#lost the count on the amount of times I cried writing this

[pepperyduck]

growing old with kento nanami, pt. 2

word count: 3.5k

warnings: having kids, raising kids, naming kids after lost loved ones, descriptions of growing old, like actually growing old and having grandchildren, descriptions of body changes after birth, dad nanami, no angst in this one just living a happy life with husband nanami :3 (18+ mdni!)

notes: i love u all sm, i am giving this man the ending he deserves. now get ready bc i just went through a terrible breakup and must project it in my writing. much love!!!

part 1 | masterlist

nanami watched you with loving eyes as you laid in your hospital bed, exhausted and sleeping so peacefully after the delivery of your baby. your hair stuck to your face in messy patterns from all the sweat, your chest rose and fell on the perfect, comfortable beat. this time, he was sitting in the chair next to your bed, a book open and ready to be read, but kento’s eyes refused to skim the pages – you looked so beautiful. the room was quiet, only the soft buzzing of an air conditioner and beeping from one of the monitors stuck to you would infiltrate the silence. kento paid close mind whenever you began to stir, lightly fluttering your eyes open to look at him, oh so tired.

“good morning, beautiful,” kento cooed, closing his book to rest it on his thigh. he reached out his hand to lay it atop yours, a soft smile grazing his lips when he looked at you.

“hi,” you groaned, slightly rolling over and wincing when the sharp pain began to shoot through your body. kento’s brows furrowed whenever he saw your discomfort.

“how are you feeling?” he asked.

“tired…it hurts,” you muttered, closing your eyes again. kento’s thumb lightly grazed over the back of your hand, tracing the veins.

kento made sure the nurses that came to check on you administered some pain medicine, and after a while, you began to not be in as much torment as before. you were told you could go home in a day or two, after the pain subsides and the baby is evaluated to be in good health.

kento pushed you down the hallway in a wheelchair towards the nursery, and politely asked to see your baby. you cried so many tears of joy the moment your baby boy was settled in your arms, swaddled in a hospital blanket and sleeping gently. he was so beautiful, a spitting image of his father from the word go. even though he was tiny, and his features weren’t so defined, you could already see the resemblance.

“have you decided on a name yet?” the nurse sweetly asked, clipboard in hand with all your information. you and kento swapped looks for a moment, obviously unprepared for the question. for a minute, you thought in your mind about all the names you discussed, finally landing on one that would be thoughtful and fitting.

“what about ‘yū’ kento?” you suggested, looking up at your husband for his approval.

the gesture of naming his son after his passed best friend made kento a little sad, but he knew haibara would be proud and so happy, so he nodded his head in agreement.

“yes, yū. that’s perfect.”

taking care of such a tiny human came so naturally to kento. he was easily able to balance work on top of making sure the baby was okay. for the first few months, it seemed as if yū would always cry when he was with you, until kento finally would pick him up and settle the baby in his arms. kento had taken an adequate amount of time off from work, working only 3-4 days a week, he made sure you had enough time to rest in between taking care of the baby for days at a time.

after a while, yū began to calm down, reverting into a happy, smiley, giggly baby. you felt more comfortable taking care of him on your own without kento there. so, in return, kento began working even more, picking up his normal 40-hour work week. since you had moved cities, you hadn’t found a stable job yet, but that was okay. because kento wanted to take care of you. he wanted to be the one to take care of his family.

so, you let him. he provided as much as possible for you and your child, all the while ensuring he wasn’t overworking himself in the process. he wanted to live a happy life, after all, he was never going to revert back to the ways of his 24-year-old self; working impossible hours and remaining exhausted 24/7.

since yū had began to grow older, hitting the year-old mark in the blink of an eye, you came to realize that you only took care of him. not that you minded, of course, you loved your baby. but you were less active, and it showed on your body. more and more, you looked in the mirror to find the pregnancy weight still latched on to you, the body you once had just didn’t seem to be there. you knew your husband should be the one to talk about insecurities, sure, but with all the surgeries he went through, and all he did to improve his health; you thought he looked just as ravishing as the day you met him. he did look just as handsome, even with the scars covering half of his body. he was simply a beautiful man.

and you began to feel undeserving. ugly. lesser than the person you were married to. and for what? because of some baby weight? it was natural. so why did you feel so increasingly terrible about yourself as time went on? you worked out, you stayed as healthy as possible; but it was like nothing was going to let you get back to how you looked before the baby.

you were looking in the mirror in your bathroom, a huge one, just like you dreamed of. but the large size of the mirror only gave you more sight into your own reflection. a reflection that filled you with disgust. you frowned at the weird shape and size of your tummy, or at least the shape you thought was weird, and the way your face seemed chubbier, and your thighs had grown in size.

“hey, honey,” kento greeted you, walking around the frame of the bathroom door. his sights were immediately infiltrated with the picture of his gorgeous wife, with her sleep shorts tugged down below her stomach, endearing stretchmarks littering the skin that once carried his beloved son.

you tugged your shorts up quickly and replied to him, “hi, kento.” with a quick turn on your heel and a step forward, you planted a light peck on his lips. he smiled down at you, eyes glittering with the very glimpse of such a beautiful woman.

“what are you doing?” he asked, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you close. you sort of slumped your body against him, resting a head on his shoulder, and you sighed.

“do you think i look…different now?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the question, blurting it out as you rested against your husband. he pulled you away and rested his hands on your waist to look you in the eyes.

“what do you mean, hm?” kento’s thumbs grazed up and down your soft skin.

you looked back into the mirror, frowning once more at the silhouette your body created. with a pitiful tone, you began to speak, “my body. ever since i had yū, it’s just been…ugly. i feel ugly.” you described yourself with one of the most hurtful words and caused kento’s eyebrows to furrow as he looked at you.

ugly? how dare his own wife speak about his wife that way. because, in his eyes, you were the most breathtaking individual on the planet. in the universe, actually. sure, he had noticed the changes of your body – the changes that came from you growing a human being inside of you, single-handedly giving him the best gift he’s ever received. if anything, he loved the changes of your body, somehow your skin became even softer to him, contrasting his rough hands perfectly.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized, noticing your husband’s glare once you looked back up at him. he shook his head.

“don’t apologize, i understand.” kento comforted you, bringing a sweet hand up to your cheek to pull you in for a soft kiss. once he pulled back, he ran a thumb over your cheek, “do you want to know what i think, sweetheart?”

brows furrowing, you looked up at him with a confused expression, “think about wh-,” he cut you off with another kiss to the lips. he skimmed his lips over different parts of your face, planting light pecks over all the skin.

“i think,” kento’s lips trailed down your neck slowly, then to each off your shoulders, beginning down one of your arms. “i have,” his kisses didn’t waver as he made his way down your arm, giving a firm kiss to the back of your hand as he held it, kneeling down. “the most,” he smiled up at you before focusing on your tummy, kissing the shirt that laid atop your soft skin, trailing all over your abdomen.

“beautiful wife in the world.”

you giggled at his gesture, the laugh soon faltering because kento’s stare on you was full of complete seriousness. the things that kento thought were always fact, never fiction, you should’ve known that. so yes, what he said was true. it would always be true in his eyes, too. always.

with all the intimacy conjured in the bathroom, that was the night you got pregnant with your second child, a daughter named mayu.

parenthood came with its own highs and lows as your children grew. your daughter loved her father til’ the earths end, always opting to stay under his arm whenever he was home. mayu had taken more of your looks this time, not quite the spitting image like yū was to your husband, but enough to tell that you were her mother. she was full of energy and happiness and took on a sassy personality from a young age. yū, however, was very emotional and laidback compared to his sister. it was quite funny how much their personalities showed, even when they were unable to talk. but as they began to grow up and adopt certain mannerisms, their personalities began to bloom even more.

as kento got older, he had gained just a tiny amount of weight, filling out his muscular form even more. his abs slowly faded with time, turning into a less-defined version of themselves. and your favorite part about kento growing older was his hair. once your children reached 3 and 5, kento had reached a good 35, turning 36 soon, little grey pieces began to pepper themselves into his hairline, shining brightly in between the blonde strands. he began to have small crow’s feet in the outsides of his eyes, and smile lines from the amount of smiling he did with you.

on yū’s first day of school, kento had to hold you as you sniffled back tears, watching your oldest boy walk through the front doors of the school. he held his arm around your shoulders and waved his son off, shushing you and saying he will only be gone until 3 p.m. little did you know, kento had to hold back his own tears, because in that moment he felt so accomplished as a father, even though that was only the beginning of yū’s journey.

not to worry, though, because on mayu’s first day – your husband cried like a baby seeing his daughter walk off into school, nervous for the first time in her life.

the first few years of your children’s school life were smooth sailing. yū and mayu alike made many friends and looked at school in a positive light. you and kento never got tired of their endless stories – about a game they played or a lesson they learned or a book they read. every little art project and 100 on a test decorated the fridge. kento made sure to teach them both about the importance of schooling and how to remain at the top of their class, along with balancing the increasing schoolwork the older they got.

it wasn’t until yū hit middle school that things began to go downhill.

neither you nor kento thought that your children would be able to see curses. only one of you was a sorcerer, and kento was the only one in his family that was able to be a sorcerer, too. but when kento took him to a bakery, yū saw the same creature as his father crawling around on the floor, eliciting an ear-shattering scream – kento felt doomed.

“what do you think we should do?” you questioned, leaning against the counter as your husband sat at the kitchen table, lips pursed beneath intertwined fingers pressed on the lower half of his face.

“i do not want him to be a sorcerer,” kento stated, a stern tone in his voice, “but he…he’s…i don’t know if we can stop it.” your husband sounded defeated at the statement.

he could only ask himself why this had to happen to him of all people; someone that had run away from jujutsu twice now. you and kento both decided to wait until your children were older to explain it all, and where all their uncles and aunts and family friends came from, but at the time, it all seemed inevitable but to give some sort of explanation.

so, of course, he called one of the people he trusted – and now respected – the most.

“nanami!” gojo squealed as soon as the front door was opened, revealing the still tall and lanky satoru. kento seemed to still be annoyed by his presence, yet inside he was thankful for his friend to show up on such short notice. gojo had been around your children some, obviously, but you and kento tried to keep your distance because of how dangerous it all was.

after giving satoru the rundown of the past days’ events, you sent mayu off to a friend’s house and sat yū in the living area with all the adults. until that point, he had no explanation as to what he saw in the bakery. but with ease, just as everything was with gojo, he gave yū the clarification needed to understand he had a special gift, and to use it wisely. kento made up his mind as to not scare your son by telling him about how he got all those scars, saving that for a later date. yū still didn’t understand everything entirely, but ended up having some sort of grasp on his abilities. that was all that was needed.

you and kento collectively decided it would be yū’s choice when he was old enough to decide to become a sorcerer, with the help of gojo, of course.

fortunately, or unfortunately, for mayu, she would end up not having the same abilities as her father. it was sort of a blessing, only having to worry about one kid being raised to fight the second they turned 14.

the years spent waiting for yū to become old enough to decide about jujutsu felt like a ticking time bomb for you and kento. many, many nights were spent in the kitchen, talking endlessly about your concerns but also the upsides to having your son learn under one of kento’s most trusted partners. but the both of you became more honest with your son about the reality of going into jujutsu, the pros and cons of becoming a sorcerer, and how it could both positively and negatively affect his life.

ultimately, though, kento was the most relieved he’d ever been when your son gave his answer about becoming a sorcerer, a few days away from the end of middle school.

“uh, no, dad. it sounds way too dangerous. i want to go to college.” yū’s words came off as that of a normal, moody teenager, but in the end made a weight lift off you and your husband’s shoulders.

they say time flies when you’re having fun, and that was the truest of statements when it came to raising your children with kento. yū’s high school years approached quickly, mayu’s seemingly approached even faster, it was all a rush of images that remained in your head. the sports teams, never missing a thursday night game to cheer on your son from the stands, as he led his soccer team to the regional levels. the first time yū brought a girl home, with you and kento seemingly even more nervous to meet the sweet young lady that attached herself to your son’s arm. prom was so much fun, seeing your husband knot the same printed tie around his son’s neck that he wore in his sorcerer days, before taking a thousand photos of yū and his girlfriend. your son had the most elated, idiotic smile on his face once he opened the door to find his girlfriend dressed to the nines in a stunning dress, the same smile on his face when he came home after a fun night with his friends. and of course, graduation topped it all off, yū standing at the top of his class just like his father. both you and kento had to stifle back tears watching him walk across the stage.

mayu’s high school days were a flash as well, a very fond memory looking back. she remained with the same snappy and sassy personality, just as when she was little. mayu remained close with her father, but began to talk to you as she got older, needing advice for any decision she made. it made you feel like a proud mother, someone she wasn’t embarrassed of because even through her mood swings and bad days, she always found refuge in you. mayu became the student council president by her second year, running every school event like a ship, making sure to always get extra t-shirts for you and kento because you would always show up. while yū was away at college, mayu became your focus as you let your son navigate his way through life.

kento thought he was going to have a heart attack the second his beloved daughter said she had a boyfriend she wanted the both of you to meet. the night that boy rolled up in his car, knocking on the door frantically, kento put on a stern and serious face as he was the one to open the door. mayu came running up behind kento, to no avail, as her boyfriend was already bowing and then shaking your husband’s hand. he politely introduced himself, practically shaking with how intimidated he was by your husband. but the night went on smoothly, you had dinner together and found out more about mayu’s boyfriend and his aspirations. at the end of the night, after he had left and mayu went to bed, kento said he was an, “alright young man,” which was the biggest compliment if you were going to date his daughter.

mayu’s graduation was the time for kento to sob again, seeing his daughter get so much recognition for all she did for the school, feeling like the proudest dad of two children. yū had driven into town, sitting next to you and kento in the stands, a bouquet of flowers for his sister. mayu moved into her dorm only a few weeks later, leaving you and kento in an empty house, riddled with the memories of raising two beautiful, accomplished, important and thriving children.

it all went by too fast.

after your birds had successfully left the nest, you and kento spent all your time together once again. the days would mix up as he began to work less and less to prepare for his retirement. time flew by, aging you and your husband both, the wrinkles becoming delicately pronounced each year, the grey hairs eventually taking over all the blonde in his head. you spent your time reading, baking, and most of all, traveling as soon as kento’s last day at work hit.

you flew all around the world, visiting the most gorgeous and diverse cities alike, emerging yourselves in all the different cultures, practices, and kento’s favorite part – the food. you visited malaysia with him again, just as you did on your honeymoon, the love you felt all those years ago still present within you both. you walked along the beaches and toured all the spots you favorited on your honeymoon again.

your life with kento nanami was beautiful.

you lay in bed with your husband at your side, his peaceful yet loud snores endearing as he sleeps so soundly. tomorrow, your 25th wedding anniversary will be here. you’ll walk out on the porch of the beautiful condo kento bought after retirement with a cup of coffee for him. you’ll read a book as your husband basks in the view of the beach he longed for all his life. your children and their spouses will drive in around afternoon, and spend the weekend with you both, letting you get time in with yū’s new baby, your grandchild. you will mingle, laugh, maybe cry and reminisce in all the memories you and your husband built up over the course of decades. your house will be loud with the sounds of kids and family and friends, all there to celebrate the life you’ve had with your husband.

even if kento were to die the next day, or in a year, or in 10 years, something would always remain true.

kento nanami had successfully spent his life with his true love.

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee @lagataprrr @ourfinalisation @ynniksslirg

let me know if you want to be added!

[l-uminescent]

˚⁀➷｡˚ REVENGE [PART TWO TO KINSLAYER] ━━━ AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM! READER

part one.

synopsis: following your brave defeat of aemond targaryen in the battle of rook’s rest, your dragon silverwing delivers your body back to your mother in dragonstone. as you are discovered, a swearing of revenge is made as your body burns in its funeral pyre.

request: kinslayer is so good. would you ever write a little drabble to see the sadness of her family. especially her mother? also to see how this changed the dance. would you ever write a different ending? where before she fell silverwing saves her. like toothless did with hiccup. i adore it and need more. only if you want to of course.

notes: a bit longer than a drabble but i hope you enjoy anyways😭 thank you sm also to @dracaryxzs @hikaerys @delightfulbluebirdtidalwave & @quickamateur for requesting a part two of the black’s reaction to the reader’s death. i had so much fun exploring what the characters would feel like, esp jacaerys. tbh i don’t think i would write an alternative ending bc i just love writing angst wayyyy too much (it’s a problem)

there’s also a lack of jacaerys requests in my inbox which i think you should all fix by pressing here!

warnings: brief descriptions & mentions death, funeral pyre, angst, feelings of sadness after a death of loved one, burning, self-blame

word count: 1.9k

THE SHRIEKING SCREAM OF SILVERWING WAS THE ONLY THING THAT COULD BE HEARD FOR MILES. it was a shriek of pure pain, a cut wedged so deep had made its home in the poor dragon's heart as she had no choice but to watch on as you plunged your sword into aemond targaryen's eye. silverwing had tried her hardest to swoop down and rescue your body as both you and the man you loved plummeted to the ground in each other's arms. your limbs were intertwined with aemond's, your soul's holding the same love they had held many years ago in your final moments.

your body had crashed to the forest floor from the great height, dying immediately - still weaved with aemond's.

another heart-wrenching scream was heard from silverwing as the bond you two had shared had completely severed with your death. all she could do now was search the forest for you and bring back your fractured body to your mother. 

silverwing had gently picked up your body in her claws, so not to bring you anymore damage than the fall had done. she had completely disregarded the body of your previous lover, sword still plunged in his eye. small whimpers left her body as she rose slowly into the air flying back to dragonstone, having lost another rider had left the dragon in an immense amount of pain as you had reminded her greatly of the good queen alyssane, her first rider.

aegon having fled the battle the moment he had witnessed aemond's death had left rhaenys velaryon, your grandmother, with too little time to come to your aid. piercing cries escaped her lips as she could do nothing but watch you fall to your death. knowing this is what you had wanted still did not heed the tears that escaped her lilac eyes, nor did it stop the blame she held for herself as she accompanied your dragon back to dragonstone, wishing over and over that it had been her instead of you, something she knew she would wish until the end of her days. 

the shrieks of pain silverwing had let out alerted the dragon's on the island as she drew near. many stirred at the noise in fright, but none seemed to be as fretted as vermax, who had replied to silvering's bellow with one in return.

with the sound of her two children's dragon's shrieks, rhaenyra knew something was wrong. her gut instinct had told her something had happened to you, as jace remained safely within the castle. rushing to her balcony, she fixed her gaze intently across the sea for any sign of you, holding her breath as she noticed silverwing's flapping wings over the horizon. as she drew closer rhaenyra's eyes scanned her saddle, and noticing you weren't atop it her eyes flickered hastily down to her trembling claws. 

she was clutching your lifeless body. 

tears streamed down rhaenyra's face as she fell to the ground. uncontrallable sobs left her lips as her body violently shook in pain. admitting defeat she crumbled against the pillars of her balcony. as she did, her eyes bore into the sky above that painted in blues purples and oranges alike. she cursed at all the gods she could as it dawned on her this was what the sky held when lucerys had died just moons before. no amount of screams or curses at both the green's and gods would ever stop the blame that rhaenyra held for herself for your death, she knew you were not ready for battle yet she still sent you anyway. 

your heart still held onto the embers of girlhood which was seen in the way you teased jace, the joy you found when you played with your younger brother's and the soft smiled that adorned your lips as she combed and braided your hair with a gold plated brush. you were too young to pass. you were meant to outlive her, to live a happy life with a husband and children who you adored - something you would never get to do it now. rhaenyra's painful screams were carried off into the wind, her grief-stricken body stuck to the place she had fallen, as her gaze at the sky hardened. she swore that whatever force had killed you would be killed in return. she knew it would never bring you back, her only daughter was gone from this world, but she needed for herself to seek revenge in your name.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

it had been jacaerys who had went to greet your dragon. the poor boy did not realise anything was amiss at first. he trodded happily down to your dragon to congratulate you on your first victory, proud of his younger sister. it wasn't until he noticed silverwing's sad demeanour, how her entire body trembled in despair, curled up into a ball not allowing any guard to pass through the wall she had made. as jace approached the dragon she murmured a small cry as she began to uncurl, the strange behaviour making his mind run rampant and tears start to prickle in his eyes.

no. no.

it was only a matter of seconds before jace's knees buckled, falling to floor where you lay stretched out on the floor. 

he couldn't believe it, you were so full of life only a mere few hours ago. 

reaching for you, he pulled your head onto his lap, cradling your body as he did. he couldn't stop the tears that poured from his cheeks landing softly on your skin, as sobs erupted from his lips. he had hoped in some delusional way, that you would somehow awake, that if he just stayed by your side cradling you, you would return and call him stupid for worrying so much.

the pain of lucerys had returned tenfold. he was meant to protect you, you were his younger sister for gods sake, only a year between the two of you, you had been as thick as theives. always teasing each other, throwing food across the table when petty arguments broke out. the two of you had stuck by each other's sides as you became aware of the questions that arose from the colour of your hair when luke was still too young to understand. you were meant to stay by his side, he had long since planned to make you his hand as you had always been there as his biggest advisor - the person he had trusted most in this world.

jacaerys like his mother, blamed himself. he should have been their to protect you, because that's what brother's are for, right?

there was no doubt he was a targaryen in that moment. his wetted eyes dried with a rage he had never felt before. he too swore at the sky, cursing every green, every god who had willed your fate, his voice breaking as he did. jacaerys did not care what life lay ahead of him in that moment, being heir was long from his mind as he bellowed that he would exact your revenge even if it meant he would die too. 

shallow breathes were taken as he brought his brown eyes onto your closed ones, still laying still in his lap. his anger had quickly faded at the sight of you again, his chest vibrating as he struggled to regain oxygen into his lungs. the softer side of jacaerys velaryon had once more returned as he allowed his forehead to rest against your cold one. his hands absentmindedly began to run through your hair, whispering soft "it will be okay" and "i love you's" as the tears silently fell from his glassy eyes, unsure of whether it was to reassure himself or you.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

rain drops fell from the sky in a heavy rhythm, landing in small plops the cliff side where your family gathered for small funeral pyre after your body had be retrieved. it had been jacaerys who had suggested the place, knowing how you and luke had enjoyed coming up to sit peacefully and read together. 

the somber mood was evident as the rain continued to poor from the sky, each person having their heart ripped out from their chest all over again as they looked upon you body. you had almost looked like you were sleeping if it wasn't for the fact you had turned a sickly pale colour, and your chest failing to rise and fall with the inhale and exhale of oxygen.

the group of targaryen's, velaryon's and silverwing the dragon, gathered around the small wooden pyre as they said their final goodbye's to you. daemon had approached the wooden frame, placing the sword your drove deep into your lover's eye next to you that he had managed to retrieve. he hadn't been aware of how much the sword had meant to you, but to him it showed the fierce love and protection he had felt. despite not being his own daughter, he had loved you like one - always taking the time to teach you the art of sword fighting despite the other knight's looking down on it. he returned to his wife's side who nodded him in gratitude for loving her little girl the way a father should.

tears threatened to spill from jacaerys glassy eyes as he began to approach your body next, his hand clutched little joffrey's who was still too small to understand where his elder sister had left to and why she had yet to return. he had placed the letter's the two of you had exchanged when he had visited the north, the fascination you had for the wall had always brought a smile to his lips when you had asked him questions. even now, a watery smile played on his lips thinking of it as he returned to his place next to his mother. 

small sniffles could also be heard from the two targaryen girls - rhaena and baela - who stood on the opposite end of the pyre, the two girls reminiscing on the time you did spend together talking about boys, and giggling as you gossiped whilst sewing. their grandmother stood tall next to them as she gripped both their hands tightly, grounding herself with the thought that you would have wanted her to project the love she had for you onto your two cousins whom you had loved deeply.

the last to approach the pyre was your mother. her silent demeanour had been an obvious sign that her sadness had been replaced by a vicious anger that would not be calmed. leaning over the wood, she had placed the gold plated hair brush next to you, the very one she had combed your dark locks earlier that day creating the style you had always favoured, recalling how you had always begged her to do whilst you were still alive. 

rhaenyra's lips left a ghost of a kiss on your forehead before she stepped back. calling silverwing forward in high valyrian, the dragon let out a number of whimpers and cries as she knew what came next. 

"dracarys"

a single tear drop shed from rhaenyra's eyes as she turned away from the burning embers, her promise of revenge at the forefront of her mind. 

"broken by the loss of one son, rhaenyra targaryen seemed to find new strength in the loss of a second. her eldest daughter's death hardened her, burning away her fears, leaving only her anger and her hatred."

[huggingkoalas]

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!retiredavenger!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ natasha loses you three times in the worst way possible

word count — ‧₊˚ 6.6k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ angst, no happy ending, mentions of alcohol consumption, breaking up, cursing, mentions of cheating, pet names, car accident, panic attacks, jealousy, medical rooms, amnesia, mentions of therapy

authors note — ‧₊˚ yes, this was a series. i’ve decided this multi-chapter into a oneshot instead because of how much this fic has emotionally affected me :’) this fic means a lot to me but it’s also a reminder of someone really dear to me that i lost recently. i’ve lost count of how many times i cried while writing the ending, and i’m so sorry if the ending seems rushed </3

Natasha was always full of confidence, loyalty and fierceness. She never backed down from a fight, especially excelling in close hand-to-hand combat where her ability was intimidating. Ruthless and exceptionally efficient and skilled at her job, she struck fear into anyone who had the misfortune to cross the Black Widow’s path.

But that was at work. And at home? There was a big difference. While her enemies were always on their knees at the end of a fight, begging her for mercy to spare their lives, she was on her knees this time. Natasha Romanoff — one of the founding members of the Avengers, an agent of S.H.I.E.LD., a professional assassin and your wife — was currently on her knees, begging for your forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, moya lyubov’ (my love). Forgive me, please.” She begged, tears gathering in her eyes. 

Your shadow loomed over the kneeling redhead. Holding your breath and trying to keep your tears at bay, you pursed your lips together, not trusting yourself to speak in a steady voice.

“Please, I’ll do anything.” With trembling hands on her lap, Natasha glanced up at your face. She couldn’t control a sob breaking out from her throat as she saw the saddened expression on your face. 

“Am I… not important to you anymore?” You spoke in a quiet voice.

“I…-” With eyes filled with tears, she struggled to find the right words to explain herself. Despite her strength and confidence, Natasha looked vulnerable, almost broken, before you. 

“Where were you tonight? Drinking with Bruce and Thor again?” You asked with a shaky breath.

The answer was already clear before Natasha even spoke. There was a faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air, a reminder of her downward spiral in recent months. It pained you to witness the transformation, to see the woman you loved slipping further and further away with each passing day. She had been arriving home late consistently, often in an intoxicated state. Her presence during evenings became a rarity, and you would find yourself sleeping alone in the shared bed at night, longing for the warmth of her presence. You didn’t get to see her in the mornings, too — despite consuming a large amount of alcohol the night prior, Natasha would, without fail, rise early for work the next day before you woke up.

Two months. Two months of Natasha repeating the same apologies. Two months of you backing down every single time and forgiving her when you saw her vulnerable expression. The redhead was truly your weakness, your Achilles heel. Even after she would pour her heart out to you, the same phrases ‘I promise I won’t drink again’ and ‘this is the last time, I swear’, she’d just return to the bar the next day, drinking to her heart’s content. It was as if she’d forgotten her promises to change. As if she had no remorse for her actions, or care for your feelings.

You missed snuggling up beside her after a long day, your head in the crook of her neck as you smelled the familiar vanilla shampoo in her hair. You missed the feeling of her heartbeat against your chest and the softness of her breath against your skin. These days, the smell of alcohol replaced the comforting and soothing scent you were used to. 

While Natasha’s current vulnerability displayed her remorse and pain you’d never seen before, you wanted another kind of vulnerability — one where she was there for you and prioritised you first. You longed for her comfort, her reassurance as she held you close and whispered words of love in your ear. 

With an exhausted sigh, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of even more disappointment at the sight of the two untouched plates of home-cooked beef stroganoff on the dining table. The tantalising aroma of the beef stroganoff now made you nauseous. It bitterly reminded and mocked you of your meticulous efforts to please your wife. The once-warm meal lay cold since you plated them up three hours ago while you waited for Natasha to return home. Accompanying the two plates were two empty wine glasses, a softly lit candle, and an unopened bottle of red wine. And in the refrigerator sat a baking tray of lemon meringue pie from Natasha’s favourite bakery.

Today held a significant meaning — It marked the second wedding anniversary with the love of your life, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Throughout the day, you spent hours pouring your heart and soul into preparing each slice of tenderloins as you made the beef stroganoff. Cooking wasn’t your forte, you had to learn how to cook it from websites.

And to add salt to the injury, she never even bothered to return home early, preferring to drown herself in alcohol at the bar with Bruce and Thor.

You thought that if you cooked her favourite dish and bought her favourite dessert, Natasha would come home instead of getting wasted at the bar, right? You were sorely mistaken. You had even persistently messaged her all day, excitedly telling her about the candlelit dinner you had carefully planned for the evening. However, all of your texts went unanswered.

You almost found amusement and humour in your naïvety.

“Y/N/N?” Natasha barely whispered. Her vulnerability differed from the loving and confident person you fell in love with.

“I need some time apart to figure things out, Natasha.” It had been some time since you uttered her full name, always preferring to call her ‘Natty’ or, your personal favourite, ‘sunshine’. 

A pang of sorrow tugged at your heart, for Natasha had truly been your sunshine once upon a time. In the beginning, she had truly been like a ray of sunlight, her sweet smile had the power to brighten even the gloomiest of days, her laughter your favourite melody. And now, as you stood before her, the Natasha you once knew and loved had become a distant memory. She was a shadow of her former self, almost unrecognisable to you. She was no longer your sunshine, but a raincloud that drenched you in loneliness and despair.

Your fingers instinctively played with the wedding ring adorning your left hand, tracing its edges and rolling it around your finger to alleviate your anxiety as you awaited her next words. You expected her to refuse and deny your words, to tell you that she needed you in her life, but all you got from her was a single word — “okay.”

Her answer made you scoff.

“That’s it? All I get is an ‘okay’?” You seethed, your hands clenched into tight fists as you let anger consume your words. It was as if your weight of frustration, loneliness and insecurities exploded, the pent-up emotions finally erupting into words. “Did you ever take this relationship seriously, Natasha? Was I nothing more to you than a warm body when you had nightmares and decent fuck when you were horny?” 

“I-I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way.” Natasha’s voice wavered as she struggled to find the right words.

“I can’t take this anymore.” You declared, the words spilling from your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Fuck you, Natasha, I’m leaving. Forget taking a break — I never want to see your face again. I wish I had never met you.”

The hurt and shock in her eyes were unmistakable, but you did not regret your harsh words. You’d finally had enough. Enough of her unkept promises, her lies. Her actions spoke louder than words. The silence that followed afterwards was deafening. Natasha looked down, avoiding eye contact with you.

You slid your wedding ring off your finger, using more force than usual as you placed it on the coffee table. The sound of it hitting the table echoed loudly throughout the room. Instead of feeling a weight off your shoulders, a gnawing sense of anxiety and disappointment bubbled in your stomach. 

Is this the end of your marriage?

You love, no, loved Natasha, and the weight of the one-sided relationship had become too much for you to bear alone. You wondered if she ever truly cared about you in the first place, or if you were only a distraction from her busy life as an Avenger. You had a nagging feeling that, maybe, she was unsatisfied with being in love with an Avenger-turned-housewife. Maybe she preferred someone like Bruce? You shook your head as the image of Bruce surfaced in your mind. Aware of his crush on your wife, you could not help but wonder if Natasha, had developed feelings for him and hesitated to break your heart with the truth.

Maybe that’s why she’s been spending time with Bruce at the bar.

Was her love ever real then?

And with that, you turned away. You stood before the door, your hand hesitating over the doorknob. You expected Natasha to intervene and stop you from leaving. With a hesitant glance back at her, you observed her entire frame convulsing with sobs, making it even harder to walk away.

You stepped out the door as you couldn’t bear to witness the pain in your favourite green eyes any longer. You knew leaving was the right thing to do, even if it tore you apart inside. As you settled into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the familiar driveway, the haunting image of Natasha’s tear-streaked face lingered in your mind

You had to get far, far away from Natasha. The only other person you could trust is Wanda, your ex-girlfriend and another Avenger. She would be able to comfort you with her soothing presence and words. Tears welled in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks as you navigated the familiar streets to Wanda’s house. The turn of events weighed heavily on your mind, and millions of questions ran through your head.

Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the traffic light blaring red ahead. A car from the opposite direction ran right towards you, its glaring light blinding your vision with its intensity. With a sharp breath intake, the tyres’ screeching sound filled the air as you braced yourself for impact.

It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours that Natasha knelt on the wooden floor after you left the house. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. All she knew was that her heart ached. It was as if someone had reached into her chest, grabbed her heart, and thrown it across the room without any care.

She felt overwhelmed. The air felt thick and made it hard for her to breathe as waves of panic coursed through her. She lay in a fetal position, her knees to her chest and her forehead on the floor. Her trembling hands clutched at her chest, desperately trying to calm the racing beats of her heart. Her body could not stop convulsing as tears streamed down her face, blurring the surroundings around her. 

Every shallow breath she expelled felt painful, and she felt like she was anchored to the cold ground beneath her. It was as if the room was spinning, and the walls were closing in, trapping her in endless suffering. The ache in her chest mirrored the shattering of her heart.

The events that happened after she came home drunk had sobered her up quickly, and all she felt now was a hollow emptiness. Natasha felt like a complete asshole. She had taken advantage of your kindness and patience and trampled all over it. She took you for granted, and now she was alone in the place she called home.

Home. It was merely a house, but the treasured memories the two of you shared with love and affection made it a home.

Once the waves of a panic attack passed, she craned her neck up to glance around her surroundings. The singular candle you prepared for the candlelit dinner was still burning on the dining table, illuminating the dimly lit living room. Even with the blinds drawn over the windows, she could see outside enough to gauge that sunrise was coming soon.

Unexpectedly, the voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y. shattered the silence as it echoed through the house. “Agent Natasha Romanoff, please come to the Avengers Compound as quickly as possible.” 

Natasha groaned softly in response, slowly getting on her feet cautiously. Her knees and arms ached as she got her balance, a painful reminder of how she spent the night in an uncomfortable position.

Even when she chose to live separately from the Avengers, Tony insisted he installed F.R.I.D.A.Y. into the home for ‘extra’ security. A sense of unease gnawed at her. She rarely got an announcement from the A.I. unless necessary, such as an emergency or a last-minute mission.

“Did something happen?” She called out to the A.I., her voice cracking and hoarse from the crying.

“Y/N Romanoff is in the hospital wing, she has suffered critical injuries from a car accident,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied promptly.

Panic surged through her body as she quickly shed last night’s attire. With each distressed movement, thoughts of how badly hurt you were raced through her mind. 

Shit. What has she done?

Natasha barged through the doors of the infirmary in the Avengers Compound, her eyes surveying the all-too-familiar place. There were countless times when she had to prioritise tending to her wounds in the infirmary after missions instead of debriefing. The place buzzed with the hum of fluorescent lights, and the antiseptic smell in the air nauseated her. She approached the first medical professional in her sightline, a male nurse.

“Bring me to Y/N Romanoff’s room, now.” She ordered, grabbing the nurse’s uniform collar in a tight fist.

The nurse’s hands struggled under her grasp, choking out. “Y-Yes, Agent Romanoff. This way.” 

Letting go of his collar, the male nurse quickly led her down the hallways to your room in fear of angering the assassin further. Her heart raced as she followed behind him, not prepared for how wounded you would look after the car accident. As Natasha entered the room, her fears were confirmed as she saw you. You were lying on the hospital bed, pale and fragile, while hooked up to multiple wires and machines that monitored your every heartbeat and breathing. Your whole body was covered with bandages and bruises, and the sight of your unconscious body supplemented the guilt in her gut.

“Agent Romanoff, we’ve done X-rays, CT scans and an MRI of her body. She has multiple transverse fractures on her clavicle and pelvic bone. She’s suffered a traumatic brain injury from the car accident, and she’s been comatose ever since.”

Before she could question him further, the nurse quickly left the room. She huffed in annoyance. Shrugging off the encounter with the medical professional, she approached your bedside hesitantly, sitting on the chair beside the bed. Taking your cold hand in hers, her index and middle fingers quickly found the pulse point on your wrist. 

Your pulse was weak. 

Tears welled up in Natasha’s eyes, threatening to spill as she whispered through choked sobs, her voice trembling with emotion “It’s all my fault, I-I’m so sorry. Please, wake up.”

Natasha needed you alive and conscious. Without you, she felt lost, like she was swimming adrift in an endless sea. Her thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind. She felt like her world had become even greyer. She traced the contours of your face with her eyes as if trying to memorise every detail that made you uniquely you. All she could do was hope and pray that you would wake up soon to forgive her and give her one last chance to fix everything.

Days turned into weeks into months. It’d been two months since you got into a coma. Two months since she’d heard her favourite voice. Two months of replaying the same scene the day she lost you.

The indifference in your voice. Your disappointed expression. The smell of beef stroganoff. The sound of your wedding ring placed on the coffee table. The sound of the door clicking behind you as you left the house.

Two months felt like two years to Natasha. With each passing moment, the vital signs monitor played the steady rhythm of your heartbeat in the medical room. Natasha refused to leave your side for even a moment. She was scared that you would flatline if she tore her eyes away from your body. She was like a bodyguard around you — keeping her eyes on your body even when her body was begging for sleep.

After Nick Fury heard about your current condition, he immediately gave Natasha time off from missions to allow her to prioritise your well-being. She was thankful for Nick Fury’s understanding.

Everyone in the Avengers recognised the toll it was taking on Natasha’s well-being. Wanda took it upon herself to bring the redhead meals and encourage her to shower and step outside for fresh air. Wanda would remind her that you wouldn’t want her to neglect her own needs. Despite being curious about what had happened that night, the brunette never pressed her for answers. It was obvious that the wounds were still fresh. Natasha always looked miserable whenever Wanda entered the medical room every day. The both of them would take turns taking care of you. Even when Natasha knew about your past romantic relationship with Wanda, she trusted her the most amongst all the other Avengers to take care of you when she had other matters to attend to.

Natasha felt a deep loneliness she couldn’t shake off that only your awakening could dispel. She clung to the glimmer of hope that each passing moment brought you closer to waking up. With every conversation with Dr. Cho telling her that your body was recovering well, her heart swelled with optimism. She would find a twinge of happiness in the gentle rhythm of the rise and fall of your chest.

When alone with you, Natasha would mindlessly talk to you, sharing stories of her day and reminding you that she loved you. Even when you were unconscious, she never failed to greet you every day with an ‘I love you’. She read your favourite books, played your favourite songs and whispered words of love, hoping you could somehow hear her. She’d stopped going to the bar and getting herself intoxicated, she knew that she had to be there for you.

Night after night, when Natasha’s body was too exhausted to stand vigil, she would drift off to sleep with her head resting on the edge of your bed. The position was far from comfortable, but the discomfort mattered little to her. All that mattered was being near you and being the first person you see when you wake up, even if it meant sacrificing her comfort.

And then, one day, as the first rays of dawn bathed the room in a warm glow, you woke up. Natasha was asleep when you aroused from your coma, and she stirred awake by the twitch from your hand intertwined with hers.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, a soft whine leaving your throat as you met her tear-filled gaze. A wave of relief washed over Natasha, but your eyes widened in panic and alarm as you saw the redhead in front of you.

“W-Who the fuck are you?”

Natasha swore she could hear a pin drop from the silence in the room. The green eyes, previously full of hope, reflected a mixture of disappointment and pain. Speechless, Natasha met your stunned gaze as she took her time to process your words.

“W-Where am I?” You mumbled in a hoarse voice. 

Your eyes tried to adjust to the blinding light of the overhead lights as your consciousness slowly reawakened. A frown formed on your face as your eyes scanned every corner of the medical room. One of the surrounding machines beeped steadily, indicating that your vital signs were stable. You scratched your head and tried to remember how you ended up in the hospital, but you can’t.

Natasha picked up the glass of water from the nightstand and offered it to you with trembling hands. You drank the water thirstily, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.

“It’s me, Natasha, your wife. Don’t you remember?” She began, moving her chair closer to your bed. “You’re at the Avengers Compound. You’ve been in a coma for a while.”

“I... Have a wife?” Aside from the fact that you were in an infirmary, the fact that you were married to someone surprised you more. You studied the features of the redhead sitting in front of you — the sense of familiarity tugged at the edges of your consciousness. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, we got married two years ago,” Natasha explained, her tone as soothing as possible.

“But... my girlfriend, Wanda.” You said, tilting your head to the side. “Where is she?”

Natasha’s hands shot up to cover her mouth as her eyes watered. She rose from the chair and stepped away from her bed. The room felt like it was closing in on her. Her hands became clammy, and each breath was laboured as her heart raced. A relentless drumbeat echoed in Natasha’s ears.

Was this a nightmare? 

The impulse to reach out and grab your hand, a source of comfort that calmed her down, surged within her. Yet, she hesitated.

You appeared as the body of the person Natasha had fallen in love with years ago when you were just eighteen and freshly recruited into the Avengers team. The both of you had a rocky start — she was your enemy first before she became your friend and eventually your lover. However, that chapter was a long time ago as you had retired from the front lines upon marrying her.

As Natasha observed you, a sense of unease settled within her. There wasn’t the same warmth she once found in your eyes. Instead, an unfamiliar emptiness stared back at her. The very gaze that used to ignite with love and affection now held an empty void — The same expression as the day when you broke up with her. Natasha clung to the hope that your memory would somehow seamlessly reweave themselves back into your consciousness, dispelling the thoughts that she was staring at a stranger disguised as her wife.

You wrinkled your nose as you awaited her response. You tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but your muscles weakened from inactivity and failed you. You winced as you felt a sharp pain in your chest.

“Don’t strain yourself.” Natasha’s voice was laced with concern. She gently guided you to remain lying down. “I should get Dr. Cho. Stay here, don’t move.”

Before you could formulate a response, she hurried out of the room. As Natasha disappeared from your view, her heart sank as she realised the extent of your memory loss. She should have expected this — Dr. Cho did briefly inform her about how you might experience a few symptoms of memory loss due to the brain injury.

But damn, did your words hit hard.

As Natasha hurried down the corridor, a nagging sense of guilt held her down. Was your memory loss a form of karma for her past actions? Or perhaps a second chance to rebuild things with you? Even though you had effectively cut ties with her moments before the accident, she wanted to be there for you every step of the way. Was she going to tell you what had happened mere minutes before your car accident? No, not yet. Her focus had to be on providing support during your rehabilitation.

She couldn’t bear to lose you again.

The intensity of her emotions became even more palpable as Natasha approached the nurses’ station. Two familiar figures gradually became apparent in the distance, Dr. Cho and Wanda. Both of them were engaged in an animated conversation, but they stopped when they saw the dread on Natasha’s face.

“Y/N’s awake.” Natasha relayed.

Entering the hospital room as a trio, your eyes ignited with a mix of relief and recognition as you saw Wanda.

“Hey there, sweetheart. I missed you.” You greeted Wanda with a wide grin.

As those words slipped from your lips, Natasha’s heart tightened in response. It was a term you had reserved only for her before the accident. On the other hand, Wanda could only manage a warm smile, waving at you. Wanda was unsure of how to respond to the term you used to call her when the both of you were dating.

“Y/N, it’s great to see you awake.” Dr. Cho chimed in, trying to ease the atmosphere. With a clipboard in hand, she flipped through your medical records. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… confused. What happened to me?” You asked.

Natasha quickly jumped in. “You were in a car accident two months ago.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Car accident? But I don’t remember anything.” 

Wanda, sensing the discomfort in the room, stepped forward. “It’s okay, Y/N. The important thing is that you’re awake now. Natasha and I are here for you.”

In response, you graced Wanda with an endearing smile. Your hand extended, seeking and finding Wanda’s. You seemed to be reassured by her presence and physical touch. Natasha, observing the scene, couldn’t help but feel a subtle pang of jealousy. She pushed it aside, reminding herself that you were only acting this way because of the memory loss.

“We’re all here to help you remember,” Natasha spoke softly. 

As your eyes flickered between the two women, there was a spark of love in your eyes as you glanced at Wanda. However, when your gaze turned toward Natasha, the same reserved void of distance was in your eyes.

“Do you remember anything else before the car accident?” Dr. Cho inquired, her pen poised over the pages as she wrote down your responses.

“No…?” You responded tentatively, a furrow forming on your forehead.

“Alright. Firstly, what’s your current profession?” Dr. Cho probed.

“I’m a retired Avenger.” You uttered, unconsciously tightening your grip on Wanda’s hand.

“Your age?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Do you remember these two?” Dr. Cho redirected your attention, pointing to Natasha and Wanda.

“Wanda’s my girlfriend. I don’t remember who the other person is.” You confessed, looking at Natasha with a raised eyebrow.

Natasha crossed her arms, feeling uncomfortable under your gaze.

“Very well. Your cooperation is appreciated, Y/N.” Dr. Cho acknowledged you with a nod, turning her attention to the two other women. “Agent Romanoff and Agent Maximoff, may I talk to the both of you in my office for a few minutes?”

Natasha and Wanda exchanged an apprehensive glance before nodding in unison, accompanying the doctor out of the room. In Dr. Cho’s office, both women settled into chairs opposite her desk, their postures stiff. Dr. Cho wasted no time, closing the door to her office with a decisive click before taking her seat behind the desk.

“I’ll need to ask Y/N more questions later to confirm the type of amnesia she’s experiencing. Based on the questions earlier, there’s a high chance she’s experiencing systematized amnesia.” Leaning forward, Dr. Cho rested her elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “It’s a type of amnesia that happens when an individual experiences long-term stress or trauma. It can be from experiencing physical, sexual or emotional neglect and abuse. In response, the brain blocks out all memories about that one specific person from their past.”

Dr. Cho’s statement made Natasha’s mind spin. Wanda gripped the armrests tightly, her eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and concern. “Is that why she remembers me, and not Natasha?”

“Exactly.” She paused, turning her attention to Natasha. “Agent Romanoff, have you ever… hit your wife?”

“What? No, of course not.” Natasha replied with an exasperated shake of her head. “But… We did argue before the car accident. I haven’t been spending time with her and I was too busy drinking at the bar to spend time with her on the day of our second anniversary. She broke up with me before she got into the car accident.”

Wanda’s anger flared, her fists clenched by her sides as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “So the reason she got into a car accident is because of you?” She accused. “What the fuck, Natasha.” 

Natasha drew in a deep breath. “I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t know that she’d get into a car accident. I messed up.”

Dr. Cho stepped in. “Emotions run high in situations like these, but our focus should be on helping Y/N recover and helping her navigate through her memory loss. We can’t change the past, but we can make choices to change the future.”

Wanda, her jaw clenched in frustration, couldn’t contain the bitterness in her retort. “Fine, but regret doesn’t undo the damage you’ve done, Natasha. Y/N trusted and loved you, and you let her down. She doesn’t deserve this, and she certainly doesn’t deserve you.” 

Natasha’s lips trembled slightly, struggling to hold back tears.

Wanda, unable to contain her frustration, abruptly pushed her chair back. “I can’t deal with this right now.” 

She stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her. Dr. Cho winced at the resounding sound before sighing. “Let’s regroup later. Wanda needs some time, and we’ll address these issues when everyone’s ready.”

Wanda burst into your medical room, her brows furrowed in deep frustration and a scowl etched across her face. Startled by her sudden entrance, you jumped slightly in your bed, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw her expression.

“Wands?” You whispered. “What’s wrong?”

As you whispered her name, Wanda’s tense expression softened. She approached your bed with slow steps, her hands reaching out to hold yours.

“It’s... It’s nothing, Y/N.” Wanda replied, her voice tight with emotion. 

Despite Wanda’s attempt to dismiss her agitation, you could sense the remaining anger beneath her facade. You furrowed your brow, concern etching your features. 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” You insisted gently, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “You stormed in here looking like you were ready to take on an army.”

Wanda’s lips twitched with a hint of amusement, but the weight of her distress remained evident in her features. She hesitated for a moment, exhaling a breath before finally speaking.

“It’s Natasha,” Wanda admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I just… I don’t know how to handle all of this.”

As much as Wanda wanted to tell you the reason you fell into a coma, she knew that it wasn’t her place to reveal the information without Natasha’s consent. She had to choose her words carefully.

You listened intently, your heart sinking at the mention of Natasha’s name. The complexity of your relationship with her made you feel uncertain and overwhelmed.

How could you be married to someone you couldn’t remember?

“Is Natasha really my wife?” You asked.

You closed your eyes, trying to find any memory that you shared with the woman who was supposedly your wife. But try as you might, your mind remained blank, empty of any intimate or shared memories with the redhead.

Wanda’s expression softened with empathy. “Yes.” She affirmed gently. “Natasha’s your wife.”

“That means you and I… we broke up?” You pressed your lips together, trying not to frown.

“Yeah.” Wanda began, her voice soft but tinged with sadness. "We broke up because I wasn’t ready to become something more. You love Natasha a lot, more than you ever loved me. Even a blind man could see it.”

“Oh.” You sighed, rubbing your thumb over Wanda’s hands. “But… are you sure? Did past me have feelings for you still?”

“Not anymore, Y/N. Your future’s with Natasha now. She loves you a lot and she’s been miserable ever since you got into a coma, so go easy on her, alright?”

Your heart sank at Wanda’s words.

“Alright.” You offered her a bittersweet smile.

A week after waking up, Dr. Cho officially diagnosed you with systematic amnesia. Once you had healed under her careful observation, you were discharged and allowed to return to the home you shared with Natasha. Despite your reluctance to burden her with your care, she was the only one you could depend on. Wanda and the other Avengers had their responsibilities, leaving Natasha as your primary caretaker.

You were still bruising and aching all over, so Natasha assisted you with various miscellaneous tasks, such as managing your medication intake and helping you with showering. Physically, you were improving, but you still couldn’t remember Natasha.

Gradually, you treated her as if she were a stranger. She understood that it wasn’t intentional, but it still tugged at her heartstrings.

The way you flinched whenever she touched you, because she was used to doing it back then when the both of you were together. It pained her deeply. You kept your thoughts and feelings to yourself, not trusting her enough to talk about your feelings. Despite this, outwardly, your interactions with her seemed relatively ‘normal’. The both of you never argued, never fought, and you’d spent time together.

But it still wasn’t the same as it used to be.

Back then, when Natasha would return home from her missions, you’d eagerly rush to her, enveloping her in the tightest hug imaginable and peppering her face with kisses. Now, you greeted her with a tight-lipped smile and a small wave.

In the past, you would cuddle together while watching late-night movies, holding her hand and resting your head on her shoulder. Now, there was a noticeable distance between you, an emotional and physical space that seemed to widen with each passing day.

Natasha tried bringing you to a coffee place — the one she brought you on your first date. You were intrigued, but you still couldn’t remember anything.

Natasha was genuinely happy to see you making progress in your recovery. Yet, beneath that happiness, she was beginning to grow impatient. Your health was improving, but the state of your marriage seemed to deteriorate because you were unable to remember anything about her.

And, one day, Natasha finally reached her breaking point. She had prepared dinner for you, setting the table and waiting patiently on the couch for your return. But you didn’t arrive until three hours later, long after the food had grown cold.

“Where were you?” Natasha’s voice held a sharp edge as she crossed her arms.

You hadn’t mentioned going out, let alone with whom.

“I went out with Wanda for dinner.” You responded casually.

“And you couldn’t text me to let me know?” Natasha’s tone grew more aggressive.

Not only had you essentially stood her up, but you had also gone out with your ex-girlfriend — the same ex-girlfriend you might still harbour feelings for. It was ironic. It felt like the tables had turned. She was the one feeling hurt and frustrated this time.

“My phone was dead. Why are you so angry?” Your voice rose, becoming defensive as you retrieved your phone from your jacket pocket and tossed it onto the dining table.

“Because I made dinner for you.” 

“So what? I can have it for lunch tomorrow.” 

“That’s not the point. I was waiting for you.” Natasha insisted, her tone laced with frustration.

“And I promise I’ll eat it tomorrow. I’m tired, Natasha. I’m going to bed.” You said dismissively, turning away and walking towards the master bedroom.

There was something else changed, too. Natasha took it upon herself to occupy the guest bedroom while you resided in the master bedroom. It felt like there was a mental and physical separation between the both of you.

It continued for months. Natasha almost wanted to give up, contemplating whether to raise the white flag and accept the bitter truth that you would never remember her at all. The constant arguments between you never seemed to resolve. Instead, they ended with either Natasha or you walking away when things got too heated. With time, Natasha felt like the distance between you grew even more larger. You started coming home late, leaving Natasha disappointed as she waited for you to return. Every dinner she prepared for you went unnoticed, adding to her sense of loneliness and frustration. 

Natasha felt as though you had undergone a complete transformation, like someone similar to you but not really, well, you. She was a stranger to you just as you were to her.

You were sitting on a plush chair, engrossed in the pages of a book when she finally accepted defeat. She observed you quietly for a moment, the way you were oblivious to her presence behind her.

“Are we still together?” Natasha asked, her voice breaking the silence.

You looked up to find her standing before you, a mixture of longing and sadness in her gaze. 

You closed the book slowly, placing it on the coffee table.

You chuckled bitterly, a touch of sarcasm lacing your words. “Well, legally, I suppose we are.”

Natasha’s heart sank at your response. She had hoped for affection, but instead, she was met with indifference.

“Do you even want us to be together?” Her voice quivered as she spoke. 

You studied her momentarily, leaning your head back against the headrest as you looked her up and down. Natasha looked miserable, her cheeks caked with dried tears and dark circles under her eyes from sleepless nights. 

“I’m sorry, Natasha.” You murmured, sighing. “I just… I don’t think we’re working out.”

Natasha felt her heart drop at your words. She had feared this moment, dreaded the possibility of hearing those words from you. Yet, the reality of it hit her like a sudden blow.

Your voice cracked as you spoke, barely on the verge of tears. “I tried. I really did try to remember you. Remember I came home late because I told you I was spending time with Wanda? I was walking around the places you brought me to, hoping that I’d remember something, anything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha asked. Her heart clenched at your words and her tears spill over her cheeks.

“Because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t want to disappoint you at the end of the day.” You whispered, standing up from the plush chair and walking over to her. You raised your hand to Natasha’s cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your touch. “I want you, but I don’t think I’m in love with you. You deserve better than this, Natasha. You deserve better than me. You’re not in love with me — You were in love with the me before the accident.”

Natasha closed her eyes, leaning into your touch, a silent plea for reassurance. But as you withdrew your hand, the ache of longing remained. 

Just like how your love was out of touch.

“We can’t keep pretending, Natasha.” You said softly, your voice tinged with regret. “Maybe it’s time we accept that things have changed.”

With a heavy sigh, you turned away, unable to bear the pain of seeing her heartbreak. It pained you to hurt her, but you knew that prolonging the inevitable would only cause more suffering for both of you.

This time Natasha knew that she had to stop you from leaving somehow. She couldn’t make the same mistake twice. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not again. Not for the third time. 

As you headed towards the door, Natasha’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N, please... don’t go.”

But you couldn’t bring yourself to stay. Not when the love you’ve heard from Natasha felt fake. Like it never happened.

You paused for a moment, your hand on the doorknob, before offering a final, pained glance back at Natasha. “I’m sorry, Natasha. Goodbye.”

And with that, you stepped out the door, leaving behind a redhead with a shattered heart.

Maybe in an alternate universe, you could remember her and love her eternally.

[kingofbodyrolls]

End of the World (m) | myg | teaser

→ Summary: Your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise?  → Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: science fiction, apocalyptic, survival, co-dependency to stay alive + heavy angst, fluff and smut. → Tropes: strangers to lovers, forced proximity (because love that shit) → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: still writing (approx 10-20k) it’s a one-shot! → Author’s note: hiya. I’m currently writing this apocalyptic story with Yoongi, because… well. I’m fucking scared. So this is me working through and with my fear for something that I’m afraid is actually going to happen. We don’t need to talk about it, because a lot of bad shit is happening all over the world 😭 This is purely a story, though made up by my fears, yeah. Anyway, it’s okay if you’re not into it! The vibe for it is like The Last of Us and maybe a bit Fallout, I think if you enjoy that type of stuff, you’ll enjoy this one too. But it’s really heavy, but there’s a decent amount of fluff to balance it out, because, it’s still a fanfiction and it wouldn’t be that without some good old fluff and smut 🥰

You know you must move, but before you leave, there’s a promise to fulfill for Yuri.

You relieve yourself and step back onto the road, eyes fixed on the distant horizon that seems miraculously untouched by the ravages of war. That glimmer of hope pulls you forward. You have to reach it. No matter the distance, no matter the obstacles, you must get there. 

It’s your only chance.

You walk and walk—days blur into weeks. Your clothes hang off your frame, tattered and too big. Bombings have become a constant backdrop, each explosion a distant rumble you barely acknowledge. The earth’s violent shudders no longer faze you. Hunger gnaws at you, a relentless companion, its grip tightening until you can’t even remember your last meal. Water, your only steadfast ally, has kept you moving; without it, you’d have long since fallen.

You trudge along the desolate highway, the city a distant speck on the horizon behind you. You have no sense of how far you’ve traveled, only that the remnants of your home have shrunk to a mere dot in your vision. The road stretches endlessly ahead, a bleak reminder of the ground yet to cover.

Dizziness is your constant companion now, your throat as parched as the Sahara despite your efforts to hydrate. Water is scarce, and you’ve been rationing it for days. Hope feels like a distant memory, and though the elusive horizon you’ve been chasing for weeks appears closer, it still seems maddeningly out of reach.

Your body feels like lead, your feet swollen and throbbing with every step. 

Sleep is a distant memory, haunted away by visions of blood-streaked faces, final breaths, and echoing cries. Bloodshot eyes and a disheveled appearance mark your struggle; you’re still in your tattered nightdress, stained with blood and reeking of fear and sweat. 

No food, no shower, just the relentless march through this wasteland.

You’ve lost track of time—is it still September? 

The biting cold cuts through you, your torn and ruined shoes barely offering any protection. You trudge onward, desperate to find shelter, weary of hiding in the bushes from strangers who might wish you harm. Paranoia grips you; every rustle in the distance, every shadow makes you jump. Trust is a luxury you can’t afford. You feel like you’re unraveling, teetering on the edge of sanity.

When your eyes land on a solitary house down a side street off the main road, you can hardly believe it. You’re nowhere near your end goal, the neighboring city, yet here it is—a lonesome house in the middle of fucking nowhere. You chuckle, convinced you’ve lost your mind. Why would there be a house out here, untouched by the chaos? You blink repeatedly, but the house remains. Your feet carry you forward, despite your spinning head and the jumbled mess of thoughts in your mind.

The house, partially concealed by tall trees and lush bushes miraculously untouched by the war, seems like a relic from a forgotten world. An old jeep, battered but intact, sits beside the porch with its white picket fence. You approach cautiously, every step feeling surreal, and lift your hand to knock. Your bloody knuckles leave crimson smears on the pristine white door, a stark reminder of the nightmare you can’t escape.

You lose track of time standing there, every second stretching into an eternity, before the door is abruptly ripped open. You find yourself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

“Who are you?” a male voice demands, harsh and suspicious, but the words barely register. Your vision blurs, darkness encroaching, and the last thing you feel is the hard impact of the porch floorboards against your head as you collapse.

→ Do you want to join Yoongi on a quest for survival as the world crumbles around you? Let me know and I’ll tag you when it drops 💜

Also please let me know if you’re interested, excited about it— otherwise I’m probably just gonna post it on my ao3 only, lol. I’m scared 🫣

Read the second teaser + book cover [here]!

It's been posted!!!!

[matchaelette]

when jungkook is leaving and none of you know what to do with yourselves

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash (her name is ash, cz I couldn't think of anything else & Y/N makes me physically cringe), established relationship, jungkook is leaving for military enlistment and they are just spending the last moments together, jimin cameo ;)

genre: fluff, bit angsty, idol au

warnings: again, jungkook going through the whole enlistment procedure, suggestive, oc cries a lott but hey, everyone of us is crying

words: 3.5k

note: it had to be done. I needed to write about this. I'm not functioning straight and I wrote this in a mood where I felt very drained and emotionless so it might show up in the writing....? also, this is concerning-ly unedited. anyways enjoy, feedback is always appreciated <3

you've lost count of how many times you've cried this whole month.

ever since you could walk, talk, and form conscious thoughts, you've noticed that every feeling you've had and tried to express comes out as tears. yes, you're angry, oh my god mom, I wanna shake your shoulders and tell you to believe your daughter for once and not somebody else, but you're silent and you're crying; you've been memorizing every single thing for this presentation and you swear by your future first newborn baby that every word is engraved in your brain, just say the words, people don't care what you fucking say you just need to say something, but you're silent, your legs are shaking on the stage and you think you're crying; you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it, but all you can do is caress his face and let the silent tears cascade down yours.

yes, ever since the beginning of time, all your emotions and feelings have been coming out as tears.

sometimes you think that spending all your teen years bottling up everything because of a mean father and an angry mother messed you up for good. all your life you've hated yourself for crying so easily, especially when in front of other people, feeling so weak and broken all the time. but you didn't think much anymore, at least not as much as you used to overthink when you were younger, scared of fellow high-schoolers, scared of what people think about you. after you've met jungkook, your sweet jungkook, he has shown you that crying doesn't necessarily mean you're weak. maybe you were just sensitive and that was alright, because you've always cried when you felt too much, made you more of a genuine human than everyone else. his words, not yours.

but it did feel good to hear and you didn't know what you've done to deserve it.

you also remember that every time you've hated yourself for crying, you always found solace in the fact that maybe someday it would all run out and you'd be perpetually free from all of it, the childish thoughts of a child.

however, even though you laughed at those thoughts every time you remembered them, you were now convinced of how wrong you were to think that maybe the tears would run out someday if you cried too much. because you've been crying continuously this month, more than you've cried your entire life, and by god, not only have the tears not dried out but also, it just keeps coming more and more if possible.

you choke out once again as you bury your face in jungkook's shoulder, clutching the front of his shirt as he tightens his grip around your waist. he looks at you helplessly, not knowing what to do anymore, because no amount of words or actions could stop you from crying. he knows he has tried it all.

you force yourself to get a grip, rubbing your face on jungkook's already wet shirt to dry your wet cheeks, and look up at the blurry distance in front of you, resting your cheeks against the place you've been hiding. jungkook stands there, one arm wrapped around you and one arm around his mother, with a little smile that keeps blooming at the sight in front of him seeing his jimin hyung hug and bid goodbye to his family, despite all the heartbreak in the air.

he tightens his grip around you and leans down to kiss his mother's head, who is in a state identical to you but still more graceful and elegant than you could ever be. "it's gonna be okay, you two", he whispers, causing his mother to gently smile and take your hands as you let out yet another sniff at his words. as sad and worried as she was at her son's departure, she couldn't help but feel worried for you too, her motherly nature reaching out towards you in a way you never felt from your own mother.

"I will be okay", she smiles at you in a teasing manner, despite her glassy eyes, "but the question is, will your girlfriend be okay?"

"h-hey!", your voice shook as an unintentional smile replaced the frown, "stop teasing me, maa", you whine.

"I am not teasing you, dear. honestly, come live with me for a few days. come to busan. I'll take care of you"

"if you keep saying that, I'll really turn into a parasite and stay in your house forever, maa"

jungkook giggles at your conversation, happy that the most important two women in his life got along so well. and you did, ever since the day you've met his mother. she loved you as her own daughter, as did his father, and made you feel so loved and comfortable that even your antisocial ass loved to spend time with them, making you visit them frequently, with and without jungkook by your side.

jungkook's mother lets go of her son and glides into her husband's arm, who looks at jungkook with pride. after all who wouldn't be proud of this talented, lovely, hardworking boy? jungkook was your boyfriend, and your best friend before your relationship upgraded into something more, and a lot of words came to your mind when you thought of him. but the first word has to be proud. proud that he became the man he is now, proud of who he was and every single version of him, how humble and kind and caring he is, always making everyone around him feel loved and respected. proud of how your friendship managed to stay so strong after all this time, proud how he is trying his best to get through these 18 months without any toll in your relationship.

jungkook hasn't shed a single tear yet, holding you through nights when you decided to be a mood killer, couldn't help thinking that soon he wouldn't be able to hold you like this. you were so far rooted in the future of the enlistment process that you forgot to live the present. you were a mess, shaking and sobbing ever so often, frustrated at hybe, frustrated at the whole lot of bts for taking a decision like this, frustrated at the south korean government, frustrated at jungkook for not being frustrated at how hysterical you've been acting.

jungkook, instead, has been a constant pillar of support. he has been constantly kissing your tears away, pushing his fears away of how you guys might not last through this calamity, reassuring you more than him that it will be alright. and as much as you wish he would express his own feelings instead of tending yours, you were glad that the boy didn't cry because it was all that was holding you back from getting onto your knees and begging him not to go. you couldn't do that to him, couldn’t do that to his happiness because you knew he would've obliged to your wishes, somehow, and break his own heart. he would do anything for you. he has been continuously proving that, after all.

"how is ash holding up?", jimin asks jungkook as he takes a sip of his soju, not feeling drunk enough despite the few bottles of alcohol he has drank. the point of the night was to spend time with each other, jungkook, him, and taehyung, getting wasted and having fun like old days. namjoon was supposed to join them as well, but he was overseas on schedule. taehyung, on the other hand, was already passed out on the couch, but it might have to do less with his low alcohol tolerance and more with his tiredness after landing in seoul from france just a few hours ago, after quite a hectic fashion week. so, it was jimin and jungkook now, them and their alcoholic asses against the whole world. after all, no one could hold their liquor like them in the whole group.

"she is, well, I honestly don’t know", jungkook frowned, a drop of soju ran down his lips to his black sweatshirt but he didn’t seem to notice, "she is totally ignoring that I have to leave and acting completely normal."

"sounds like her. isn't running from her problems her best coping mechanism?". you were close with all the members in the group, and the rest of them considered you as their little sister as well (even though taehyung jokingly called you noona sometimes) but if there was one member who knew the best, it had to be park jimin. he was your best friend after jungkook and the time you spent together, whether be it gossiping or shopping, was always something both of you found therapeutic and cherished from the bottom of your hearts.

a silent pain erupts in jungkook's heart as he finally voices out the thought he has been continuously having for the last few days, "hyung, should I break up with her?"

"yah jeon jungkook", jimin smacks the back of the younger boy's head, looking at him with shock, "are you that drunk already?"

"I don’t-", jungkook chokes out the next few words incoherently, and jimin had to physically shift closer to the boy to make sense of his words, "I don’t know what to do. I-I don’t know how to live without her. I want her all to myself and I selfishly want to ask her to wait for me. but how can I do that when she could have a much better life without me?"

"jungkookie-"

"she could fall in love with someone better than me. fuck, saying it out loud infuriates me but I know that she could be happier, way happier than I can ever make her. you see what I am doing? I am leaving the girl I love to protect my career, to make sure nobody has anything else left to guilt trap us with. I am doing all of this for myself. how selfish does that make me?"

"you keep forgetting that you don't have a choice, jungkookie."

"then why does it all feel like my fault?"

"what are we going to do?"

the words escape your lips without meaning to. they hang like a whisper in the air as your bodies slowly recover from the high they have been through, limbs tangled and eyes closed, forehead resting against each other.

"are we gonna be alright?"

yes, jungkook wants to say, yes because if you decide to stay, I will make it all work, I will make it all okay, I promise. but how can I ask you to stay when it will only hurt you?

"do you want to… maybe… break up?", his vacant voice makes your eyes fly open in bewilderment, not being able to believe that he actually said the words that he said. all this time both of you have been ignoring the pink elephant in the room, only almost two months left before jungkook left for the military enlistment along with namjoon, jimin, and taehyung. you’ve been trying to enjoy what little time both of you had despite your busy schedules, especially jungkook, who has been working tirelessly to make his fans feel a little less lonely when he won't be present anymore. something to hold on to while I am gone, I hope you can stay within this magic shop we've build together, memories of me would console you like the gentlest breeze of a fall evening, I will yet again patch something I haven’t broken.

but one of you had to be strong enough to address it, this overwhelming dread and the constant need to be with each other, ignoring sleep and every other basic need because you knew your time was coming to an end. you needed to address it and needed to be assured that both of you can get through this, your love was way stronger than these 18 months.

but that's the first thing he wants to say?

the way he looks at you breaks your heart. he has a small smile on his face and you can tell that it is genuine, that he is taking one last moment to cherish all of you if you decided to say yes. but there is almost an unbearing sadness behind his eyes, pained and tortured, begging you to say no.

your voice is almost comical when you actually find it, "jeon jungkook, do you want me to fucking kill you?"

and his immediate reaction is almost laughable. you could see his shoulders drop with relief. he buries his face in your neck and drops all of his weight on top of you, holding you in a way that immediately blocks out all the bad things and forces you to focus on him and him only.

you laugh, "you're quite heavy, babyboy"

"deal with it", comes out his muffled reply, as he forces you down on the soft mattress with his bare body, almost an attempt to bury you, and you choke out yet another laugh at his antics, tightening your legs around his waist and running your hands through his fluffy hair. I refuse to believe that it will all be gone soon.

"you haven't said anything. anything at all", he says quietly.

its sad that you know what he is talking about.

"I didn’t know what to say", you reply softly, careful that your voice doesn't shake. he doesn't need to see how you break every time you remember that he is going to leave, which you've been remembering an awful lot these days. no, you need to be strong, for him and for you. after all, you have already survived months away from each other, during tours and comebacks, thanks to both of your careers.

"we have survived before. it's not something new for us. we can do it again", you whisper against his jaw, gulping down the tears threatening to break free. only this time, it's 18 fucking months, and the unspoken words hang into the air.

"you didn't even shed a single tear", jungkook lifts his face and looks at you accusingly, knowing very well that you're a crybaby, "it keeps feeling like you don’t care."

your eyes widen at his words and it feels like a punch to your gut but you can’t say you're surprised. you have been acting indifferent to put up a strong front, and now that you look back, you may have overdone it from time to time. you were never a good actor.

you never understood why it always felt like this, every time you hide your problems from someone to not bother them, and always feel like a shipwreck when they actually fail to notice.

"jungkook, love", you trace his cheeks with your fingertips, his cute chubby cheeks, his lips, moving to his eyelids the moment he closes his eyes under your touch. you drag your fingertips through his scalp, waterfalls of his hair cascading down when you reach his nape, softly pulling his face closer to kiss the tip of his nose. jungkook, my love, how do I tell you that you mean the world to me and that I am not worried that our relationship isn't as strong enough to fight the course of time but I am sad and I am selfish and I don't know how to survive without feeling your presence for even a single day? how do I tell you that you never have to worry about me leaving but worry about me staying forever and suffocating you? I love you and I don't know what to do with myself, I love you and I don't know who I am without that love. what can I say to make it all better?

"babe, are you crying?"

no, you're not crying. you're sobbing.

"wait wait, I didn't actually ask you to cry—", you can see the panic in his eyes as he pulls both of your bodies up into a sitting position just using one of his hands while the other wipes your cheek off, you on his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, bare torsos flushed against each other. you feel him pulling you into a hug as if your bodies could get any closer than they already are. but instead of being comforted, you sob even louder.

"ash, sweetheart, please don't cry", jungkook wanted to punch himself, regretting the words he spoke earlier. what the hell was he thinking, saying that you didn't cry? he wanted to go back and kick his own ass at the stupidity. why the hell would he want you to cry of all things?

you on the other hand could do nothing except bury your face in your boyfriend's neck, and feel the entirety of him, his body, his scent, his hold on you, his voice so clear in your head, nothing but him until the time runs out. you have been so strong till now, haven't you?

"but you're leaving", he could see now, how much of an idiot he had been thinking that you didn’t care enough just because all you were doing was trying to be tough and get through without this exact moment happening. he could hear the desperation in your choked sobs, he could feel the sadness at his own dam threatening to break. he almost felt angry that after all this time, he was still stupid enough to not see through you.

"and I will be back sweetheart, you know I will be. and then there would be nothing standing between us anymore. nothing. for the rest of our lives", he promises as he lifts your tear-soaked face to look at his own. he looked pained, trying his best to be strong when you were falling apart right in his arms, but you could still see the hope behind his eyes because his promise was real and you knew it.

but once the waterworks begin, it just cannot stop.

there is nothing left to say now. it is time, you realize. the chilly breeze washes over you, and you realize that nothing can make you feel as cold as you will when jungkook gets in that car with jimin. your eyes find each other, mouths desperately looking for words to say, promises, comfort, but what can you say that hasn't already been said?

"I love you", you whisper.

"stay out of trouble, okay?", jungkook kisses your forehead and even with the unstoppable tears leaking out from your eyes, you can't help but shoot him a mischievous glance. you, the god of getting into trouble, staying out of trouble?

jungkook sighs, knowing you a bit too well. after spending years together, he knew well enough that you could never be forced to do something you didn't want to do. you were like a storm, passing through in a way that was your own, wrecking everything in the process. while he loved your bravery and carefree nature, he realized it comes with its consequences. for him, it was constantly worrying about you and never wrongfully so. so, he returns to his last resort to make sure that you will be okay, "do it for me."

"okay that is pure emotional blackma—"

you cannot finish your words because his lips are on yours in a second, abruptly plunging you down a rabbit hole because, god, after all this time you're still not used to it. he smells like fresh laundry and mint, moving carefully because he isn't sure that you will allow him to kiss you like this in front of half the people from his company, his parents, and god knows who else is in the base. but who are you push him away?

you drop all courtesy and kiss him back in a manner that is sure yet gentle, tongue brushing softly against his lips. jungkook obliges and parts his lips, breathe mingling and tongue dancing in harmony as you kiss him with all your might, letting all of him overwhelm all of you one last time.

you let go of each other, breathless yet eyes glued. you trace his face, from his eyes to his cheeks and nose, his shaved head, still as soft as silk under your touch. he kisses your fingers when they reach his lips, smiling gently to remind you that yes, he will be gone, and that will hurt as hell but then again, he will be back.

"go, jimin's waiting", you force out a smile, "and please, for the love of god, choose something normal to do, something that doesn't involve jumping out of an aircraft or—"

"I love you."

".....I know."

[sapphic-serenade]

Hiii can I request fyodor, Nikolai and chuuya hcs with a s/o who is extremely sensitive and emotional? Like the slightest things could set them in tears.

"Too Much?"

pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky | Nikolai Gogol | Chuuya Nakahara x AFAB!reader plot: Fyodor, Nikolai and Chuuya with an extra sensitive reader word count: 1.2k contains: Established relationships (separate), pet names(gn), orgasm denial, edging, use of toys, fingering(f receiving), spanking, oral(f receiving), dacryphilia if you squint, overstimulation, gentle sex, possessiveness, praise, kisses and hickeys a/n: yayyy first req! any feedback is appreciated 🖤

♥︎ Fyodor ♥︎

Being sensitive and emotional doesn't initially seem like something Fyodor would want in a partner, but when it comes to you...

Oh, he loves it.

He finds comforting you enjoyable. You always seem so content and calm after he helps cheer you up, and knowing that he was able to make you feel that way fills him with pride.

He doesn't mind when you get upset either, mostly just because you don't get emotional over the most important things. It's always a quick fix, so it's not a big deal to him.

Sometimes when he's too busy he can't always be there to comfort you, so you either have to deal with your emotions on your own or simply wait. If, though, you can't find it in you to wait and you bother him long enough, he'll just make you cry even more.

Fyodor loves to edge you and control when you cum.

He might finger you and pull them out right when you're on the brink of an orgasm, or maybe he'll stick a toy inside you and leave you alone for a while, ordering you not to orgasm until he returns.

Nothing gets him harder than being able to hear your distant desperate please and cries for him to come back and fuck you.

Fyodor couldn't tear his eyes away from you, sprawled out on your shared bed as your arousal trickled down your inner thighs and puddled on the bedsheet. You squirmed as his fingers slid in and out of your pussy, and Fyodor watched in satisfaction at how such minimal effort on his end was enough to make you write around in tears. "If you wanted me to be more gentle, then you should have behaved yourself, myshka," he told you as he increased his pace. Your moans and cries grew louder, and you clawed at the sheets as tears spilled from your eyes. Fyodor, however, appeared utterly unfazed, aside from the clear amusement he felt from watching you unravel on his long, thin fingers. "You knew that your actions would have consequences, yes? Then perhaps...you wanted me to punish you? How naughty." He smirked down at you, before removing his fingers from your warm hole and forcing them into your mouth, making you taste your own arousal as you whimpered at the sudden emptiness.

"Were you about to cum, my dear? You poor thing, and so quickly too. But you're going to have to earn it first."

♥︎ Nikolai ♥︎

He thinks it's soooooo cute how sensitive you are! And he LOVES to tease you.

He thinks your frustrated pouts, watery eyes and the way you fold your arms in annoyance is just adorable. He can't help but push all your buttons to see all the little reactions you have.

Nikolai also loves to tease you in the bedroom, but we'll get to that in a second~

He likes goading you into snapping at him, at which he decides a punishment is in order for you, and so...

He lays you over his lap and spanks you. Nikolai is really, really good at slapping your ass, making sure his large, gloved hand makes impact with your body in a way that stings so good.

He'll make you count how many times he's spanked you, and decides himself when enough is enough. If you lose count, then he'll just have to start again, won't he?

He knows when he goes too far though, and when that time comes he'll apologise, reassure you and cuddle you for as long as you need, and then just to make sure you know you're extra important to him, eat you out until your legs won't stop shaking.

You had lost track of the amount of orgasms Nikolai had given you, and you certainly couldn't bring yourself to try and remember right as you were on the edge of one more. His tongue prodded invasively at your cunt, arms tightening around your thighs as they began to shake. "Mm? You gonna cum again for me, doll?" He smirked, licking a clean stripe up your slit and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. You nodded, biting your lip to try and suppress a sob. Nikolai chuckled and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it harshly and sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. You let out a moan as your body froze, and your partner hummed in satisfaction as you creamed all over his face. As you rode through your high, thighs clamped around his head, he gave them a few reassuring strokes with his fingers, despite his tongue darting in and out of your soaked pussy. You whined loudly at the feeling of overstimulation, but he just pulled away with a devious grin.

"You can give me one more, can't you, sweetheart? C'mon, I know you can. Just one more..."

♥︎ Chuuya ♥︎

Chuuya is a scary man. He yells, he's brash and hot-tempered, and he's violent. But he cannot ever bring himself to treat you in such a way, especially with how you are.

He makes no effort to hide that you're his favourite person in the world. When talking to you, his tone shifts to one much more kind and soothing, and he touches you as gently as one possibly could.

He's a great partner, in short.

...

...bUT-

There's just something about the way you get when you're upset, the way you come to him for comfort, snuggle into his side and reply to him in little hums and sniffs.

It triggers his possessive side, strangely. And when that happens he wants to make you know how much he cares about you and wants you to be happy.

Chuuya is a gentle lover, caressing every inch of your body with the softest touch and kissing everywhere his lips are able to.

His thrusts are slow and sensual, comforting praises spilling from his lips nonstop as he fucks you.

That being said he does leave a lot of hickeys and marks all over your shoulders and neck, just for good measure~

"God, baby, you feel so good," Chuuya groaned, leaning down to press a few open mouthed kisses across your collarbone. Your fingers carded through his hair as you responded in a high-pitched whimper, legs wrapping impossibly tighter around Chuuya's torso. Every thrust of his, he buried himself as deep inside you as he possibly could, hitting your cervix in the most delicious way that only he could do. "So good for me, darlin'," he murmured into the crook of your neck, "I love you so fuckin' much, you know that?" His words only exacerbated your impending orgasm, and when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders he pulled his head back to look into your eyes, wanting to watch your face contort in pleasure as you came. Chuuya thumbed a tear from your cheek, cupping it as you squeezed onto his shoulders. The feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock made him grunt as he came right after you, the sudden staccato of his thrusts making you gasp and yelp in gratification.

"You feel amazing, babe. Oh, fuck- you always do so well for me, I don't think I could ever get enough of you-"

MDNI banner: @/benkeibear

Tagging: @gettinshiggywithit @pillow-princess-diaries

(Please shoot me an ask or a DM if you'd like to join my taglist!)

[horrorhot-line]

kairos

(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement.

➵ pairing: love and deepspace x reader

➵ word count: 14.2k

➵ genre: fluff, angst (if you squint?)

➵ warnings: spoilers for the game 'love and deepspace' below.

➵ summary: when you thought you didn't belong all your life, you had no idea it wasn't just in your head. now, you're thrown into a world you couldn't possibly have known was real and have to get used to your new enviroment. easier said than done when you keep running into certain men who make it hard to keep your cool.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 horrorhot-line

notes: to anyone waiting for more saiki k content, i promise it's on the way, there's just a few other things i'm working on so it might take some time, and in the mean time i wanted to practice writing for other characters to sharpen my skills.

to anyone who's new to this blog, hi, i hope you enjoy your stay here, and i hope you like my work, enjoy!

also: thank you to @kagadummis @vanillaschoko9353 @identity-theft-101 for giving me the motivation to write. and a huge thanks to @thecaminator for letting me throw ideas off their head to make sense of what i wanted to do with the series. you were a huge help!

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

There was no one moment that you could pinpoint and say was flawed or wrong. When had the world lost its colour? Had you been ignorant all your life and happened to notice one day, and now there was no going back? Did it even matter?

You didn't know when it all started to go wrong, but you were exhausted. The type of tiredness that no amount of sleep could ever cure. Every interaction felt like work. Every moment that you were conscious felt like work. Nothing ever happened, no one ever liked you, and even if something did come to pass- you could never immerse yourself in the feeling completely. 

Chalking it up to, 'Everyone feels this way,' and 'I'm not the only one' only worked for so long. There wasn't really any place you could say you felt you belonged to. You didn't understand how people around you, successful or not, could confidently say, "This is what I was meant for".

Surely, there was more for you out there than working to live, going paycheck to paycheck, always having just enough. Waking up, worrying about trivial things, learning or working, getting stressed at minor inconveniences, eating, sleeping, all on repeat until death finally calls your name one day. 

Wherever you went, you felt like you weren't ever really there. Your only comfort was, no matter how alone you felt, among the 8 billion people in your world, there was someone out there who was going through the exact same thing as you. Someone who knew what it meant to feel like you were in a universe you didn't belong to. 

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

The first thing you felt was pain. It was dull at first, stirring you from your slumber and forcing your sluggish brain to wake up and find the problem. You didn't even get to open your eyes before it evolved into burning, searing you from the inside out. Your head throbbed, and your vision swam, your eyes barely registering the room's lights that you were in before you forced your lids shut.

You cried out, curling in on yourself in an attempt to soothe the pain, but to no avail. You tried to breathe through it, and assumed you were making progress when the pain dulled. You should've known that was only the calm before the storm.

Memories, hundreds, then thousands, filled your mind all at once. They started to blend into each other- familiar, yet not and try as you might, you couldn't quite place your finger on any of them. You wailed, clenching your jaw so hard you felt your molars push against your gums. Clutching your head in your hands, tears flowed down your face.

What was this? You had never been in this much pain before. You were dying; that was the only explanation. There was no way you would survive this pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This couldn't be it. You had so much left to do, so many loose ends to take care of. You were not about to die alone in your room because of a goliath of a headache.

The memories still trying to burn their way through your consciousness behind your closed lids started to slow down, and you could make more sense of them now. You furrowed your eyebrows at what you saw. An entrance exam? Holograms? Monsters? These weren't your experiences; you had never seen this before in your lif-

Wait. No. There was no way. You knew they looked familiar, but you would never have guessed… Those monsters, you recognised them. You had seen them on your flimsy phone screen while playing a dating sim the night before that had just been released a month ago. Love and Deepspace. A game set years in the distant future about romance and wanderers.

What the fuck? You blinked your tears away, the pain from earlier feeling more like a migraine rather than a death sentence. You ignored the sweat clinging to your skin and moved the hair plastered to your face out of the way. That was when your brain caught up, still taking its time to make logical sense of what had occurred.

You weren't in your room- for one, it was neat and tidy to the point of perfection. There was a hologram projected where your bedframe would have been, and the mattress was the softest thing you had ever sat on in your entire life. Despite waking up in a strange room you had no recollection of getting into, you didn't feel any unease, and that in itself had you worried.

It felt right, the feel of the plush covers against your legs and the aesthetic of the room itself. It felt like you belonged. You took a deep breath. Looking around to see if you could find your phone, you moved off the bed to go wander. When you saw a familiar black screen on the desk on the other side of the room, you rushed to grab it.

Getting a better look at it once it was in your hand, you realised it was a phone, alright, just not yours. You tried your best to ignore the odd feeling that washed over you when your fingers seemingly moved as if it were muscle memory and entered a passcode that opened the phone to reveal a home screen.

The top of the screen had bold numbers stating it was 18:46PM, with a few apps underneath. You tried to make sense of what apps were what when your eyes landed on the date in small text under the time. January 17th 2048. You froze, feeling like you had been doused with cold water. No, that couldn't be right. You tried flicking through the apps to see if you could figure out what in the fuck was going on.

You shoved down any thoughts of the isekai love novels you had read in the past because surely- surely, you couldn't have something as cliche as this happen to you. Your expression relaxed slightly, your eyebrows unfurrowing as you found what you thought to be a messaging app. Your eyes scanned the contacts briefly. The first was a message from… Caleb?

Who the fu- Oh. Oh, no. You really didn't want to admit it. You refused. You had not transmigrated. That wasn't possible. You tried to soothe your mind by telling yourself this was all a dream, but the dull headache you still had and the pain that came before it convinced you that you were very much awake. You ignored his message, choosing not to open it and reply.

You had to understand the kind of situation you were in first. The text underneath his was an unsaved number. You opted to open the chat, checking the unread message.

'Congratulations on passing the Annual Hunter's Exam! Please head to the New Recruits Registration Centre on January 18th 2048. Your appointment is set at 8:00 A.M., but we advise you arrive 15 minutes early to sign in. We hope to see you there! Our warmest regards to the new Hunters of today.'

You threw the phone on your bed, frustrated and confused, causing you to be reckless. This made no sense. How could this have happened? You couldn't rationalise any of it. You refused to believe you were in Love and Deepspace. For one, it was too good to be true.

You paced the unfamiliar bedroom, trying to figure out your next move. A mirror. You needed a mirror; it should have been the first thing you went looking for. Your legs carried you as if they already knew where you needed to go. Leaving the room, you turned right and opened the door to reveal a pristine white bathroom. You stopped yourself from gawking at how clean it looked (you swore you saw a bidet and an option to warm up the toilet seat) and headed to the cabinet with a mirror.

You blinked once, then twice, giving yourself a once over again. It looked like you- but didn't at the same time. It was… exactly like what you had chosen the main character of the game to look when you played. You looked otherwordly. Clear skin, smooth without a single bump or pore in sight. Naturally pink lips, long lashes and captivating eyes. The face of a model… of a main character.

You wouldn't have been able to explain the existential crisis you went through even if you wanted to, as you brought your hand up and touched your face. The reflection that greeted you was a stranger, but they felt so familiar. Was this really you? Was this your appearance now? Your life? What were you supposed to do? How could you possibly go back to your world? Did you even want to?

You shook your head. This was all too much. You let your feet guide you back to the bedroom, lost in your thoughts, trying your best to think coherently.

That's when you saw it. A small hologram, a pop-up screen, on the bedroom window that took up a whole wall. You paid no mind to the incredible view outside, too perplexed by the screen. You walked closer to it, realising there was writing. Had it appeared when you left the room, or had it been there from the beginning, and you had been too disoriented to notice?

Your eyes traced the words carefully, trying to understand what they meant. You reread it, furrowing your eyebrows. In bold and all caps, on a white background and written in serif print, was the paragraph,

"N/A Y/N L/N - TIME OF DEATH: [REDACTED], 18:39:03:153425

LINKON CITY [REDACTED] - TIME OF DEATH: DIED JANUARY 17TH 2048, 18:39:03:153425

CONDITIONS FOR SOUL SWAP HAVE BEEN MET. WELCOME TO YOUR ORIGINAL UNIVERSE. WE APOLOGISE FOR THE MISTAKE WE MADE AND THE INCONVENIENCE IT MAY HAVE CAUSED FOR THE TIME IT TOOK TO FIX. THIS IS YOUR ORIGINAL UNIVERSE AND WHERE YOU WILL CARRY OUT THE REMAINDER OF YOUR DAYS. ENJOY YOUR STAY."

Underneath the text was only one option. "ACCEPT"- no way of declining. Huh. Enjoy your stay? Apologise for the inconvenience? Delay it took to fix? Were they taking the piss? Pulling your leg? Dickheads. This was a joke. It had to be. Someone was kidding you, pulling some elaborate prank, and all you had to do was say, 'You got me!' and it would all be over… If only.

You weren't sure how long you stood there staring at the display, trying to make sense of it all. You were in a game. A game you had yet to finish because you had to wait to level up every day. A game where you found yourself fangirling over boys on your screen. And who could blame you? The three male leads were captivating. Beautifully drawn and animated.

Your eyes focused on the view behind the small screen of text, past the bedroom's window; the buildings were obscured due to condensation, most likely caused by the rain still falling across the city. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, exhaled and promptly reached out to the accept button and clicked it.

It disappeared, and you were left alone with just your thoughts. You know what? No, you were not doing this today. You were going straight to bed; you didn't have the energy to deal with this. This was a problem for future you.

With that, you slipped into the familiar yet unfamiliar bed and closed your eyes, letting exhaustion and slumber take hold of you.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

From what you could gather from your baffling situation and the cryptic message you saw yesterday, you were in the universe you belonged to. But how did that make any sense? The universe, or whoever was in charge, god, a system? They had made a mistake; you had lived your prime years in a world you were never supposed to exist in, and now you were back where you belonged?

Bullshit- You called bullshit. This was all too much. And if you were here, where was the woman who had been in this body before both souls were swapped? Was she in your uni- her original universe? …Good luck to her then- you hoped she managed to make sense of the shit show that had been your life the day before.

What you still couldn't understand was, how did the soul swap happen? What conditions could have been met to swa- was it the time both of you died? Fuck, this was giving you a headache. You had to blend in and not raise any suspicions for now. What else could you do?

You were sure the events that occurred to lead you to this world were irreversible, and you had no desire to take on some cosmic power that was, in essence, playing with your life. You would make a move once you knew more. Maybe.

You bit the inside of your cheek, miffed but feeling mostly defeated that your life had genuinely been turned upside down, inside out and then fucked sideways.

The walk to the New Recruits Registration Office had been uneventful. Something you were grateful for as it gave you time to take in all that was Linkon City. The skyscrapers were unlike anything you had ever seen, and you were in awe of all the wonders this new world had to offer. Scared and exhilarated, a great combination.

You pulled on the Hunter's Uniform you had found in the wardrobe. It fit you like a glove, but you still couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong. Like your mind was rejecting the whole situation because it couldn't understand it all at once. Your soul felt at ease, though- something you were grateful for since you guessed that was the sole reason you weren't completely losing your mind. Despite your inner turmoil, you were sure you had never felt more at home.

You just hoped no one noticed that the characte- you, had changed. You checked your phone again, and your shoulders relaxed slightly at the realisation that at least you weren't running late for once in your life. Who knew you'd develop time management skills after you were smited by whatever power had brought you to this new world.

You made it to the building in time but slowly stopped in your tracks as you raised your neck to catch a glimpse of the whole place and realised there was seemingly no end to how high the structure was. You took a deep breath- tried and failed to steel your nerves before you entered the office that would be your new workplace. You attempted to distract yourself with the voice that came through the speakers placed everywhere in the building.

"…One day, we will be able to evolve from our current limitations, transcend the boundaries of life and reach the stars." You silently watched as the glass elevator took you to your destination, the people on the street outside forming little specks the higher you went until they were barely visible. "At a certain point in the future, we can pass through the deep space tunnel… and discover the future awaiting us."

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

You joined the crowd the minute you entered the Hunter's Association HQ, glad that the lights were dimmed and only focusing on the man you presumed to be the big boss of the place. The older man you assumed to be President of the HA stood on a podium, looking around and waiting for anyone else to join.

You really should have replayed the previous chapters in the game because even though you knew what was to come, your memory of the events of love and deepspace were hazy at best.

"…Fourteen years ago, the Deepspace tunnel appeared above Linkon. It led to anomalous geomagnetic storms, and the creatures known as wanderers emerged. From such an event, the Deepspace Hunter was born. Now, society has returned to a sense of normality, but there are still Wanderers lurking in the shadows. They-"

You didn't get to hear the rest of what the President was saying; a girl in the crowd to your right stole your attention. "After they hand out our badges, we'll be assigned to a squad, which will determine our future. Aren't you nervous?" You gave her a once over- what was her name again? Tasha? She was one of the side characters in the game and had a few scenes here and there.

You couldn't remember if there was an option to respond to her in the game or not. Would it change anything if you did? Did it even matter because this was your universe now? Fuck it. "Not in the slightest." You answered after a moment of silence, shooting her a small smile. You weren't wrong; you weren't nervous about your score- because if the game was anything to go by, your results were predestined.

You turned back to the speech. "You look excited, though." You looked at her from the corner of your eye, taking in her giddy form and fidgeting hands. "I am! I couldn't sleep all night!" She whispered back, covering her mouth with her hand to avoid getting anyone else's attention. It was hard to get over the fact that the person in front of you was real, and not a video game character.

She was the prettiest girl you had ever seen. Short hair that fit her face perfectly, clear skin, and a shine in her eyes you hadn't found in the passersby on the streets that morning. You gave her a soft smile, more sincere this time. You hoped she'd still like you like she had the MC of the game you played.

The two of you turned your attention back to the President, who was still talking. "…Goal as hunters is to extract the Protocores from Wanderers- in hopes of destroying them once and for all. That being said, congratulations on passing the selection process. We are grateful for your hard work." The President clapped, and everyone else joined in, including you, who was bested by social convention.

The President returned to resting his hands on the podium, "We will now begin the ceremony and hand out badges to the new Deepspace Hunters. First Candidate, 003931." His eyes swept the crowd, and you didn't need to see the number pinned above your chest to know it was you. At least you remembered that part of the game.

The girl next to you whisper-shouted as she looked at you. "That's you, isn't it? Hurry, get on stage!" And get on the stage you did. You straightened your back, pulled down your cropped jacket and approached the President. "Morning, Sir." You said, suddenly feeling awkward under his authoritative stare. He acknowledged you with a nod, gesturing to the screen on the podium.

"Place your hand here to confirm your personal info." You leaned forward to better see the display. You hoped the name that belonged to this body wasn't too out of character for you. You didn't want some 'Pride & Prejudice' ahh name. Anything but Jane Doe! Please!

You hesitated for a second before placing your hand on the podium and watched as a hologram popped up and generated your details.

"FIRST NAME: Y/N LAST NAME: L/N BORN: XX.XX.XXXX SECTOR: [PENDING]"

The hologram flashed the different level classification in the corner before a question mark appeared. The President gazed at the screen, "Ah, Anhausen Class… It's been a while since I've seen this Evol. You have a lot of potential for growth and might even acquire new abilities. I can see why Jenna picked you as soon as the rookie list was released to the public." You gave an awkward smile at his words, not knowing how to feel because, technically speaking, that was all the MC, not you.

The hologram made a sound, indicating an error. The word "LOST" showed up in red under the level specifications. "It can't be detected?" The President furrowed his eyebrows slightly at the screen. How did the MC explain this one away? You were sure it was something about an attack and the monsters of this world.

"I got attacked by a Wanderer in 2034, so my Evol isn't stable…?" It came out more like a question, something you inwardly cursed at yourself for. He stared at you for a moment before he nodded. "Hm. That event did change many lives forever. You're not the first Evolver whose levels couldn't be detected." He folded his arms over his chest. "This isn't the only criterion we use when evaluating a Deepspace hunter. As long as you have the skills, this industry welcomes you with open arms."

The President leaned to the side to grab a blue box. "Congratulations, you are now a Deepspace Hunter." He brought the box closer to you, urging you to accept your badge. You took it, muttering, "Thanks, Sir."

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

There was no chance to relax as all the new Hunters went out on rookie missions to prove their worth in the field. You damn near jumped out of your skin when your Hunter's watch went off. "Rookies, this is Jenna speaking. I'm your UNICORNS Captain today. Ten minutes ago, there was an abnormal Metaflux explosion at this abandoned base for Protocore research." So that's what this deserted place was.

You felt it in your soul first before the detector picked up on the change; a pulsating vibration passed over you, serving as some sort of warning. There was something here. "It's nearby." You muttered, bringing your Hunter's watch closer. It beeped softly, showing a window stating, "Energy Index", with the numbers 19.5-

"Oh! Your Evol's even better than the detector." You jumped, scared shitless for 0.3 seconds before your brain realised it recognised the voice as the girl from the entrance ceremony. You turned around, the numbers from before forgotten as you faced Tasha. As if she had read your mind and your mistake, she corrected you. "Hi. I'm Tara,"- shoot, you had gotten her name wrong this whole time- "Remember me? I was standing next to you during the badge ceremony."

"Yeah, I do. Fancy seeing you here." You let out a dry laugh, cursing yourself mentally at your awkwardness of having to interact with people you thought were game characters less than 24 hours ago before you were whisked away to this new universe. She quietly snorted at your antics, "You're so cute! I'm so happy we're in the same squad! I saw you, and I just knew we'd be friends!" You blinked, stunned at her compliment and her palpable excitement.

You didn't realise you were tensing until you relaxed at Tara's warm demeanour. "Why don't we team up, then?" You weren't sure if she liked the MC this much straight off the bat, but you were grateful for the inviting air she had around her. You gave her a warm smile of your own. "Sure! The tarot reading I did yesterday told me that I would be super lucky today-"

You didn't get the chance to respond; Tara's watch started beeping, stealing both of your attention. "Wanderers! They're here." Oh fuck. You were not ready for this. Did you have to battle monsters now? At least in the game, there was no way of dying; the MC would just retreat and level up. Did you have that option here? To go back in time or something?

Your watch alerting you of a mission brought you back from your thoughts. You were ashamed that you hesitated for a second, even though you had just received a hunter's badge. You hoped muscle memory would help you fight- Surely, the MC trained in her free time when she had this body. You accepted the mission and looked back at Tara.

"The biggest threat level here is only B, which matches the fluctuations we just felt." At her words, you felt your stomach drop. Why, you had no idea. "Something's not right." You voiced out loud, not quite sure if you could place your finger on what exactly it was. "Yeah, fluctuations normally don't have set values." Tara nodded, folding one arm over her waist and bringing a finger to her chin as if contemplating something.

"Why don't we split up and look around first. Just to be safe?" Safe, your ass! Splitting up in movies always meant death! You didn't want your career to be this short; people would laugh! You gave her a stiff smile, unsure of yourself, as you watched her take her gun out of her holster. "You stay inside- I'll scout the perimeter to see how far the fluctuations go. We'll regroup here once we're done." You nodded, watching her walk off.

You let out a shaky breath as you returned to exploring the building. Wasn't this where MC had to battle Wanderers for the first time? Fuck it, you were 58% sure you weren't going to die, and those odds were good enough. Better than being labelled a coward and, in essence, becoming the company's pariah.

What were you supposed to do now? Wait for your movements to trigger a fight scene or something? You mused to yourself to ease your nerves, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were forgetting something really important. You didn't get to ponder on the thought; a pop-up screen appeared before you.

Okay. So, this is what it felt like for all those main characters in the Isekai game animes when they saw an instruction window in front of them. You squinted at the words, taking them in.

"THERE HAS BEEN A METFLUX EXPLOSION, BUT IT DOES NOT MATCH THE WANDERER'S THREAT LEVEL. YOU MUST INVESTIGATE THE CAUSE OF THIS.

p.s: we hope this message aids you in your mission. again, apologies for the inconvenience."

So, whatever stole your normality from you really did have a heart after all. You were still annoyed for being blindsided and thrown into the deep end but found you were less frustrated at your situation as you pressed the accept button underneath the text. The pop-up disappeared promptly, and you walked past where it had been seconds ago.

You nearly had a heart attack when you heard what sounded like rocks shifting or falling. Your grip on your gun tightened, and you found your body moving towards the noise rather than away from it. Stupid muscle memory! It chose the worst time to make its presence known. What manner of man runs towards the sound of danger rather than away from it?

You finally had more control of your limbs as you slowed down at a clearing. Nature had slowly started taking back the part of the building you had found yourself in, leaves and plants covered the ground.

Your breath hitched when you saw him. Xavier.

That was what you were forgetting! The male leads! They were real, and you were destined to have run-ins with them if the game was any help… You could leave. Turn back and look for the Wanderer yourself and avoid having to interact with someone who had you screaming into your pillow at odd hours of the morning when you were playing the game.

No. You wanted to slap yourself for even thinking that running away was an option. In what world would you give up the chance to see your favourite boys up close? Maybe they wouldn't fall for you this time around, and it wouldn't be happily ever after because you had replaced the MC, but you could at least bask in their presence and handsomeness, no?

You lowered your gun, slowly getting closer, almost as if you were trying to pet a stray cat outside and didn't want to scare it away. If you remembered correctly, MC would try calling for backup, thinking Xavier was injured and needed help, and a monster would show up. You knew from the game that he was fine, just tended to fall asleep no matter the situation- but you also knew you had to get him up because a wanderer was on its way.

Common sense dictated you shake him awake, but you felt guilty knowing he liked his sleep. That, and you were enjoying yourself. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, and damn it, if you weren't going to admire this artwork before you.

To be or not to be, you mused to yourself as you got closer to him and kneeled to his height. "…Hello?" You voiced experimentally, wondering if he'd wake up. No such luck, you realised as you called out to Xavier again, shaking him slightly. What were you supposed to do? At this rate, you would have to call for backup, if only to get him out of his slumber.

It didn't help that he looked perfect even while he was sleeping. He was ethereal, otherwordly. You were in awe of how his skin glowed and how the light reflected off his hair, making him look like he was painted. He looked like he had been cut straight out of the magazine, not a single dirty blonde lock out of place and long lashes that nearly kissed his cheeks. Why was he so pretty? The universe clearly had favourites.

After your fifth and final attempt to wake him up, you gave up; the guy slept like a rock- what were you supposed to do? You felt too guilty to try again; you felt like a criminal for taking away his nap. You'd just have to wait for your death, then. "Please, I'm too young to die again." You thought out loud in desperation, which seemingly did the trick.

He stirred in his sleep, and your breath hitched as his blue eyes finally landed on you. Oh fuck. He was gorgeous. Like, make your knees go weak gorgeous. Like, get lost in his gaze type gorgeous. Like make you wanna bark gorgeou- No! You had to stop your train of thought, focus and try to end the awkward silence between you.

You took a breath, steeling your nerves and putting on your brave face, "Hi, I know you were sleeping, and I'm sorry I woke you up, but you looked injured, so I wanted to make sure you were okay." You gave him the classic white man smile, the awkward one you gave to someone who would let you go first when going through a door or something. You winced, cringing at your words.

You hoped he wouldn't think you were weird. First impressions were everything. "I'm fine," Xavier answered after a beat, gazing down at his minor wounds, and it was over for you. His lazy drawl was smooth and inviting, comforting like honey. "But, you-" You didn't get to enjoy the sound of his voice or hear what he was going to say as the ground started to shake beneath you. The collar on Xavier's neck projected a blue hologram, and you knew exactly what it meant. A wanderer. Oh fuck.

Your body moved by itself, bringing your arms up and pointing your gun at the monster that appeared. "Watch out!" Xavier leapt past you and summoned his sword to attack the creature. You watched in awe at the speed at which he moved, lowering your gun slightly. He faltered as his collar turned red.

He jumped away, finding his footing next to you as the monster disappeared. "It activated its Protofield. You're a Hunter, right? Let's defeat it together." You looked from the purple portal that shifted to Xavier, then back.

It wasn't like you could refuse, you thought to yourself as you entered the portal after the blonde. This was your life now; you had to try and get used to it, at least.

The following five minutes were a blur; you took a back seat and let your body move by memory to defeat the Wanderer. You felt the fear during your close calls, but you were grateful Xavier had your back. When the fight ended, and the monster was crushed, you both were teleported back to the abandoned building.

A purple orb manifested and floated towards Xavier, and you watched as he grabbed ahold of it, shook his head and crushed it in his hand. "This isn't it." You moved closer, interested in his motivations. "Was there something wrong with it?" You queried, regarding the man with curious eyes. "Huh?" He gazed at you, looking lost. So he had no intentions of answering you and was gonna be all mysterious? Cool.

"Do you think there's more Wanderers lurking?" You changed the subject, guessing he probably didn't answer on purpose. "We became prey stuck in a trap the moment we walked into this warehouse," Xavier stated as he looked at his surroundings. "Come." He approached you, taking hold of your wrist as he led the way. You ignored the flip-flops inside your stomach and tried to keep your cool. You had to remind yourself he was doing this for the mission.

Xavier stopped, still holding onto you as he looked around, seemingly searching for something. "Did you enjoy your nap?" You piped, having spent too long in silence, the awkwardness nearly crushing you. "Hm? …Yes, I did." Xavier gave you a funny look, and you ignored it as you mentally cussed yourself out for asking him a closed question and murdering the chance of a conversation.

The uneasy feeling you had gotten since you came here had yet to leave you as you checked the screen on your Hunter Watch, confused as to why it didn't detect any Wanderers. As if reading your mind, Xavier answered, "They're Luminivores. No movement, no fluctuations." So that's why… You met Xavier's gaze as he brought his finger to his lips, signalling for you to stay quiet. "Over here." He cocked his head in the other direction, pulling you with him with his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

He pulled you to sit next to him, trying to hide your presence from whatever was lurking in the shadows, waiting for both of you. You sifted through your memories of the game, straining your brain to see if you could remember the chapter's outcome. As far as you knew, the Wanderers had set some sort of trap for Xavier, and both he and the MC had to take down other Wanderers before the stage was cleared.

"Feels like a trap set specifically for you." You voiced out loud after carefully thinking of what to say without sounding like some clueless Hunter who knew nothing of the monsters that attacked- you thought you did a darn good job considering you were someone who knew nothing about the Wanderers- and who could blame you? You played the game for the plot- the plot, of course, being the hot guys who got involved with the MC.

"I'm just a normal Hunter. You don't need to look too deeply into it." Your eyes softened as you looked at the man in front of you, realising from the game that he had a tendency to look away and avoid eye contact when he lied. Clearly, he wasn't ready to tell you what was going on, and you were okay with that. "Okay, I believe you." You stated, deciding not to dig any deeper.

You didn't notice the curious look he shot your way at your willingness to let it go. "What are you thinking about?" Xavier asked as he watched you furrow your eyebrows, deep in thought. You finally glanced up at him. "Why don't we bait them out and take them down in one attack?" You suggested, confident that the MC had devised a similar plan to defeat the Wanderers. "You…" He trailed off as he stared you down.

You ignored the heat rising on the tip of your ears due to his gaze. "Use your Evol." You stated, remembering the MC's words from the first time you played the chapter. He looked at where the Wanderers were starting to swarm. Xavier held his palm out before him, summoning light into it. The room darkened when he closed his hands. "Guess they took the bait. They're gathering now."

You willed yourself to shake the nervousness you felt, hoping your victory was predestined and that the two of you would get out of there unscathed. "There are a lot of Luminivores. If we don't take them out in one go, they'll respawn using the light." Your hand moved by itself, a feeling you had yet to get used to. You grabbed Xavier's arm, breathing as you willed your Evol to activate, "Then, let's use my Evol." He turned his attention from where your hand rested, to you.

His face… You thought to yourself what a shame it was to see his brows furrow, but fuck did he look good when he was all serious. You mentally shook yourself at the thought; now was not the time! "Please forgive me," Xavier stated as he moved closer, his breath tickling your cheek as he took hold of your right hand and rested it on his chest. You watched in awe as light gathered where the two of you met, a warm glow enveloping the both of you.

The wind picked up as your powers combined, and all you could think was, this was Resonance? It felt like you had joined on a spiritual level, your souls connected for a brief moment as your powers mixed and tangled themselves. All you could do was pay attention to his slow heartbeat and how good he looked with his eyes closed.

The Luminvores burnt away quickly; not a trace of them left as the light disappeared. Xavier got up, looking around and securing the perimeter with his eyes. "The fluctuations are gone, and so are the Wanderers. Your plan actually worked." You relaxed, your form no longer tense, as you realised you were out of danger for the time being. "Too bad we couldn't get any Protocores." You stated, remembering the procedure you were briefed on when it came to Wanderer clean up.

"Ah, they were accidentally blown up." You shrugged at his statement, not too bothered by the fact since you were still in one piece, which was more important. You had done it- with the help of MC's muscle memory. You had yet to get used to the foreign feeling of your body moving with a mind of its own.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, looking at each other, waiting for the other to talk. "…My uh, my name's Y/n. A new recruit. Nice to meet you." Xavier regarded you for a second, and you ignored how his eyes flicked from both your eyes down to your lips and then back. You definitely ignored your stomach doing the 'thing.'

"I'm Xavier." He paused, only for a second, before he turned to face you properly. "By the way, could you do me a favour?" And there it was, the line you were waiting for. "If anyone asks what happened, tell them that… Aside from the Wanderers, you saw nothing else, alright?" Ah, he was asking so nicely- how could you possibly turn him down? You never did understand why the MC was suspicious of Xavier when she first met him.

Then again, he was pretty vague and mysterious to start with. "Okay, if you say so." You accepted readily because, let's be honest, you were weak in front of that handsome face. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen his expression change much since you first encountered him, but you were sure you didn't imagine the slight raise of his eyebrows in surprise.

He looked like a lost puppy, reminding you of a golden retriever. His expression softened, no doubt confused as to why you agreed so readily to his demand, and you couldn't help the smile on your face. "Don't you want me to explain?" You softly shook your head at his question, "You don't have to explain yourself to me. Take it as a free pass for fighting with me."

Changing what the MC said in the game wouldn't hurt, would it? You hoped this didn't set off a butterfly effect that ended with you buried 6 feet under. Either way, he really did save you out there; you were sure if you had to take that Wanderer alone, even with the muscle memories of the body you were in, you would have been defeated. So all's well that ends well.

Xavier's lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but your Hunter's watch stole your attention. "I'm headed over to your location now!" Tara's voice came through the device, and when you looked up, Xavier was gone- so much for distracting yourself with eye candy.

The sound of footsteps getting closer had you turning around to face Tara. "I lost your signal and couldn't contact you at all. These protocore fragments… You took them down all by yourself." She asked, astonished as she lowered her gun. "Yep, all me." You mentally patted yourself on the back for how quickly you lied. "That's amazing! I'm so glad you're okay; we'll talk when the mission's over, all right?" You nodded at her suggestion, shooting her a small smile.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Once the Wanderer clean-up was over, you, Tara and the New Recruits were ordered to return to HQ. You were just glad to finally be able to relax as you leaned against a wall. Curse you and your unhealthy body that was used to spending your free time indoors. Nothing of note happened after Tara found you, and thank fuck because you weren't sure you could handle another battle. 

It was nice and all, being in a game you had spent time and effort playing until you realised you'd have to relearn the meaning of 'normal'. The chattering of your soon-to-be colleagues did little to distract you from your inner turmoil. Your saviour came in the form of a girl whose name you had gotten wrong. Tara's voice pulled you from your thoughts, "By the way, did we get anything from the data we sent back to HQ?"

You gazed up at the ceiling, trying to recall what had happened since you returned through the blur of memories that day. "Something about waiting for results before jumping to conclusions. I guess Data Analysis still needs to do another investigation." You offered, hoping she wouldn't press you further about the mission. "I'm just glad you're okay; it must have been scary by yourself." 

You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, a small smile gracing your face at her concern for your safety. "Yeah, even though you left me to fend for myself. Guess it's my super lucky day, not yours." You teased, remembering her comment about a tarot reading from before the mission. "You're still in the mood to crack jokes?" She quipped, placing her hand on her hip. You didn't miss the twitch at the corner of her lips, and you couldn't help but snicker at her antics.

"For your information, I was trying to contact you for ages! I was so close to trying just about anything possible, scientific and mythical!" You had a feeling the two of you would get along well. You didn't get to finish the conversation as the light dimmed in the room, and the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen walked in. She was tall, with the most perfect pixie cut, sharp eyes and plump lips. You couldn't help that your first thought was, 'Mommy?' 

"Finally, we meet face to face, UNICORNS Recruits." The chatter in the room dulled to nothing as you lightly kicked yourself off the wall you were leaning on. "I'm relieved to see everyone has returned in one piece. Your performance was recorded and uploaded to our database by the Hunter's Watch each one of you is wearing." You absentmindedly fidgeted with your watch, hoping there wasn't anything suspicious in your results that would raise eyebrows. 

You froze when she made eye contact with you and continued. "UNICORNS only chooses the best of the best. The squad will take that into consideration and assign you to your appropriate sector. In the foreseeable future, the difficulty of your assignments, nature of your work, and scope of your missions will correspond to your sector's role and responsibilities."

You stopped listening, your attention span coming to its end as you started daydreaming. So, Xavier and the other male leads were as real as they came, and you were in a world where you would manage to run into them. You had to wonder if you were still the love interest after swapping souls with a nameless character. You guessed you would have to find out for yourself.

As if on cue, applause erupted in the room as Jenna thanked everyone for their efforts and participation, and you, like the sheep you were, joined in instinctively. With that, Jenna gave a small smile and left the room. The lights switched back on as the room burst into excited chatter once everyone's Hunter's watch beeped, signalling the results were out. 

The robotic voice of a woman sounded through the speakers. "Mission data analysed. Please report to your respective sector at 8:00 A.M tomorrow." Tara brought her hand up to inspect her watch, "Sector... Data Analysis. Captain... Andrew. Yes! I knew yesterday's fortune was right!" She turned to you, her hands clasping behind her as she leaned forward. "Well? What does yours say?"

You gazed at your own device, knowing the results already. "Sector, Alpha Team. My Captain's Jenna." Tara perked up, looking more excited about your results than her own. "You're working directly under Jenna? Wow... Can I visit you in the future whenever I want?" You didn't blame her for using you as an excuse to check your captain out; you would have done the same in her shoes. "Be my guest. We can admire Captain Jenna together." 

Tara whooped at your suggestion, doing a little victory pump. "Wanna get some food?" You suggested, not wanting the conversation to end. You were relieved when she agreed, telling you she was starving.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Azure Square was beautiful, a cross between a park and stalls that lined the main street, branching off into the distance. Tara had led you there since it wasn't too far from HQ. Grabbing whatever street food caught your eye, the two of you strolled past the trees lining the path until you spotted a free bench near the square's monument.

You listened to Tara rant about her workplace crush, enjoying the scenery and her giddy personality. "…And just like that, the Wanderer was gone! Poof! Disappeared into thin air." You tried not to laugh at her gestures and hand movements that matched the story. "After escorting me to a safe place by the road, she said- "You're safe now. Go home." Aaaah! That's what we call max security!"

She lowered her clasped hands, and you got whiplash from how quickly she became serious. "So yes, as you can see, I became a hunter to follow in Captain Jenna's footsteps. I want to be as badass as she is- to be her equal and fight alongside her…" She blinked, trailing off before she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Oh, I've just been rambling on. What about you? Why did you become a hunter?"

You parted your lips to respond, and you were not ready for the flashback her question had triggered. The screams of help were drowned out by roaring wanderers, the feeling of your stamina depleting as you sprinted through the streets covered in rubble, the panic of not knowing what was chasing you, the burning pain you felt as you were hit, the makeshift shelter you crawled towards in an attempt to save yourself.

Well, that was something, you thought to yourself as you blinked. The memory felt like it was familiar yet foreign at the same time. It was like trying to grasp at smoke, only for it to slip through your fingers. "Looks like you're reminiscing about something from a looong time ago." Tara's words snapped you out of your daze. "You could say that…" You trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

You were saved by the bell, or more like the drone that flew by to give a prerecorded announcement to the passersby. "This is a very important symbol for Linkon City! Mr. Guidey welcomes you to Azure Square!" The drone looked like a ball, clad with headphones that had bunny ears on top. "Here, the past and future coexist! The old and new mingle together seamlessly! This is the charm of Linkon City! Wow!"

"Ahhh, it's so noisy, like a kid who's constantly shouting." You agreed with Tara's complaints, but after a few seconds of listening, it started to grate on your ears like forks against a plate. Either way, you were grateful for the distraction. "Everyone, look over there! Tide Street is hosting a marine-themed exhibition! Follow me…" You followed the drone that whizzed off into the distance with your eyes before looking back at Tara.

Your silent question of, 'Wanna go?' didn't go unnoticed by her, and she promptly shook her head. "I'll call it here; we need rest for work tomorrow. After all, we experienced a real battle today- getting a good night's sleep takes priority. Plus, I live far from here, so…" You nodded, signalling you understood she had to leave. You gave her a small wave, one she returned as she disappeared into the crowd.

Once you knew you were alone, you couldn't help but think, 'What now?' It was too early to be left alone to ponder the day's events and how this was your new normal. As if the universe heard your inner turmoil, you noticed a boy in the bush near you, trying to look inconspicuous. You could sense the hesitation, but his eyes shined with determination. He was clad in a yellow hoodie and khaki shorts, perfect for the sunny weather and clear skies. You decided to call out to him, "You okay?"

That was all the encouragement the boy needed as he slowly stepped out from his hiding place, "So, miss, I overheard your conversation… Are you a hunter on mission?" You shook your head, correcting him, "A hunter on standby." You lowered yourself to his eye level, hoping you wouldn't intimidate him.

"Everyone says hunters are super strong, and you can do anything I ask, right? Riiiight?" You could tell he wanted a favour by the way he quizzed you. He confirmed your suspicions as he pulled out a stack of shiny, golden cards from his pocket, presenting them to you. "Here's what I'll give you as a reward! A full set of Super Hunters AR cards. Follow me!"

You didn't get a chance to say no as he grabbed your hand and whisked you away. "We're almost there. I need you to catch that little red fishie!" He dragged you to a stall and pointed at the prize he wanted. You nodded, signalling you understood the assignment. "I'll do it, but you don't have to give me your cards." This time, the boy didn't get to respond to you, as a little girl in the distance called his name.

"Lucas! You can't cheat in a contest!" The boy panicked, pushing you closer to the stall as he hurriedly spoke and threw the net at you. "Oh no, she spotted us! Take this net, and don't say anything about me hiring you!" He exclaimed as he ran off and left you by yourself. Were you still supposed to catch it from him?

You didn't get to ponder much longer; the sound of light footsteps approaching the stall urged you to turn around, and you regretted the choice immediately. You were not ready.

The man in front of you was drop-dead gorgeous. He had nothing on Xavier, and you could tell straight away that he had indeed been the game creator's favourite. A face sculpted perfectly, an alluring aura and the prettiest set of siren eyes you had seen and- motherfucker, was he glowing? "Unfortunate. This species of fish can only survive for a week on land." Rafayel stated as he stepped closer, gazing at the creatures swimming in the booth.

You inhaled and inwardly cursed as your breath hitched. You couldn't help but gawk, entranced by the beautiful man before you. His eyes met yours as he cocked his head and moved closer. "The fish is gonna slip away, you know." He pointed out before taking the net from your hand. You froze as his fingers grazed yours, not missing the feeling of electricity passing through you at the touch. He let out a little "Ta-Da!" as he went to catch the fish.

Rafayel caught it on his first try, manoeuvring the net in a circle, and the next thing you knew, he brought the tool closer to you and turned it around, showing you his catch. He gazed down at the fish between you, "The owner probably just wanted to throw in some fish to fit the theme- but this one, bright as a flame, is a real Flammula from Lemurian legends."

Your throat went dry, and you unconsciously gulped to relieve the discomfort, still starstruck as you looked at Rafayel. You couldn't speak even if you tried, and you weren't about to attempt to do so, only to have your voice crack, which you were sure would happen if you opened your mouth.

His eyes narrowed only a fraction, and had you blinked, you would have missed it. You wordlessly held out the container with water for the fish, nearly forgetting with all your ogling about the poor creature still flopping on the net.

He dropped the bright red fish into the water, never taking his eyes off you. Fuck's sake. Was he suspicious of you? But how? This was your first encounter in the timeline of the game. Had you met him before? Did he know you- the MC?

It didn't help that his collarbone was on show, and the little show of skin alone was nearly enough to make you go feral. His eyes dilated slightly in what you could only assume was… yearning? "Do you… Know me?" He asked finally, and you cursed at your lack of acting skills.

Had you actually played the game and paid attention instead of skipping lines until the MC interacted with the male leads, you wouldn't have had to suffer. What had the MC said to him in the game for him to walk off so easily? "I, uh… No? Should I?" You placed the container holding the fish down and shot him a question of your own, hoping it would open up a new chapter in the conversation.

Rafayel's eyes dimmed, losing the shine they had momentarily before he turned his head to look off to the side. "No… Nevermind." You tilted your head at his words- had you missed something? "Thank you for helping me, Raf- Ahh, rescue- rescue the fish." You winced at the way you stuttered, hoping he wouldn't notice how you nearly said his name without him introducing yourself.

"You…" He trailed off, stepping closer to you, and you did what any logical person would do when coming face to face with someone who was temptation and allure, personified- you moved back. Of course, of all the moments you could trip over your feet, it was then. You didn't notice the raised brick on the pathway behind you until your heel came into contact with it, sending you falling backwards to your demise.

Rafayel's eyebrows furrowed, and he moved with reflexes that surpassed even those of Xavier, grabbing onto your outstretched hand that had reached out instinctively to save yourself, his free arm coming to rest on the small of your back. Hand placement, hand placement, hand placement- "Are you alright?" He asked, gazing down at you with his unchanging expression. You realised then, on closer inspection, that his eyes were a mix of magenta and wine, a combination you never knew would look so captivating.

Fuck, his hand felt warm on your lower back; the heat from his hand managed to pass through your clothes, "Huh? Yeah… Uh, thanks- again for saving me this time." Once you had regained your balance, he let you go, but you didn't miss how his touch lingered ever so slightly. You watched his eyes leave yours, confused by the look of longing you found there.

You opened your mouth to speak, not yet sure what you would say, and as luck would have it, you didn't have to use your last three brain cells to utter a response. Your phone beeped, telling you your schedule for today still had a routine check you had to attend. "Damn." You mumbled, looking up as Rafayel stepped away from you.

He nodded, standing in place for a few more seconds as he gazed at you before he turned on his heel, silence following as Rafayel left you wordlessly, walking off with his brochure. You were still too caught off guard, not wanting to call after him with nothing to say. Fuck, you were sure there was something you were missing. You held the container in your hand before you, only then remembering the fish you were given.

That was it, you forgot to give it to him. Well, you had a new pet you had to take care of. You just hoped you hadn't changed too much of the storyline.

Unfortunately for you, small ripples had the power to create big waves.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Rushing over to Akso Hospital in time for your appointment, you focused on breathing through your nose and getting your heartbeat under control. You were lucky you made it just in time since you had to find a fish tank for your new pet, food, bring the fucker back to your apartment, set everything up and not forget your medical report on the way out.

You noted that the hospital didn't feel like one; it looked more like a law firm. The only thing out of place was the receptionist at the front desk dressed in nurse scrubs. You were glad you got close enough to look at her name tag before you spoke.

"Hi, Yvonne. I'm here for my appointment with… Dr. Zayne? Is he still here?" You hoped to everything that he wasn't and had gone home. Out of all the male leads in the game, he was definitely the one you were most nervous to meet. He was a main character- and to top it off, his backstory meant he knew the MC.

Zayne had met the MC when her grandmother took her in; you were sure the two of them were neighbours or something- and that, by default, meant he would pick up on the fact that your mannerisms were different to the woman he was accustomed to. Fuck's sake. You had debated whether to miss your appointment on the way to the hospital but decided against it.

You'd run into him sooner or later; you would rather bite the bullet as soon as possible. Get it over and done with. "Don't worry, all checkups are in the system, which sends out notifications- Dr. Zayne can't forget them." Hah. So he hadn't gone home, and you were going to have to see him. Great.

You debated taking a seat in the corner where the waiting area was for a second to save yourself from standing in awkward silence next to the reception. The nurse looked up momentarily, her hand hovering over the computer's keyboard. "You've known Dr. Zayne for a while, right? I'll transfer your call over so you two can get started." She stated as she pressed a button on the front desk's phone.

You desperately wanted to refuse but had no legs to stand on. What could you have said? No, you didn't know him- the woman whose soul was in this body yesterday knew him? "Akso Hospital, for a brighter future." An electronic device sounded over the phone, and you knew in that moment that your fate was sealed. No turning back.

"Good job, you were ten seconds away from being a no-show." Zayne's voice followed, and you fidgeted with the paperwork in your hands. "At least I managed to get here." You mumbled, feeling like a kid getting a scolding from a parent. It didn't help that his voice was thick, a low timbre that was deep but didn't grate your ears.

Biiig breaths, Y/n, big breaths. "Don't worry, we have five seconds left." You wouldn't run for the bus if it was rounding the corner- what made him think you would run for him? "That's not fai-" He cut you off, still counting down. "Three, two-", and you were off, bounding down the hallway, not wanting to make things worse for yourself.

When you pushed past the doors and first entered Zayne's office, disinfectant was all you could smell. You scrunched your nose slightly at the assault on your senses, glancing around the room to find the man who had rushed you. Your eyes landed on him, gazing down at the computer's interface as he sat in his office chair.

You were floored. Utterly gobsmacked and starstruck at the mere sight of the man. His jawline looked as if it would give you a papercut if you traced it with your finger, his black hair was parted perfectly at the side, and fuck, those glasses really did it for you. "Congratulations, you weren't late. Is this impeccable timing a new Evol ability of yours?" He remarked, still typing away on his keyboard. When you didn't answer, too busy checking him out, he looked up at you.

Your lips parted slightly- the game did him no favours; he was beautiful in person. So handsome it hurt, with looks that could knock the air out of you. You looked away first, finding it hard to hold eye contact with the man. "I showed up, didn't I?" You retorted half-heartedly, sounding less confident in your words than you would have liked.

An uncomfortable silence fell as he continued to type away, returning his attention to the monitor before him. You walked over to him, sliding your medical report onto the desk between you, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place.

Normally, you were grateful when a message from- whatever power placed you in this world- materialised in front of you. Not this time. You turned your attention to the pop-up screen on the desk, obstructing your view of the paperwork you had set down moments earlier.

"MAINTAIN PHYSICAL CONTACT FOR 15 SECONDS.

REWARD WILL BE GIVEN ONCE THE MISSION IS COMPLETE.

A BONUS PRIZE WILL BE GIVEN IF TIMER EXCEEDS.

PENALTY FOR FAILURE TO COMPLETE WILL BE DIRE."

Okay, fuck whoever decided- what the fuck did they mean physical contact? And a penalty for noncompliance? You ran your hand through your hair, tongue in cheek, as you silently seethed at whatever deity was messing with you.

You turned your attention to Zayne, your features softening as he pushed his chair back slightly. "Report." Was all he said, looking at you through the lens of his glasses. You wordlessly bent down, pressing the "ACCEPT" button- because what else could you have done- as inconspicuously as possible.

The pop-up screen disappeared, and you pushed the medical report closer to Zayne, hoping he hadn't noticed anything was off. He picked it up, skimming through it before something caught his eye. "Any changes recently?" Yeah, maybe the fact that you woke up in another world the night before- you couldn't say that, though. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking off to the side when he glanced at you.

You had to think up a good enough lie that he would believe. "I've had patchy sleep, nothing big." Zayne's eyes narrowed at your words, and you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sleep-wake syndrome… That's cause for concern- you do know that, don't you?" You didn't have it in you to care; you were too busy thinking about how you'd have to touch him for more than 15 seconds or face the consequences.

"It's 'cause I was nervous for my first day at work, I'll sleep like a baby tonight." You hyped yourself up for coming up with a fib so fast. He raised an eyebrow at your statement before going back to flipping through your report. "Ignoring medical advice about sleeping like it's nothing. I suppose you're just here to go through the motions." Zayne placed the papers down and moved his chair closer to his computer.

At first, you were offended by his words until you realised he was right; you had come here just to get it over and done with. Damn, you had no comeback. Except one- but it was risky… Fuck it, the impossible had happened overnight; this was your world now- what was the point of thinking and regretting? "Of course not. I came to see your handsome face." You leaned forward with a small smile to sell your sentence.

You placed your hand on the arm closest to you, thinking you'd shoot two birds with one stone. Zayne blinked, raising his head to look at you before he looked at where you two connected. His gaze narrowed at you, and you cursed yourself for the decision you had made. His fingers came to rest above yours before he gingerly moved your hand from his arm, and you swore you stopped breathing when he paused before he let go.

The tips of your ears started to burn, and you prayed he didn't notice the colour travelling to your cheeks. "Patients aren't supposed to flirt with their doctors, you know." He said nonchalantly, but you didn't miss how his jaw clenched. Your lips parted before you could contemplate what to say. "...Yeah, but it's not like you're just my doctor. I've known you long before today- or did you forget?"

Technically, you weren't lying; you knew a lot about him through the game, but you couldn't act on any of that knowledge- even though you wanted to. And let's not forget, he didn't know you. He knew the MC, who was now gone thanks to some prick who made a mistake with your places in the universes.

Now that you thought about it, out of the three male leads, wasn't he the one who had feelings for the MC before the game started? He shook his head at your words, sighing to himself. You didn't get to retort; the pop-up screen showed up yet again, now hovering in front of the curtains at the back of the room.

"PHYSICAL CONTACT: 9 SECONDS

6 SECONDS REMAINING."

Nice, there was a loophole. You didn't have to continuously touch Zayne for 15 seconds; you just needed to hold onto him here and there, and the time would accumulate. Okay, that was easier to work with. Movement in your peripherals caught your attention, and you shifted your gaze as Zayne moved to the other side of his desk, leaving his computer behind and effectively blocking your view of the pop-up. "Sit over here, please." 

You let out a "Hm?" in confusion- unsure of what he was asking of you. Zayne cocked his head to the side, "Listening." So... being vague was another one of his talents. At least you understood that he wanted to check your heart rate. "Sure thing, Doc." You remarked as you walked behind his desk and seated yourself on the little stool in front of him.

You watched as Zayne took the stethoscope's end out of his pocket and placed the tips into his ears before leaning in to listen to the beating of your heart. A small blue hologram, sort of like a loading screen, showed up on the side of the stethoscope on cue as the device synced itself. You raised your chin slightly when you felt his hand graze your rib, your stomach dropping like you took a dive off a rollercoaster. He was really testing your self-control.

Hopefully, he wouldn't find anything of suspicion. Fuck, he was too close, and you were so close to losing all willpower. You had to say something; the silence and his movements drove you up the wall. You inhaled softly, "I think I'm fine. My first day was stressful, but it's not like I'm ready to be hospitalised-" Your rambling was cut short as he hushed you, and you pursed your lips. So much for that option.

His brows furrowed ever so slightly in concentration, and you couldn't help how your eyes trailed to his lips. "Don't talk, but you should still breathe." Zayne finally looked up at you, and the inhale you took at his words got caught in your throat- you were sure your pussy did the 'thing'. 

You had thought his eyes were amber when you first saw him, but with how close he was, you realised they were a bright hazel, a mix of green and orange that blended seamlessly. Zayne moved closer, moving the tip of the stethoscope across your chest. You tensed when his finger grazed your boob, your breath hitching at the touch. "A fast resting heart rate. What riled you up this time?" You swallowed, trying and failing to steel your nerves before looking up at him. 

"You must be hearing things." You supplied meekly, cursing yourself for not sounding more believable. Zayne looked back up at you, raising his eyebrow, and you were sure you felt your cheeks warm but refused to acknowledge it. Clearly, he didn't believe you. Your only option was to be honest- well, semi-honest. "What do you expect when you're so close?"

He sighed, taking the stethoscope out of his ears and letting it rest on his neck. You opened your mouth to clarify, hoping you hadn't pushed his buttons too far, but you never got the chance. You didn't get to brace yourself as you felt your vision swim and your body go weak. You felt faint like you were barely there. Oh, fuck. The stress of everything that occurred that day finally caught up to you. 

You felt your world tilt sideways, and through blurry eyes, you watched Zayne reach out to you, trying to grab you in time. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for an impact that never came. Instead, you opened your eyes to having your face buried in Zayne's shoulder. He had pushed his chair closer to you since the distance between you was short, and he had his arms wrapped around you tightly so you wouldn't fall. You rested flush against his chest, no way of escaping his grip- not that you'd want to.

You breathed him in, your mind still trying to process what had happened. Zayne had caught you, thank god, and saved you from getting a concussion. Your heartbeat hammered against your ribcage, but you ignored it, enjoying his warmth while you had the chance. He moved back slowly, his arms still wrapped around you as he searched your face.

Zayne's eyebrows unfurrowed themselves when he realised you were okay for the most part. He closed his eyes before he leaned forward, and you were sure he was going to kiss you- so you did the most rational thing in your mind. You braced yourself, closing your eyes only to feel his forehead against yours. 

"No fever..." He trailed off as he moved back, and your eyes fluttered open, trying not to feel embarrassed at your thought process. As if you were ready to throw all logic down the drain and kiss him, unbelievable. "Must be low sugar levels." He stated before his eyes met yours. His gaze fell from yours, and you caught how he looked at your lips for a second before clearing his throat and letting go of you.

"Try not to faint again, hm?" Your ears burned at his words, and you wished a hole would open up and swallow you whole. He turned back to his computer, sliding a sweet to you before going back to typing. You felt your stomach flip at the gesture, completely enamoured with the man before you and his silent concern as you ate the treat. If Wanderers didn't do you in first, you were sure his presence would take you out.

"Heart arrhythmia, premature ventricular contractions, heart murmurs, and now low blood sugar." Zayne voiced aloud, and you had no fancy retort for him. "Damn..." You trailed off, and there was no smart comeback on the tip of your tongue this time. You took a peek at the pop-up screen still in front of the curtains.

"PHYSICAL CONTACT: 1:36 SECONDS

0 SECONDS REMAINING.

REWARD FOR COMPLETION WILL BE HANDED OUT ACCORDINGLY."

You breathed a sigh of relief that at least one thing had gone your way that day. "Despite being aware of the risks, you still became a hunter." He remarked, turning his chair to face you. "I had my reasons, didn't I?" You shot back, the flashback from Azure Square still fresh in your mind. He sighed at your response, turning back to his computer, clearly frustrated by your career choice. 

"Linkon has been the safest it's ever been under the watchful eyes of our skilled hunter, Y/n." You snorted at his response, not expecting the dry humour coming from the rock of a man in front of you. He side-eyed you, and you shot him an innocent smile, feeling less embarrassed at the physical contact the two of you shared earlier. "Who knows? Maybe my skills will come in handy, and I'll end up saving you from a Wanderer one day." You retorted half-heartedly as you leaned closer.

Zayne looked back at you, taking you in for a second before he shook his head slightly. "If you wish to hold something over me, then I suggest you be careful while out on the field." He placed another chocolate on the desk, on top of your paperwork, before sliding the pair towards you. "I'd prefer not to see you be airlifted to the hospital via helicopter." He turned to you once again, his expression still serious.

You shot him a small smile- you had been nervous to meet him at first and had forgotten in the process that he was the biggest softie in the game. He just hid it really well under his cold demeanour. The man in front of you was genuinely concerned for your safety, and you were sure you could feel your heart melting at his quiet gestures and vague words.

"Don't worry, Zayne. I'll be careful, just for you." You announced, your eyes softening as you stood up from your seat and popped the chocolate into your mouth. You grabbed your medical report, turning on your heel to leave, not knowing that if you had waited just a second more, you would've seen the starstruck look on his face.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Once you took an elevator up to your apartment and unlocked your door, shutting it behind you, you debated passing out on the floor. Fuck, what a long day. Who knew meeting such handsome men in the span of a few hours would take everything out of you. You sighed, finally relaxing as you realised you didn't have to interact with anyone else until tomorrow.

You walked over to the fish container you had brought earlier, tapping it lightly with your fingernail to see if the Flamula fish would move at the vibration. It looked up at you for a second before it went back to swimming back and forth in the water. You fed it the recommended amount of food for the day after briefly looking at the back of the fish food you had grabbed from the store.

You kicked off your shoes, too tired to place them neatly by the door before you entered your bedroom to strip out of your clothes. You huffed, finally out of the tight-fitting outfit, grateful you could breathe easier. You fell backwards onto your bed, enjoying the way it made your body bounce for a few seconds before you felt yourself sink into the memory foam.

The sound of distant thunder had you tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of lightning strike across Linkon City. A storm, huh? Good thing you were indoors. Your thought process halted at the sound of your phone going off, and you shot up in bed to grab it and answer in time.

Your eyes barely registered the caller ID- Caleb, before you swiped right and picked up the call. Putting it up to your ear, you let out a, "Hello?" The voice on the other end spoke up, and god damn, he sounded like pure sin. "I knew you'd still be awake. What're you up to?" You glanced around the room, unsure how to react to hearing your- MC's childhood best friend.

"Resting after a rough day, I guess." You answered after a moment, not sure what else to say. "Your first day of hunting. Well?" He was curious, you could tell. You turned to lay on your stomach, the phone still up to your ear as you watched the view outside your bedroom with half your attention. "It wasn't that bad, I'm just exhausted. Social interaction isn't really my forte."

You knew you had to be easygoing with Caleb- you couldn't sound stiff because this body you were in knew him well. "Well, that's good. What matters is you're alive." You snickered slightly at his words, "What do you think I am, a weakling? And why are you calling me so late? Don't you have things to do?" You teased, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the fact that the person he knew his whole life was gone, replaced by you.

"I should be cruising along. My military flight operation wrapped up quite nicely and ended early." You nodded, not registering that he couldn't see you as you hummed in response. "You didn't see any dangerous Wanderers, did you?" You hoped you hadn't made a mistake and that his work was similar to yours so your question didn't sound out of place.

"Are you actually worried about me?" It was his turn to tease, and you scoffed at his remark. "Yes, of course I am." You answered truthfully; you weren't heartless enough to wish ill upon the guy who was supposed to be your best friend. "Come on, I know how important it is for you to visit Grandma with me at the end of the month. Even if I was in a wheelchair, you'd push me there."

You shook your head at his statement, "I'm not that mean. I'd let you wheel yourself there, don't worry." He let out a genuine laugh, choking on his words as he understood your reply, and you couldn't help the grin that took over your features. "Yeah, yeah. You know what- it's been peaceful, so I won't jinx myself. The field within the tunnel is as stable as it can be. Very few Wanderers, don't worry." You could still hear the smile in his voice.

You turned onto your back again, gazing up at the ceiling as he continued, "Everything else is top secret. My lips are sealed." You hummed again in response, familiar with workplace confidentiality. "Yeeep, mysterious and spooky." The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, one he broke after a beat. "It's late. You should go to bed now. Sweet dreams."

After saying your goodbyes, you threw your phone on the other side of the bed. You checked your alarms for the next day, setting multiple just in case the first one didn't wake you up before you turned off the lights and got into bed.

Tossing and turning before you found a position where all your limbs were comfortable, you let your eyes close, hoping sleep would kick in.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

You didn't realise you had dozed off until you woke up. Your vision was blurry at first, and you rubbed the sleep from your eyes before you realised all you could see was white for miles. What the fuck? Were you still asleep? Lucid dreaming? Sleep paralysis?!

Your answers came in the form of a woman whose face you were sure you recognised but couldn't quite place your finger on. She had materialised in front of you, looking around before her eyes landed on you. A light bulb went off in both of your heads simultaneously as the two of you realised what was going on.

"THE REWARD FOR MISSION COMPLETION HAS BEEN GIVEN. 1 MINUTE, 36 SECONDS, AS WELL AS A 5-MINUTE BONUS FOR EXCEEDING THE TIMER.

WE HOPE THIS PROVIDES CLARITY."

You quickly accepted the pop-up screen's words before turning your full attention to the woman in front of you.

"You're- You're her. MC." The woman before you was drop-dead gorgeous and had nothing on Jenna. Her hair framed her face perfectly, cascading past her shoulders, not a single lock out of place. Her eyes shined as if someone had stolen stars from the galaxy to place them inside her irises, her lips were naturally red as if she had lip tint on, and she had the longest lashes you had ever seen.

She smiled softly at you before she parted her lips to speak. "Hi, it's nice to meet you." You were star-struck. Was falling in love with her an option? Probably not, but you would have been grateful for the choice if it was there. "Hi." You didn't know what else to say. Sorry for taking your body and your life?

Yeah, that was definitely a good place to start. "I'm sorry for…" You trailed off, hoping she would understand what you were trying to say. She shook her head slightly, looking down as she contemplated what to say next. "It's okay, I uh, I actually wanted to apologise too, for…" You sighed; this whole situation was impossible.

She looked up at you, her brows furrowing softly as if she was afraid your exasperation was aimed at her. "It's not your fault; it's whatever brought us here. Don't worry." She perked up at your words, happy to hear that your frustrations weren't because of her. "At least we're back in our own worlds, even if it took time."

You nodded at her words because even if you weren't happy about your situation, you had no choice but to accept it. There was no turning back the decision the universe had made for you. "How is- how is everything?" You asked, curious as to how she was coping with what used to be your life. "It's great, actually, I've never felt so at home. I didn't expect it, but it's everything I asked for." She claimed, fiddling with her fingers as she looked down.

She perked up, looking more excited as she went on, "And, do you know TikTok?" You nodded, confirming that, of course, you knew of the biggest app of your time. "I managed to go viral on it. I don't even know how I was just experimenting, and boom! Apparently, I'm an entrepreneur, and people want to sign music labels with me!"

You were stunned at first but smiled softly at her, happy she wasn't struggling. You had to agree; you knew how she felt. You felt in that moment as if a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Standing in front of you was the only woman in the whole universe that understood what you were going through.

You opened your mouth to speak, wanting to ask her more questions, but your voice caught in your throat as an all too familiar pop-up screen showed itself.

"1 MINUTE AND 36 SECONDS, AS WELL AS THE BONUS TIME HAVE PASSED.

YOU WILL NOW BE TAKEN BACK TO YOUR WORLD, AND THIS POCKET DIMENSION WILL CEASE TO EXIST.

WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOUR PRIZE."

There was no option to accept this time, and you leaned sideways to catch a glimpse of the woman you had been dying to meet all day. She began to disappear, starting with her legs. Her lips parted, and you strained your ears to try and hear what she had to say. "Please, keep a look out for the red ey-" The rest of her sentence sounded garbled, like a PC game glitching.

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to understand what she meant as your surroundings collapsed in on itself. You reached out to try and grab onto whatever was left of the woman before you, only for your eyes to shoot open.

You sat up in bed, still trying to wrap your brain around what had just occurred, only then noticing that your alarm had been going off. You would have to contemplate later; you had to prepare for your first official day as a Hunter before anything else.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

➵ next part - moonstruck (coming soon!)

The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 horrorhot-line

[godslino]

i am so obsessed with your writing style and im so happy to see that you like to write kidfics because i don’t see them often !! could you write seungmin as a dad?

sending love <3

alright. kenzie gave me dad!seungmin brain worms. everyone enjoy (i certainly enjoyed writing it) and let me know if this deserves to have a continuation

TINY HANDS | seungmin dad!seungmin. request. 640 words.

Tiny hands.

It’s the one thing Seungmin will never get used to—ten fingers, ten little fingernails, soft skin that he can’t get enough of.

“What are you doing?”

Seungmin looks up just as you’re walking into the living room, freshly showered and hair still damp. Beautiful as ever.

He doesn’t allow himself to be distracted for too long, immediately turning his attention back to the sleeping baby in his lap. His baby.

“I’m counting her fingers.” he says, rubbing his thumb along each individual digit. He could get lost in his own head like this, comparing the size of his own hand to the borderline microscopic ones that your daughter has.

“Well, does she have them all?” you ask as you burrow into the armchair across from him, “Because if she doesn’t then I have a phone call to make.”

Seungmin chuckles and brings one of her tiny hands to his lips, places a small kiss on her knuckles. “Don’t worry, they’re all here.”

Everything about her is so delicate. Seungmin was scared at first, worried that she’d break if he touched her. Born two weeks early, she was smaller than anything he’d ever seen before. Seungmin couldn’t believe that he had a part in creating that, in making a human so beautiful, living proof of your love for one another. It’s still surreal to him, like a dream that he hopes he never wakes up from.

Once he got over his initial fear that he’d accidentally hurt her, Seungmin never spent a second without her close to him.

Sometimes you scold him, tell him that she’ll never get used to sleeping in her crib because she’s always nestled into the crook of his elbow. Even when he’s doing things around the house, he baby wears like a champ, has her pressed up against his chest as he parades around the living room in what was supposed to be your swaddle carrier.

“That wasn’t a gift for you, idiot.” Is what Minho had said the first time he stopped by and caught a glimpse of Seungmin with it on.

“He literally won’t take it off.” you laughed, grabbing the bags of groceries out of Minho’s hands so he could shuffle over and coo over her sleeping figure tucked into the fabric, a proud look on Seungmin’s face.

Seungmin doesn’t know how he’s going to do it when she gets bigger. What if he never gets to carry her again? What if she doesn't want him to carry her? What if her hands grow so much that he can’t hold both of them in his own anymore? Seungmin’s thought about it so many times, has driven himself to tears over hypothetical situations that are eons away from ever happening.

Seungmin holds his daughter like he has the world in his hands. He rubs his nose against her cheeks and smiles when she blinks at him, makes noises that have her opening and closing her mouth in an attempt to copy him. He takes an endless amount of pictures that eat away at the storage on his phone but he really couldn’t care less. He sings to her when she cries and laughs when she burps after every feeding session. He whispers stories to her about how the two of you met when she wakes up in the middle of the night and he has to rock her back to sleep. He hopes and dreams that one day, when she’s older, she’ll know that his love for her extends much farther than any distance imaginable.

Tiny hands. Ten little fingers. Seungmin watches as they wrap around his own and smiles brighter than the sun.

When you eventually move to snuggle up next to him, your head against his chest as you both sit with a finger curled inside of each of your daughter’s little fists, nothing else matters.

This is love, and it’s Seungmin’s to keep forever.

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[satocidal]

hi I hope you’ve been doing well <3 could you possibly write Gojo making female reader! cry during s^x and her using her safeword? basically the aftermath of that as well. tysm 🫶🫶

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“Careful There!” — Gojo Satoru

Synopsis:- You should’ve known better than to tease him—I mean, I don’t blame you but I don’t blame him either; so now you’re all tied up for him, and his pleasure alone. He’ll push you right over the edge—slowly, but just as carefully, he’ll bring you back too.

— word count: 2.6k

— An: Heavily, like heavily inspired from this thing I heard once💀 I mean, yk. I can’t even find it now but like core memory lmao. And also because mean Gojo is an all time favourite of mine so- sorry not sorry. Hope you like it Anon baby<3 also like it’s very stretched out and the build up is sort of a lot? The main shit is at the end so lol💀

— Tw: !MDNI!AFAB!Reader; Porn without much plot; degradation (reader gets called whore, slut, etc); implied sub-dom dynamic; impact play (like three(?) pussy slaps; spanking); hair pulling; praise; use of safe-word; Mean Gojo+ Soft Gojo; mentions of filming/pornography; mentions of Nanami; All characters are of age; use of sex toys; crying (reader cries; use age of “sir” when referring to gojo; feminine nicknames used.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you knew it everytime and yet no amount of warnings would ever be enough for you to learn- would it?

That’s how he saw it, he loved it, oh Satoru loved it oh, so much, perhaps beyond compare, when you went out of your way to tease him —but sometimes, just sometimes you got out of hands. That gentle teasing wasn’t gentle— the dirty little whispers were all too loud, the back talk was entirely rude and his reputation was often ruined.

Satoru barely cared though, most of the time, he didn’t at all for you were all that mattered to him and he, to you.

But there’s only so much a man of his temperament can take, only so much even the strongest can endure—especially if you go out, a smirk plastered on your face as you wear the smallest- skimpiest piece of clothing in your closet—the one he bought for you and then ignore him all day while you chatted away with his colleagues—With Nanami.

Arms pressed together in front of you, you bent a little too well—cleavage so deliciously evident, Satoru watched you then, an amused smirk adoring his lips—you continued making aimless conversation with the younger blonde, loving just the effect you had on him—loving just how uneasy you were able to make him with a small pout of your glossed lips and movement just to inch closer to him.

He watched still as you bounced away to seat yourself next to Kento during lunch, fingers playing with your hair as you batted your eyes at him—Satoru only watched.

He wouldn’t ever be described as a jealous man, after all, but cruel? That could find its way a couple of times.

So, He watched still as you got on your tip toes to kiss Kento’s cheek to greet him good-bye and he watched as you winked at random strangers in the street, aware all too well that with Satoru looking beside you, not a single soul would even dare to walk your way.

But then he watched still as you whimpered, his fingers grasping your hips a little too roughly- a bruise sure to be found the next morning while he lead you through the street to his house—he watched pleasantly still as your face contorted, another whimper ready to befall your mouth as he pushed you onto the couch.

“Bend,” his voice, a command and you knew everything that was coming.

There is a time for everything and you had gained experience enough to realise that being a brat was not the perfect time when Satoru lost his smile around you—and yet, a brat remains a brat.

You grinned and you raise a brow—“No,” your lips spelled out—and that was quite literally all it took before his massive form towered on you, eyes a tad bit darker than the usual.

His brows raised now— “We can do it my way or your way,” his voice was stable, “just know that neither is going to be easy for you.”

A lip bite, eyes averted- he watched patiently as he’d done all day—and a moment later you found yourself bending over the arm rest.

“The silly brain of yours is actually working Hm?” It was rhetoric, but obvious and yet you had fought each urge of yours to mutter a “more capable than yours.”

The issue lay with the fact that you fought and fought and lost, finally muttering it a second later with a grin on your face—Satoru loved it.

No words escaped him this time, rough hands working fast to push your head deep into the couch, raising your hips to get better access—spreading your legs to shame you a little too much.

“Tell me,” he mused, smirk all too evident, “if I inspect your pussy right now—will i find it wet?”

You had also learnt over the years of dating him that there was no right answer to this question—not even silence.

“No,” you lied instantly, curious to where that would lead you—he hummed, fingers just then prodding deep at your panties—soaked.

Squelch!- the room was so quiet, the sound so prominent, Satoru couldn’t help but smile wide—“Let me rephrase, how soaked would it be?”

Your face burned at that instant, eyes shying away to even look up at his shadow—“He got you wet doll?” His voice deep- fingers teasing your entrance through the material of your wet panties, “You’re so easy as to get this wet by him? And he didn’t even reciprocate your advances baby,” his words were mean, fingers meaner in the way they avoided your clit- in the way they avoided touching you just how you wanted.

“It’s not fair is it?” You could feel him squat down—face right at your panty-clad pussy, breath hot, teasing—“you tried so hard, he probably wanted to fuck you there on the table when you bounced your tits for him—” his other hand just then grasped your thigh, spreading you all the more for him—“but yaknow’,” his fingers landed a quick slap on your cunt—“I’m generous right? Maybe I should film you tonight yeah? Make the prettiest little videos and share it to him—oh, why just him? I could show my pretty whore around to everyone,”—another slap—“That’s what she likes right?”

He couldn’t see you, sure, but he knew you all too well, he knew your teeth were clamping down hard on your lips, your tight little hole clenching and moans begging to be let out.

You heard him hum again, “I don’t think you can take me tonight doll,” your eyes widened—“Toru’ please!” Another slap—sharper.

You let out a groan—“I’m sorry sir,” you instantly mumbled, “Please please please, I can take you, gonna take you so well—wanna be your-”

“-Fuck toy?” He interrupted your rambling, “Wanna be my plaything? My pet?”

You nodded immediately, then and there—any and every ounce of shame having left already—“Beg,” he got up from behind you—walking painfully slow as he admired the view of your upturned ass—“Beg just like I’ve taught my pretty slut.”

And that was your cue, body lifting off the arm rest, not even daring to pull down that tight fabric of your skirt to compose yourself—just falling on your knees instantly—Satoru manspreads all the time, an invitation to do the obvious—but you just find it 10 times hotter when he’s mad at you.

You crawled in between his legs—hands reaching up to undo his pant—to beg properly—your fingers fumbled around the button when—“Did i say you could do that?” His voice was sharp, condescending.

Your eyes widened, hands retracing their path immediately—“Sorry sir,” you muttered under your breath—he sighed.

“You’re never gonna learn, are you? Never gonna realise your place Hm?” He leaned towards you, fingers gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together—“Whores are dumb right? You’re a dumb whore right?” You couldn’t help but nod helplessly, eyes boring into him.

He chuckled at that, faux—“Do it, like I’ve taught you to,” every word was punctuated by his foot judging your thighs, “Yes sir,” your whimpered.

And just like that, you found yourself raising yourself just close enough his clothed crotch, Palms rubbing at his hard-on, “Use yourself in the right manner,” you heard him say and you sighed, it would in fact prove to be a long night.

Your face found itself moving close to his crotch, his musky scent registering inside you well, a scent you loved—all together, you could feel his fingers grip your hair gently, pressing your face roughly at his crotch. You couldn’t help but gag- your body itself trying to back off as your nose filled in with his scent, and it got harder to breathe.

You heard him ‘tsk’ at your attempt and his hand pulled your head roughly away from him—“What have I told you doll?” He sounded like a disappointed guardian with his tone, “You can gag all you want, cry too, but never back away yeah?”

You nodded, remembering his instructions well, “Sorry,” you muttered and he shook his head- “Let’s do it again yeah?”

His voice was so gentle, so opposed to how he was in the moment as he bucked his hips into your face, tears lining your eyes as you did your best to keep your face pressed to his crotch.

“Good slut,” he finally muttered, as he let you back away slowly, “This what you wanted to do to him yeah?”

“No,” you shook your head quick, “Never.”

He scoffed—“get up,” he prompted- watching lazily as you scampered around him, “To the bed and I wanted you naked and in position,” it wasn’t anything new- you’d heard him say it all the time but just the way this time he didn’t smile, just the way it wasn’t a text either, just something about everything told you that it would be a different night.

———

Your teeth bit down on your lips hard—the pressure building on your cunt slowly, ever so slowly, it ached.

“Toru’” you whined—a sharp sting—your head tilted to the side while your cheek beared redness form his slap, face scrunching in pain.

“Sorry,” you mumbled—voice barely audible—you lay there on all fours, naked, ass raised in all its glory—red and marked with his handprints—his.

“And I dared to think I've taught you better doll,” his teeth were gritted, jaw clenched as his hands pumped his own cock slowly—savouring your sight.

“Such a needy cumslut you've proved to be hm? Just begging for attention— can't even take my name right,” another sharp slapped he landed, grabbing and squeezing your ass roughly—“so wet and messy when I haven’t even used my damn cock,”

You could only groan as the slow buzz of the vibrator in your cunt increased.

“Sir please,” you begged, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease wanna cum so bad I’m so close,” all falling to deaf ears as he did nothing but squeeze your ass.

No words—before you could even realise what was happening you felt his fingers spreading your folds—so pink and puffy and pretty, he sighed at the sight.

Your shame and embarrassment only grew as he got close, nostrils inhaling your scent and he spat on your slit—“Don’t even need it, do you?” He voiced our loud—“Greedy little slut.”

You couldn’t help but let out a high pitched gasp the moment his tongue contacted with your clit right after his words—your back arched, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks as you tried holding onto your release.

“Gonna cum sir—please,” your voice was shaky now, the feeling was overwhelming, and you knew you were approaching your limit.

But not yet- you could take more, right? And so Satoru continued, tongue lapping onto every last corner of your folds—the vibrator long forgotten and removed.

“You cum tonight without my permission and this whorehole of a pussy you’ve got will not milk me anytime soon yeah princess?” He’d pulled you up now, closer—sweat and tension heavy in the air as he grasped onto your throat and pressed your back to his chest.

You wanted to shout no, you wanted to say you’d be his good girl but in the way his fingers bullied your pussy—his cock had not even touched you yet—the angry tip leaking Precum—in these ways you could only babble.

Soft moans and whispers of his name leaving your mouth, head almost empty of all thoughts.

He didn’t seem to notice yet—not for a while, you already had shifted though, slowly losing control over your body.

“Turn,” he prompted—you complied accordingly, dying to be validated, dying to hear him call you his good girl.

He pushed you into your back instantly—your eyes were still puffy, tears and drool marking your face—“such a needy, filthy one you are huh?” His voice was meaner now—your eyes, dazed.

“I could replace you, you know,” in an instant—too mean—what did he mean? Your thoughts spring fast—replace you?

“I’d have a million people lining up you know, far fucking better at this,” tears lined your eyes again, not of pleasure or pain this time—hurt.

Your thoughts ran wild—had you been that rude to him? You wondered as much as your tiny fucked out mind could manage—was he really angry at you?

“No,” you whimpered—his cock lined up at your entrance finally—and just as you were getting what you’d care we all day, you didn’t want it.

Not anymore.

But you hadn’t said it yet- not your safe word—Satoru continued, his vok pushing deep into you.

Your eyes rolled back, fingers clutching onto the bed sheets beneath you as you but your lip—“Toru!—Fuck, s’much, wait,” your pleas seemed empty, hollow.

He thrusted in again, deep—almost pulling out before coating his cock with your slick and pushing in deeper—you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Red!” You screamed—his eyes widened, pulling out of you instantly, guilt all too evident.

Silence crept in slowly, for a good minute only the buzz of the forgotten vibrator sounded in the room.

Satoru held your form close, palms sweaty and clammy, the scent of sex heavy in the air—“You alright doll?”

You shook your head, his heart sank.

“Shit,” he began, “I’m sorry I didn’t- I didn’t notice-”

“-would you actually replace me?” Your voice was small—eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you—“what?”

Confused—until it came crashing down—“Of course not princess,” he smiled, hands stroking your hair, “You’re my only one you know that right? Only one.”

His voice was firm—eyes scanning for any bruises that may make you uncomfortable as he kissed your forehead—“Anything I say during sex is highly superficial ok?”

You nodded—he chuckled, “I’m sorry,” he paused, “did I get too rude? Mean? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head again, earnestly, “You couldn’t,” he smiled, “sorry,” he mumbled again, softer against your skin.

“S’fine,” you mumbled back—“let me get you cleaned up?” His eyes gazed at you—“unless you wanna…?” A mischievous smile played at his lips—“still haven’t given my princess her climax, have I?”

You giggled—you loved him.

“I’ll take that as a yes alright?” He giggled this time as he fared his hand through your hair, “you’re the prettiest and the best girl you know?”

You smiled, so did he.

“And I’m so proud of you too,” he continued, laying you with your back on the bed, “Such a brave little doll yeah? My doll.”

And let’s just say if he didn’t get you to cum instantly on his fingers, with all that praise you’d have done it anyways.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[fshigur0]

ripped threads — suguru geto x fem!reader

ᯤ part two of heartburn; you have to read part one to understand the situation in this one.

pairings: suguru geto x fem!reader, platonic!satoru gojo x reader (only mentioned)

synopsys: "... you have definitely lost your mind and you wonder if there ever is a turning back from this — if you will ever find a way to cut the thread that has inevitably tangled itself around your heart."

warnings: spoilers if you've only watched season 1 of jjk! also i don't really mention the lore in its entirety! pure angst (tinies amount of fluff), slight mentions of death (major character!), dark & suggestive themes !!

a/n: i cried while writing this. i love him so much it hurtss, i decided not to add smut just because i want to hurt them further. pls enjoy and let me know!!<3<3

word count: 2k reading time: 8 minutes

It has been a few weeks since you have last seen him, and you can still reminisce how his lips felt on yours — not too rough, warm to the touch and with a sweetness you had never expected. 

You thought he would taste of tears, ashes or alcohol. You vividly remember how as teenagers the sharp aftertaste of nicotine on your tongue would make you wrinkle your nose. Yet, his lips were a delicacy you wish you could savour every day. 

You realize how much you love being held by him, inebriating yourself with his scent drenched in incense with just a hint of conditioner. You love it, but not quite: his perfume is suffocating, flooding your lungs until it washes over your brain with a wave of past memories you only wish you could forget. It reminds you of your lost youth, reminds you of his former self. It reminds you of your Suguru.

"Y/N." Satoru utters — he knows, how could he not? You have changed and the bags under your eyes are more prominent. You haven't been sleeping well, or maybe you haven't been sleeping at all.

"Have you seen him?"

"No."

"Have you been sleeping?"

"Yeah."

Your eyes stare at the ceiling as you lay on your best friend's bed. It's enough and he doesn't investigate further — although he notices how your thigh trembles and how you nibble your nails. He doesn't want to force it out of you even if he wishes he could just tell you to drop the act. And you know he's aware of what happened, yet it's easier for the both of you to act like you don't.

Your friendship with Satoru is one full of yets and what-ifs, but this doesn't seem to bother either one of you. He sometimes texts you out of nowhere and asks you to hang out, or calls you simply to know whether you got home safe. You appreciate it, but what you're feeling is nothing the Six-Eyed can fix. 

There's nothing left to fix.

For the past few weeks, you've been waiting in front of your doorstep. It's December, and the frost has covered everything in a thin line of white — it's really cold, but a few more minutes won't do you much harm. The wait has become your nourishment.

You hope for just a glimpse of him, yet your eyes are always met with nothing but the tiny flakes of snow falling down the sky. You hope for him to visit you back even if it's to hurt you even more. You're so desperate for him, you accept the twisted fate of his presence only bringing mysery upon you.

But if it's him, you would welcome even Death.

You sigh and a small cloud of vapour disperses into the air. You have definitely lost your mind and you wonder if there ever is a turning back from this — if you will ever find a way to cut the thread that has inevitably tangled itself around your heart.

"You will catch a cold in this weather."

The phrase is enough to make your heart skip a beat. You turn your head and your gaze softens at the sight of him: if only you had enough strength, you would push him away, you would shut your door and forget about him. Yet, the only thing you yearn for is for him to hold you in his arms.

"Suguru." You murmur, his name a reminder of the absurdity of your situation. "You're here."

He doesn't respond. He's standing at the entrance of your garden, hands in the pockets of his coat and long strands of hair covering his face. There's something extremely beautiful about his figure standing out in the whiteness of the snow; it's almost as if he's an apparition, some sort of miracle.

"I shouldn't be."

You bite the inside of your cheek — the few meters separating you feeling like a valley of unsaid words.

"But you are."

A low chuckle. "Yeah, I am."

An awkward silence follows and it almost feels like the world has frozen as the two of you stand in front of each other, eyes observing and analyzing every detail of your bodies.

"I came to say goodbye." He states, his attention fully on you. You look extremely fragile while playing with your fingertips, your skin exposed to the cold. He would take your hands and kiss them until they stop trembling. He would, but he does not.

"Where are you going?"

The innocence in your inquiry inflames his heart with a warmth he hasn't experienced in years.

"Nowhere," he takes some steps forward, his boots leaving footprints in the snow, "But I think it's better this way."

"You think?" You scoff and that doesn't surprise him. "So you came here just to abandon me again?"

"I'm not abandoning you... I'm setting you free."

You're taken aback. You see how his expression softens for a moment, his body merely a few centimetres from yours. He stretches out his arms and puts his hands on your shoulders, tightening the grip on them.

"Please let me do that, Y/N. Allow me to do that for you."

What he's asking of you is impossible — actually, it's extremely selfish. You've craved his touch for years, you've wished to know where he was or if he was okay, and now that you've finally got him back he wants to slip out of your life again. It's cruel.

Sorrow does not take long to mingle with resentment. You push him back, although he does not flinch much. He expects this from you, it's only natural.

"Have you ever cared about what I think? About what I want?"

"Caring about what you think or what you want won't change anything, Y/N. What do you want me to do?"

You turn around and head to open the front door, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, unwilling to reveal that he has succeeded in his intent to destroy you once again.

You try to slam the door behind you, though this does not happen. His hand holds it firmly, you lift your gaze and meet his eyes: there is no understanding, but you decipher an undertone of desperation hidden in the intensity of his expression.

"Do you want me to erase the things I have done? The people I have killed?" There's urgency in his tone as he furrows his brows, "I can't fix the irreparable, Y/N, there's nothing left to fix anymore."

Your lips tremble, reality catches you off guard and nearly takes your breath away; you are still struggling against his strength, in a mere attempt to close the door. But by now he is inside your house and there is nothing more you can do except listen to him. If you could get at least one sound out of your mouth right now, you would.

Suguru runs a hand through his black locks — they look extremely silky and soft. He exhales sharply, and you do too: you realize you have been holding your breath.

"You said you didn't care," your voice only a whisper, "When I said that I didn't love you. You said you didn't care."

"I do care, I never stopped." He confesses as he lifts your chin with his index. "That's why I have to do this, I can't be selfish anymore, not if it's you."

You want to believe him, you wish you could. You really want him to care as much as you have cared for the past decade. Yet, despite his words of sweetness akin to honey, you can't help but notice their bitter aftertaste.

But you find yourself to be inescapably addicted to that bitterness only he can serve you. You want your heart to be broken, if it's him who's tearing it piece to piece.

Your breaths are the only sound heard, if you could hear the pounding of your hearts, then you would probably understand the effect you have on each other. Suguru hesitates before his hand caresses your cheek, the tenderness makes you quiver.

"Please, hate me. I need you to hate me, to forget me."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, the sincerity in his voice alarms you.

"I can't. I never did, I never would."

As you say that, he places one hand on the small of your back, pushing you toward him before his arms encircle your figure. He presses you against his chest, holding you close as if it were the last time, as if uniting in one hug all the years you have been apart. Your hands shyly find his back, until your fingers clutch the fabric of his coat.

That familiar scent of incense relaxes the muscles in your limbs.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, but I don't want you to forgive me. There is no need for you to do that."

His voice is hoarse in your ear, his warm breath makes your heart sink into an ocean of memories.

"There really is no space for us in this world, isn't it?" A wobbling smile manifests on your lips, undaunted tears carve your face.

You're still clinging onto hope, still clinging onto the ghost of him.

"If only I could have saved you," You run your hands through his hair, "if only I could have prevented what you've become. Do you think– do you think there could have been a world where we are happy?"

"There..." He hesitates trying to find the right words, but soon realizes there is no right way to say that, "There is no world where we are happy, but there is also no world where I don't love you."

He pulls his bust away to look at your face, his lips come close to your forehead where he places a kiss. He keeps talking, relishing every remnant of you in your sweet scent.

"My soul will always ache for yours, no matter where you are."

Suguru cups your cheeks and selfishly decides to kiss you one last time, breaths synchronizing and bodies longing for each other's warmth. This is the irony of your love: you are like the Sun and the Moon up in the same sky but never to meet, like two galaxies that are destined to increasingly stray away from one another.

"Promise me that as soon as I walk out this door, you won't think of me no more." He pleads, and you subconsciously shake your head but he holds you firmly. "You won't look for me, you will forget me — promise me that."

If only you understood that he never wanted that. He never wanted to abandon you, to disappear out of your life, to hurt you; Suguru Geto only wants to be by your side, to live a happily ever after he knows will never exist.

He only wants to be yours. Yet, he has to sacrifice that to save you from drowning along with him. He has done that ten years ago, and he has to do that again. Just for you, only for you, always for you.

You slightly nod, not finding enough strength to speak. Maybe not even finding the words anymore.

"You were always this stubborn." He pats your head and chuckles, the corners of his lips curving into a genuine smile.

The warmth of him is suddenly replaced by the coldness of his absence; you don't even hear the door close, but you know he is gone.

. . .

December 24th. Christmas Eve of 2017.

You realize from the look of him that Satoru did not come to you without a reason. There is always a reason, only this time it is different: he is standing in the doorway and his eyes seem lost on the details of your room rather than on you. He cannot look you in the face, how could he?

Your ears start ringing as he speaks, his words becoming muffled. Your legs become extremely mushy and your knees give out — you try to hold on to something that is not there, while a hand clutches at the height of your heart.

The thread entangling your heart coming loose. Somewhere, in another world, Suguru Geto smiles.

©fshigur0

[sweethartlullaby]

omg i loveeeed the cheating boyfriend scenario! so well written! please make a part 2 🥹🥹

word count: 1063 genre: angst this is part ii to the cheating boyfriend scenario!find part i here find part iii here sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist songs: too sad to dance - jeon jungkook

He’s stumbling a little too much and that means he has drunk too much. The bottle in his hand is slipping and he knows that he has to go to the bank if he wants some more. 

It’s been three weeks now since you chased him away and he is still trying to live with his stupidity. He cannot believe he has lost you. He cannot believe he let you go. He spends his days at work, slaving away to avoid the single thought of you. And he usually spends his nights drinking alone at home, fixed in front of a screen playing a video game or a movie. He tends to avoid the latter, since all he has in his home are the ones you like.

He trips over his feet and laughter escapes him. The sloppy kind that makes it clear he is too wasted to be on his own. He throws the bottle down the street, hearing it crash against a lamppost. 

How similar we are.

He keeps walking, tripping over his steps every now and then and having to hold onto door handles, lampposts, and trash cans to gain his balance again. He finally stops when he sees it. The warm orange light pouring onto the streets, welcoming him inside. 

The man goes in before he takes a look around. He doesn’t know how he got here but it must be fate. Whatever it is, he is too drunk too care. Everything sways around him as he staggers into a seat. 

As he figured, there’s not a lot of people left. You two would often meet here, in the 24 hour library that the both of you call your home away from home. He lays down on his arms placed on the table and looks at the empty seat across him. If he squints, he can see you typing away on your laptop or writing in your book, murmuring things to yourself that only you understand. 

He sighs and buries his face into the bend of his elbow. Why is he here? He isn’t supposed to be thinking of you. It hurts him too much. 

He hates that he’s a shitty person. He hates that he cheated. He hates that he hurt you. If he can go back to change it all, he will. If he wakes up tomorrow and you’re next to him again, he’ll never let you go. But instead he’s here, crying across the seat you should be in, sobbing as quietly as possible because he’s scared that if he cries too loudly, he will not stop. 

I miss you so much, damn it.

He wishes the alcohol was enough. He wishes that it can erase you. He wishes it can take him back. He wishes for so much. He wishes he can meet you and start over. He wishes that you were here to comfort him. He wishes that he wasn’t him. He wishes that he did better. He wishes that you got a better version of him. 

He cannot count the amount of times he has cried for you in his bed, or the amount of times he has woken up startled, hoping he can feel your warmth. The amount of times he has murmured apologies in his sleep. 

He closes his eyes and prays that you’re okay. He shuts them tight and hopes to rid himself of his sins. 

And soon enough, he falls asleep. 

He wakes with a backache and with blurry vision. Then he looks around to check where he has ended up this morning. He doesn’t remember anything from last night. After a stretch in his seat and a sigh, he reckons he probably smells like alcohol and dirt so he gets up to leave. 

But something catches the corner of his eye and he sees a book. He must’ve been staring at it for too long because a worker calls out that someone had left that for him last night and told them it isn’t to be taken away from him. 

The man opens the book and as soon as he reads the front page, he feels as if his head clears. 

“Isn’t this the sweetest thing?” You show him an opened book and on the front was a message along with the title, ‘learning from your mistakes’.

“You weren’t one” He reads and he shrugs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, looking over the page fondly. 

“Well, what if it’s stupid to forgive the person who made the mistake?” He asks, setting his book down then going to wrap his arms around you.

��Well you see…” 

He doesn’t remember much of what you said. Fate and whatnot, all he knew was he didn’t ever have to worry about losing you because he would have never made a mistake like that.

He traces the lines written on the page and he feels like crying again. And this time it’s sober and raw and real nonetheless. His chest heaves up and down as he sobs onto the book. 

He misses you so much that it aches inside of him. He cannot breathe through his tears and all he wants is to reach into the pages to go back to that moment. He wants to hear your voice again, telling him the exact words that are on this page. 

It’s the only way he can learn to forgive himself. It’s the only way he can live on without hating himself and every fiber that he is made of. It’s the only way he doesn’t tear the skin that holds him together. He doesn’t know if you will ever forgive him. He doesn’t know if you will ever trust him again. 

He knows he has to try; that this is a sign to do so. But he’s afraid that you will shut him out and that this is in vain. But love, love is often a shot in the dark. He can only walk through these steps with caution until you tell him that you’ll let him in again. 

He brings the book home and he places it by his nightstand. Every night before bed, he looks at the words and he remembers you. He’s trying to not make it hurt anymore. He’s trying to be stronger for you. 

And every night, he prays he will be that man for you. 

a/n: AHHHHHHHHH MY FIRST ASKKKKK i was so excited when i saw this that i just had to write it immediately. please pardon any mistakes. i hope you enjoy this! i didn't want to write a makeup scene because i feel that it will be too fake but if that is something that you want please let me know!

[nicoline1998enilocin]

If you're still taking requests, could you write this prompt 21. “sit on my face” with husband!RDJ?? Thank youuu

Pleasure

PAIRING || Husband!Robert Downey Jr. x Wife!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 850 words

SUMMARY || You're not sure how long you've been at it, but everything seems to have blurred together at this point. Minutes feel like hours, and hours feel like minutes as Robert pulls every ounce of pleasure out of you that you have to give.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || RPF. Age gap. Established relationship. Explicit sexual content.

SMUT || Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Oral (F receiving). Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Aftercare.

A/N || This is written for my Summer of Drabbles. Nonnie, as soon as this idea sprouted in my brain, I practically took it and ran with it, so I hope you enjoy the way this filth came to life. I know I did. This is not proofread; any and all mistakes are my own. 🤍

Photo: @ccbsrmsf1 || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Robert Downey Jr. || Summer of Drabbles

You're not sure how long you've been at it, but everything seems to have blurred together at this point. Minutes feel like hours, and hours feel like minutes as Robert keeps the same pace as you're practically folded in half underneath him, a layer of sweat adorning your body as he's building you up to yet another orgasm.

"Doin' so well for me, Gorgeous, fuck. Daddy loves being buried in this tight, dripping pussy," he grunts as he noses along your jaw, and your grip on his biceps intensifies as you clench around his cock.

Around the time your third or fourth orgasm of the night hit you like a train, you have lost count, and now, all that's left of you is a mindless puddle in your husband's arms.

"D-daddy," you slur out, not able to form sentences anymore. The pressure inside you is building with every stroke of his thick, veined, and curved cock inside you as he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, but you're not sure there's anything left inside you to give. Robert would beg to differ, however, because he knows you're about to cum for him again.

"C'mon, you can give me one more, just one more, and then I'll let you sit on Daddy's face as he licks every last drop of cum from your sweet pussy," he reassures you, and that's the only reason you're even able to keep going at this point.

For someone nearly twice your age, he has an impressive amount of stamina, and you're more than happy he does, even if it means that you usually turn into a babbling mess for him.

"Let go for me, Gorgeous, let go for me, and I'll be right there with you," he reassures you, and with the last bit of strength, you let yourself fall off the edge of pleasure, your cries dying on your husband's tongue as he kisses you through it.

He holds you together when it feels like you're falling apart completely, and you've never been more grateful for him than you are right now. He works both of you through your orgasms, his cum leaking out of you around his cock as he does, but he doesn't mind in the slightest.

Once you've regained some strength, he turns you both around until you're lying on top of him, a dopey smile on your lips as you look into your husband's dark brown eyes.

"Hi, Pretty Girl. Welcome back," he says as he kisses along your jaw and over your cheek, sending a flurry of butterflies through your chest.

"Do you want to sit on my face?" he asks, even though he already knows the answer. You nod before making your way up his body with his help, and you grip the headboard once you're in position. As you lower yourself onto his mouth, Robert groans in enthusiasm, and you let out a pornographic moan at the feeling of his mouth and tongue as he works over your well-loved hole and sensitive clit.

You slump forward towards the large headboard, thankful for it to hold you up while your husband keeps you steady on his face, the sound of him slurping your combined arousal and cum being like music to your ears. While he has officially pulled every last orgasm out of your body, you're still enjoying yourself as moans and whines leave your lips.

Once he has taken every last bit of pleasure out of you, he helps you gently onto the bed, where you sigh deeply for a moment, and Robert can't help but smile.

"You did so well for me, Gorgeous. You've been such a good girl for me," he says as his fingers glide over your cheek, your eyes shut, and a small smile still on your lips. He grabs a warm, damp towel to clean you off before getting back in bed with you, getting a much-needed nap together.

Once you wake up, you see that your husband is already awake. He's been looking at you with a loving gaze as you've been sleeping.

"There she is, my beautiful wife," he says, peppering small kisses on your cheek as you giggle softly. Your throat is still raw from the way he pulled every last sound from you, but it's still like music to his ears.

"I'm going to run you a bath and grab some fruits to enjoy while we're soaking in there. How does that sound?" he asks, and you nod in response, followed by a small peck on his lips.

Once you're comfortable in the tub, your husband behind you as you sit on his lap, you let your eyes slip shut for a moment while he feeds you champagne-infused strawberries. Contentment slips over you both as you enjoy the moment, and you're grateful that you get to share the life you do together.

It may be hectic and unpredictable at times, but moments like these will always make it worth it. There's nothing better than spending quality time with the man you love in the bath, after all.

[prawndip]

Acting Grand…?

CHARACTERS: Alhaitham, Jean x gn!reader

TAGS: fluff, written before the release of 3.4 but didn't finish until afterwards, sumeru spoilers in general maybe

SYNOPSIS: being acting grand-somethings is tough work.

WORD COUNT: 1 123

NOTES: saw that alhaitham had become the acting grand sage in the trailer and knew this had to be written. also trying a new format with this one. also I'm so sorry jean's is so short in comparison to alhaitham's every time I went to write for her my brain was empty. also *cries* lost the 50/50 on alhaitham's banner. still draggin him home anyways

ALHAITHAM:

honestly you had expected that alhaitham would turn down the position of sage. you had also expected his work to increase tenfold as he waits for new sages to take office.

what you didn't expect was the way that alhaitham seemed to handle everything with such efficiency. where most people might have crumbled under all that responsibility, alhaitham appeared to be taking it all in stride. not that it was a bad thing. you were kind of impressed, actually

thing was, this mean he spent a lot, and I mean a lot of time in his office in the akademiya, and as his lovely partner, you make it your duty to "distract" him at least twice a day.

The smell of freshly cooked food makes its way through the Akademiya hallways. Students who follow their nose finds it leads them to you, happily strolling through the Akademiya to the office of the scribe, where your boyfriend has been cooped up in there all day doing a copious amount of paperwork. You’re surprised he still has time for anything else.

You approach the door to his office, knocking on it thre times, waiting for him to say something before opening the door. Faintly, you hear a ghostly, quiet “Come in.” from the other side. You frown, opening the door with a bit of concern.There he was, sitting in his office chair, with stacks of paper all over his desk, more than you remember seeing last time you were over. He seriously looked like a ghost in his seat. He looked fine this morning, what could have possibly drained him of all his energy in such a short time? He looks up to see you and a little bit of colour returns to his face.

“So, how is Grand Sage Alhaitham doing on this fine afternoon?” you joked, and he groans as he rests his head in his arms. “What, did they give you more things to do?”

“For the last time, I am Acting Grand Sage.” he clarifies, despite knowing you’re joking. “And they did. I have to review all the possible candidates for the new Sages.”

He sounds tired. He knows he sounds tired. He's been at this all day, all week even. You continue to frown a little despite your lighthearted attitude, pulling up a chair to sit next to him. You get a chance to look at what he was writing before you walked in, where although he had been at this for hours on end, his handwriting was still as neat as always. Still, you could sense that he was in need of a break, and you gently move the papers over to the edge of the large desk to place the food you bought on it.

He sniffs the food, a soft yet weary smile spreads over his face, the kind of smile only you are lucky enough to see on most days. "Curry shrimp?"

"Mhm! Just got it made fresh too!" you open the box up carefully, the scent of the freshly made food wafting throughout the office.

"Just in time. Here I thought I'd die of starvation otherwise." he said jokingly, despite the fact you had dropped by only a few hours, and he had only left his seat once since then, to drop off some papers. “Thank you though, I was wondering when you’d stop by.”

It was anything but silent between the two of you as you ate, simply taking the time to enjoy each other’s presense while things were slowing down. The papers were briefly forgotten about as you chatted about your day with him, and though he was most certainly listening, all that was on Alhaitham’s mind was how wonderful it was to be with you.

“Is something wrong?” you stop your rant about that annoying merchant you saw on the way where when you noticed a look on Alhaitham’s face was he tired? Bored of you? Instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, much to your surprise.

“Nothing. I just miss you, is all.”

JEAN

despite your best efforts to try and get her to do things otherwise, jean is incredibly stubborn, and takes on way more things than she can handle

of course, she does spend her off days with you, but on the days where there's lots to do and not enough time to do them, jean still manages to do all of it - at the cost of her sanity.

although you stop by multiple times a day to visit her, it's not uncommon for you to find her asleep in her office at the end of the day.

The sun had long since fallen behind the horizon as you entered the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. You had hoped Jean would be done by now, but it was one of those days where there was just so much she needed to get done, and you had just figured it was taking longer then usual. Still, you decided to check up on her.

You gently knock on the door to her office, quietly calling out her name. No answer. Frowning with concern, you open the door, and your expression softens at the way that the acting grandmaster had put her head in her hands, and you can slightly hear the sounds of her snoring softly. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for he to fall asleep on days like this, though you see that almost all her work seemed to be done.

"Jean?" you gently tapped her on the shoulder, your voice barely a whisper. "Jean it's me. Let's go home now."

She rises from her slumber, shaking away any drowsiness you may have had. "Y/N... how long have I been asleep for? what time is it? did I leave anything unfinished? Did I-"

"That doesn't matter," You begin to organize Jean's papers into a neat stack, setting them to the side, and you don't dare let her touch a pen to get back to work. "It's late now, and you need to get some proper rest for tomorrow, ok?"

Reluctantly, Jean agrees, taking your hand as she gets out of her chair, though she takes one last glance at her work before leaving her office altogether, shutting off the light.

As the two of you leave the Favonius Headquarters together, you can feel the way that Jean's head lull's to the side, resting it on your shoulder. She mumbles something that you can't quite understand, and you assume it to be about her work.

Truth be told, Jean was mumbling about how much she loved you. No matter how busy her days would become, the last couple hours of the day with you were already the best part.

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 32

word count: 544

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

April 7, 1990

Dear Will,

I hate everything about my life right now. I especially hate that you still have a fucking chokehold on me after you literally ruined my life two weeks ago. That phone call between us destroyed every single cell of hope I had left in my body… or so I thought. Because here I am, alone on my birthday, getting drunk in my dorm room and writing a letter to you. And I’m a hundred percent certain this time around that you’ll never read it, because in your words, I’ve done enough. Whatever the fuck that even means. What exactly have I done enough of, for you to cut me off forever? Did I love you too much? Have I cried too often for your personal preference? Have I groveled for longer than acceptable? Did I wait too long to call you? Just tell me what I did wrong, Will!

I’m listing all these things out, and all I’m seeing is myself trying to restore our friendship and you just… not giving a shit. I hate you. That’s a lie. I love you. And yet, even though you’re already highly aware of this fact, you still don’t care whether I live or die. If I were a cat, I’d spend all nine of my lives waiting for you. Alas, I am not a cat. I am a mere mortal, with only one life to live. And I don’t even have the will or the Will to live anymore.

My life wasn’t supposed to go like this. I’m just going through the motions, hoping that every tomorrow will be the day that I’ll look up from my crouched position within the caves beneath the Misty Mountains and see My Precious gleaming in a minuscule sliver of sunlight. I just realized I compared myself to Gollum. I mean… it’s kind of hilarious. If I’m Gollum, then you’re the One Ring.

The way I look currently makes Gollum appear to be the picture of health. I don’t sleep much anymore (unless I drink or smoke weed beforehand), so my under-eye bags are more like under-eye duffels. I don’t really eat much either, on account of being sick and hungover all the time, so I’ve lost a significant amount of weight. And somehow, despite all of my physical flaws, Elvis still likes to fuck me. Yeah… so that wasn’t a one-time thing. He and I have been having sex for months. I still try to picture you whenever I hook up with him, but it just ends up making me feel even more depressed.

I think the universe is out to end my life before it’s even begun. Whooo, this tequila is strong. Why is it that people under the influence always somehow end up thinking about the universe? It’s like drugs and alcohol serve as the wrecking ball that breaks the barrier between the material plane and the rest of existence. I’d love to see what you could paint with that concept in mind. I bet it would be absolutely beautiful. But if the universe is gonna end up being the one responsible for ending my life, then what the fuck does that make you and I? Hell if I know.

Love,

Mike

previous letter | next letter

homepage

[littlemarianah]

What's your headcanon for Katniss and Peeta's children?

How old was Katniss when give birth to their daughter?

How many years apart between them in age?

Your headcanon for their name?

Who gets the singing and art skill from their parent?

Bonus question : please give recs of your fav everlark post-Mockingjay fanfic.

Thank you :)

@curiousthg

✨️Oh god! I love this question, thank you so much! ✨️

My favorite headcannon is that the first daughter is very desired by both of them. And they take a long time because they want it so much. They want it to be perfect and at the right time. Pregnancy and postpartum hits Katniss very hard, it's very difficult for her. But after the baby grows a few months she starts to really enjoy being a mother. Willow is such a sweet and smart baby. Fill their house with her cries, then her laughter, then her heavy footsteps, then her questions, then her singing voice. It fills their home with life and happiness that they haven't seen in many years. Peeta and Katniss are able to enjoy life more after she is born, and they fall in love again. The first daughter makes them want a second baby (something that wasn't in the plans).

By my count, Katniss gave birth at 32 years of age, 15 years after the war. And her second child she has at 35 years old. So Rye and Willow are about 2.5 years apart.

About names... Rye and Willow! It's a name that has been circulating in the fandom for a few years and I really love it.

Rye is Peeta's deceased brother, but not only that. It's the name of a food and besides food, the other thing that keeps K&P alive is everyone they lost in the past. Rye is a tribute to those who couldn't get here. And also because when the boy is born, Peeta finds him very similar to his middle brother. A little boy makes Peeta very emotional about missing his brothers.

Willow is for the tree in the lullaby. It's a safe and happy place. Katniss decides on this name after she discovers is a girl. It's a tribute to the little girls in her life who didn't have the chance to become women. It is also a tribute to Katniss's mothers and father who named their daughters after plants, she wants to maintain the family tradition.

About who gets the talents! They both sing a lot, Katniss sang to them all the time when they were young, so they both have a love for music and they both sing. . But Wiilow has Peeta's charisma and loves being the center of attention, while Rye is very shy and only sings when he is alone. So is Willow who always clears her throat and starts singing loudly whenever she has the opportunity. She has a much more powerful voice than Katniss, sings with vigor, and has a deep voice. She's very good at that. In addition to singing, she also writes music. She starts creating rhymes about Rye, making fun of him and singing all day to make him mad. Then when she gets older, she starts to write about all her romantic disappointments. And I believe, she breaks your heart so often that her parents start to worry.

Now Peeta's artistic talents go to Rye. Rye, being a 14 year old boy, loves to say that he is actually a hunter, not an artist. But all of Rye's arches are carved with designs he made. He loves drawing and carving in wood and when he is a teenager his fingers are all injured from the amount he cuts himself doing so. He doesn't draw much on paper, but he's always creating something. Or making bread in the shape of animals. And Peeta is extremely proud about it. He wasn't able to explore his artistic talents at Rye's age, so he does what's best so the boy can. He gives him expensive art supplies for his birthday and always hangs Rye's sculptures on the wall. He's the slobberiest dad ever.

I could talk about toast babies all day.

Instead of talking about my favorite fanfics, I'm going to talk about the post-MJ fanfic I'm writing.

The fanfic is about Willow studying to be an army nurse like Prim was. The world is different now, there are no more wars, but it still makes Kantiss very nervous about the idea. So there's a lot of mother-daughter drama. Willow is very angry and rebellious and Rye is very shy and attached to his parents. It's about the Mellark family dealing with generational trauma and Peeta and Katniss trying to help their children understand the world. And how difficult it is to explain to those children who were raised with a lot of love that there is a lot of hunger and a lot of evil out there. And also about parents who have to let their children grow and mature. It's about love, it's a famfic about family.

Well, it was a very long text, but I'm very happy with this question!

Thanks, non. 💞

[oph3liatlou]

I actually have a request where it’s like Tommy and Ellie reminiscing about the “hunt” for Abby, like post 2nd game what you think they’d talk about even?

— DON'T DO THIS, KIDDO

pairings; post-tlou2!tommy miller x ellie williams

word count; 1, 202 words

warnings; hints of ptsd, one swear word, mentions of death

proofread?; yes.

author notes; pls this isn't a ship post okay 😭also i cried writing this LMAO

summary; tommy confronts ellie about the events of her and abby's fight.

Ellie and Tommy lived together now, neither of them living in Jackson anymore. It was too hard for Ellie to see Dina, too hard for Tommy to see Maria - and too hard for both of them to walk past Joel's empty house.

But life was quiet between the two of them, too quiet.

Ellie never talked about her final fight with Abby and never explained to Tommy why she let her go. She knew what Tommy would've done, she knew that Tommy would've killed Abby like he had asked Ellie to do in the first place.

Over months, the quietness turned to bitterness. Between the both of you, you couldn't find the words.

Was it about guilt, about anger, about shame, about hate? Many things sat in the space that once was warmth.

But neither of them ever said anything. Ellie didn't want to bring up the topic, she wanted to avoid all of that heartache again. She didn't want to be that person still looking for revenge - she just wanted to move past it all and to heal. She knew she couldn't lose Tommy too.

One hot summer day, the two of you set out together on their horses, taking a stroll around. The air around you was thick with tension, yet neither said a word. Tommy's face was scrunched up, a deep frown etched upon his forehead. After a deep inhale, he finally spoke. "We should have a proper talk."

Ellie didn't know what to say, she looked down at the reigns of the horse. "Uh, yeah…" Her voice trailed off - hoping he would continue the conversation.

"Why?" His words were clipped, he was angry but didn't know how to express it, or maybe he knew exactly how to do it. "Why did you refuse to take that final step?" He asked, and though there was no malice in his voice, his eyes were full of anger. "Why did you let her live?"

Ellie felt her throat become dry. She didn't want to explain what happened, and why she had let Abby go. She didn't want to have this conversation. She didn't want to relive it.

"Say it." He demanded.

"Tell me why you couldn't pull the trigger. Just say it."

She could see in his eyes that his anger was masking deeper emotions, emotions that he didn't want anyone - especially Ellie - to see. He wanted her to tell him what had gone in that final confrontation, though not only for Tommy to be the one having to have peace.

Ellie couldn't look at him. She felt her heart racing, every time she thought of those few months, of tracking Abby - of her killing Joel…she would panic. And with Tommy getting angry with her, she tried to control her panic attack.

"I said say it." His words were like bullets, each one firing through Ellie's consciousness. She could see Tommy getting angrier, and more agitated, and she could feel herself slipping away.

Fear and rage consumed her in equal amounts, fear for Tommy and her rage for what they had lost. She couldn't breathe, it was like a tight grip around her throat, constricting the last remnant of a safe place she had known.

She didn't want to relive all of it, she didn't want to-

"She was just like Joel and I-" Ellie started to explain, having stopped her horse in the sunny field they had been trotting in. "When he took me from the firefly hospital..."

Tommy paused.

He took another inhale, and the rage in his eyes didn't fade. Not immediately at least, but it did diminish - a crack in the dam of suppressed sadness.

The horse under him shifted his weight.

"Go on."

Ellie looked back down, trying to steady her one hand as she thought back to all the memories. "She had a kid with her, some scar. They were both hurt, both weak." She blinked back tears, she didn't want Tommy to see her cry.

There was another pause.

Tommy's jaw remained clenched.

The silence was broken by your horse, who shifted and let out a gentle nicker. At last, Tommy spoke. His voice was lower than before, quiet and filled with something, though its origins were not known, whether it was emotion, hatred, sadness, or all of it. "Keep going."

She sighed. "The kid was on the verge of dying, I think. Passed out in a boat, she just - wanted to save him." Ellie kept going. "I realized it wasn't about avenging Joel anymore, it was about ending the bullshit she started. And when I let her go, she carried the boy like Joel had carried me from that hospital years ago…"

There was yet another pause, almost a full minute passed.

She felt a chill in the air from the lack of words between the two of them.

Tommy took another deep breath, and finally spoke, though the volume of his voice hadn't changed. "And...that was enough for you?"

Ellie didn't respond for a moment but, she finally looked up at Tommy. "I heard him." She couldn't hide the tears in her eyes now.

Another moment passed. "What?" He asked, his gaze locked on her.

"When I went to stab her I-" She let a tear fall and roll down her cheek. "Joel. He told me don't do this kiddo."

And there, at that moment, is where his rage faded, and only pure sadness settled into his being.

It's as if with every word she spoke, his facade shattered piece by piece until all that was left was the broken and the vulnerable.

He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with her, his gaze still falling to the ground, though he tried to hide it. "Ellie.." He finally said, his voice cracked.

Ellie just shook her head and took the reigns again, letting her horse walk again.

Another moment passed, and without wanting to talk anymore, both of them fell into a peaceful silence. The two rode back to their house, and their abandoned street - without speaking a word. A gentle breeze touched Ellie's face, soothing her emotions.

It was a while until they reached the house, where they both dismounted and led their horses to the stables. Tommy kept his back to her, and once they had stopped, he spoke. "I'm…

"It's fine." Ellie interjected. The truth was finally out in the open. It still haunted Ellie but, at least she wasn't the only one with that burden.

"Just one more thing.." His words were slow, his tone solemn. "I want to ask."

She nodded in response as she took off the saddle of her horse and directed him back into the stall.

"When exactly did you start hearing him?" He watched her, his expression now softened.

"I-" Her voice cracked so, she patted her horse to try and distract herself. "As soon as he died."

It only took him a moment to reply, his voice quiet and soft once again.

"Me too."

Ellie nodded solemnly in response.

And there, standing in a stable full of horses, the once strained relationship had softened.

Neither said anything else - that was enough.