel rushed to sit up, Cassian's steady hands shooting out to stop his erratic movement, hushing the shadowsinger as he helped to rest him up against the pillows on the bed.

"Careful," Cassian grinned, pleased to see his brother awake, yet his smile did nothing to hide the concern which failed to leave his eyes, "you had us all worried for a moment there Az. We thought-" Cassian's voice broke as he swallowed back a cry, ". . . We thought we'd lot you."

"How did I get. . .? Y/N. She found me!"

Azriel struggled to put together the pieces of what happened after he was stabbed.

There was darkness, an impending sense of doom, and then a sudden burst of light. But there, somewhere in between his jumbled memories, Azriel had seen you. He was sure of it.

"Y/N?" Cassian questioned, brows furrowing in confusion as his concerned gaze swelled deeper, "They weren't there Az. You travelled here with your shadows. Gave me a fright, you appeared right in front of me covered in blood and barely breathing."

"No. . ." Azriel murmured, that couldn't have been right. He saw you. He was sure of it.

"They came to visit you a few times once Madja had you stable. Maybe you're thinking of that?" Cassian reasoned, trying to reassure himself more than Azriel, preying to the cauldron that his brother hadn't gone senile.

"Yeah" Azriel lied, flashing his brother a crooked smile to soothe his worries, "Yeah you're probably right."

No amount of convincing from his brother would allow Azriel to believe anything else other than the fact that you were there to save his life. To bring him home.

But if Cassian was somehow right . . . If you really hadn't been there. Then that meant Azriel had dreamt about you. This wasn't a new occurrence, there were many nights where Azriel welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep so only to see your smiling face in his dreams. Yet his mind, in what could have been his final moments alive, thought only of you.

Of your beauty and grace. Of your welcoming nature and the sense that in finding you, Azriel was home, even when death had came to claim his soul in the wilderness of Illyria.

He liked that. The knowledge that his home wasn't a place, but a person. That wherever he was, he need only to think of you and he can allow himself to be happy.

Though despite this realization, Azriel found that he couldn't be happy. Not when he had felt this strongly about you for years and had just almost died without confessing this to you.

Nausea crawled up his throat at the prospect that he had almost left this world without knowing if you felt the same way about him as he did you. Angry at himself for pining after you for so long and making no move to show you his the true nature of his emotions.

He had been a silent admirer. Yet Azriel found himself wanting to be silent no longer.

"Did you say they were here?" he rushed the words out, the intensity of his question causing the General to sit back in shock, "where are they now?"

"Uh, I think they went to their room for a bit. I told them I'd watch over you for a bit."

Azriel wasted no time in jumping up from underneath the covers. Having learnt firsthand how precious his time really was, he wouldn't allow himself to wait another second without telling you of his devotion.

So he ran, blind to the flash of pain which coursed from his still tender wound. Unable to feel the uncomfortable twinge in his chest due to the heavy pounding of his heart.

Azriel felt no nerves nor anxiety. He was driven by his need to speak to you. A confidence settling in his heart that this was right - that everything was happening the way it was supposed to.

Every step closer to your bedroom was a step closer to his home.

So consumed by his desire to see you, Azriel neglected to knock as he entered your room. Wild eyes searching your chambers until they finally landed on your shocked expression.

~~~~~

"Oh cauldron Az, you're alright!"

A cry of relief tore from your mouth, as you closed the distance between you and the male, gently throwing your arms around him, careful not to embrace him too tightly for fear of upsetting his wound.

But Azriel didn't care. Not when he had you in his arms. So he pulled you tighter and tighter to his chest, until he could feel the gentle beat of your heart alongside his own. Needing reassurance that you were real. That he really was alive.

Once you had basked in each other's presence for long enough you pulled away, hands clasping his biceps as you moved him back to allow yourself to cast your eyes over him, ensuring that the male was actually ok.

"Should you even be out of bed? Az you need to rest!"

You made to pull him towards your own bed so he could lie down, but Azriel stopped you, holding your hand tightly to prevent you from moving from where you were stood.

"I've rested long enough" he stated with a shake of his head, consuming gaze meeting your own.

"Azriel you almost died" you argued, amazed that the male was even standing.

"I think I did die" Azriel replied, his words being enough to silence you, silvery tears lining your eyes at the thought of you almost loosing the shadowsinger.

"I think" he repeated not wanting to confirm the words which he knew out of fear of upsetting you, "I saw them. Death. They wanted to take me but . . . I couldn't let them. So I fought back. I fought and fought until I saw you. You saved me Y/N."

"Me?" you gasped in disbelief. You had heard the tales of warriors who had narrowly escaped death, swearing that they had seen the gracious form of the Mother as they were brought back to life. Yet none of them ever claimed to see a person who was real.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you" he concluded. If it weren't for your captivating presence drawing him towards you Azriel would have drowned in the inky orbs of death.

"I couldn't" tears had now began to fall from Azriel's own eyes, silver pearls trailing down his cheeks, "I couldn't leave. Not without seeing you again. Not without saying goodbye. It's all I could think about."

A sob broke from your lips, amazed that Azriel's last thoughts before death were only of you.

"I didn't care how badly wounded I was" he spoke truthfully, hands still clinging onto yours as if they were a lifeline, "They could have stolen my wings. Taken my sanity. Broken my spirt. But none of that would have made a difference. None of that would stop me from crawling home to you. No amount of ropes and chains could hold me back, not when it meant seeing you on the other side."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming surge of love at the sincerity of his words. At the desperation which flooded in his eyes, begging you to believe him. Pleading for you to feel the same way.

"My love for you knows no bounds. Life or death, you are always with me, and I will never fail to find you" he promised. Certain that if he could conquer death with only the desire to be at your side, he would be able to fight anything.

"You did it Az" you beamed, hands dropping his only to come and rest on his dampened cheeks, "You came home to me. Our love transcends all worlds. Heaven, hell, purgatory, we'll find each other in every single one of them I promise. Because I am never letting you go again."

You couldn't. Not when you had already almost lost him. You would never lose Azriel again. Yet you could be happy with the thought, that if the situation were to ever happen again, that you could be his guiding beacon. Leading Azriel back to you. Leading him back home.

[the-offside-rule]

Jenson Button (McLaren Era) - Formal

Requested: yes

Prompt: reader using Jensons name instead of his pet name

Warnings: none tbh

Jenson's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he navigated the familiar roads home from the McLaren Technology Centre. The hum of the engine was drowned out by the cheerful voice of his girlfriend, Y/n, on the other end of the line. "Heya, love." She said, her tone a touch too sweet for the usual end-of-day call. "Could you do me a favor?" Jenson smiled, glancing at the clock. "Of course, darling. What's up?" He asked, beginning to drive down the long road down the MTC. "Well, I was thinking... can you swing by McDonald's and grab me some chips, maybe a burger and a chocolate shake? I'm craving it." She requested, her voice holding a peculiar edge.

"Yeah okay, darling. Burger, chips and a chocolate shake, got it." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. Y/n rarely asked for such specific fast food orders. "Oh, and Jenson-" She continued, emphasizing his full name instead of the usual pet names she used. "Make sure it's fresh, okay?" A small frown creased Jenson's forehead. "Not if you keep calling me that." Jenson replied. "What do you mean? I called you Jenson." Y/n said, kind of confused. "Why the sudden formality? You never call me Jenson unless something's up." Y/n giggled amusingly. "Nothing's up, love, I promise. I just thought it would be nice for a change."

"Well don't, please and thank you. I quite like you calling me my pet name." Jenson's skepticism lingered as he pulled into the McDonald's drive-thru. "Jenson, your parents gave you that name." He rolled the window down. "Yes, my parents. You, darling, are my girlfriend. I like when you call me love and if you don't I'm afraid I'll have to block you." He ordered the requested items, making a mental note to ensure they were as hot as possible by the time he got home. As he drove away with the bag of fast food, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Y/n's request.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jenson's heart raced as he hurriedly navigated through the evening traffic, eager to reach home and see what he'd done done annoy his girlfriend this time. The anticipation of seeing her after a long day fueled his desire to press on the accelerator just a bit more. Blue and red lights flashed behind him, causing Jenson to let out an exasperated sigh. Pulling over and groaning, he rolled down his window to meet the stern gaze of a police officer. "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" The officer asked upon reaching the car. Jenson offered a sheepish smile. "I might have been going a tad over the limit, officer. Apologies, I'm just trying to get home."

The officer raised an eyebrow. "Home, huh? And where might that be?" He asked. "Right down the road." Jenson replied, gesturing vaguely ahead. "I've been away for a while, you see. Just eager to get back." The officer eyed Jenson skeptically. "You expect me to believe that? You're in quite a hurry. Who do you think you are? Lewis Hamilton?" Jenson couldn't help but chuckle at the comparison. "No, but I've beaten him a good few times." He replied, smirking.

The officer's expression remained stoic. "I don't appreciate jokes, sir. License and registration, please." Suppressing a sigh, Jenson reached for his documents and handed them over. The officer scrutinized them before returning to his patrol car to run a check. As Jenson waited, he couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. He understood the officer's duty, but the delay was becoming increasingly frustrating.

Finally, the officer returned, ticket in hand. "I'm issuing you a speeding ticket, Mr. Button. Please drive more responsibly in the future." Jenson gave a fake smile and took the ticket. "I appreciate the reminder, officer. I'll keep that in mind." As the officer walked off, Jenson mumbled to himself, the words "complete arsehole" being repeated multiple times.

Once home, he found Y/n sitting on the couch, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You're back! Thanks, Jenson." He handed her the bag, studying her carefully. "Alright. What's going on? Why the sudden craving and the formal use of my name?" Y/n smirked, unable to keep the secret any longer. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to see how you'd react. I like getting reactions out of you." She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

Jenson raised an eyebrow. "Really? You made me drive to McDonald's and speed home because I thought you were pissed off with me. I got a speeding ticket!" Jenson said, lifting the ticket. "And you have a Happy girlfriend who now has McDonald's." Jenson chuckled, shaking his head. "You're something else, Y/n. Next time, just ask for McDonald's without the elaborate plan."

"It's not as effective though, is it?" She teased.

[gallaghersgal]

Smoke & Mirrors || Lip Gallagher

chapter one of BORDERLINE.

pairing: lip gallagher x fem!reader (nickname: MK)

warnings & tags: the start of a SLOWburn. idiots with tension. mature for mentions of violence, smoking, swearing, canon typical dialogue and whatnot. y'all've seen the show!

chapter summary: lip gallagher has been your best friend since before you could remember. he's the smartest person you know, so it astounds you how someone like him can be oh so stupid. you're committed to investing in his future, even if he isn't. you won't let your best friend end up stuck on the southside.

a/n: ummmm hi!! wrote basically this whole thing in the last 24hrs. it's unedited and tbh if i look at it for one more second im gonna explode!! enjoy <33

wc: 2.9k

The crisp October air sends a chill down your spine as you usher your younger sister Caroline out the door for school. She groans and rolls her eyes when you grab her by the handle of her backpack, pulling her back to adjust her scarf. At a mere thirteen years old she already carries the same attitude you did at sixteen. “Whatever you’re gonna say, I don’t wanna hear it. You were just sick, dad’ll have my head on a platter if I don’t make you bundle up.”

She stomps her foot, a stupid, childish action that has you mentally swearing to never have kids of your own. Helping raise this one was enough as it is. “It’s not even-” she starts, but you cut her off.

“I said I don’t wanna hear it. Wear your fucking scarf or I’m telling mom you make that tutor kid do your math homework.” You shove her head gently after securing the scarf around her neck and let her stomp down the stairs. “Don’t be a brat.”

She doesn’t answer, instead starting down the street towards the bus stop. Cigarette smoke wafts over the morning air from the Gallagher house. You turn to see Lip on the front stoop, blood shining on his brow as he smokes. You feel a twist in your gut. What did he get himself into this time, you think. The repetitive motion of locking the door comes like second nature and you spend the thirty odd seconds it takes worrying about the boy across the street.

When you turn towards the Gallagher house Caroline is already ahead of you, not waiting until she passes the chain-link fence to call out, “what happened to your face?”

You catch up in time to hear him scoff, “good morning to you too, Kit-Kat,” pulling out her childhood nickname, the one she still hates, that he gave to her when she was barely four. “‘S nothing. Battle scars an’ shit.”

“What the fuck kinda battle did’ya get yourself into?” you ask, leaning down to take his chin between your thumb and forefinger. The cut isn’t too bad, a lot of blood for a relatively small abrasion, but the skin around his eye is already blossoming a dark bruise. Lip stares at you as if to say ‘not in front of the kid,’ and you nod, fishing a five dollar bill out of your pocket. You were saving it for work, but Caroline’s silence is worth more. She raises an eyebrow, to which you snap, “just don’t tell mom, ‘kay? And don’t skip just ‘cause I'm skipping.”

Caroline turns to leave and you extend a hand to Lip, pulling him to stand. Eager fingers reach for his burnt-down cig when he goes to drop it, taking the final hit for yourself before stubbing it out on the sidewalk. “Greedy. Gotta buy y’own pack,” he remarks with a smirk. All it takes is a second to get back across the stress, and once you’re inside he unwraps the scarf from his neck. 

Your eyes catch on his bruised knuckles and you tilt your head to the side with a silent question, you gonna tell me what happened? He sighs, hearing you loud and clear despite not speaking a single word. “Got into it with Frank. He was givin’ Ian shit for no fuckin’ reason.”

“Mm,” you nod, and catch his hand after he runs it nervously through his curls. The bruises there aren’t as bad as the one on his eye, Frank must’ve only gotten one good, drunken swing in. No cuts either, which was good. For all his tough guy exterior, Lip Gallagher couldn’t stand the sting of peroxide. The less you need the better, you think, and a grin plays at your lips when you glance up at him, holding his injured hand up. “Think y’can roll a joint with these?”

His laugh is like music to your ears, revelling in the first grin you’ve seen from him this morning. “Yeah, yeah I can do that, y’wanna jus’ skip the whole day? We could catch a movie ‘r somethin’,” he suggests, following you upstairs to your room.

You shake your head, opening the door to your room for him. “Can't. Calc test in third period. Sit down, ‘m gonna get the first aid kit.” While you get the kit from the shelf in your closet you hear him open your desk drawer, pulling out the grinder and weed jar you keep hidden at the back.

“You got a shirt or somethin’ I could change into? This one smells like Frank’s fuckin’ booze,” Lip scoffs. He shrugs the tee over his head and lights another cigarette, his eyes following your every move with that same boyish twinkle you’d grown fond of over the years. It was always good to remember things weren’t getting to him, not too bad. 

You cast a glare in his direction, silently scolding him, ‘you know better, let me open the window,’ but he only grins in response. Pale morning light illuminates the room when you pull back your blackout curtains and crack the window. The city is still quiet–or, as quiet as it gets in Chicago–and the sounds of gentle wind and birdsong fall softly on your ears.

You settle at his side, first aid kit in one hand and a gray and black sweater of his in the other. Curious fingers reach for a small cut on his shoulder. “What’s this one from?” You trace the gash. It isn’t deep either, but it’ll need to be cleaned so it doesn’t get infected.

“It’s, uh, ’s nothin,” he brushes you off, to which you shoot him a glare. That sets him straight. In a low mumble he simply states, “beer bottle.”

Rage seethes inside you, your jaw tensing as you wet a cotton ball with peroxide. You keep any comments to yourself, not sure how LIp will react. You’re aware of his more than complicated familial relationships–you’d grown up with thim, seeing Frank’s drinking get worse, and the aftermath of Monica leaving–but if there was one constant with the Gallagher kids, it was family first, above everything. You had your opinions of Frank, and you knew Lip shared your distaste more than anything, but that didn’t take away the sensitive nature of the topic. So, you stay quiet, dabbing at the wound with a gentle hand. The sting draws a sharp hiss from him, and it’s then that you realize how flushed he is, his cheeks, neck and chest are a soft pink color. Graciously, you pretend not to notice, so as not to embarrass him further.

When the cut is cleaned and covered with a bandage Lip takes his sweater, pulling it over his head. It leaves his hair mussed and he smoothes a hand through his curls while you tilt his chin up, inspecting the cut on his brow. Blue eyes stare up at you with a vulnerability you’re not used to seeing from the boy you grew up with. At least you know he’s comfortable with you. That’s all.

Comfortable. Friendly. Nothing more. The same as it’s always been.

The way it’s meant to be.

“Quit starin’, get me fixed up so we can smoke this,” Lip grumbles, gesturing towards the rolling tray in his lap. You laugh at that, heart quickening in your chest. Tensions between the two of you had been thick as of late, but underneath it all things remained the same.

“Glad to know you’ve got your priorities straight,” you snort, cleaning up the second wound with peroxide. He takes it better this time, more prepared for the sting, but you still catch the way a few pained tears brim in his bright eyes. 

Soft, parted lips rest under your fingers as you clean the final abrasion. The bruising is the worst here, deep purple hues present across his mouth and down to his chin. He finishes rolling as you’re wiping at the blood that pooled below his lip, a deep red trail spilling down his chin. Your delicate motions are interrupted by Lip bringing the joint up to seal it, licking along the edge of the rolling paper. 

“‘M almost finished, be patient,” you murmur, focused on keeping the disinfectant out of his mouth. A moment later you pull back, swiping vaseline over the split before wiping the excess on his jeans. Payback for interrupting your tending to his wounds. “There. All patched up. Say ‘thank you nurse,’” you tease with a grin.

He’s already flicking the lighter on, holding the flame against the end of the joint to take the first hit for himself. You busy yourself with cleaning up the first aid supplies until he passes it off to you. Thick, earthy smelling smoke flows from his parted mouth, which lifts into a mischievous grin as he hands you the joint. “My lip’s busted up pretty fuckin’ bad. Think y’could kiss it better?”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his blunt proposal. “Shut up,” you retort with a sharp laugh, before you can even consider it.

Lip throws on an exaggerated frown, “oh, c’mon MK. You know it’d be so fucking hot- ow!” He flinches, chest shaking with laughter as you throw your remote at him. “Okay! Okay, I know I know. You’re not one of my g-”

“Little ghetto girlfriends,” you tease, repeating the drunken dig an alibi patron had once thrown at Lip. 

“Exactly.”

You shake your head, laughing at him for a moment. “You’re never getting in my pants Gallagher. I’ve known you since we were three. It’s wrong,” you lie. Lip is your best friend, the same role he’s filled your entire life, side by side since the two of you were in diapers. But your rejection stems from something deeper than that.

Lip Gallagher is inconsistent. You can’t exactly call him unfaithful if he never truly commits to one girl, but he’s not one for relationships. He’s flighty. He runs from affection. More often than not he buries his true feelings under snark and insults, weed, booze, and–when all else fails–aggression. That doesn’t mean you didn’t love him, it doesn’t mean you had no feelings for him, it just gives you reason to brush off his advances. For now, it can remain a little game between the two of you.

Months ago, when these unwanted feelings began to blossom in your chest, you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t be just another girl he messed around with. You aren’t willing to let him mess this thing up for the both of you.

Eager to change the subject you move to your desk, pulling out an informational packet from MIT. Before you can get a word out Lip is shaking his head, casting a skeptical glare in your direction. “Hey, come on. I just want you to apply.” You lean to hand the packet over but he reaches for the joint instead, which you pull away quickly.

“No you come on, why would I apply to MIT, seriously,” he shoots back, refusing to take the folder from your hand. He settles more comfortably in your bed, laying back against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling instead of meeting your eyes. “Bunch ‘f ivy league reject pricks ridin’ on daddy’s money. You’re lucky I’m even applying to schools in town.” Greedy hands reach forward for the joint again and you yield with a sigh, passing it over. As an afterthought, you toss the packet to him as well.

“Just consider it, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll think about it,” he says. You don’t need anything but the way he avoids your eyes to know it’s a lie. 

You purse your lips, throwing an icy stare his way. Lip Gallagher may be your best friend, but you’re not going to take any of his shit. “Have you even got any applications in?”

The question seems to take him by surprise, tendrils of smoke curling from the corner of his parted lips. “I’ve got a few,” another lie.

“Really? What schools,” you question, head tilted to the side with a knowing look. “Don’t lie to me, I know you better than anyone. I can tell.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fine, you got me. I haven’t applied anywhere yet.” The end of the joint has a good stretch of ash, which he’s trying to keep precariously attached while he takes another hit. 

“Scoot,” you mumble, grabbing your own binder of college information packets. He stretches one arm back towards your desk to snag your heart shaped ashtray and knocks the ash off, then lays the tray in the space between your bodies. You settle in beside him, your knees propped comfortably over the throw pillow that always ended up in the middle of your bed. One hand takes the joint and the other opens your binder. 

Pages upon pages of information, campus maps, scholarship pamphlets, and your hand written tuition calculations make Lip go a little cross eyed as you flip towards a page with a yellow tab. “Okay. Here, look,” you point at the information you’d circled, reading Engineering B.S., training the Innovators of Tomorrow. “UI Urbana-Champaign. Great engineering program–” you flip the page over “–and scholarships for kids from underserved communities.”

You settle the joint between your lips, flipping through a few more pages. After a deep inhale you use it to gesture towards the page. “Or UChicago, that way you’d be close to home. They’ve got this thing called inner city promise. Smart kids, like you, from certain high schools with certain academic records and test scores can get full rides.” You run a finger down the short list, stopping at a familiar name and tapping it. “See? Lincoln Grove High School. You’d qualify, Lip.”

“‘M not some fuckin’ charity case,” he grumbles, snatching the burnt-down joint from your hand. “You’re a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

“Oh I’m a pain?” you snap, turning on your side to glare at him. “For what, believing in you? For not taking any of your self-deprecating, avoidant bullshit?”

He shrugs then, and the action is almost shy. He’s embarrassed. You have this innate ability to see him, the way no one else does. You scare yourself with it sometimes. “Just don’t know why you care so much,” he mumbles.

The sigh that leaves you is a deep, tired one. Convincing him of these things has always been difficult. For as smart as he is, Lip can be so infuriatingly stupid. “You’re smart, Lip. You’ve always been smart. I dunno what I would do if I went off to college and you stayed here. In this shithole.”

He doesn’t laugh the way you expect him to. He doesn’t brush it off. He just stares.

“We made a pact, did you forget?” you continue. He shakes his head silently, the far off look in his eyes letting you know he’s remembering that day. 

The day the two of you spent drinking by the pool. Making promises to each other. You’d said you would make it out, and you would do it together. You’d made Lip promise you that he’d give it a try, and stupidly you believed him. Or was it stupid? You’re not ready to give up yet. 

“I don’t want to do it without you,” you admit to him.

Lip looks at you, his blue eyes softening. “Do what without me?” You shake your head, scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder. He stubs out the joint and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Friendly, comfortable affection. The kind you were used to. “C’mon MK, spit it out.”

“Any of it,” you return. “Don’t think I could get through another four years of school if you’re not doing it with me.”

“Yeah? What if we’re at different schools, dumbass,” he retorts, but his palm soothes across your arm, a contrast to his words. “You gonna follow me to MIT, since y’want me to go so bad?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, turning to look up at him with a grin playing at your lips. He got what he wanted. He made you laugh. “I’ll call you every night.”

“Every night huh?” he says with a smirk. “Cockblocking me from a thousand miles away is just like you, isn’t it.”

You shove him playfully, sitting up to move the ashtray off your bed. The MIT packet lays somewhere at the foot of the bed and you search through the pillows to find it. Instead of handing it to Lip, you just tuck it into his backpack, handing the bag to him after. “Well yeah, can’t have you getting distracted by the chess team girls,” you joke back. 

He lays there in your bed, looking up at you with that stupid grin of his. All bared teeth and mischief, the same one you’d seen all those years ago. You stay silent for a moment longer before you stand, holding out a hand to pull him up. 

“You sure we can’t just skip?”

“No, ‘ve got a test, remember? Gotta keep my grades up if ‘m gonna follow you all the way to MIT,” you say, and shakes his head with a laugh. Maybe he’s coming around to the idea. “Come on, I’ll drive us.”

thanks so much for reading!! series masterlist here.

got something to say? stop by my inbox! looking for more fics? check out my masterlists!

[daysofyellowroses]

noodles

carmen berzatto x reader | 1.9k | based on this absolutely adorable request from my darling @thecapricunt1616 enjoy it then i am beyond happy 💗🌼🫶🏻

It didn't matter how many times you shook the plastic stick, the little pink plus sign didn't fade. You tossed it in the trash can, where it joined three others with matching pink pluses. You couldn't really get your head around it, you'd been careful, taken things relatively slow..well, kind of. 

Things had just progressed a little quicker than you'd expected. One minute you're applying for a hostess job, thinking you probably won't even get an interview, seeing as it was a Michelin-starred hotspot, then next thing you're front and center at a fancy restaurant and spending large portions of your shift flirting with the head chef. 

It was never serious flirting, it was just silly and fun. You made flirty comments to everyone, you just particularly meant them with Carmy. He finally seemed to get the hint when you asked him upstairs after he'd dropped you home for the 10th time. 

Nothing really happened that night, you just shared a drink, cheap wine from your refrigerator, and made each other laugh with stupid jokes. You told him you meant it when you flirted, he insisted you were joking. It was only when you kissed him that he finally got the message, kissing you back with a fervor that had your head spinning in the most wonderful way. 

From there you two developed a relationship that suited you both. You were professional at work, still had some nights apart when you were both exhausted or just needed some alone time. But you had spent hours sitting on his kitchen counter watching him cook, told him stories from your past, encouraged him to tell you some stories too. You watched movies that you didn't pay full attention to, you read your book with your legs over Carm's lap, rolling your eyes with a grin when he would tease you for looking so serious. 

It was the best relationship you'd ever been in, and while you weren't sure what the future held, you were positive Carm would be a big part of it, that you two would keep going, develop your relationship.

Sure, you had thought about kids, marriage, a home together etc., but in a kind of just-for-fun-daydreamy kind of way. 

Now, one of those things was becoming a reality. It wasn't exactly how you would have planned it, you and Carm weren't even living together. Sure, you stayed at his most nights of the week and had more than a few personal belongings left there, but it wasn't the same.

It felt like moving in should have been the next step. The excitement of starting to really build a foundation together. You were just skipping ahead a step or two, apparently. 

Eventually you left the bathroom and chose to sit on your bed for a while instead. You called your doctor and made an appointment, more as a formality. Maybe it would feel more real when your doctor told you rather than seeing it on a plastic stick you'd peed on.

Once you were dressed you went to make a coffee before stopping yourself, wondering if it was ‘allowed’, even though it was so early on. You decided to play it safe, having a herbal tea instead, which you nearly choked on when your phone rang, Carmy's ID flashing up on the screen.

Did he know? How could he know?

“Hey,” You smiled as much as you could, trying to feel normal. “How are you? How is everything?”

You hoped you didn't sound too unusual or not yourself, feeling annoyingly aware of yourself.

“Hey, everything's good,” Carm replied and you felt yourself relax a little. “Just..there's been a slight change of plan for today.”

You stifled a laugh, nothing Carm could say could be a bigger change of plan than an unexpected pregnancy.

“Oh? You raised a brow, lightly tapping your nails against your cup. “What's up?”

“So, it turns out that apparently I promised Richie and Sug that I'd babysit while they have some meetings. I hate to ask when it's your day off but..could you help me?”

You couldn't help but laugh, resting your head on your head on your hand and letting out a soft sigh.

“Of course I'll help, don't worry. When do you need me?” 

An couple of hours later, you found yourself at Carmy's apartment, smiling as he opened the door looking flustered, a toddler on his hip and a doll in his hand.

“Perfect timing,” He smiled, stepping aside to let you in. “I'm outnumbered.”

“Who said I'm on your side?” You raised a brow, smiling at the little boy on Carmy's hip and gently stroked his cheek as he giggled. “I'm here to help the kids gang up on you.”

“Oh good,” Carm nodded, lightly tapping you with the doll. “Bring it on.”

You made your way to the living room, smiling as you spotted Eva on the couch, giving her a little wave.

“Hey girly girl,” You grinned, going to sit next to her. “Hope you've been keeping your uncle busy?”

“Yeah,” She giggled, leaning over to you as Carm came into the room. You leaned down, smiling as she whispered in your ear.

A half hour or so later, you went to open the living room door as there was a knock, adjusting the toddler on your hip before opening it and trying to keep a straight face as you met Carm's eyes.

“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, raising a brow.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Carmy nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “I have an appointment, I'm a little early but..maybe you could squeeze me in?”

“Maybe,” You nodded, biting your lip softly. “Come in, follow me.”

You turned and walked further into the room, gesturing to the couch. “Take a seat.”

“Yes ma'am,” Carm nodded as you walked to the kitchen door and opened it.

“Your two o'clock is early,” You said, glancing back to Carm for a moment.. “Do you want to fit him in now?”

You nodded before turning back to Carm and gesturing to the kitchen. “She'll see you now, come through.”

You walked into the kitchen and smiled as you watched Carm walk in, the smile on his face as he spotted the makeshift beauty salon that had been set up.

“Take a seat,” Eva gestured to the seat across the counter, an adorably serious look on her face. You placed the baby into his high chair by the table, smiling as you heard Eva boss her uncle around.

“Hands in the bowl, keep them still.”

You went to the fridge, taking out a little light blue lunch box before glancing over to Carm with a smile.

“What color do you want?” Eva asked, pointing to the handful of nail polishes sitting on the counter. 

 “Hm, I'm not sure,” Carm mused, looking at the colors. “I got a big date tonight, I wanna look my best. What do you think will suit me?”

You smiled to yourself as you put the lunch box in the microwave, laughing softly as you heard Eva tell Carm to hold still.

After lunch and Carmy's nail appointment, you decided to take the kids to the park, feeling a new wave of love for your boyfriend that he made no attempt to remove the red nail polish. When you were taking the stroller to the lift, one of Carm's neighbors passed you in the hall and smiled at you and realized that it wouldn't be long before the baby in the stroller would be yours.

You brushed off the thought, trying to focus on just having a nice, fun day. As you were en route to the park, Carm asked if you could have a little detour, and you were sure the look on the kids faces when you arrived at build-a-bear would never leave you.

Carm took his nephew from the stroller and placed him on his hip before taking him to pick out a teddy, your heart swelling in your chest, moreso when Eva took your hand and asked you to help her choose.

You found yourself subconsciously placing your hand on your stomach, wondering what it would feel like to hold your own baby on your hip, feel their hand in yours, see the excitement in their eyes when they were presented with a cute little toy.

Carm's nephew had picked a bear (perhaps with a little nudge from his uncle), that ended up in a chefs uniform (that one was a total push), while Eva chose a bunny that she chose a performance outfit for. 

When you got back to Carm's, you were more than happy to chill on the couch, though you practically melted into it when Carm got a book and read to the kids (and their new toys) til they were asleep. 

“Not a bad effort,” You smiled, looking over to Carm and trying not to imagine the toddler that could be in his lap one day. “You might actually be pretty good at this whole uncle thing.”

“I might just be,” Carm grinned, reaching out to touch your hand. “Had help from the best though.”

“You're welcome,” You smiled, gently stroking his hand. “I presume that's why you're taking me on a..big date, was it?”

“Oh absolutely,” Carm nodded, looking serious for a moment before he grinned. “the biggest.”

“Hm, guess I'll have to get glammed up,” You smiled, looking over to Eva. “Maybe I'll see if I can get a last minute appointment.”

That evening, after a quick trip home to grab a change of clothes, you were back in Carmy's apartment. It felt so quiet without the kids, you found yourself putting on music just for background noise. 

When you were in the bathroom putting on your makeup, you felt a wave of nausea hit you, more out of nerves than anything else. You hoped it would leave, but before you knew it you were bent over the toilet, taking a deep breath as you waited for the inevitable.

There was a knock on the bathroom door when you were washing your hands, looking up at the mirror taking a deep breath. Even with makeup you still looked unwell. 

“Hey,” Carm smiled as you opened the door, the concern evident on his face. “Are you okay? I thought I heard..”

“I'm fine,” You nodded, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh as the concern didn't leave his face. “I just..need to talk to you.”

You walked into the bedroom, sitting on the bed and trying to think of the right words.

“Okay,” You began. “this is..really not what I thought would happen, and I don't know how you're going to take this but..oh god..”

As you buried your head in your hands, Carm was immediately by your side, his arm around your waist. 

“Whatever it is you can tell me,” He assured you. “I promise. Just let it out, we'll handle it.”

“I'm pregnant.” You said before you could stop yourself or build it up more, lowering your hands and looking over to Carm.

“You're..wow,” Carmy nodded, rubbing his jaw. “Well, thank fuck for that. I mean, I knew, but I thought you were dumping me.”

“Wait what?” You raised a brow. “You knew? How did you know?”

“I just knew,” Carm shrugged with a smile. “I mean, I guess I hoped I was right..I know it's skipping ahead a little but..I want what we had today, all the time.”

“Can you stop being so perfect for like one day?” You rolled your eyes with a grin, resting your head on Carmy's shoulder. “Or maybe just after the big date.”

[hanbinics]

if you don't know — m.s.

pairing ⟶ matthew sturniolo x !femreader

contents ⟶ angst, established relationship.

word count ⟶ 814

tonight we're fading fast

you’ve never known silence to be this loud.

you’re sitting in the passenger seat of matt’s car, the only sound heard in the small space being your breathing and the low volume of a random song on the radio. you’re used to your boyfriend being quiet, but not this quiet. It’s unnerving.

you muster up the courage to look up from your lap to the brunette behind the wheel. the car is parked in an empty lot, the two of you having just finished dinner together. it’d been weeks since you were able to go out on a proper date—matt’s just been so busy and school certainly hasn’t been cutting you any breaks. you thought tonight would reset the last few months, the sinking feeling that’s settled in the pit of your stomach at the thought of your relationship and where it might be going. maybe it was naïve of you to believe that one dinner would fix missed facetime calls and the absence of one another, the distance that’s been created.

unable to take the silence any longer, you suck in a soft breath. “matt...”

at the sound of your tone, matt doesn’t even want to look. he knows before he actually sees what he’ll find—those big pleading eyes, that desperation clinging to your features. your expression alone silently begs him to say or do something, yet he finds himself too big of a goddamn pussy to actually give it to you—to give you what you deserve.

“don’t look at me like that,” matt finally sighs. “eyes are the size of the fuckin’ moon, kid.”

his words send a sharp pain to your chest. you can’t help the fact that you’re trying not to let the tears brimming there to spill over, but you can feel your lower lip beginning to tremble and your breath is coming out in shaky puffs.

“i’m sorry my feelings are such an inconvenience for you,” you answer sarcastically, but it lacks the malice that you want to deliver. you want to hurt him for how he’s made you feel tonight—for the last few months. but more than that, you want him to fix this.

i just wanna make this last

when your boyfriend doesn’t respond, a scoff leaves your mouth. “is that seriously all you’re going to say to me?” you ask him incredulously, but your eyes are silently pleading with him to drop what you hope is just a façade. this isn’t your sweet boy—the one who buys you flowers for no reason other than the fact that the bouquet he’d picked out reminded him of you. the one you can always count on to put a smile on your face even when you want to be mad.

you swallow thickly, gaze unwavering even when he won’t face you. “do you love me?”

if i could say the things that i wanna say, i'd find a way to make you stay

a simple enough question. he’s told you countless times in the last year that you’ve been together just how much he does, in fact, love you—how much he adores you. hearing it again, now, would at least ease some of the nasty fears you’re conjuring up in your own head.

it would be easy, too. matt could tell you he’s never felt a single fuckin’ fragment of what he feels for you for anyone else. he could tell you that every time he talks about his future plans with someone, you’re included in every one.

but he thinks you deserve more. not empty promises and missed facetime calls. not people who watch his content avidly looking for any little piece of information they can find on you to use it for personal gain or against you. no—you deserve more than matt.

so go ahead rip my heart out; show me what love's all about

so when he’s silent for a second too long, tongue prodding his cheek, you can feel those brimming tears finally spilling over and rolling down your cheeks quietly. matt doesn’t have the heart to look at you right away, but when a choked noise of emotion leaves your throat, he can’t help but face what he’s done.

immediately his face softens, a dull ache thudding in his chest. his lips part to coo out a soft baby, but you squeeze your eyes shut, long lashes wet with the hurt he’s been causing you for far too long now.

“just take me home, matt. please,” you whisper. he takes note of your small hands balled into fists on your lap, the way you refuse to look at him—the way you can’t look at him.

he loves you more than he could ever truly describe in the way he wants and by not telling you in this moment, when you need it the most, he knows he’s ruined your trust in him completely.

and so he takes the car out of park, and he drives you home for the last time, chest hollow with his own heart carved right out of it.

©hanbinics

[gigabyte-flare]

There’s No Escape (Part 1)

Summary: You are going through a rather nasty breakup as you escape your ex-boyfriend’s apartment while he’s away on a top secret government assignment. You move to a completely new state in hopes he won’t find you. You clearly underestimated his determination because he has no intention of letting you go. 

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 1.1k (Next part should be longer! Wanted to get story building stuff out of the way before getting to the good stuff ;) )

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

A/N: @dollrxst, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ghostkennedy, @lipglossanon and like a bunch of others who’s fics I’ve consumed and have been inspired by, this is all your fault and I’m not even mad about it. Please excuse grammatical errors and such, it’s been a hot second since I’ve written stuff like this. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was now or never.

Leon Scott Kennedy, your soon to be ex-boyfriend, is away on some top secret government assignment and isn’t due back for about three days. You had been seeing each other for about six months and he insisted you move in with him after three months. He seemed wonderful at first, but living with him proved to be way more than you had signed up for.

He was bat shit insane.

You weren’t sure if it was due to unaddressed trauma from his line of work or whatever but his controlling and sick nature was ludicrous to you. He was controlling, manipulative and sick in the head. His idea of fun was holding a knife to your throat while fucking the absolute shit out of you. That was just the tip of the iceberg on the things he forced you to do for his pleasure. 

Anything you absolutely could not live without was getting stuffed into your little Jeep Renegade. If it didn’t fit, it was getting left behind because you had absolutely no intention of coming back. Clothes, toiletries, some of your books, your video game console and games, a couple pillows and some sheets all got stuffed in. When you were confident you had everything essential for your impromptu move, you closed the back hatch on the Renegade and grabbed your purse, phone and car keys from the kitchen counter, making sure to leave the copy of the apartment key you miraculously found behind. You lock the apartment door and shut it. You lean up against it and take a deep breath before you rush back down to your car. You had a long ride ahead of you; Washington D.C. to Boston was about a 9 hour drive.

It was now or never; you weren’t about to squander this opportunity to escape.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was dark by the time you finally arrived in Boston. You navigate the confusing winding streets and find your apartment that you got with your best friend, Becky. You see her come out of the front door as you pull up in your car and park. You see her wave as you step out.

“Hey, you made it! I trust you had a good ride,” she inquires.

“Yeah, long as hell, sorry I’m so late. What time is it?”

“It’s like 9:30, come on in! I ordered pizza for us,” she says, motioning you in. 

You grab your purse, keys, phone and one of the pillows you had stuffed into your car and go inside the apartment. You decide you can unload your stuff in the morning. The kitchen is the first room you end up in and you set your stuff down on the small island before stumbling your tired legs into the living room where the smell of pizza was calling your name. You practically collapse in a reclining chair after grabbing a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table. You let out a loud sigh of relief. You made it. You escaped.

“How are you feeling?” Becky asks before taking a bite out of her slice of pizza.

You finish chewing on yours and swallow hard, “I’ve never been so happy in my life. I’m honestly surprised I’m not dead from some of the bullshit Leon pulled.”

Becky shifts nervously on the couch. She was the only person you confided in about your sick, demented ex-boyfriend. You didn’t even tell your parents, you didn’t want to worry them. 

When you moved in with Leon, he forced you to quit your well paying I.T. job and forbade you from ever leaving the apartment alone. He took your phone away, but you found ways to sneak it back so that you could at least contact Becky. You didn’t want to think about the things he made you do; it was an absolute miracle you weren’t dead or pregnant from the amount of abuse you endured. 

“He hasn’t contacted you yet, has he?” 

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you lean back in the recliner, “nah, he won’t be back from whatever assignment he’s on for another few days, and I blocked his number.”

“Good,” Becky replies with a nod.

“I’m going to hit the sack,” you say suddenly as you get up from the chair and begin to walk back into the kitchen to collect your stuff. 

“No problem, I’ll help you unload your car tomorrow. I was able to get the day off from work.”

“Thanks, Becky.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s late in the afternoon when Leon finally gets home from his excursion, his forearms covered in scraps and bruises. He couldn’t wait to see his baby girl, his cock growing hard from the anticipation. 

He fumbled with his keys in the low light until finding the correct one to unlock the front door to the apartment. He unlocks the door and opens it.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” Leon calls out.

But there’s no response.

“Sweetie? Are you asleep?”

Nothing.

Leon could feel adrenaline rush through his veins as he starts to frantically search each room for his sweetheart. He became hyper aware of the dead silence of the apartment the further he searched. When he got to the bedroom, he ripped the closet doors open and found most of your clothes were gone. He ran into the bathroom; your toiletries were gone. Almost all your belongings were gone.

“No, no, no, no, nO, NO, NO!”

Where could you have gone? He never in a million dreams imagined you would ever leave him. You belonged to him. You were his everything. Everything he did, he did it for you, he did it to keep you safe from the disgusting world. Pure rage began to flow through him as he stalked back into the kitchen. Unsheathing his knife, he stabbed it into the center of the small dining table before he used both hands to flip it, letting out a primal growl as he did so. 

“That fucking ungrateful bitch!” he growls before walking over to the overturned table to retrieve his knife. 

“I loved you, took care of you, protected you… and this is the thanks I get…”

He pulls out his cellphone, dialing your number and putting the phone to his ear.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please check the number and try again.”

Taking a deep breath, he then attempts to send a text to the number.

We’re sorry, the number you have entered is not valid.

Breathing heavily, he puts his phone back in his pocket, balling both his fists and closing his cobalt eyes. He stood there for a moment, seething when he suddenly appeared to have a revelation. His eyes snap back open and he digs his phone back out from his pocket and opens an app. A smile slowly overcomes him as stares down at the phone like he was staring down at a long lost lover.

“There you are. Don’t worry baby girl. Daddy’s coming to get you.”

Part 2

[stinmybubs]

" Doing It For ME." Pt.3

Summery: The quirkless girl finally moving on. A new path ahead of her, her own that she can carve out, instead of following behind her first love Izuku Midoriya. But nothing ever stays. And its time to say goodbye to the Bakugou Family.

WARNING: PTSD Attack!!!

M. Izuku x AFAB! Reader x B. Katsuki

Pt.1 | Pt.2

Katsuki Bakugou. He is horrible at expressing he is horrible at expressing his emotions, when he first saw you, sitting there all alone on the bench he couldn't help but pity you, especially after the day he had he felt nice so he let you in.

Slowly but surely your presence became something he needed, it didn't help that you always hung around Izuku all day which pissed him off, but in the end you always came home with him.

But now that school is over, you looking for jobs and a good high school while he was getting into UA, he was afraid you two would drift. That he would loose you.

Katsuki Bakugou loved you. He never will admit it, he never will say it but he knew he did. But seeing you crying and hugging Deku on the last day of school made him livid, to the point where he couldn't even look at you for days.

His jealousy was his downfall.

You, oblivious to his love, you were confused why the rowdy boy was ignoring you at home. It disheartened you, he was the only thing you had left. This home was the only thing you had left.

“Hey! Katsu? You’ve been ignoring me I just-“ you followed him into his room, shutting his door so you could have this private talk with you. What startled you was him suddenly slamming you against the wall, hands gripping your shoulders.

“Ah! Katsu- that hurts..” you wince confused at his sudden aggression. “Stop botherin’ me…how about you go to your lover Deku so you two can be a happy quirkless couple.” Katsuki grinding his teeth, the grip on your shoulder tightened.

“Wha-what’s are you talking about!? Stop it you’re hurting me!” You could feel your heart begin to race, memories of your father beginning to flash through your mind until all you saw was your father standing in front of you.

Your body filled with fear, tears welling into your eyes as your breathing begins to quicken. “Please…” you couldn’t breath. You started to panic and you started to struggle. Wriggling around so he would try and let you go.

Katsuki’s anger and jealousy consumed him, not realizing what he was doing to you until he saw your face morph into a horrified look. A look you have your father the last day you saw him. Shit. Katsuki quickly released you realizing you were starting to have a PTSD attack.

“Hey..- hey it’s okay. Shit Y/n I’m sorry!” You collapsed to the floor and begin to crawl away, struggling to get back on your feet and out the door.

“Y/n!” You couldn't hear Katsuki, all you heard was your father yelling. You felt like a kid again, the day after you found out you couldn’t develop a quirk. Your father had slammed you into a wall screaming curses at you.

You quickly run into the bathroom, trying your best to make yourself smaller in the bathtub. Trying your best to keep your crying as quiet as possible. Crying until you passed out in the tub.

You and Mitsuki were packing your things, preparing you for the hospital.

“Thank you Mitsuki…for everything…for accepting me into your home. I just don’t think I can…” she cut you off hugging you. “It’s okay I understand.” Mitsuki began to tear up.

“Take care of yourself okay? Promise to keep in touch.” Mitsuki Bakugou. The mother you never had, she gave you the world, if only you could repay her.

Dragging your small luggage, you turn to look at Katsuki “it’s okay Katsu…it’s not you, I just need to work on…my...uh goodbye. Thank you so much, for everything.” You give him a big smile, wiping your tears before entering the bus.

Leaving everything behind.

Katsuki wished he could stop loving you.

He wished he had never let you in.

While in the hospital you had talked with various councilors about your future, giving you classes to see which course you wished to take while you were taking therapy. Diagnosed with PTSD, and Severe Anxiety disorder.

They said being a hero was out of the question, being quirkless and having PTSD of grown men being violent wouldn't mix well, so many factors were involved you didn't know if you could even have a future job anywhere. You needed a job that nothing to do with violence, was nowhere near the violence and where you could work on your own with no triggers around you.

"Have you ever thought of taking the support course? Inventors? You wouldn't have to interact with anyone as long as they put in a commission." Your head perked up, the sound of being helpful to Izuku from behind the scenes sounded like a dream.

"That sounds great! But...where do I start? I've never touched any sort of mechanics in my life!" You stated. Only being in the hospital for a few months, hearing from Mitsuki that Izuku and Katsuki had made it into UA.

"We can help you by setting up some classes, take it over this and you can transfer into a real high school when the time is right. Recovery is very important!"

So began your new passion, something of your own. Something you can do for yourself and for others! You finally can be useful for once in your life. But you decided that you didn't want your name out there at all, you wished to go under a hero like name, an alias.

Protea, a flower that represented strength, courage and resilience.

Time felt faster than ever, you spent your days hauled up in a garage making little gadgets and gizmos, taking everything Izuku had told you about hero's in consideration. It was almost like art, with a lot of welding and math.

This little hobby helped you move forward, but not forget. Something to keep your mind occupied was the healthiest thing you can think of, especially building your portfolio for the various support courses in the different schools. It was a shot in the dark but you submitted one for UA as well, you knew you couldn't do it but there wasn't any harm in trying.

Maybe you couldn't be Izuku's future, but you could help make a path for him.

From afar of course.

When your counselor brought the various envelopes from the schools you submitted your portfolio and application to. You were terrified, the fear of being rejected swallowed you whole.

"Deep breath Y/n, I know for a fact you'll get into one! Youve been doing a great job, and your progress has been amazing!" Your counselor placed the envelopes on the desk in front of you.

You let out a deep breath, slowly opening each one some were just regular letters and others were these flashy video tapes, the one you paid attention to the most was UA, your hopes were high wishing and praying that you hear the words of acceptance.

"Congratulations Y/n! You have been accepted into-!"

Your eyes widen, a smile creeping across your face.

I'll finally can make use of myself....

I can help!

AN: I imagine in this society certain hospitals are different and better! Mitsuki wanted you to have the best care! I used my own experience with PTSD and fear of men yelling in this! Thank you all so much Xoxo Stinmybubs! Also the school you think she's gonna get into might not be it. ;)

[vyglitchcraft]

Please write a scenario where Smoke(MK1) sneaks into the reader's room at night to express his hidden love for them?

Smoke Flows Through The Gaps

MK1 Tomas "Smoke" Vrbada x Gen!Reader

Content: Smoke breaks into the reader's room, questionable activities, SFW, reader is asleep for most of the fic, short fic/scenario, Smoke can turn into smoke like in MK Annihilation

Plot: Tomas decides to express his love in a...questionable way

"Finally, done" you rolled up a scroll and placed it into one of the racks. Stretching your arms up, you heard your back crackling after sitting down for hours. "That should be all for now, i think" you kicked your floor mattress to unfold it and flatten it down so you could actually lay down on it.

Pulling your blanket up, you blow the candles out and slowly drift to sleep.

As you fell unconscious, the door to your room slides open, slowly, carefully. Smoke slowly passing through the gaps and going inside of your bedroom. Tomas plants his feet onto the ground causing one of the old floorboards to creek. He silently cringes at the sound, he doesn't want to wake you up.

Looking down at your sleeping silhouette, Tomas sighs and sits down next to you. He watched your breath become visible as it came in contact with the cold air. With gentle hands, he pushed your hair away from your face just so he could admire you even more. He's been away for weeks by now, only coming back earlier that night. He hadn't even eaten dinner yet or taken a bath, first thing he did when he came home was to see you.

Tomas laid down on the floor next to the mattress, his hands hovered right above your waist but he quickly pulled away knowing it could wake you up. "You're so cold...if only i could warm you up" he whispered to himself. Moving closer slowly, he pressed his forehead onto your shoulder. "I missed you, did you miss me too?" Your body didn't seem to react to him or his presence at all. Seeing this, he went ahead and hugged you, not tightly but just enough to feel your warmth.

"Did you eat today? What did you do before bed? Have you been studying or training? I wish i could ask you those things" Tomas sighed. "You know i never liked those nicknames you gave to me, especially when the others started to use it...but i like it when you call me those things" he pulled himself closer.

"You know, i always imagined that someday in the future, you would take my last name, we would visit my country, explore the world...will i survive long enough to see that future?" He went silent momentarily, his voice still low. "After all, my brothers and i...we keep fighting, what if one day i did not come back? Will you miss me then? Or would you move on quickly?" Tomas shook his head. "Nevermind..." He pulls away "i should head to sleep"

Taking a long look at you for the last time tonight before he stood up slowly "i...love you" went back into his smoke form, flowing out of your room as easily as he entered it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: the best way to spend you Tuesdays is pissed at an old man.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Time passes too quickly. The clock counts down to your fate. Again. It feels like you’ve done this already. 

You laugh even though it hurts. You try not to think of what comes next. You just stay in the moment and help Kara clean up the mess the cops made of her place. She’s in high spirits considering. A night in jail can put things in perspective. So can the prospect of life imprisonment. 

You order sushi. You figure if Andy’s paying, you’ll splurge. She doesn’t ask how you can afford it and you won’t explain. Fuck it. It’s your last hurrah. A final little spark before your flame is tamped out. 

When it’s time to say goodbye, you’re choked with tears. You fight not to show it as you hug Kara and tell her you’ll message when you’re settled in your new place. You want to cling to her forever. You sense a reluctance in her as well. 

“You okay?” She looks you over as you pick up your purse. 

“Yeah. Yeah. A lot of change. Tired.” You yawn. You really are exhausted. “I was so worried, Kar. Really. I'm so happy you’re out.” 

“Oh, tell me about it! But hey, I’m kinda a bad ass now. I got street cred.” She flexes her arms and giggles. 

You laugh too. You’re going to miss that. You will hold onto every lame joke and cherish it on those days when you can’t make yourself smile. You know with Andy, those will be far and few between. 

You leave and linger outside the door. This could be the last time your here. You won’t think that it could be the last time you see Kara. Too many ifs, and just as many scary certainties. 

You reply to Andy’s text. He’s waiting around the corner where he won’t be seen. It’s bad enough you’re lying to Kara, but her knowing the reality is worse. At least in this, he is your ally. You meet him there.  

He smiles and kisses you as you buckle your seat belt. Your disgusted by him. You say nothing. If you speak, you might just tell the truth. You lean back and close your eyes. He shifts into gear and the engine whirs softly in the night. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

He asks you that as if it should be. You turn your face to the window. 

“Tired,” your murmur. 

He steers into a lot and you look up at the bright white facade of the hotel lit by spotlights. It’s the kind of hotel you could never afford. You never stayed in one before but you expect one of those roadside motels is more your pay grade. 

It feels like another boast. Look what I’m giving you. Look what you wouldn’t have without me. Yeah, yeah. You owe him. 

He gets out and you follow. That’s how you’ll get through. Let him lead the way. He’s so much older, so much wiser, so why not? Just go along with it all. He knows what he’s doing. Exactly what he’s doing. He entrapped you. He pretended to be his own son and tricked you. 

Your angry thoughts boil over as you enter the hotel room ahead of him. He steps in close enough to brush against you. You pull away sharply and focus on untying your shoes. You drop them and stare at your hand. 

“I need the bathroom.” 

“Oh, it’s just down--” 

He points and you’re already on the move. You rush into the bathroom and lock the door. You want to scream. No, stay calm. You can’t let him get to you like that. 

You stop and lean on the counter. You look at yourself in the mirror and exhale slowly. Sleep. Don’t worry about anything else. You need rest. You can see it in your eyes. You can feel it through every part of you. You push off and go to the door. You emerge and stop short. 

One bed. Your bag is beside it already. You can tell he’s been there all day. You sit on the edge with your back to him. 

“TV has streaming. Tub has jets. Your pick.” He suggests. There’s a fragility in his throat that irks you. He’s acting like he’s afraid of you. Like you have any power in this situation. 

“I’m going to lay down.” You lower yourself to your side and curl up. 

“Shouldn’t you... you want something to change into?” 

You don’t answer. You’re empty. You don’t have anything left. You just want to lay there and never move. 

“Sweetie?” 

“Tired.” You say. 

“Right, well...” The TV flicks on and the menu clicks as he shuffles through. “I’ll put on something for white noise. I’m gonna hop in the shower. Figure I’ll do it now so we can get on the road early.” 

You grumble and shrug. You close your eyes. His presence looms before his footsteps pad away.  

He doesn’t close the door. It’s probably intentional. Does he think you’re going to go in and join him? Has he really deluded himself into thinking you want any of this? That you want him? 

The shower buzzes lightly through the wall, beneath the audio of the TV. It’s some syndicated law show your grandmother had on all the time. You roll your eyes and shift to get under the covers. You nestle in and lets your fatigue cocoon you. Even so, you’re too agitated to fall asleep. 

He emerges as you hide. You catch a glimpse past the blanket. He’s in only a towel. His thick arm is rounded with muscle and his broad chest is covered in hair. Boys your age don’t look like that. 

You shut your eyes again as you burn in shame. You’re so stupid. You remember hearing his voice and thinking it couldn’t be some scrawny kid. You knew it! You knew it and you were too shy to call it out. 

Andy gets closer to the bed. You can smell the scented soap and feel the moisture in the air. The zip and rustle of his bag stir beneath the television. The bed dips behind you and he groans. He lays down and hooks his arm around you. 

“Hey, how ya doin’?” 

“Get off,” you hiss. 

“Huh? Sweetie.” 

“I said I’m tired.” You push him away and roll off the bed. You trip as the blanket catches your ankle. You spin to face him. “I’m tired and I want to sleep.” 

“I know, honey. I just--” He sits up, leaning on his arm. He’s in only a pair of briefs. Ew. “I was checking on you.” 

“I’m trying to sleep. I don’t need you all over me.” 

You come forward and grab the pillow. He seizes your wrist and keeps you from retreating. You tug and growl between your teeth. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“Why are we going backwards? I didn’t do anything.” 

“You need--” you twist your arm in his grip. “You need to give me space, okay? Give me a chance to think. I can’t-- Andy. You knew the truth all along, I didn’t.” 

“Backwards,” he drones in an annoyed monotone. 

You drop your shoulders and huff. “Fine.” You let go of the pillow and put your knee on the bed. “Fine. I’ll come back. I’ll sleep in the bed.” 

He lets you go and you put your back to him again. He sighs and his weight shifts behind you. The tension roils over you. Let him simmer. You’re on fire in anger and shame and despair. He can handle a bit of neglect. He deserves it. 

🎮

You sleep. Not soundly. Each time you rouse, you remember where you are. Each jarring reminder adds to your struggle. You scrape together a few hours, if that. 

You crawl out of the bed as Andy’s even breaths turn stolid. You can’t bear it any longer. 

You sit in the chair and stare. You don’t bother with your phone or the TV. There’s nothing that can distract you from your life. 

When he wakes, he says good morning. You feel his gaze but you react. He asks a question but you don’t respond. You just sit and watch the wall. His shadow moves around the room, around you.  

He nudges you. You wince and surrender. You look up at him dully. 

“Hey, wanna hop in the shower before we go?” 

You shake your head. 

“Okay, well, you should probably change into some fresh clothes,” he says. He checks his watch and your eyes find the digital clock by the bed.  

You stand and grab your bag and your purse. You carry both to the door and step into your shoes, bending down the backs under your heels.  

“Sweetheart--” 

“Let’s go.” 

“You can’t go out like that--” 

“Who cares? I'll just be in a car.” You grumble. “I just want... it to be over.” 

He silently measures your words. He grabs his keys and slings his bag on his shoulder. He nears and you grab the door handle. “You’re right,” he pulls the door back as he reaches above you. “Can’t wait to be home.” 

Home. That word sinks like a boulder in water. You go out into the hallway and he points you toward the elevators. Across the lobby and outside across the lot, under the dim early morning hue. 

He puts your bag in the car for you. You let him. Then he opens the passenger door and you climb in. He gets in on the driver’s side and starts the car. He asks if he should turn the air on. You shake your head. You can’t feel much of anything. 

He doesn’t ask as he stops at a drive thru. He gets you both a coffee. You thank him only as you sense his eyes on you. You just have to do enough to keep him off your back. 

“Alright, let’s go,” he takes the paper bag of biscuits and bacon and hands it over. “In case you get hungry, sweetheart.” 

Another thank you. Your voice is gravelly and grim. You don’t sound like yourself. You don’t feel like yourself. The motion of the cars disorients you. You feel trapped in your body. It’s as much a prison as the house waiting for you at the end of this journey. 

The road sprawls ahead of you. Your vision glazes over. Your head lolls against the seat as NPR drones in your ears. 

Hours and hours. You eat only as he asks for some of the food. You know he’ll accuse you of being ungrateful if you waste the sausage and pastry. You chew and swallow without tasting. You wash it down with the bitter coffee and wipe your fingers on your shorts. 

“There’s napkins,” he rebukes. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. Just saying...” he grips the wheel tight. “Why don’t you close your eyes? I know you didn’t get much sleep again.” 

“I’m fine,” you insist. He knows you didn't sleep. Is he so clueless as to not guess the reason?

“Mm,” he grumbles. 

You turn your head and gaze unseeing out the window. His sighs put you on edge. You twiddle your fingers. 

“You’re in yesterday’s clothes and you’re barely talking,” he insists. 

You cringe and put your head straight. You drop your chin and shrug. “I’m sorry, Andy.” 

“I’m trying to be patient,” he lowers the volume on the stereo as he speaks. “But I’m worried. What happened to the girl I know? The one I spent all night mining with? The one who would giggle at the creepers?” 

You nearly shriek. You flip your hands down and squeeze your legs. You bite your lip until you think it might split. 

“Things are...different,” you mutter. 

“I know but we can do it together. We can change each other. For the better. I just need you to meet me halfway.” 

“I’m trying,” you whisper. 

“I’m not saying you aren’t but trust me. I know that communication is the most important part of a relationship. We have to talk to each other.” He explains. “Look, I’ll be honest. I’m scared too. I’m nervous. It’s been a long time since I had someone and sweetheart, I just—I’d hate to let you down. I really would.” 

Relationship? Scared? It’s too much. It’s a bunch of lies he’s convinced himself of but you can’t believe them. You can’t make yourself, even if you know you should. 

He’s well off, he’s established, he’s older, he’s confident. He's offering you everything a woman wants; money, a home, a partner, yet you can’t accept any of it.

You didn’t choose this. You never even had a chance in your life to consider it. To imagine who you would want those things with. He’s snuffed that part of your future out along with your trust. You can at least thank him for ridding you of the last of your naivete. 

“Okay, Andy. Trying. Honest. I’m trying but... I don’t know what to say. How to say it.” You run your hands down your cheeks and exhale. “I’m still thinking.” 

That’s true. You have nothing to say. You’re lost. He might know where he’s taking you but you have no idea. It’s not about the house or the city or any of that. It’s about everything. What does he want you to be? Can he figure that out when you never even figured out that question for yourself? 

[neerons]

Some of Leon Dompteur's best quotes

"Leon Dompteur. My favorite food is meat and alcohol. Hmm? Alcohol isn't food? Haha, that's true."

"You can imagine I'm some fictional character you like if that works better."

"Never mind the roses—it feels like I'm the one wilting without you in my arms. What then? What if I shrivel up and die while you're gone?"

"(...) Well, I'd rather be liked by you than a bunch of random women."

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight? Hey, I just meant sleeping! What were you thinking?"

"I swear, you're the bravest woman I've ever met. (...) I promise, we'll bring you home. That's the one thing I'm not backing down on. And... Don't do anything reckless." (—Leon telling Emma he'll save her along with his brothers from Obsidian)

"If you're struggling, it's okay to show me. I'm not gonna think less of you for it. So don't force yourself to smile."

"No running, no hiding, no looking away. If you need to cry, look at me and cry."

"When I opened my eyes again, I gazed at the woman before me in awe. She was so stunning that I regretted closing my eyes and even blinking." (—Leon's thoughts)

"I've always wanted to see you in a dress that I picked out... then strip you."

"(...) I'll come duel with you as soon as I'm done here." (—Leon keeping his promise to Licht)

"Good girl."

"But... I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you... for so long."

"A special skill of mine, huh...? Oh, there's one I can think of right away. I bet I could beat anyone at competitive eating."

"I don't blame him for being charmed, though. She's just that amazing. Emma, you have no idea how much your presence means to me." (—Leon's thoughts about Jin and Emma)

"Good work. Even if no one else is watching you work hard, I will. Okay?"

"You must have taken quite a liking to her to go warning her like that. It was nice of you." (—Leon talking about Emma to Chevalier)

"Why don't I save everyone a lot of trouble and cut the lot of you down right now?" (—Leon to drunken men)

"Ever since I met you... the me I thought I'd killed... the me I thought was gone... he can't stop shouting to the heavens how happy he is."

"Owwww! What the hell? (...) you could at least wake me up some other way." (—Leon being woken up by Chevalier)

"I think it's actually kind of cute. It's meant to look like a rabbit, right?" (—Leon talking about Clavis' food to Clavis, Emma and Nokto)

"I can finally tell you what I've always wanted to tell you. Emma... I love you."

"What matters is that you haven't become a victim for the kingdom. Just knowing that is enough to reassure me. (...) She knew none of you would welcome her, yet she came here as the emperor's representative, to find peace for us all. Is there any of you with more resolve than that?" (—Leon defending Emma during an official meeting)

"Accepting who you are, and being able to open your heart to the people you love—that's what makes us strong."

"(...) I want to flirt with you. Please?"

"I can't be the only one left with a one-track mind. I need you to be as crazy for me as I am for you." (—Leon's thoughts)

"Sorry, I know I sound like a broken record, but you look so fine in that beautiful dress. I wish I had a picture of you to frame."

"She's the silver lining in my clouds, my sun who makes my future bright. When I think about her, I'm filled with the courage to face whatever may come my way. She's truly an amazing woman and the light of my life." (—Leon talking about Emma)

"Maybe instead of the one doing the savoring, you'd prefer to be savored?"

"I adore you. Even if I were to make the entire world my enemy, I'll never let go of you."

"I want to melt you with my touch until you're left crying my name into the night." (—Leon's thoughts)

"I want you to be at my side just as you are, I want you to be my queen just as you are."

"There's only one thing that I can think of that would help stop me being so reckless. (...) Mmm... I don't know, it seems a bit too easy to just go ahead and tell you. Why don't you guess? (...) And every time you get it wrong, I get to kiss or touch you. How does that sound? (...) Can you even think coherently when you're this wet and needy?"

"Honestly, you can call for me even if nothing happens. I don't mind. I'd still gladly come running."

"Every time we touch, every time we kiss, every time we say we love each other, my feelings for you grow stronger."

"If we continue, you're going to see me possibly the horniest I've ever been in my life."

"Sorry, kid, but you were born way too late. Plus, she's already spoken for. But at least he has good taste." (—Leon's thoughts about a boy asking Emma to marry him)

"You're so beautiful that I don't know what to do with myself."

"I'm so harsh on you first thing in the morning, aren't I? (...) I ate my fill, but now I already want you again."

[ajortga]

i'm not coming home.

pairing: vada cavell x fem reader

warning! sensitive topics ahead include: character death, suicide, overdose, massive angst with NO happy ending.

thank you egg for your request! cried a little making this which usually.. isn't quite normal to happen. hope this might make your angst heart pour a little.. p.s this was partially inspired by some other fics i read that i loved and this was particularly based off the lyrics im not coming home, not really my future:o

-

I just saw that song fic you made, it was very nice. So I’d like to request one of my own…

My future by Billie Eilish?

Obviously for my favorite girl Vada Cavell. Who else would I request for?

-

Her eyes looked at the moon, Vada’s brown eyes looking at the way the moon shone across the city.

“The moon is pretty, isn’t it?” A voice said beside her.

Vada's eyes glanced at you, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Yeah. But you were always prettier.”

“You used to say that a lot.”

“I know. It’s because I think it’s true.”

You stood there in silence, Vada scooted closer to you, pointing at the flowers right ahead of you guys.

“Do you remember when we planted those?”

“Yeah, they grew so pretty. We wanted to make a whole flower garden together.”

“The garden is growing I think.”

“I think so too.

Silence once again, the only sound was the dark trees rustling in the blue moonlight, stars above the two’s heads. Vada bit her lip, looking at the stars, her knees tucked under her arms.

“Do you think in another universe, we’d be in love?” You whispered, catching her off guard as she looked at you, seeing the way your eyes looked hurt.

Vada shrugged, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know..”

Another pause.

“Maybe in another universe, I never so badly wished it was this one though.”

She heard a small laugh, hurt laced behind it, “It once was.”

“In this universe we’re not. Because you’re no longer here.”

…

“I know.”

Vada wishes she could take those words back. 

-

Vada needed space to herself after trying to heal from traumatic experiences it was so hard for her to deal with. You were just trying to help.

You were just trying to help.

Offering to hold her hand in the hallways, reassuring back rubs, kisses on the forehead, sticking by her side.

It was too much for her. She just wanted to be left alone, but she didn’t want to tell you.

You just were so worried, you made sure to love her.

The day Vada was the most stressed, she took all her anger out on you for just trying to comfort her.

“Can you stop being arrogant for once and get it into your brain that you need to leave me alone? You have to let me go and it’s getting so frustrating you can’t get that into your system! Just give me my space when I need it!”

Vada’s voice echoes through the house, her eyes looked enraged as she saw the way your figure looked so small.

“Okay.”

That was the last word she heard you say before you left the apartment to just.. Process.

Vada felt bad, seeing the way your shoulders dropped as you walked out the door. But she was just so frustrated with all these events she couldn't bring herself to apologize. She was too tired.

-

Ding

...

Ding

....

Ding ding ding ding ding

"Oh my god.." Vada groaned tiredly, her phone light almost lighting up the whole room as she rubbed her eyes, stirring from bed.

Who the hell would be notifying her at 2:43 AM?

Her hands flipped her phone over as she looked at the messages, the way her eyes widened was indescribable.

my sweet y/n♡: vada they won't go away.

my sweet y/n♡: i'm so scared.

my sweet y/n♡: it won't stop, vada it won't stop.

my sweet y/n♡: i can't breathe

my sweet y/n♡: i just want it to stop.

my sweet y/n♡: baby please i need you. i don't feel good.

4x call missed

my sweet y/n♡: i'm sorry.

my sweet y/n♡: i love you.

my sweet y/n♡: i love you with my whole heart and i promise that you can finally be left alone like you wanted.

"No! No no no no no!.." She said louder to herself, immediately jumping off the bed and hitting the call button. No response.

"Please just pick up!"

She grabbed her keys and slammed the door shut, immediately going to your house with an inhaler and meds.

She kept ringing and ringing as she heard you pick up, immediately putting the phone to her ear.

"Baby! Baby.. Talk to me. Talk to me please."

"...Vada.." you cry, your voice barely a whisper, "It hurts."

"What did you do? Y/N.. Tell me please, what did you do? Did you take something bad?"

"I just.. I..."

Vada hears you breathing heavily, making small hurtful breaths.

"I just wanted everything to stop... I'm so tired.."

"I'm almost there baby.."

Vada makes a full on swerve as she busts out of her car, hearing the way your labored breaths were gradually beginning to grow shakier. The call ends as she makes a plead of frustration. She grabs the keys she snagged when she left the house and frantically unlocked your door.

"Y/N!" she cries, the house was dark as she turned every corner before rushing into your room, barging in.

There you were, curled up on the ground, your arm over your stomach as she saw the way your chest shook, the way you let out cries. There were pills scattered around you, your hand holding a pill bottle that was almost half empty. Vada screamed as she immediately knelt down as you turned.

"Baby, Y/N, wake up!" She cried, shaking you

You were barely able to make a noise, she could only hear you say her name, your voice barely an audible whisper with tear-stained cheeks and glazed over eyes.

Vada let out a painful cry as her hand reached up to caress your now cold skin. You were shaking as Vada picked you up and cradled you, calling the 3 numbers as quickly as she could, begging for the ambulance to come as quickly as they could.

"Everything is going to be okay. Don't close your eyes sweetheart. I promise you'll be okay.."

You curled your body into hers, your head drooping down as you look at her, your vision unfocused.

Oh how your eyes were the ones she loved so much, the ones she loved so much now looking like this. Lifeless, barely hanging on.

"I'm so sorry. Vada's so sorry baby. I should have never said those mean things to you. You mean the w-world to me. I love you so much," The guilt was stirring in her stomach, unlike anything she's seen before.

You whimper against her, "I-I d-don't feel good... I-I feel s-so c-cold.."

Vada sobbed as she wrapped a blanket around your shaking, fragile body, hugging you tightly.

"I'm here. Help is coming," she whispered, looking down at you, fallen tears beginning to drop on your clothes.

Your eyelids were half-open, Vada's voice was beginning to become muffled. You knew Vada was beyond worried, you just wanted everything to stop for a while.. You also knew deep down, you wouldn't be able to make it. You wouldn't be able to make it out alive. You wouldn't be able to spend the rest of your life and marry Vada. Maybe live in the green meadows like you always dreamed of, cuddling as you watched the stars at night. Maybe have had a cat too and looked like the romantic sweethearts everyone envied of, sharing small gentle kisses in the corners of every place you traveled.

You knew you couldn't be with her till her last breath, but you knew she would be with you till yours.

You knew you wouldn't be able to live your love, so you mustered all the left-over strength you still had and croaked out the 3 little words.

"I love you."

You felt it. Vada did too. The way your eyes glassed over, it was no longer the warm, pretty eyes she adored, they were now foggy and dark. The way your body began to lose it's warm comfort that Vada ever so loved feeling when she cuddled you to bed. It was all fading. And she knew your life was fading too.

Vada cried, she didn't want to loose you. She was sobbing and she couldn't do anything about it, she was so so scared.

"I love you too. I love you so fucking much Y/N. I.. I.." She didn't know what else to say, she was so scared that she couldn't speak anymore, wailing.

You gave her the weakest smile you could muster, though she knew that it wasn't the smile you gave her when your eyes would light up as soon as you saw her, it was the smile that you finally understood.

You understood. The cracking smile that showed you were ready.

"That's all my heart can ever ask for. I-I'll be there with you, as a pretty deer in the moonlight, or the shiniest star. I-I'll be there whenever y-you need me.. It was never your fault.." You whispered, before she could see your eyes go still, your shaking body beginning to slow. The last teardrop that would ever fall go down your cheek.

"No! Open your eyes Y/N! Baby! Please! I'm here! You can open your eyes now! Wake up!"

Vada didn't know love could make her cry this hard as she felt your skin turn cold, she wished she could just take it all back. She'd remember you through every memory. But she'd remember that the memories of the person she loved most would never exist in the future. It was all in the past. She knew that you were gone as she cried into the wind. The ambulance was just too late as they saw her hugging your soulless body, never wanting to let go.

"Vada's so sorry.." She cries in a whisper.

-

Vada felt herself sniffle, she could feel the way her memories invaded her brain. She could never forgive herself for it. On every shooting star she wished that it could've never happened in the first place.

She then noticed the way she felt her cheeks suddenly stain with tears, seeing your pretty body fade away in the moonlight above. Seeing the way that you bit down a hurtful expression, smiling with a cracked heart as she sniffled. The night sky is now beginning to reflect through you. 

It was all her fault. She couldn’t bear to hear it. But she knew now that you weren’t going to come home. You never would.

She knew one day you would fade from her mind completely. She couldn’t bear to know that one day, she’d forget the way you sounded.  She knew that one day, your ghost would eventually fade away, your faded presence beginning to slow as time healed. There would be a day that your ghost would stop showing up completely.

She knew that one day, all your memories would turn into months, years, decades.

Until it’ll all be too old for her to remember. To remember you and the way you were the first person Vada felt her stomach tingle with fluttering butterflies as you kissed her so gently. To remember the way you would hold your umbrella for her as it poured rain, seeing the way your forehead would drip with water from protecting her before you could shelter yourself.

"Keep our love special okay? Keep it just between us. Keep it in your heart." You whispered, before you faded away, knowing one day you'll appear once again.

Vada nodded, slowly, she still can't believe she isn't over it. How could she be?

Her hair was wet, she was so used to feeling a hood over her head. She was so used to being protected by you. Rain drenched her clothes as her body shook, staring at the way the city lights dimmed below her. 

She knew that you weren’t going to come home.

Because there she was, sitting on a wet patch of grass, drenched in the rain. Knowing that once before, you sat with her in the rain, holding an umbrella over her head as you hugged her, cuddling for warmth. 

Vada let out a shaky, broken sigh as she looked up, seeing the way the stars shone. One shone so bright as she smiled. Her star.

From the wind blowing so gently in her hair with rain showering across the city, the deer peeked behind the tree, making a soft noise.

"Every night and day I wish I could feel your cuddles, kiss me and tell me it was all a nightmare, but it's been too long to know it's not just stupid nightmare. I miss you more than words can possibly describe."

Vada rubbed her cheeks, wiping the tears that were falling, feeling the rain drizzle with her sadness, making a quiet cry.

"It's been 5 months Y/N. I love you. I wish you were here with me. "

Maybe you wouldn't be with Vada till her last breath, maybe her grieving wouldn't last that long. But she was there for yours, that's all you could ever ask for. Your girlfriend hugging you as you took your last breath. That was special.

[cutielando]

win | g.r.

synopsis: in which he finally gets a win

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Waiting for your first win ever was excruciating.

Going into every race thinking it might be the one and then slowly losing hope as the race would progress, realizing there was even more waiting in store before it would happen.

That's how George felt.

He had been in Formula 1 for quite some years now, but his win seemed nowhere near happening. He was slowly losing hope, getting used to the idea that he wouldn't win a race in the near future.

His family kept reassuring him that his time would come, but George's faith in himself left his body with each race that passed.

You knew how frustrating it must be, seeing all the drivers around you consistently getting wins and you struggling to get just one.

It was tough on someone's mind, it would ruin their thinking.

You, however, didn't let yourself think like that. He had been so close to winning so many times, you could feel it in your bones that his win was approaching with fast steps.

And oh, how right you were.

♡♡♡♡♡

Silverstone was a fan-favorite track on the F1 calendar for the fans, but it was even more special to both George and you.

You met at Silverstone, you started attending every race after it and became George's good luck charm, it was his home race and the UK was home for the both of you.

Plenty of reasons that supported your certainty that George would get his win at Silverstone.

He had been a nervous wreck all weekend, aware of how much the track meant for everyone, including you and his family, and he wanted to perform well.

"Baby, can you calm down? You're stressing yourself out for nothing" you had tried calming him down at your apartment in the morning before he had to get to the circuit.

He had barely slept, didn't want to eat anything ahead of the day and had been pacing all around the apartment since the moment he opened his eyes.

"I can't. Don't you realize how much is at stake here? I can't disappoint everyone again and not win this one. I'm going to be a failure and everybody will hate me" your heart broke when you heard George talk about himself so poorly.

You quickly got up and jumped in front of him, finally making him come to a halt and stop pacing around.

"You listen to me, Georgie. Nobody is going to hate you if you don't win today. I know you think they will, but they won't. Their support and love for you doesn't depend on whether or not you get a win today or in the next race. You're still young, baby, you have so much time to show the potential and talent you have, so many great years ahead of you. Your win will come at the right time. Please don't be so hard on yourself, I hate seeing you talk so badly about yourself" 

He bit his lip but nodded, kissing you on the forehead before bringing you in for a hug.

"I'm sorry for being like this. I just want to make you and our families proud" his voice was muffled slightly because he had buried his face in your hair, but you understood him nonetheless.

"We're proud of you no matter what. We just want you to have fun and be safe. If you end up winning, we'll cheer you on. If you don't end up winning, we'll still cheer you on. We'll love you no matter what" you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, silence sealing the promise that you would love him no matter what.

It was all he had needed to hear, his body slowly relaxing under his touch.

And it was also all he had needed to hear to motivate him to win today.

♡♡♡♡♡

You had never seen George drive so well. 

From the moments the lights had gone out, he had been driving like his life depended on it. He was overtaking like it was second nature, battling for position with Lewis before the team had ultimately made the decision to switch cars because George was faster, racing Max for the first place like he had never before.

The whole garage was on the edge of their seats, staring at the screens with anticipation.

It wasn't until George had overtaken Max and crossed the checkered flag first that the chaos and celebrations had really begun.

Engineers high-fiving each other, shaking hands and screaming in delight, you and George's parents hugging in a corner away from the madness.

You hadn't even realized you had been crying until Alison had wiped off your tears, laughing when you noticed that she had been crying too.

As you walked out of the garage with the rest of George's team and waited for him to return to the pitlane, you couldn't help the excitement flowing through your veins.

All the sweat, the tears, the bad races, the bad strategies, the hopes and dreams of being a Formula 1 Grand Prix winner had finally paid off.

George had officially become a race winner.

And you couldn't be more proud of him.

When you saw his car approaching and parking in front of Number 1, you felt more tears run down your cheeks as you observed him getting out of the car. 

The moment his helmet had come off, his eyes were searching for you in the crowd. When he spotted you, he gave his helmet to one of his engineers and quickly jumped over the barriers, scooping you up in his arms and twirling you around.

"You did it!" you exclaimed in his ear, holding onto his body tightly.

"I did it for you" he said, kissing your neck before putting you down.

"I'm so proud of you, my love. You can't even understand" you said as you held his face in your hands, running your fingers through his damp hair.

"I couldn't have done it without your support" he said before leaning down and kissing you, smiling a little when you both head his team wolf-whistle behind you.

As you stood there in the pitlane embracing each other, celebrating his first ever win, you knew that you would overcome everything life would throw at you together.

The win didn't just belong to George.

It was a win for both of you.

Yours.

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[mononijikayu]

that's all.

GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation

WARNING/S: romance, domesticity, fluff, family, break up, comfort/no comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, hurt/comfort, character death, depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of graphic content,depiction of emotional breakdown, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief;

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

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Gojo Satoru thinks that it was hard to understand why it keeps repeating over and over again, like it was a rewind on those VHS tapes. But he wonders why it always stops at some point. He feels like he's going crazy. His cerulean blue eyes flickered into the frigid, cool morning air.

When he woke up, it was like a loop. All the memories of the past rolling in over and over again. The day he met you on his twentieth birthday, seeing how brightly your eyes beamed at him to greet him.

Your first date on Christmas day, your laugh when the chocolate milkshake's foam stuck to his lips. He thinks he knew you were the one then, and he didn't waste time—when you got married only two months later. Together for nearly twenty years of happiness, nearly twenty years of nothing but love.

He wanted to continue seeing that loop over, he was sure. It wasn't just that you were happy. He was afraid of what comes next. He was afraid of seeing the damage he had caused such a beautiful life.

There was a comfort in the routine of the memories, a solace in the certainty of the past. But beneath the surface, a current of dread pulled at him, reminding him of the choices he couldn't undo. He could see it all in perfect clarity—the laughter, the whispered promises, the gentle touch of your hand in his. Yet, the loop would inevitably lead him to the moment where everything started to fray.

He was terrified of confronting the truth, the truth that lay beyond the boundaries of those cherished memories. The truth that he had failed you, failed to nurture the love that had been his greatest treasure. He feared the emptiness that loomed ahead, the vast, uncharted future without you by his side.

When that part played, he couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand how much of a fool he was, how he had hurt you. He had a hard time, trying to relive this moment again. Because, if there was any regret in that first life, it was making you the saddest creature in existence.

You stood in the dimly lit living room, tears streaming down your face, your voice trembling as you asked, "Is this it? Is this over?" Your eyes searched his, desperate for an answer, for anything that would make sense of the unraveling before you.

He sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped together, his gaze fixed on the floor. Words lodged in his throat, heavy and unspoken, as he struggled to find the courage to speak. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out—only silence, the kind that echoed with unspoken regrets and lingering doubts.

"After everything we've been through," you continued, your voice breaking, "how can you just sit there and say nothing? Do I mean so little to you now?"

His heart ached at your words, each one a sharp reminder of the hurt he had caused. He knew you deserved so much more than his silence, but the fear of admitting his failings kept him mute. He wanted to tell you that it wasn't you, that it was never you. That he had let the weight of his own insecurities and fears cloud the love he felt.

Finally, he managed to whisper, "I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know how to fix this."

The weight of his mistakes bore down on him like a heavy fog, clouding his vision and suffocating his spirit. He felt that for the rest of his life after your divorce. He longed for the life that had slipped through his fingers, the life that had been filled with the sound of children’s laughter and the warmth of a loving home.

He often wondered what might have been if he had chosen differently, if he had nurtured the love they had instead of letting it wither. He pictured the family they might have had, the milestones they would have celebrated together, the legacy they could have built. It was a bittersweet dream, a haunting reminder of all he had forsaken.

He closes his eyes again. He takes a deep breath. He was hoping that this time he'd find his way toward you. He longed for the chance to prove himself worthy of the love you had so freely given. He knew it would take more than words and promises; it would take action, change, and an unwavering commitment to healing the wounds he had caused.

As he stood there, the morning light filtering through his eyelids, he could only sigh. You probably don't remember him in this life. That he was certain. He didn't know where to start either. But he knew that he'll find you.

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Gojo Satoru hadn’t expected to see you again, especially not after so many years. Entering medical school was a new chapter for him, one he had hoped to share with you, but you had vanished from his life without a trace.

He had searched for you, hoping for a chance encounter or a familiar face in the crowd, but you were nowhere to be found. Eventually, he resigned himself to the idea that life would go on, even if it meant moving forward without you.

He sat at the bus stop, the evening chill settling in as he waited for the last bus home. The streetlights flickered above, casting a warm glow on the pavement as people hurried past.

The sound of footsteps approached, and he looked up to see you standing there, a familiar sight that sent a jolt through his heart. You wore a checkered pastel sweater, the same one you had loved so much back then.

Your voice was soft, almost tentative, as you spoke. "I think I remember you from somewhere." you whispered, the words muffled by the tight echo of your sweater.

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat. He could only manage a sly smile, though a pang of sadness twisted within him. It was both a joy and a heartbreak to see you again. He remembered everything about you—how warm your hands were, how kind they felt against his skin. Yet here you were, uncertain, unable to place him in your memory.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice tinged with a blend of hope and nostalgia.

You studied his face, searching for something familiar, something that would unlock the memories buried deep within. "We met before, didn't we?" you said, a hint of recognition dawning in your eyes.

He nodded, the smile on his face softening. He was sad for sure. But it was what it was. You were here, alive. That's all that matters. And he was alive. You guys were here, together. "Yeah, we did. It’s been a while."

There was a pause, a moment where the world seemed to stand still, as if granting you both a brief reprieve to reconnect. The noise of the city faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in the quiet space. He could see it, the way you were trying so hard to concentrate. To not disappoint. You still had the same

"We....attended the same school, remember?" He tries to clear up. He doesn't want to make it awkward for you.

"I'm sorry." you said, your voice apologetic, "I wish I could remember more."

Satoru shook his head, his smile reassuring. "It’s okay," he replied.

The bus arrived, its doors sliding open with a hiss, but neither of you moved to get on. Instead, you stood there. Satoru glanced at the arriving bus, then back at you. You both were from a different area of town, he thinks. The next one coming is his. He has got to shoot his shot now. A determined grin spreading across his face. He felt a familiar warmth in your presence, even if your memories were still catching up to his.

"So," he said, trying to muster his trademark confidence but ending up sounding more awkward than suave, "since we're both here and all, maybe we should, you know, hang out sometime? I like you. But I just....you get what I mean? Like a…date? If you’re into that kind of thing, I mean."

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him fumble for words. You must think he's such a loser. He could feel his ears turn red. You grinned at him, walking to him. You must think he's a weirdo now. He readies himself for a rejection, maybe even a slap.

"Are you asking me out like that?" you teased, enjoying the sight of the usually composed Satoru looking a bit flustered.

"Uh, yeah," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I mean, it’s not like we have to, but it could be fun. We could catch up, and I promise not to bore you with medical jargon or anything. I swear too, I'm not a creep."

"That feels like something a creep would say."

"I promise you, I swear! I'm a really good boy. I'll send you references that can vouch for me."

"And you sure they won't lie to me about you?"

"I promise, they'll be brutally honest!" He crosses his heart, raising his hand like a pledge. "Ieiri Shoko, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento-"

"Oh, wait, you're the annoying shitty glasses Nanami talks about?" You point at him, causing him to be taken aback, his mouth opening. "He rants about you when we're doing calculations at Aerodynamics! He says you're the worst person in his life!"

He could feel his face turn redder than ever. "Fuck, that's how you know me? Not the handsome, flamboyant boy in our high school?"

"Sorry." You shake your head, covering your mouth as you laughed.

"It's.....fine. I guess its better than you not remembering me."

Your laughter rang out, bright and cheerful, as you nodded. "Okay, okay," you said, still giggling. "I’d like that. Let’s make some new memories, hm? Better ones than this."

Satoru’s heart leaped at your response, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at himself. "Great! So, maybe dinner and a movie? Or do people still do that? Maybe there's a more trendy thing now. Oh, I know! We could go to that new cat cafe—"

You cut him off with another laugh. "Dinner and a movie sounds perfect," you said, smiling warmly at him. "But maybe we can save the cat cafe for another day."

"Deal." Satoru replied, grinning from ear to ear. "I promise it'll be the best date you've had in years…or, you know, at least not the worst."

The bus finally departed without either of you, leaving you standing together under the streetlights, your shared laughter and the promise of a new beginning filling the air. As you exchanged phone numbers, Satoru couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this was fate’s way of giving him another chance, and he was determined not to let it slip away.

"See you soon, then," you said, waving as you turned to leave, your smile still lingering.

Satoru watched you go, his heart light with the prospect of rekindling what was lost. "Yeah," he called after you, "see you soon!"

As you disappeared into the night, Gojo Satoru chuckled to himself, shaking his head at how he had managed to bungle the smooth-talking act. But he didn’t mind. You had said yes, and that was all that mattered.

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You and Satoru quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm, and he was happy—truly happy. The universe had given him a second chance in this life with you, and he was determined to cherish every moment.

He found immense joy in getting to know this version of you, marveling at how similar you were to the one he had loved in his other life. You were still kind, so beautiful, and the same wonderful person he had fallen in love with.

Life together felt natural, as if no time had passed. After a whirlwind romance, you decided to move in together again, finding a cozy apartment filled with light and laughter.

It wasn't long before you stumbled upon a scruffy little dog on the street, its big eyes pleading for help. Without a second thought, you both decided to adopt it, giving it a warm home and a loving family.

The dog quickly became part of your lives, bringing chaos and joy in equal measure. It was a small thing, but it solidified your bond and brought endless moments of happiness. Satoru loved watching you interact with the dog, your shared laughter echoing through the apartment.

Every day felt like a new adventure, and Satoru couldn’t believe how content he was. Whether it was cooking dinner together, taking long walks in the park, or simply sitting on the couch with the dog nestled between you, he treasured it all. He often found himself watching you with a fond smile, amazed at how lucky he was to have this second chance.

"You know," he would say, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both watched the sunset from your balcony, "I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been."

You would smile back at him, your eyes shining with warmth and affection. "Me too, you know?" you’d reply, resting your head against his shoulder. "I’m glad we found each other, Satoru."

And in those moments, with you by his side and the dog curled up at your feet, Satoru knew he was exactly where he was meant to be. He had been given a precious gift—a chance to love you all over again—and he was determined to make the most of it.

You lay down beside him on the soft grass in your backyard, gazing up at the night sky. The stars twinkled above, casting a serene glow over the world. Satoru turned his head from the stars to look at you, feeling a sense of contentment he hadn't known in a long time.

You shifted slightly, your voice soft and reflective. “You know, I used to make paper cranes and think that they could reach the sky.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, curious. “Why did you think that?”

You smiled, your gaze still fixed on the stars. “Because aren’t paper cranes the ones that carry the wishes of humans to the gods?”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “I suppose that makes sense. They are meant to be symbols of hope and wishes.”

You nodded, a playful glint in your eye. “I used to imagine that each crane I folded was sending my wishes up to the stars, hoping that they would reach some divine place and be granted.”

Satoru smiled, his heart swelling with affection. “And what did you wish for back then?”

You turned to look at him, your eyes shining with a mix of nostalgia and warmth. “I wished for a life filled with love and happiness."

He took your hand, squeezing it gently. “Did you get your wish?"

"Yes." You whispered back at him, squeezing back. "I did."

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Gojo Satoru entered the floor once again for his residency shift, ready to tackle another busy day. The halls buzzed with the usual activity, doctors and nurses moving with purpose as they attended to patients. As he made his way to the locker room, he spotted Ieiri Shoko, his longtime friend, his fellow doctor in training, heading straight for him.

"Satoru," Shoko called, her expression serious, "Can I....Can we talk for a minute?"

"Sure, Sho. What's up?" he replied, following her down the corridor.

She led him to a quiet room and closed the door, her demeanor uncharacteristically somber. "There’s something you need to know," she said, her voice low. "Someone came in today."

Satoru's first thought was that it might be you, stopping by for a surprise visit. "Was it my love, hm? Did they come to see me?"

Shoko hesitated before shaking her head. "Not exactly. I want to show you something first."

She handed him a folder containing medical records from earlier that day. As Satoru scanned the documents, his eyes widened in disbelief. His heart sank as he read through the notes, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Is this real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are these records really about them?"

Shoko nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. "I’m afraid so. I thought you should know."

Satoru’s mind reeled with the information, his thoughts a jumble of worry and confusion. He didn’t remember how long he stayed like that, frozen in time. The last time it was him, and he had hurt you. But this time…this time…

His hand shook as it clenched into a fist. You were already happy together. Why does this have to happen now?

This was a lethal one. He couldn't believe it, how your brain was killing you. No wonder when you first met…he shouldn’t have known. He should have. He pressed his lips into a flat line as his mind tried to dig through memory after memory of you. He was—he was about to be a doctor. How could he have not noticed?

The thought gnawed at him, a relentless accusation that echoed in his mind. The medical records had laid bare the harsh reality: the diagnosis, the prognosis, the path ahead. It was as if the ground beneath him had shifted, leaving him unsteady and disoriented.

After a few moments, he managed to thank Shoko, his voice distant and detached, before leaving the hospital. His heart was heavy with the knowledge he now carried, a weight that seemed too much to bear.

He walked to the parking lot and sat inside his car, closing the door and sealing himself in a cocoon of silence. He stayed there, unmoving, for god knows how long. The world outside blurred into a haze, unnoticed and unimportant.

Then, the dam inside him broke. He sobbed, his body wracked with the force of his grief. He cried for you, for the life you had built together, for the future he feared might slip away. He cried for the guilt that clawed at him, a relentless whisper that insisted this was somehow his fault.

Had he been better to you, had he been good to the world—maybe this wouldn’t be happening to you. Maybe you wouldn’t be facing this battle. He had always thought of himself as strong, capable of handling whatever life threw his way. But this? This was different.

He felt powerless, a sensation he was unaccustomed to, and it terrified him. All the training, all the knowledge he had gained in medical school seemed meaningless now. He was supposed to be the one who fixed things, who healed. And yet, he couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t make this go away.

The realization crashed over him, wave after wave, until he was left feeling hollow and spent. The tears slowed, leaving a profound emptiness in their wake. Satoru sat in the quiet of his car, the echo of his sobs lingering in the air.

Finally, he took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to gather the fragments of his resolve. He knew he had to be strong for you, to support you through whatever came next. You deserved that, at the very least.

With trembling hands, he started the car, knowing he had to return home to you. He needed to see you, to hold you.

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When Satoru arrived home, he found you sitting at the dining table, your hands deftly folding paper into intricate shapes. The sight was both familiar and comforting, and he paused in the doorway, watching you as though he were trying to burn the image into his memory.

Your dog greets him, running up to him. He tries to be cheerful in front of your dog. He presses a kiss on his head and pats his fur tenderly. He stands up immediately, walking towards you. How peaceful you look, how beautiful you look. Everything about this moment, it hurts him. It calms him. It makes him fall in love over and over again.

You looked up and smiled, your face lighting up at the sight of him. "Hey, welcome back!" you greeted, gesturing to the colorful array of origami cranes spread out before you. "I’m making one thousand cranes, you know, for the wish."

He approached and sat beside you, his emotions a tumultuous mix of love and fear. "What’s the wish for?" he asked, his voice trembling despite his efforts to stay calm.

Your smile was soft, full of warmth and certainty. "To be with you forever." you replied, your eyes meeting his with unwavering affection. "Like we always wanted."

The words hit Gojo Satoru with the force of a tidal wave, and he felt his composure crumble. Tears welled in his eyes, and he began to sob, unable to hold back the torrent of emotions that had been building inside him.

You watched him with concern, reaching out to wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. "Hey, are you going to be alright?" you asked gently, your voice soothing and tender.

He buried his face in your shoulder, his tears soaking into your shirt as he clung to you. "I just—" he choked out, "I can’t lose you."

You held him tighter, your embrace a balm to his aching heart. "You won’t," you whispered, your voice steady and reassuring. "I’ll always be here with you, Satoru. Always."

In that moment, wrapped in your arms, Satoru felt the weight of his fears begin to lift.

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As days turned into weeks, your condition deteriorated at an alarming rate. The tumor in your brain had progressed to a stage where surgery was no longer an option. The diagnosis was a harsh reality that Gojo Satoru couldn’t escape, no matter how much he wished it were otherwise.

He found himself questioning everything. He had become a doctor to heal, to save lives, yet here he was, unable to save the one person who meant the world to him. The thought gnawed at him, a relentless reminder of his perceived failure. If he couldn’t save you, how could he ever be expected to save anyone else?

Each day, as he walked into the hospital, his heart felt heavy with the weight of his own inadequacy. He passed by patients he could help, doctors who looked to him for guidance, all while wrestling with the crushing realization that he was powerless in the face of your illness.

But he refused to let you see this side of him. You had always been his strength, and he didn’t want to burden you with his self-loathing. He masked his inner turmoil with a practiced smile, determined to show you a facade of optimism and support, even as his heart ached with the pain of watching you suffer.

When he was with you, he tried his hardest to remain upbeat. He would talk to you about trivial things, tell you funny stories from his day at the hospital, and offer encouragement with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The effort was exhausting, but he was driven by a singular purpose—to make your days brighter, to give you moments of happiness despite the grim reality.

“You’re so strong, baby.” he would say, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I’m proud of you, you know that? We’ll get through this. We’ll find a way to make the best of it.”

Inside, however, he was a storm of self-doubt and anger. How could he reconcile the fact that he was trained to save lives, yet unable to save yours? The bitterness of his own inadequacy was a harsh contrast to the warmth he projected for your sake.

The nights were the hardest. When he was alone, he would let his guard down, allowing the tears to fall as he grappled with the overwhelming weight of his emotions. He would sit in the quiet of his room, staring at the ceiling, wrestling with the guilt and self-reproach that seemed to consume him.

Yet, each morning, he would pull himself together, don his mask of cheerfulness, and return to you with the same unwavering determination. For you, he would continue to smile, to hope, and to cherish every moment of time he had left with you.

His love for you was the only thing that kept him going, the only light in the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. Despite his own pain, he would remain by your side, offering whatever comfort and support he could.

Satoru sat beside you in the dimly lit room, the soft whir of hospital equipment filling the quiet space. His attempts to maintain a cheerful demeanor had become increasingly strained, but you saw through his facade.

“Hey, 'toru.” you said softly, noticing how he seemed more withdrawn than usual. “You’ve been so quiet lately. Is something wrong?”

Satoru looked at you, his heart aching at the concern in your eyes. He forced a smile, but it faltered. “It’s nothing,” he said, his voice betraying the weight he carried. “Just feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

You reached out, gently touching his hand. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. I want to know what’s going on.”

Satoru took a deep breath, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “It’s just... seeing you like this, knowing there’s nothing more I can do. I became a doctor to help people, to make a difference. But right now, I can’t save you.”

You squeezed his hand, your gaze softening. “Satoru, you’ve done everything you can. It’s not your fault. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, things don’t turn out the way we hope.”

He shook his head, tears welling up. “I keep thinking, if I had been more observant, if I had noticed the signs earlier, maybe—maybe I could have done something.”

You took a deep breath, looking at the pile of paper cranes you were meticulously folding. “Do you remember why I’m making these?”

Satoru glanced at the cranes scattered across the table. “For your wish?”

“Yes.” you said, nodding. “I’m making one thousand cranes. It’s a tradition that if you complete them, your wish will be granted.”

He watched as you carefully folded another crane, your hands moving with practiced precision. “Is your wish the same?” he asked, trying to hold back his tears. "To be together forever?"

You smiled gently, your eyes meeting his. “What else is there to wish for, Satoru? You were always my dream come true.”

Satoru’s composure broke, and he began to sob, his body shaking with the force of his grief. “I love you so much, baby.” he choked out. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

You reached out, embracing him tightly. “I love you too, Satoru. And I’m here with you, every step of the way. We’ll face this together.”

Satoru buried his face in your shoulder, allowing himself to release the pent-up emotions he had been hiding. The warmth of your embrace was a stark contrast to the cold reality of the situation.

“I just wish I could make you better. It’s tearing me apart to see you suffer.”

You stroked his hair, your heart breaking for him. “You’ve already given me so much. Your love, your support—it means everything to me. And that’s more than enough.”

He looked up at you, tears still glistening in his eyes. “I feel like I’ve failed. I should be able to fix this, to save you.”

“You haven’t failed, my love.” you said softly, holding his gaze. “Sometimes, we can’t control everything. But we have each other, and that’s what matters most.”

As the tears subsided, Satoru took a shaky breath. He watched as you continued folding the cranes, each one a symbol of hope and love. Despite his efforts to hold back his tears, he felt a new wave of emotion rising within him.

You had said you wanted to finish the cranes as much as possible before you died, so that your wish could come true—that you would be together forever. The thought of not achieving that dream, of not having you in his life, was almost too much to bear.

Satoru wiped his wet eyes, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and sorrow. “Can I help you with the cranes?” he asked, his heart aching. “I want to make sure the gods know I have the same dreams.”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. Your smile was soft, but it held a depth of love that made Satoru’s heart ache in the best way possible.

“Of course, my love.” you said gently, reaching out to him. “I’d love that.”

He moved closer, taking a seat beside you at the table. He picked up a piece of paper, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to mimic the folds you had shown him. Each crease was an act of defiance against the fate that loomed over you both, a testament to the love and hope that bound you together.

As he worked alongside you, he stole glances at you, admiring the way your hands moved. Your hands were beautiful. You always have had the most beautiful existence. Of course, you would make something so beautiful too.

As the cranes began to accumulate, they became more than just paper and folds. So did the hopes, so did the wonders, so did the expectations. Gojo Satoru thinks that he was lucky. He always has been. Bcause you were with him. Because you were always what made life feel so lucky, feel so whole.

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Gojo Satoru sat alone in the quiet room, the faint echoes of hospital activity the only sounds breaking the oppressive silence. The weight of your absence felt almost unbearable.

He always told you that if you were to grow old together, that he would think it'd be best that you died together. But ideally, he would want to die first. He can't bear the thought of losing you again.

Even if it is to death. But death wasn't one to grant wishes fast. Death doesn't discriminate. It just takes and takes.

You had left as quickly as you had come into his life. The last memory he had of you was sending him off to find some of those bread rolls you liked—an ordinary task that now felt laden with an almost premonitory sadness.

He wondered if you had known, deep down, that your time was running out. Perhaps you had felt it coming and wanted to spare him the agony of watching you leave. The thought of you making that decision, of choosing to shield him from the worst of the pain, only deepened his sorrow.

Satoru’s mind replayed the moments of your final days together. He remembered laying by your side, feeling the weight of your past life’s final farewell.

It hadn’t been fair. In his past life, he had been given the chance to say goodbye to you on his deathbed. This time, you had taken that moment away from him, leaving him to face an unbearable reality alone.

He glanced at your lifeless body, the grief almost too heavy to bear. He didn't want to leave you alone, even for a moment. But Shoko’s voice cut through his despair, gentle yet firm.

“The morgue will take care of everything,” Shoko said, her tone reassuring. “You need to rest, Satoru. Take a shower, clear your head. You’ll need to face the world and everything that comes next.”

Satoru looked at her, his eyes red-rimmed and weary. “But I... I don’t want to leave them alone.”

Shoko placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I understand, but you have to take care of yourself too. You need to be strong, for both of you. Rest now, and we’ll handle the arrangements.”

He nodded slowly, his heart heavy with the burden of his grief. He took one last look at you, trying to imprint the image of you in his memory, before he reluctantly made his way to the hospital’s shower facilities.

As the water cascaded over him, he tried to wash away the physical and emotional exhaustion that clung to him. But no amount of water could cleanse the sorrow or erase the memory of losing you. He closed his eyes, letting the steam envelop him, and took a deep breath.

The world outside seemed distant and blurred, a reminder of the life he now had to face without you. As he emerged from the shower, he wonders how he can move on.

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Satoru thinks that the house is eerily quiet. The dog, like usual, woke him up with his tail wagging and eyes bright with excitement. It was a comforting routine that had always brought him joy, but tonight, it felt like an unbearable reminder of what he had lost.

The dog leaped up to greet him, paws against his legs, and Satoru knelt down, trying to muster a smile. But as he looked into the dog's trusting eyes, the reality of the situation hit him with full force.

Satoru’s composure crumbled. He wrapped his arms around the dog, pulling him close as the tears he had been holding back surged forth. The dog nuzzled against him, sensing his distress, and Satoru’s sobs became more pronounced.

Through his tears, he choked out, “You know, buddy... they're not coming home anymore. They...... they're gone.”

The dog looked up at him, head tilting slightly as if trying to understand. Satoru could hardly bring himself to continue, the weight of the words feeling almost too heavy to bear.

“I don’t know how to explain it to you, but... they won’t be here to make you those treats they used to bake. They won’t be here to cuddle with us on the couch.”

He petted the dog’s head, his hands trembling. “They loved you so much. And I promised them that I’d take care of you... but I don’t know how to do that without them.”

Satoru’s voice cracked, the depth of his sorrow palpable. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair to you, either. You’re going to miss them just like I do. But I’ll try my best to make sure you’re okay.”

The dog licked his face gently, as if trying to comfort him in return. Satoru held onto him tightly, feeling the warmth. It was a small, yet poignant reminder of the life he had to keep going for, even amidst his grief.

As he sat there on the floor, the dog resting its head on his lap, Satoru’s tears began to subside. He took deep, shuddering breaths, drawing solace from this moment.

He gently stroked the dog’s fur. “We’re going to get through this, hm?” he said quietly.

As the evening wore on, Satoru and the dog remained there, the quiet company offering a small reprieve from the overwhelming grief. In the solitude of the house that now felt emptier than ever. He finds the paper cranes. You finished most of it in the hospital. But you were sure that you made more than a thousand. Tears fall from his eyes.

"Please." He whispered to the gods above. "If there something more than this one. Please tell me that'll continue to be together. Please."