#//here it is! hope it's alright <3 let me know if i need to change anything

[bloodlinesceo]

Credits: WWE for the pic & @tsunami-of-tears & @strangergraphics-archive for the amazing dividers!

A/N: I couldn't find this song on Spotify 😭 & I thought this would be the perfect theme for this chapter. So I had to use a YouTube video.

Part 1 (if you haven't read it)

Pairings: Roman Reigns (Bf) x Fem! Reader

Tama Tonga (Ex) x Fem! Reader

Summary: Roman gets occupied when fans meet him & The Bloodline. However, Tama takes that as an opportunity to speak with you alone.

Warnings ⚠️: 18+ Fluff, angst, swearing, stress ofc, emotional wreckage, dirty talk, mentions of sex, arguing, violence, past relationship, alcohol consumption & cheating mentioned. Non-consensual kissing. Past beef. The twins have no filter & Roman punishes them for it 😭 Tama is the villain in this, sorry Tama girlies. Not proofread!

Heads Up ‼️ This needed to be separate : Yandere Tama, he gets obsessive, delusional, aggressive & pushy. ( No r*pe it's wrong & I will never write that. Also respect wrestlers to not write that about them. It was tough to write Tama like this, cause we know he's bbygirl IRL).

WC: 3k

Tag list: @wishyouloveme @jstarr86 @reignsboy19 @yana3sworld @rose-bliss

(if anyone else wants to be on the tag list for the next upcoming chapters let me know!).

Of course this is written for fictional purposes only & is based on their characters, it does not depict who they are in real life. Respect to them & their families.

Enjoy ☝🏽

"So Uce, I'm thinking for our next merch, 'cause they the twos & we the ones?" Jimmy suggested to Roman. Roman nodded his head in agreement "I'm interested." "Who's they?" asked Solo furrowing his brows. Jimmy chuckled. "I hate you" scoffed Solo.

"What are we on about?" asked Jey taking a seat after returning from the restroom. "Merch ideas, thinking cause they the twos, and we the ones" said Jimmy, "yeet!" smiled Jey. "Which I don't approve of, so no yeet!" said Solo, Jey waved him off "our merch not yours, you don't have a say in this."

"Maybe I should get them to put yalls faces on it too!" teased Jimmy, "with an X on top" laughed Jey, high fiving his twin, only angering their little brother more. "Alright Jimmy & Jey, that's enough leave your baby brother alone" you laughed. "They're back" whispered Jacob. You looked at Roman, his expression changed from jovial to irritated seeing Tama & Loa coming back to the table, you kissed his cheek calming him down. They both sat down. 

You rested your head on Roman's shoulder, and you swore at the corner of your eye you saw Tama looking at you both with a blank expression. You tried to not let it get to you. You hoped that he's probably moved on by now, and doesn't see you that way anymore, but when Roman mentioned about him looking at you, he probably hasn't. Roman rested his head on top of yours, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You were grateful that you found him.  After joining WWE at the beginning of 2019, you met him when he returned in February & welcomed him back with open arms, praising him & his hard work & how much you look up to him. He was elated. You were immediately attracted to him by his warm & down to earth personality. He welcomed you to the company & wished you the best on your makeup career. He even brought the twins over to your studio to do some face paint on them for fun since they miss it like old times. Your friendship went on from there & then in 2021, that friendship grew into love & you both started dating. Like you mentioned to the 4 Fatus, it has been the best 3 years of your life, and you wouldn't trade it for the world, he is the man of your dreams. The light in your life. 

"I love you RoRo" you said to the man above you. "I love you too babygirl" he smiled. "Thank you for bringing me out here & to the movies, definitely needed this break from school" you said. "Of course" he said "don't overstudy yourself, it's okay to have fun once in a while too, but also keep that focus. That hard work will pay off" You heard someone clear their throat, you looked towards Roman's side & saw Jey with his arms crossed.

"What?" you asked. "I'm sure Big Uce ain't the only one who took you out, who's idea was it? Especially The Waffle House treat" he said, Jimmy agreed with his younger twin "yeah, where's our thanks?" Roman laughed "give them their holy grail" "okay, thank you twins for taking me out too, to the movies & for organizing The Waffle House lunch. You two are the best, yeet" you praised. "Exactly!" said Jimmy. You looked over at Solo "and thank you & your Bloodline for joining us" you smiled, making Solo smile too. "Of course, missed you & wanted to see you." "We love you sis! Go get that degree!" exclaimed Jacob. "Now seeing us hopefully you're all charged up & ready to kick school's ass!" said Loa, making you nod. "Will do anything to see you happy" spoke up Tama. 

Solo's smile immediately dropped, his eyes widened, he looked at Jacob & he shrugged taking another spoonful of his food. "I appreciate that Tama, thank you" you smiled, making him grin too. You felt Roman tense up, you squeezed his bicep for comfort.

"Big hug!" yelled Jimmy next to you wrapping his arms around you & resting his head on your shoulder. "Yeet!" said Jey hugging Roman on the other side. "Your twin cousins are crushing us" you said "I know" whispered Roman shaking his head. "Nice! Let's get this on camera!" said Solo taking his phone out & snapping a pic of you all. "I'll send that to you Y/N, it came out great!" he said.

"Thank you Solo, now Jimmy get off of me you're crushing my bicep!" you said trying to pry him off of you. "My skull's getting crushed" you whispered to Roman "sorry baby" he said lifting his head off of you. "It's okay, I don't mind getting crushed by you just not on my brain. I need that for school" you joked rubbing your neck. 

"Here let me get that for you" said Roman massaging your neck. The pads of his fingers pressing against your neck felt so good. It's like he had healing powers. You couldn't help but let out a moan in content. "Geez, wait until y'all get home" cringed Jimmy, making you flick his forehead "ow! That's abuse!" he said rubbing his head. "Ohh Daddy that feels good" mimicked Jey in your voice. Roman forcefully pulled Jey's hood over his head forcing it down, with a smirk. "I can't see Uce!" he exclaimed fighting him with his arms. He finally let go, going back to massaging you. "Rude" scoffed Jey, "yup" responded Roman. "Look at them tag teaming on my annoying brothers, they're meant to be" smiled Solo, making Jacob nod in agreement.

Tama huffed in annoyance, "what happened?" asked Loa. He shook his head & looked somewhere else. Roman rubbing your neck reminded him of the time he did it to you after your shifts in New Japan Pro-Wrestling. Since there were times you'd be craning your neck down or up to put makeup on the wrestlers, it'd hurt. You'd come home & Tama would be the one to massage your neck hearing you groan & moan in satisfaction which made him move his lips onto your neck, leading to something more. Vice versa, you'd give him massages too after his long & brutal matches at times, he missed it all, he missed your touches. 

After he was done, Roman whipped his phone out & texted the chat while you started talking to Solo. 

Roman: @Jimmy @Jey What's with all the hugging & clinginess??? 

Jimmy: Hey! We meant that! We needed one big hug, especially you Uce! Turn that grumpy frown upside down. 

Roman: @Jimmy stop trying to play therapist. 

Jey: @Roman Tama got all lookie with Y/N again. Uce needed to cover her 👀

Roman: I knew it, it was all for show 😒

Jimmy: I mean a bit, but we still needed one big hug. 

Roman: @Jimmy We're not the Teletubbies, we're leaving now. I've had enough of him. 

Jacob: But I haven't finished! 

Jey: @Jacob Damn, you eat slow. 

Jimmy: @Roman Y/N needed that hug don't you think Uce? She looks much happier now! 

Roman: You're right & that's all I want for her...is to be happy 🙂

Jimmy: Pretty Huuurtsss 🎶

Jey: We shine the light on whatever's worst 🎶

Roman: It's not karaoke night, stop it 🙄

Jacob: PERFECTION IS A DISEASE OF A NATION 🎶

Everyone: JACOB!

"Alright y'all, Y/N & I are gonna be heading home now. She's got stuff to do & so do I" said Roman standing up. You stood up with him wrapping your arms around his waist as he wrapped his arm protectively around your shoulder. "We need rides back home, Uce!" said Jimmy, making him roll his eyes. "You & Jey paid the bill for the meals?" "yes Uce, but you owe us" said Jimmy. "I don't owe y'all anything, you chose to be mean to Y/N so you had to pay for it yourselves" said Roman. "Should've just kept your mouth shut" said Jey to Jimmy. "Told ya he got a big ass mouth why else do you think we don't tell him shit?" said Solo, making his big brother give him a dirty look. "Aww, come on Ro. It was just harmless joke! I make worse jokes to them" you said laughing. "Yeah, and our feelings get hurt sometimes" said Jey fake crying. 

Some fans noticed The Bloodline & came up to take pics with them. "Sorry babygirl, you don't mind?" asked Roman looking at you sympathetically. "Of course not! I'm glad we had some quality time spent together" you said, pecking his lips making him smile. He grinned going up to meet the fans, same with the twins. Fans also came up to the new Bloodline too getting pics & autographs.

You told Jey you're gonna head to the restroom to freshen up & you'll be back, he nodded. You made your way towards the bathrooms what you didn't notice is Tama watching you leave. He saw that Roman was occupied & so were the twins, Solo, Jacob & his brother with fans. He quietly got up & snuck his way towards the restrooms following you. 

You washed your hands, touched yourself up with your hair, makeup & perfume, freshened your breath with mouthwash & left the restroom. You walked 2 steps before you saw a figure in front of you, Tama. He had his arms crossed leaning against the wall, looking at you. Tight fitted black shirt, dark washed jeans, his gold chain dangling from his neck, you froze.

"Hey Tama" you said waving awkwardly at him. "Hey Y/N, long time huh?" he said smirking at you. "Yeah, it has been" you said awkwardly smiling at him. "I'll get out of your hair, you probably need to use the restroom room right? I'll see you later" you said trying to walk past him, but he grabbed your wrist making you stop. "I don't need to use the restroom, I want to talk to you, but not here" he said. You started to shiver. You knew you should've went to the bathroom when Jey went, he would've been by your side coming out. 

"That's nice Tama, but I really can't right now. Roman's probably waiting for me" you said. 

"He's meeting fans right now & is caught up talking to them, we have time. Come on" he said taking your wrist & leading you out. 

"Where are you taking me?" you said. He didn't respond, he lead you towards a patio outside which was on the side near the bathrooms. You tried to withdraw your hand from his,but he wouldn't budge. "I'm not going anywhere with you, let me go!" you nearly shouted. "Shhhh" he said putting his finger in front of his mouth. You felt butterflies in your stomach & disgust within you. "Listen, hear me out. It's been a while since we've last seen each other" he said playing with your fingers. You yanked your hand away from him, making him chuckle & raising his hands up in surrender. "Okay, I guess you're still upset with me" he said. 

"Upset? I'm more than just upset with you Tama, you broke my heart, you cheated on me, treated me like an object. Did you really love me? Cause I don't think you ever did, I bet you wanted me for my body only" you fought. "That's a lie! I've always loved you ma chérie-" Don't you ever fucking call me that again!" you gritted through your teeth, cutting him off. "Ouch, okay, but still hear me out" he said. "What is there to hear out?" you questioned. "COULD YOU PLEASE LET ME TALK?!" he yelled. You were shaken up by his words & stopped. He saw fear within your eyes & regretted his tone.

 "I'm sorry, but please listen to me. Yes, I did a horrible thing years ago when we dated & it was very low of me to do that. I never should've cheated on you & I don't know what came in my head to do that. Even the days I'd come home drunk, I know I get stressed out with work & being away from home, but drinking & begging sex from you were definitely not the ways to cope & looking back at it I'm so disgusted with my past actions. Hell, after you left I beat myself up for it so much. I was a fucking mess without you, you were the best I ever had. I loved you for who you were Y/N, your bubbly personality, your amazing makeup skills, especially the cheetah print face paint you did on me, I adore it so much when I look at those pictures & it reminds me of you, your smile every time I see you, how you were never afraid to speak your mind when you saw injustice, your style, your humbleness, the way you were like my personal cheerleader every time I had a match, the time we spent together-" "okay Tama" you interrupted him "I get it, but please get straight to the point" you said, he nodded.

"I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry for everything for making your life a living hell, for breaking your heart, giving you a hard time. I couldn't even look at myself after what I did to you. My brothers & The Bullet Club gave me an earful after what I did & I know I fucked up bad. I regret losing you & it hurts to live in a world where you hate me, I apologize so much. God, I'm so cruel, I let the best thing go" his eyes started to water up.

"Tama" you said sympathetically. "I don't know what to say..." you trailed. "Just forgive me, that's all I ask for" he pleaded. "Okay, I forgive you" you said, a small grin appeared on his teary face. "But I won't forget what you've done, you really hurt me. I had to risk my job because of this. You made it hard for me to believe in love again. You were not just a love to me but a friend whom I felt I could always confide in & vice versa & not only that you need to apologize to Roman too for the shit you said to him years ago. You can't be near me if you don't respect my man" you said. "I know & I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you. I'm a changed man now" he said. You raised your brow "huh? You mean make it up to us right? Me & Roman?" you said confused. 

"No, give me one more chance, I promise you I won't let you down" he whispered taking a step towards you, making you take a step back. "I thought you said that all you wanted was to seek forgiveness? What's this now?" you questioned. "Yeah, that was to break the ice, but I want to give us another go. I'll treat you like a Queen Y/N" he stepped closer towards you. "Tama, you're getting too close" you panicked. He walked closer towards you, smirking.

"I can't get back with you, I'm dating Roman now & I'm happy with him. We're not letting each other go. You need to move on Tama, please. If I can, so can you. There are plenty of beautiful women out there who will love you. If you've changed, you'll do that & if you truly love me, you'll let me go" you said. "I don't want those women!" he snapped, making you jump. His voice softened "I want you. Why can't you see it Y/N? I miss you baby. I think about you every fucking day." "Please, stop. You need to move on! Roman's gonna be pissed if he sees us! And it's not gonna end well for you" you said creeped out. 

"I don't care what Roman thinks, he's too busy with his fans to even care about you. That's your knight in shining armor?" See? I'm better. I could never abandon you like that bitch, baby" he chuckled, shaking his head. You slapped him across his cheek which echoed throughout the patio. He held his cheek, breathing heavily. "Don't you dare say another word against him, you fucking psycho!" you yelled with tears in your eyes. He looked at you through his lashes, stomped to you, pinning you against the outdoor brick wall of the restaurant, making you yelp. "The audacity you have" he chuckled darkly before turning serious, " I don't give a fuck though, it makes me want you even more."

"Get the fuck off of me, you sick freak!" you shouted attempting to push him off, but he was too strong. "You need me, you miss me, and I know you miss my touch, right my pretty little psycho?" He whispered into your ear nipping at your ear lobe. You pushed his head away. He cupped your face in his hands & crashed his lips against yours silencing your whimpers, he moaned in content finally tasting & feeling your lips after years of craving it.

TBC...

A/N: Feedback is appreciated!

[behyejin]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴀꜱʜ

for @bexsua

the last time hyejin got to hang out with sua was when a frog decided to come near her. she's still appreciative of that and knows she'll return the favor whenever she can. right now, she's ready to spend time with the other girl to enjoy the halloween festivities. sure she didn't know what to do first since there's so many activities going on. she's just glad she gets to go all out with her makeup again and dress up as a popular character again. last year she had chosen to be sally while this year, she's doing her take of a female version of beetlejuice. even went with a temporary green hair dye so she didn't have to wear a wig.

the open noraebang nights intrigued her and she was ready to have a moment for them to sing as well as enjoy the different the refreshments as well as the snacks. sure it wasn't the typical thing to do on halloween but with different spooky themed songs filling her mind, she couldn't resist. "hope you are ready to sing your heart out! i've had the monster mash stuck in my head so perfect excuse to sing it." she laughs a bit as she looks over at sua.

[mad-hunts]

you know if someone came in here, they wouldn’t believe what they’d see?

the sound of heavy breathing, as well as barton's foot kicking the table in front of him, were the only audible ones before jonathan had arrived; someone who he had called while certainly not in the right state of mind as he was so desperate to leave this god damn basement he'd been trapped in for a month. barton was also sick with something, though what, he had no clue. it was probably an infection from one of the wounds his captor had given him but didn't do anything about. there were layers of grime on barton's skin, as well as dried blood, and fresh blood now covered the left side of his face.

this was because he, of course, had ended up killing his captor. and barton had done it in perhaps the most gruesome way possible. however, it was also necessary in a way because they had kept the key to the manacle around one of his ankles around their neck, and they were strong. barton scoffed as he guessed it was only put on one ankle to give him the illusion that he was free to move around. but obviously, that wasn't true at all.

they were a pretty sick individual, which barton unfortunately had to find out the hard way. they'd told him he'd been 'hired to do it by someone with a lot of money and a strong want for justice.' he never did exactly find out who that someone was, but when he got his hands on them — oh, barton was going to make the cruelty he'd endured here look like it was nothing.

now, however, he was retrieving the keys from where they'd fallen on the ground, and that was when jonathan had come in. not when he needed help a week ago when he finally had managed to get a hold of a phone, but days later. as if time wasn't of the essence, and he couldn't have possibly been dead. yeah, as you might be able to tell, barton was pissed that he didn't come when he originally called him. but he supposed he didn't exactly give him much to go on besides what the man's name was, what the area outside looked like, and the house number. he unlocked the manacle then and spit in the corpses face.

the place looked as if a tornado had run through it, honestly, and there was blood still dripping on the floor from barton's face as well as his hands. an incredulous chuckle left him then, ❝ you think i give a shit about what people are going to think when they find this sadistic fuck in here? ahah, oh my god... what took you so long to get here? i know i shouldn't have called your ass, but your number was quite literally the only one i could remember at the time, annoyingly. ❞ he really did not look well. but then again, barton had been holed up in a place with no light and went through torture. he staggered towards jon and looked up the stairs while leaning against them, ❝ nevermind all of that. let's just get out of here, before i hurl. ❞

[scarlctheart]

( freya and pixie's apartment, 6:00 p.m., october 31st ) @hevrtbrexkqueen

Fiddling with the chains dripping with turquoise stones that adorned her waist and hips, adjusting the draping of the white skirt of her costume until it fell over her curves in exactly the way she'd envisioned, Freya gave herself one more assessing look in the gilded, full length mirror before nodding, somewhat satisfied with her handiwork. "Okay... I think it looks alright. It's not a perfect replica of the movie costume, but it should do the trick so people know that I'm supposed to be Kida," the dancer decided, speaking more to herself than to her roommate who was floating nearby, like the burlesque performer was attempting to convince herself that she passed for the fictional princess. But even despite her confirmation that she was ready to leave the basement apartment and join their fellow townsfolk at the annual Halloween festival, Freya couldn't help but let out a grumble, still fussing with the white wig perched atop her head, ever the perfectionist. She supposed it was her cross to bear, now that she had decided to become more passionate about costume design, something that had only ratcheted up in the duo's move to Alaska.

"Pix, you can go ahead of me if you need to. I'm almost done, I just want to put the finishing touches on my make-up," the performer promised, turning from the mirror to face her roommate more directly and offer her a soft smile. Though Freya hadn't exactly been avoiding her dear friend, she couldn't deny that seeing her spend more and more time with a certain blonde reporter had definitely brought out a few barbs of her usual defenses, uncharacteristically bothered by the development. She intended for Halloween to be a good night for the two of them... maybe even as a unit again.

[wrioluvr]

『shhh, not so loud! make me. huh?』 slutty sub yandere x gentle himbo darling, male yandere x male reader

note: thank u all the support on pt 1 ♡♡ was thinking about a scenario where slutty yandere somehow manages to convince his darling to actually fuck him after a lot of begging... even tho reader is scared his large cock will break him apart <3 pt 1

cw: he/him pronouns for reader, mentions of reader's ex-boyfriends, loss of yandere's virginity, implied violence

nervous was the way you were feeling as you made your way to your boyfriend's house. the two of you had started dating a few weeks ago, when after you'd let him suck your dick, he broke down crying, admitted to how desperately he was in love with you, and pleaded on his knees for you to own him and treat him as your personal fucktoy. frantically, you quickly assured him you would treat him as an equal in the relationship, to his slight disappointment. of course, he was ecstatic that you'd agreed to be his boyfriend, but you were his god, how could he not worship such a kind being? in your eyes, despite his rather.... overly submissive behaviour, he was kinda cute, so why not give it a go? if only you knew how deep his obsession truly ran...

and with an progression in your relationship, came a progression in intimacy level as well. the previous day, he had gathered up the courage to ask you to top him, which is why you were making your way to his apartment now. the current fear you were feeling was not for yourself, but for him, you worried that he would hurt himself trying to bottom. you were aware you were bigger than most guys... you wondered how to tell him you weren't too sure about the whole anal thing after all.

but what you did not expect to see the moment you opened the door to his room, was him on his bed on all fours, ass up, using his index and middle finger to spread his tight pink hole towards you. he turned his head around at the sound of your arrival and looked back at you with lust-filled, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. "baby! thank god you're finally here... please fuck me already, i've been waiting for hourssss......." his words came out in a pitiful whine.

your eyes widen at his plea. "woah, okay, let's slow down." quickly, you make him sit up, much to his confusion. he was already ready, so why were you hesitant?

taking his hand and squeezing it gently, you tell him what's on your mind. "okay, uh... i'm not too sure if i want to fuck you right now..."

"wha- but- but why? you promised!"

"i know i did, but i'm worried for you. i know i'm kinda... big, so i don't want to make you bleed or anything..."

at your reasoning, he can't help but whine in frustration. don't you understand? he doesn't care about how much it hurts! he wants it to hurt! his one wish is for you to completely destroy him! usually he'd back down, since he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with his desperation, but he decided to be a little selfish.

reaching over and fondling your crotch, he looked at you with a silent, horny plea in his eyes, then proceeded to sit in your lap and grind on your bulge sensually. he whimpered as your clothed dick got harder and prodded at his hole.

taken back by his sudden boldness, you let him straddle you. "hey... did you even listen to anything i said?"

"forgive me, darling. but i want this so bad. give it to me, pretty please?" he continues to roll his hips on your crotch, not sounding terribly sorry at all.

you sigh, realising you can't change his mind. "okay, just let me know if it hurts, and i'll stop immediately. alright?"

"mhm." but secretly, he'd moan in pleasure no matter how painful it was, relishing in it.

"at least let me prepare you first...?"

"i've been fingering myself for the past hour, you don't need to." he giggled, as he got back down on all fours on his bed, hoping you were proud of his forward thinking. "i want our first time to be special, so i'm fully prepared."

"wait... you're a virgin?" upon hearing your question, he turned his head back to look at you with an incredulous expression on his pretty face, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"but of course, i've been saving myself for you. i don't want anyone else using me." he bit his lip, making sure you knew how much he valued you taking his virginity. he suddenly realised how he'd completely forgotten to ask (or stalk to find out) about your past relationships. "what about you, darling? are you a virgin?" secretly, he was hoping the answer would be yes, but deep down he knew you were far too desirable for that to be true.

"nah. i dated a few guys before, but they broke up with me because they said i was too dumb." you'd never really thought about it deeply, but saying it out loud made you realise that it was rather embarrassing...

"how the fuck could they say that? you're so perfect and kind... forget about them, darling... just focus on me. you won't need to think about those ungrateful whores ever again." his change in tone caught you off guard, grip tightening around your arm. this was the first time he'd ever sounded genuinely pissed off. but this was quickly masked by his usual lovesick smile as he resolved to make you feel so good, your attention would forever be on him and him only.

eagerly, he helped you undress and tried not to blush at the sight of your naked body, even as he relished in the sight of the cock he had gotten on his knees for so many times before. you were confused at his reaction. "we're both guys, why are you embarrassed?" you were so silly sometimes. he was finally going to be made your bitch, of course he would be flustered!

with your cock teasing his entrance, he made his final invitation. "i want you to mess me up inside." he begged as he spread his virgin hole open, groaning in pain and pleasure as you pushed halfway into him. immediately, you looked up to his face in concern. "you okay? it's only halfway in..." "fuck, i said i can take it!" with that, he pushed himself onto your cock with a lewd determination, letting out an overly passionate moan as you fully entered him. instinctively, you shushed him, not wanting the neighbours to hear. "shhh! you're being too loud....." "make me." he retorts defiantly, trying to rile you up so you would be rougher. "huh?" fuck, he was really pushing it today. you really didn't want to, but he was making far too much noise. resorting to muting him forcefully, you reach for his mouth and clamp your hands over it, effectively gagging him. his eyes widen, not expecting you to take the bait, but he's in heaven. you can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he sluttily sucks on your fingers, all that's left is a series of muffled whimpers.

even though your mind was currently preoccupied with the way your boyfriend's squeezing your cock, you can't help but think about your exes after he brought the topic up. you knew you were a little dumber than most, but did all those guys really break up with you just because you were stupid? he seemed to sense your feelings and clenched harder, making you lose focus and grip his hips tightly. the thought of you thinking about your exes while you were inside him was horrible, he couldn't have that at all! "s-see, darling, my ass is much better than those sluts, isn't it- uuummfff." he could barely form words as he continued to ride you up and down, savouring the way your large length stretched his inner walls to their limit. it was quite the stark contrast - you were thrusting in and out of him at a tender pace, making sure you were never too rough (feeling a little guilty for muffling him so forcefully just now), but yet he was whimpering and writhing all over the bed, gripping the sheets whenever you hit his prostrate at regular intervals. he desperately tried to fuck himself on your cock when you slowed down, noticing his tears, begging you to start again. after a bit, you felt like you were about to reach your climax. "hey, i'm about to co-" "do it inside me." you didn't have time to argue as he pulled you closer into a hug, making you cum inside him, much to his delight. he adored the way you filled him up, feeling you pump load after load into his hole. he rubbed his stomach, wishing he could get pregnant with your child. but alas, he can't have everything. today was already a huge victory. exhausted, he collapsed into your arms as you stroked his hair, apologising for being a little rough and hoping his ass didn't hurt too much. he couldn't really focus on what you were saying as he just lay there and stared up at you affectionately. god, you were just perfect, weren't you?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

in the middle of night, as you slept peacefully, the boy you fucked a few hours ago had just finished going through your phone, his one objective being obtaining the names of your exes. "don't worry, darling.... i'll take care of those unappreciative bastards myself. no one gets to make you feel stupid." he whispers to your ear lovingly before getting out of bed. he hoped you wouldn't be too mad when you found out he killed them when you woke up. or maybe he did, just so you could punish him. ♡

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol.  Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night. 

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that. 

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break. 

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?” 

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around. 

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five. 

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much. 

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding. 

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd. 

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal. 

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia? 

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend–

Ping! 

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts – and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart. 

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address? 

Ah, just like clockwork. 

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals – for more than you’d care to admit – to boot up. 

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give – pay – for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress. 

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion. 

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain. 

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?” 

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man – what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character. 

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man itself– or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some. 

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic – the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life. 

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well. 

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin. 

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness. 

 What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.” 

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue. 

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means. 

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!” 

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game,  you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different. 

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.” 

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night. 

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face. 

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker— then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.” 

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%....... 

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez— Huh?” 

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary. 

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever. 

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock. 

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?” 

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face. 

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter. 

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S 

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.  

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” 

Helplessly, you open your inventory next. 

Your jaw drops. 

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This– this can’t be real.” 

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this– this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada. 

Holy shit. 

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes. 

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?” 

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative. 

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks. 

..

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose. 

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut. 

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk. 

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC. 

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning – or until your battery dies, whichever comes first – you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.” 

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

[uzurakis]

hi hi it’s me again!! (yes I’m the nonnie w/the stalker request + ‘my friend thinks ur cute’ request :3) I’m here to request again!! reckless!reader with jjk men (yuta n Megumi yk the deal 🙏🙏) + bonus points if reader hides their injuries too! maybe reader was on a mission; got injured and didn’t tell jjk men, or reader was playing around on a frozen lake not giving af and it begins to crack, or reader straight up doesn’t look both ways while crossing the street n act like they have 9 lives (yuta ptsd fr 😭), or anything you wanna come up with :3 do what you like!

HIDING YOUR INJURIES FROM THEM?

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji.

n. i sure know the deal my beloved meguyuta nonnie (imma call u dat instead). i decided to go with the first idea of yours, i hope that’s okay!

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you returned from a challenging mission, your body aching with every step. despite the pain gnawing at you, you plastered on a smile as you entered the room where megumi was waiting. he looked up, concern etched across his features.

fushiguro megumi has the term ‘worry’ in his vocabulary. he immediately called out, "you…” without saying any ‘hey’s or ‘hi’s, you were able to cut him off with your response. 

"it went alright, just a few scrapes," you replied, trying to downplay the severity of your injuries

but megumi wasn't fooled. his brows furrowed as he approached you, his eyes scanning your form. “you’re lying,” megumi grabbed your wrist firmly as he looked straight into your eyes. "those 'scrapes' look more like serious wounds," he said, you could literally hear him edged with frustration.

you swallowed, guilt creeping into your chest. "i’m fine," you confessed, avoiding his gaze and breaking free from his grip.

megumi sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "you're injured, and you’re still trying to hide it from me? seriously?" he scolded, frustration becoming more evident.

“fine then.”

he looked away, and you felt a twinge of regret at the way he responded. but then there was a change in his attitude. as he reached for the first aid kit, his demeanor softened and his irritation vanished. silently, he whispered, "let's get you patched up," megumi’s voice was soft yet stiff.

as he tended to your wounds in silence, the tension in the room dissipated. his touch was tender, his movements careful as he bandaged your injuries. when he finished, he looked up, green pupils meeting yours.

"you make me worry, you know that?" 

ITADORI YUUJI. you stumbled through the door, trying to hide the wince as pain shot through your side. itadori was waiting, his eyes lighting up as he saw you, but then furrowing with concern as he noticed your slight limp.

"baby, you're back! how did it go?" he asked.

you forced a smile, trying to brush off the pain. "good, thank god it was just a second grade curse," you replied, hoping he wouldn't see through your facade.

your boyfriend, though, remained unconvinced. "are you sure you're alright? you’re limping.”

you hesitated, but his genuine concern melted away your resolve. you felt bad for keeping it from him, but at last you said, "well, there might be a small injury, but it's nothing serious." 

instantly, itadori's expression softened, and he wrapped you in a tight hug that made you let out a small ouch. "don't hide these things from me," his breath warm against your ear. “let me help you tend your injuries, baby. do you need shoko or just an aid kit?”

GOJO SATORU. the mission had been tougher than anticipated, but you knew gojo would worry if he saw how badly you were hurt. so you played pretend and hoped it would be enough. gojo was lounging on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his usual smirk playing on his lips. his eyes, hidden behind his pitch black glasses, seemed to twinkle as he looked up at you. "oi, you're back earlier than i expected."

you nodded, keeping your movements slow and controlled. "yeah, managed to wrap things up quicker than i thought." he tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye. "really? no trouble at all?"

"none," you lied, forcing a laugh. "just the usual."

gojo's smile faltered, just for a second, but you caught it. he stood up and sauntered over to you, his gaze never leaving your face. "hey, you know," he began, voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone, "i can see right through you, babe. you're hurt."

"i'm okay, satoru. really."

he reached out, gently but firmly taking your arm. "don't lie to me." his fingers brushed against a particularly sore spot, and you winced despite yourself. “look?”

"satoru, i didn't want you to worry—“

he cut you off, his grip tightening just enough to keep you still without causing more pain. "hm, too late for that, baby," he said with a mix of irritation and concern. "let me take care of you."

you sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "okay, but just... be gentle, alright?"

he led you to the couch, his touch surprisingly tender as he helped you sit down. "i'm always gentle," he teased, but his eyes were serious as he examined your injuries. "you should've told me right away."

YUUTA OKKOTSU. he eyed you for a moment, his smile fading slightly. "babe, you alright? you seem a bit... off."

"just tired. it's been a long day." you waved a hand dismissively, nothing to worry, you wanted to tell him that.

yet, yuuta's gaze still lingered on you, eyes narrowing slightly. "alright," he said slowly, "if you say so."

you made your way to the bathroom, trying to move naturally despite the pain. you thought you had managed to convince him, but as you stood in front of the stall, trying to remove your clothes without aggravating your injuries, the man appeared in the doorway.

"let me help you with that," he said softly, moving to stand beside you.

you blinked, surprised. "yuuta, really, i'm fine. you don't have to—”" then he gently took your hand, eyes full of concern. "please, let me help you tend your wounds, babe.”

thinking again, you hadn't said anything about being hurt, but somehow he knew. "how did you..”

your boyfriend smiled faintly. "i could tell. i know you too well." his fingers brushed lightly over a bruise that was starting to show through your shirt. "you don't have to hide it from me."

you sighed, feeling a mix of relief and resignation. "i just didn't want you to worry."

yuuta shook his head, his expression tender. "i worry more when you try to hide things from me. so don’t do it again, you hear me, babe?”

@uzurakis

[parkerluvsu]

i am always thinking about art getting a little too tipsy and making his way back to his dorm room, only to find out that patricks got another girl in there.. so he makes the familiar trip to your dorm <3

loud knocking echoes through your room, and you're thankful your roommate is on vacation or else you're sure she would complain endlessly. the knocking continues as you check the time. 1:45am. you mumble and yawn and rub your eyes as you walk to the door, opening it slowly and peeking out. there's art, red eyes and flushed cheeks, hair beautifully messed up from the wind outside. he sniffles. "'m sorry i really didn't mean t' wake you up.. jus' need somewhere t'sleep" he murmurs, grabbing onto the edge of your door for support. you welcome him in quickly, leading him like a shepherd leads his sheep to your bed, sitting him down.

"art.. what happened? it's so late" he takes a second to comprehend what you're saying. "well i wen' to this party 'n patrick left to go makeout with some girl.. 'n then these guys started a drinking game 'n wanted me t' join.. so i did and.." he pauses, obviously embarrassed. "'n then i drank too much and threw up on their lawn.. everyone was laughing.." he whines, looking to you as if you can turn back time to save him from humiliation. "oh art.." you look him up and down, his clothes are messed up and dirty, and he looks absolutely exhausted and miserable. "alright um.. here's what ill do, drink some water art, ill try to find you a shirt and some old shorts to wear okay? you can sleep here" you know you worry too much but in his current state you're worried someone might come along and take advantage of him on the walk back to his dorm.

art drains your water bottle like a man dying of thirst, looking up at you with watery eyes when you hand him some clothes. "my old boyfriend left these here so.. they probably fit you, and im sure you wouldn't want to wear my shorts.." art nods, taking the clothes, but in his drunken state he almost remarks that, no, he wouldn't mind wearing your shorts, the ounce of connection he would feel would be worth the embarrassment. art stumbles up and changes in the bathroom, you hear him knocking around in there for almost ten minutes before he emerges, pulling up the shorts that are almost falling off of his lean frame. with your help, he gets into bed, letting you tuck him in, in such a caring way that makes arts heart beat faster. "im just gonna be over in my roommates bed okay? sleep well art" you can tell that he wants to say something, but after a second he just nods his head and pulls the covers around him.

art lasts about 10 minutes before he's softly calling your name, half hoping you're already asleep so you won't reject him. to his (un)happiness, you turn over in bed, meeting his eyes across the room. "what's up?" you ask, smiling at the familiar whispering across the room that reminded you of many sleepovers as a child. "i- um can you just come over here?" he asks. you sigh, getting out of bed and quietly padding over to your bed. "i can't sleep" art states. you look at your clock placed on your desk, "well it has only been ten minutes art.. just give yourself some time." you turn to walk away but art grabs your wrist. "no.. um.. can you stay in this bed tonight?" if you weren't listening as hard as you would you wouldn't be able to hear the near-whisper that comes out of his mouth. "please?" he whines, looking up at you with those pathetic blue eyes of his. you can't help but agree, crawling in bed behind him, adjusting your pillow. "thank you" art squeaks out, curling up on himself.

now it's you who can't last ten minutes. looking at art, alone and sad tugs at your heartstrings, triggering an almost maternal care for him that you're sure will be problematic later. you move art so that his head is now placed on your shoulder, his warm steady breaths hitting the side of your neck. before you can think about it, your hand comes down to rub his back softly, reflecting that it always helped you fall asleep quick when your mother would do it. you feel arts eye lashes flutter against you as his eyes droop, body melting into yours as sleep takes over his body. you fall asleep only minutes later, secretly wishing that patrick would kick art out of his dorm more often <3

[stylesispunk]

Silent strain | part iv

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Time passes by and Joel still doesn't come back. The baby arrives and you feel lonely.

w.c: 10,5k

warnings: angst, mentions of birth, fluff, mentions of blood, not proofreading. Paragraphs in bold indicate flashbacks & paragraphs in cursive indicate journal entries. Reader cries a lot in this one, we didn't have a good week.

a/n: chapter four is here! Thank you to everyone who take their time to leave comments and share this story, which was supposed to be only 3 chapters but became longer. I hope you like this one. Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Happy reading. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Since you had met Joel, this was the first time you had ever been in a room without him. You were surrounding by walls in a safe place that it was foreign for you, sitting alone on the edge of a bed that you had just shared with Joel the night prior, now feeling impossibly lonely without him around. The weight hit you all at once, the quiet, the loneliness, the reality that Joel had left and you didn’t know if him and Ellie would be alright.

The weight of it hit you all at once, the quiet, the loneliness, the overwhelming reality that Joel had left. That you didn’t know if he and Ellie were alright. If they ever would be. A tight knot formed in your chest, pulling tighter with each passing minute.

Your mind raced, thoughts of where Joel might be gnawing at you. Were they already on the road? Were they safe? Had they run into trouble? You tried to push the thoughts away, tried to convince yourself they were fine, that Joel would protect Ellie like he always had. But the fear lingered, gnawing at you in the quiet of the room.

You stood abruptly, the need to do something, anything, to shake off the growing anxiety driving you to your feet. Pacing around the bedroom, your hands trembled slightly as you ran them through your hair, trying to think, trying to breathe through the tightening in your chest.

But no matter how hard you tried; the worry wouldn’t leave. Each time you circled the room, it felt as though the walls were closing in a little more, trapping you in this unbearable uncertainty.

And then, as you turned again, your eyes landed on something that stopped you cold.

There, on the chair by the window, was Joel’s shirt. Not just any shirt—his favorite one, the one he always wore, the one that had become your favorite too. The sight of it hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from your lungs. You stepped closer, almost as if in a trance, and your trembling fingers reached out to touch the fabric.

The scent of him still lingered in the material, that familiar mix of worn cotton, faint sweat, and the earthy scent that was unmistakably Joel. The tears that had been building in your chest all day finally broke free, spilling down your cheeks as you clutched the shirt in your hands.

Life in the QZ didn’t leave much room for joy. Every day was a struggle, ration cards barely covering enough food, let alone anything extra. But you had managed to save up just enough to get him something special.

The shirt.

You had seen it hanging in the back of a small booth during one of your shifts at the QZ market. It wasn’t much—faded, a little worn—but it had a softness to it that you thought Joel might appreciate. He never said it out loud, but you could tell his clothes were becoming threadbare, the weight of the world making even the little comforts seem unattainable. You wanted to change that, even in a small way.

The look on his face when you handed it to him had been one of complete confusion, like he didn’t quite know what to do with kindness anymore.

“Why’d you get me this?” Joel had asked, his brow furrowing as he held up the shirt, inspecting it like he thought there was some kind of catch.

You shrugged, trying to play it off casually, but your heart was pounding in your chest. “I just… thought you could use something new. You’ve been wearing the same damn thing since I met you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, but his eyes were still guarded, suspicious. “You used your rations for this?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice a little softer, more vulnerable than you intended. “It’s no big deal. Just… thought you deserved something nice.”

Joel stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the shirt like he was afraid to accept it, afraid of what it meant. His gaze flickered to yours, and you saw something there, unreadable.

“Why’re you doing this for me?” he asked quietly, his voice rough, almost accusing, as if he couldn’t believe that someone would care about him enough to make such a gesture.

You took a step closer, your heart hammering in your chest. “Because I want to, Joel. Because you matter to me.”

His eyes darkened, the weight of your words settling between you like a heavy fog. You could see the battle he was waging within himself, the walls he had built so high, trying to protect himself from feeling anything. But the look in his eyes softened, if only for a moment, and something shifted.

Before you could say anything else, before you even had a chance to breathe, he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His hand cupped the back of your neck, rough but gentle, and then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t soft or slow. It was raw, desperate, as if he had been holding himself back for far too long. The kiss stole the air from your lungs, a surge of warmth flooding through you. He kissed you like he needed it, like he couldn’t hold back anymore, and in that moment, you knew that this was more than just a Kiss, it was the first crack in his armor.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Neither could you.

“You shouldn’t be wastin’ rations on me,” he muttered, but his voice was softer now, almost tender.

You smiled, your hands still clutching the fabric of his shirt. “Not a waste. Not at all.”

Joel’s lips twitched, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw a small, real smile.

From that moment on, the shirt had become his favorite. He wore it often, and every time he did, it reminded you of that day, of the first time he had let you in.

From that moment on, you had become the most precious thing he had in the world.”

Tears blurred your vision as you sobbed into the fabric, holding onto it as if it were him, as if it could somehow bring him back. The ache in your heart was unbearable, the reality of his absence crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You whispered his name through your tears, wondering where he was, if he was thinking of you too. If he missed you, and of course he did, you thought. But what was really eating you was his safety. The fear clawed at you, the unknown hanging over you like a dark cloud.

"Please come back," you whispered to the empty room, your voice breaking. But the only answer was the silence, the vast, aching silence that now filled the space Joel had left behind.

+

At the same time, miles away, Joel lay on the cold floor of an abandoned house, his body limp, covered in sweat and blood. His breath came in ragged gasps, barely enough to keep him conscious. The world around him blurred, the edges of his vision darkening as pain coursed through his body. His grip on reality was slipping, but one thing remained constant in his mind: you.

He tried to focus, tried to stay awake, but it was getting harder. The wound in his side throbbed with every shallow breath, blood seeping through his clothes and pooling beneath him. The searing pain was relentless, but what hurt more was the thought of you, alone, without him.

Ellie was beside him, frantically trying to stop the bleeding, her hands shaking as she applied pressure to his wound. "Joel, stay with me," she pleaded, her voice trembling.

Joel’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, his gaze unfocused. He could hear her voice, but it felt distant, muffled, like she was speaking through water. His thoughts drifted to you—how you had always been the one to keep him grounded, to remind him there was something worth fighting for.

He thought of your smile, the way your eyes would light up when you laughed. He thought of the shirt you'd given him back in the QZ, how he hadn’t understood why someone like you would care for someone like him. He thought of the nights you spent together, wrapped in each other’s arms, and how your belly had grown your baby inside.

The thought of not having the chance of meeting his baby was pulling the string to life now.

"Joel, stay with me!" Ellie’s voice broke through the fog again, more urgent this time. She was crying now, her hands stained red as she tried to keep him alive. She had seen too much death, lost too many people, and she couldn’t lose him too. Not now.

Joel’s breath hitched as his body fought to stay conscious. He thought of you one last time, of the child growing inside you, the life he had left behind to protect Ellie. He had made a choice, but now, as the darkness threatened to pull him under, all he could think about was getting back to you.

His hand twitched, reaching for something—anything to hold on to—but all he felt was the cold, hard floor beneath him. His eyelids grew heavier, his body weaker, but somewhere deep inside, he clung to the hope that he would see you again. That he would make it back to you.

"Please," he whispered, though it was barely audible. He wasn’t sure if he was begging Ellie to save him or if it was a prayer to the universe to bring him back to you.

Ellie’s hands didn’t stop, her desperation fueling her as she fought to keep him alive. "I won’t let you die," she swore, her voice raw with emotion. "I won’t."

But as Joel’s world faded to black, the only thing on his mind was you, and the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch, everything that had kept him going. The thought of you was his last tether to the world, the only thing he could hold onto in the darkness.

And then, there was nothing.

you stirred awake to the soft light filtering through the window, your body still heavy with exhaustion and the weight of your sorrow. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of Joel’s shirt, the scent of him lingering in the fibers, a bittersweet reminder of his absence.

A gentle knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You sat up slowly, wiping the remnants of tears from your cheeks, the reality of the past few days crashing back over you like a wave. “Come in,” you called, your voice hoarse from crying.

The door creaked open, revealing Tommy standing in the doorway, a worried expression etched across his face. “Hey,” he said softly, stepping into the room. “I thought I’d check on you.”

You forced a small smile, but it felt fragile, like it might shatter at any moment. “I’m okay,” you lied, though the truth hung heavily in the air between you.

Tommy’s gaze fell to the shirt in your hands, his expression shifting to one of understanding. “You miss him,” he stated rather than asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, the tears welling up again, and you quickly blinked them away. “Of course I miss him. And I don’t know if he is okay.”

Tommy moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I wish I could tell you he is. But… we’ve been through a lot, and sometimes, we have to trust that they’ll come back to us.”

His words brought some comfort, but it was fleeting. “What if he doesn’t?” you whispered. “What if he and Ellie are hurt?”

You wanted to believe him, to cling to that hope, but the uncertainty gnawed at you. “I just want him back,” you admitted, the ache in your heart making your voice crack. “I want them both back, we were supposed to be a family.”

Tommy’s expression softened; the concern etched on his face deepening. “I know,” he replied, his voice steady. “You’re right. You three are a family, and it’s not fair for you to feel this way.”

The raw emotion in your words hung heavy in the air. You could feel the tears welling up again, threatening to spill over. “It just feels so empty without him.”

He nodded in understanding, his gaze unwavering. “Joel’s a fighter, and so are you. Just hold on to that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that hope can keep us going even when things seem dark.”

“But what if hope isn’t enough?” you asked, frustration creeping into your voice. “What if he’s out there, and I’m just stuck here waiting?”

Tommy sighed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re not just waiting. You’re doing something important right now by taking care of yourself and that baby. Joel would want you to stay safe and strong. You’re both his world.”

His words made you pause. You had been so consumed with worry that you hadn’t allowed yourself to consider what Joel would want for you, for the baby. You needed to honor his love by taking care of yourself, even if it felt impossible at the moment.

“I know you’re right,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “It’s just hard to think of anything else when all I want is to be with him.”

Tommy reached over, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, you have to keep yourself strong for my baby nephew or niece there” he said pointing at your belly, “And I heard that there is a delicious breakfast waiting for you at my house.”

A small smile broke through your sadness at Tommy's words. The thought of food, especially something delicious, made your stomach rumble. “Breakfast, huh?” you said, attempting to lighten the mood. “Is it worth the trek over there?”

Tommy chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. “You bet it is. Maria’s been in the kitchen since sunrise, whipping up all sorts of goodies. You can’t say no to her pancakes.”

The mention of Maria made your heart feel a little lighter. She always had a way of brightening your day, and the thought of spending time with her and Tommy brought a hint of normalcy back into your chaotic world. “Alright, I guess I can be tempted by pancakes,” you said, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Just give me a moment to get ready.”

As you stood up and moved towards the small mirror on the wall, Tommy turned to leave, but not before he added, “And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re all here for you, and Joel will come back. You have to believe that.”

You nodded, feeling the flicker of hope ignite once more within you. “I will, Tommy. Thank you.”

As the weeks passed, life in Jackson continued to move forward, albeit without Joel. You immersed yourself in the routine of the community, trying to find solace in the familiar faces and daily activities. However, your heart remained tethered to the memories of him, each thought a bittersweet reminder of what was lost.

Paul’s presence became more pronounced during this time. His visits were frequent, and he often lingered a bit longer than necessary, his laughter ringing through your home, filling the silence left by Joel. At first, you welcomed his company, finding comfort in his kindness, but gradually you began to notice the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his touch was a little too warm, a little too intentional.

You were oblivious to his growing intentions, too consumed by thoughts of Joel. Every time Paul made a gesture that hinted at something more—like the way he’d offer to carry things for you or the way his smile seemed to brighten when he caught your eye—you brushed it off as friendly camaraderie.

But in the quiet moments, especially as your pregnancy progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder what Joel would say or do. You often imagined him here, by your side, offering his protective presence and the warmth of his love.

One afternoon, while you were resting on the porch, Paul joined you, bringing along a small basket of fruit. “Thought you might like a snack,” he said, settling down beside you. “You’ve got to keep your strength up.”

“Thanks, Paul,” you replied, taking a piece of fruit and munching on it absentmindedly. Your mind drifted, imagining Joel’s voice teasing you about how much you were eating, and you couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought.

Paul watched you, his expression softening as he leaned a bit closer. “You know,” he started, hesitating for a moment as if weighing his words. “You’re pretty amazing. I admire how strong you are, going through all this without—”

“Without Joel?” you interjected gently, your heart clenching at the mention of his name. “I don’t really feel strong. I just… I’m doing what I have to do.”

Paul nodded, a hint of disappointment flickering across his face, but he quickly masked it with a smile. “Right. Just know I’m here for you, okay? Whatever you need.”

You offered him a grateful smile, but inside, the ache for Joel was relentless. You wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that Joel would come back, and that you could return to the life you had built together. But every passing day made the reality of that hope feel more distant.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow across the horizon, you felt the familiar pang of loneliness creeping back in. You were in Jackson, surrounded by people, yet the emptiness inside you was profound. No amount of comfort from Paul could fill the void that Joel had left behind.

February 15

It’s been weeks since Joel left, and I’m still struggling to accept it. I find myself waking up each morning, hoping that it was all just a nightmare, but the empty side of the bed reminds me of the truth. I miss him more than I can put into words.

Tommy and Maria have been amazing, and I’m grateful for their support. They try to keep me distracted, to make me feel like I’m not alone, but the truth is that every moment feels heavy without him here. Even the laughter we share feels tinged with sadness. I want to be strong, for my baby and for Joel, but some days, it feels like an impossible task.

And then there’s Paul. He’s kind and thoughtful, and I can see that he cares about me. I appreciate everything he does, but it feels wrong to let myself lean on him. My heart belongs to Joel, and nothing will change that. I’m still waiting for him to come back, to hold me again and make everything feel right.

I can’t shake the fear that I might never see him again. What if something happened? What if he’s in pain? My heart aches with every unanswered question. I wish I could tell him that I love him, that I’m thinking of him every second of the day.

But then, I think of the baby. The baby needs me to be strong. I need to focus on keeping myself healthy for them, even when it feels like my heart is breaking. I can’t forget about them in the midst of all this pain.

I keep reminding myself that I’m not alone. I have Tommy and Maria, and even Paul, though it feels complicated sometimes. I just wish I could feel whole again.

As I sit here writing, holding onto this shirt of Joel's, I hope that wherever he is, he knows how much I love him. I hope he’s safe and that he’s thinking of me too. I’ll keep writing until he returns. It’s the only way I know how to keep our story alive.”

It was one of those quiet evenings when the weight of Joel's absence seemed unbearable. You hadn’t seen much of Tommy or Maria that day, and Dr. Paul had stopped by as usual. This time, though, he lingered longer, suggesting he bring you dinner to keep you company. You hesitated, but the idea of eating alone in the house that felt more like a stranger’s shelter than a home wore on you. So, reluctantly, you agreed.

The two of you sat across from each other at the small table, plates of food in front of you, but you barely touched yours. Paul, on the other hand, seemed relaxed, making light conversation about the community, about his work. You nodded along, offering small smiles, but your mind wandered, as it always did, back to Joel.

After a while, Paul cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between bites. His eyes lingered on you, a softness there that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. "You know," he began, his voice gentle but carrying a certain weight, "you won’t be able to do this alone forever."

You furrowed your brows, not quite following. "What do you mean?"

Paul leaned forward slightly, his expression serious, yet warm. "Raising a baby... it’s not something you should have to handle on your own. You’ll need someone by your side. Someone who can help you, take care of you and the baby."

Your heart skipped a beat at the insinuation, and for a moment, the room felt too small. The air thickened as you stared at him, realization dawning slowly. He wasn’t just offering help out of kindness. There was something more to his visits, to his attentiveness, something you hadn’t seen until now.

You swallowed hard, a flash of anger mixing with the ache of missing Joel. You pushed your plate away, your appetite completely gone now. "Joel’s gonna get back," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "He’s coming back."

Paul blinked, taken aback by your response. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching yours as if trying to figure out how to respond. "I understand that you care for Joel," he said carefully, his tone measured, "but he left, didn’t he? He made a choice."

Your jaw tightened, defensive walls going up. "I don’t care about Joel. I love him. I’m in love with him. He’s doing what he has to. He’s coming back for us. I know it."

Paul’s gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes—concern, perhaps, or frustration. “I just don’t want you to set yourself up for heartbreak. You deserve to have someone who’s here for you now, not just someone you hope will come back.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “You don’t know what we have, Paul. You don’t understand the bond we built, the things we’ve been through together.”

His expression shifted slightly, a mix of empathy and something you couldn’t quite place. “And I respect that. But you also need to think about your future—about your baby. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he’s...”

“Stop,” you interrupted, the word bursting from you like a shield. “Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. I won’t allow myself to entertain that thought. Joel will come back for us and before the baby arrives.”

The room fell into a tense silence, the only sounds coming from the gentle crackling of the fire in the corner and the distant hum of life outside. You could feel the weight of the unspoken hanging between you, a chasm created by the gulf of your differing hopes.

Paul opened his mouth, clearly torn on how to respond. “Look, I’m not trying to come between you two. I just—”

“I know,” you interjected, your voice calmer now, but still firm. “You care. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, for the baby. But my heart belongs to Joel, and it always will. It’s not fair to me or to him to act like that connection doesn’t exist just because he’s not here right now.”

Paul sighed, leaning back in his chair with a resigned expression. “Okay. I hear you. But just know that I’m here for you, no matter what. Whether it’s just as a friend or... more. Just think about it, alright?”

You nodded, though your heart felt heavy. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he wanted to help. But every time you thought of Joel, a warmth spread through you that no one else could replicate.

“Thanks, Paul,” you said quietly, forcing a small smile. “But I think you should go.”

Paul's face fell at your words, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. The warmth that had been there moments before faded, replaced by a guarded expression. “I understand,” he replied softly, his voice steady despite the obvious hurt. “I just wanted to help you, to be there for you in any way I could.”

You felt a pang of guilt for turning him away, but you had to be firm. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, Paul. Really. But from now on, I think it’s best if we keep things more... professional. I need to focus on me and the baby right now. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

He nodded slowly, processing your words. “Of course. I can respect that,” he said, though the disappointment lingered in his eyes. “I’ll check on the baby and make sure you’re both doing okay, but I won’t push for anything more.”

“Thank you,” you said, relieved that he seemed to understand. “That’s all I need for now. Just someone who can help with check-ups and advice. No more dinners or flowers or anything like that. I need to keep my mind clear.”

Paul inhaled deeply, nodding again. “I get it. I really do. Just know that if you ever change your mind or need anything, I’m here.”

As he stood up to leave, the atmosphere in the room shifted, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the air. You felt a mix of sadness and relief wash over you, knowing that you had made the right choice for your heart, but also recognizing the friendship that was slipping away.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice softening again as he moved toward the door. “And take care of that little one. I’ll be around to check on you both.”

“Thanks, Paul,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart felt heavy. As he stepped outside, the door closing gently behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You stared at the empty chair where he had just sat, the silence of the room settling around you. The reality of your situation loomed large; you were alone in a world where you were still waiting for Joel, still holding onto hope. The ache of missing him was as familiar as the beating of your heart, a constant reminder that some connections could never truly be replaced.

As you turned your gaze back to the window, you let your thoughts drift once more to Joel, the warmth of his memory wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You closed your eyes and whispered his name, hoping with all your heart that he was safe, that he was thinking of you too, and that one day soon, he would return to fill the void in your life.

You were about to give birth and Joel would be here by then.

The day had finally arrived, but as you lay in the infirmary, the pain of contractions rippled through you, sharper than you could have imagined. Each wave of discomfort was accompanied by a fresh wave of disappointment and anger, emotions that seemed to swirl together in a chaotic dance within you.

You gripped the edge of the bed, trying to focus on your breathing, but it felt impossible to push away the nagging thought that Joel should have been there. This was a moment that deserved his presence, his strength. You had envisioned him by your side, his reassuring voice guiding you through the pain, just as he had done so many times before. But instead, you were alone, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and the sterile smell of antiseptic.

“Just breathe, you’re doing great,” Paul said, trying to offer comfort as he checked your progress. His voice was calm and steady, but it did little to soothe the tumult inside you. You could sense his concern, but all you could think about was Joel, his absence a heavy weight on your chest.

“Where is he?” you gasped, the question slipping from your lips, filled with a mix of desperation and fury. “He should be here! He promised... he would be back.” The words came out more like a plea, the frustration boiling beneath the surface as you fought against the pain.

Paul exchanged a worried glance with the Tommy and Marie before looking back at you. “I know you’re scared. But you need to focus on the baby right now. You can do this.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to focus on the here and now, but every wave of pain brought Joel’s face to your mind, and with it, a sharp pang of grief. Tommy’s hand was on yours, a steady, reassuring presence. “You’re doing great,” he murmured, though his voice sounded distant, almost muffled. “Just a little longer.”

You barely heard him, your thoughts swirling. The pressure built, and a cry escaped your lips as another contraction tore through you. Maria was on your other side, her face tight with worry. "Just breathe," she urged. "You're almost there."

You squeezed Tommy's hand harder, your nails digging into his skin, but he didn’t flinch. Finally, there was a moment of stillness, a pause in the storm of pain. You felt the baby slide free, and then there was a new sound, thin and high-pitched, cutting through the air, the cry of a newborn.

But instead of relief, a hollow feeling settled in your chest. Your breath hitched, and your eyes remained tightly shut, refusing to open, refusing to acknowledge what had just happened.

Maria moved quickly, wrapping the baby in a soft blanket, her eyes filled with tears as she turned to you. "It’s a girl," she whispered, her voice soft, almost reverent. "A beautiful, healthy girl."

You didn’t look. You couldn’t. “No,” you muttered, shaking your head weakly. “I… I don’t want to see her.”

Maria hesitated, a look of confusion flashing across her face. “But… she’s your baby,” she urged gently. "She's right here. She's perfect."

Tommy glanced at Maria, then back at you, a look of worry crossing his face. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper, “what’s going on? You’ve been waiting for this, for her. She’s your daughter.”

You felt a sob catch in your throat, the words clawing to get out. "I can’t… I can’t do this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not without him. I can't..."

The room fell into a heavy silence, Maria and Tommy exchanging a look filled with unspoken concern. Tommy’s face softened, his grip on your hand tightening. “He’ll come back,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Joel will come back. You know he would never leave you like this… not for good.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "He left," you murmured, your voice trembling. "He left, and I don't know if he’s ever coming back. I don’t know how to do this without him. I don’t want to… I can’t look at her."

Maria’s expression softened, and she gently handed the baby to a nearby nurse, who took the little girl away for a moment. "It’s okay,” Maria whispered, sitting closer to you. "It's okay to be scared. It's okay to feel lost."

Your chest tightened, a sob breaking free from your lips. “I just… I needed him to be here,” you confessed, your voice small and broken. “I needed him, and he’s gone.”

Tommy rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, his eyes filled with empathy. "I know," he said quietly. "I know it hurts. But you’re not alone, okay? We’re here, Maria and I… all of Jackson is here for you. And Joel… I believe he’ll come back. You have to believe that too."

You closed your eyes again, feeling the exhaustion settling over you like a heavy blanket. "I don’t know how to feel," you whispered, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

Tommy sighed, nodding slowly. “Take your time,” he murmured. “We’re not going anywhere. And when you’re ready… your little girl will be here, waiting for you.”

Maria reached out, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered softly. “And she needs her mom. But we’ll take care of her for now. We’ll make sure she’s safe. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You nodded, barely, a sense of numbness spreading through you. Somewhere, deep inside, you wanted to believe that Joel would walk through that door any second now, that he’d see his daughter, hold her, and everything would be okay.

But until then, all you could do was wait.

A few hours later, the room had quieted down, the dim light from a nearby lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. You felt a heavy exhaustion weighing down on you, a bone-deep tiredness that seemed to seep into every part of your being. The adrenaline from the birth had faded, leaving you with a hollow ache that was more emotional than physical.

The door creaked open, and you heard the footsteps before you saw him.

Paul stepped inside, a gentle smile on his face. “Hey there,” he said softly, his voice low to avoid startling you. “How are you holding up?”

You nodded slightly, trying to muster a smile despite the emotional weight in your heart. “I’m okay. Just... tired.”

He moved closer, clearing his throat, looking down at you with a polite but firm expression. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low in the quiet room. “I know it’s been a lot, and you’re tired… but your baby girl needs to be fed.”

You turned your head away, staring at the wall, trying to ignore the tightening in your chest. You weren’t ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He took a step closer, his voice growing softer, almost coaxing. “She’s hungry. And the sooner you start, the better it’ll be for both of you. I know this is hard, but…” He hesitated, a slight frown creasing his brow. “She needs her mom.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a spark of irritation at his words. "I can’t," you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. “Not now.”

He sighed, moving to the edge of the bed, his eyes searching your face for something, understanding, maybe. “Look, I get it,” he began, his tone more insistent. “But you can’t just leave her to starve. You’re all she has right now. You’re her whole world.”

You shot him a sharp glance, your frustration bubbling up. "I said no," you replied, your voice firmer this time. “Get someone else to feed her.”

Paul’s expression tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "There isn't anyone else,” he pressed. “We don’t have a lot of resources here, and formula is limited. You have to do this, or she’ll suffer.”

The weight of his words hit you, but so did his tone. The way he seemed to be blaming you, as if it was your fault that you were too broken, too overwhelmed to even look at your own child.

Maria, who had been hovering nearby, stepped forward, placing a calming hand on the doctor’s arm. “Paul, give her a minute, okay?” she said softly but firmly. “She’s just been through a lot. Let’s give her some space.”

He nodded, reluctantly stepping back. "I’m just saying,” he muttered, his gaze flicking back to you. "She’s going to need her mother sooner rather than later."

He turned and left the room, his footsteps fading down the hallway. Maria watched him go, then turned back to you, her eyes filled with empathy. She reached out, gently squeezing your hand. “I know he can be a bit… pushy,” she said quietly, “but he’s right about one thing. She does need you.”

You swallowed hard, tears stinging your eyes again. “I just… I can’t face her, Maria,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “Not when I feel like this. Not without Joel.”

Maria nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I get it,” she whispered. “But you’re stronger than you think. And that little girl… she’s a part of you. And Joel, too.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you felt the weight of them settle in your heart. You were afraid — of loving this child, of losing her, of losing another part of yourself if Joel never came back. But there was also a flicker of something else, something deep and primal — the instinct to protect, to care, to nurture.

“I’ll bring her in,” Maria offered gently, “just for a moment. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Just… see her. That’s all.”

You hesitated, then slowly nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. Maria gave you a small smile, squeezing your hand again before leaving the room.

A few moments later, she returned with a tiny bundle in her arms. Your baby. So small, so fragile. The baby’s eyes were closed, her tiny mouth opening and closing in search of comfort.

Maria carefully placed her in your arms, and for the first time, you looked down at your daughter. Her face was so small, her skin so soft, and suddenly, without warning, a sob broke free from your chest. The sight of her, the feel of her warmth against you, tore through all the walls you’d built.

She was a piece of you. And a piece of Joel. And despite everything, despite the pain, the fear, the uncertainty, she was here, and she was yours.

You took a shaky breath, feeling the tears flow freely down your cheeks. “Hey, little one,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

The baby stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for the briefest moment, and in that instant, you felt a small spark of something in your chest, a tiny flicker of love, a tiny piece of you.

"Hi, baby Rosie," you whispered softly, naming her after the flowers you’d always loved, the ones that somehow still managed to grow even in the worst conditions. The name felt right, like a promise of something beautiful amidst all the harshness. Rosie shifted slightly, her tiny fingers curling against your chest, and a small, tender smile broke through your tears.

Maria’s smile widened, a warm, proud light in her eyes. "That’s a beautiful name," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Rosie… it suits her."

Just then, Tommy stepped into the room, his footsteps soft but purposeful. His gaze fell on you, cradling Rosie in your arms, and his face softened into a gentle, almost surprised smile. "Well, look at that," he said quietly, moving closer, his eyes never leaving the small bundle in your arms. "That’s my niece."

He came to your side, glancing at Maria for a moment, then back to you. There was something in his expression — a mix of relief, pride, and a kind of cautious joy. He looked down at Rosie, and you could see his eyes glisten just a little. "She’s beautiful," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

You nodded, your own emotions swirling, a strange mix of overwhelming love and the lingering ache of uncertainty. “She is,” you agreed softly, glancing down at your daughter. “She’s so… tiny.”

Tommy chuckled, his smile growing wider. “Yeah, they start that way,” he teased gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before his hand lightly brushed Rosie’s head. “Hey there, Rosie,” he murmured. “You’re gonna be just fine. Got your mama right here… and your uncle Tommy, too.”

Maria moved closer, wrapping an arm around Tommy’s waist. “We’re all here,” she added, her voice soft but firm. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it. You’ve got us.”

You felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, grateful for their presence, their support, and their love. It didn’t erase the pain or the uncertainty, but it made it a little easier to bear. Holding Rosie closer, you allowed yourself to breathe, to feel the warmth of this moment, to hope — even just a little — that things might be okay.

Rosie let out a tiny yawn, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a small smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you," you whispered, glancing up at Tommy and Maria. "For being here… for everything."

Tommy gave a slight nod, his expression tender. "We're family," he replied simply. "That’s what we do."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. Rosie began to fuss in your arms, her tiny mouth opening and closing, searching. You glanced at Maria, who gave you an encouraging nod. "It’s okay," she whispered. "She’s hungry."

You adjusted your position on the bed, feeling a mix of nervousness and instinct kicking in. As you began to unbutton your shirt to feed Rosie, you noticed Tommy standing awkwardly nearby, his eyes wide as he realized what was about to happen.

His face turned a shade redder, and he quickly looked away, trying to give you privacy. “Uh… yeah, I’ll just… I’ll, uh… step out,” he stammered, taking a step back toward the door. He paused for a moment, then added with a slight grin, “And don’t worry, I’ll never tell Joel I saw this.”

Maria burst out laughing at his awkwardness, shaking her head. “Oh, come on, Tommy. It’s just feeding a baby. You’ve seen worse.”

Tommy’s smile widened, though he kept his gaze firmly on the floor. "Yeah, but Joel’s my brother, and I don’t think he’d appreciate me having a front-row seat to… this," he muttered, his voice light with humor but his discomfort still clear.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a bit of tension easing from your shoulders. “Thanks, Tommy,” you said, grateful for the attempt at levity in such a raw moment. “And yeah, maybe keep this one to yourself.”

Tommy gave you a playful salute. “You got it,” he said before slipping out of the room, leaving you with Maria and Rosie.

Maria moved closer, her smile warm and understanding. “You’re doing great,” she murmured. “And don’t mind Tommy. He’s just being… well, Tommy.”

You nodded, feeling a little more at ease. Rosie’s small movements brought your attention back to her, and you focused on the task at hand. You guided her to latch, feeling a mix of discomfort and wonder as she began to feed. For a moment, all the noise in your mind quieted, and there was just the steady rhythm of her tiny breaths, the rise and fall of your chest, and the warmth of her against you.

Maria watched with a soft smile, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding. "See?" she whispered. "You’ve got this."

You nodded slowly, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. Maybe, just maybe, you did.

A month had passed since Rosie was born, and the world outside felt heavier than ever. Each day, you rose with the sun, cradling your baby and navigating the delicate balance of motherhood in a world that seemed intent on breaking you. But the absence of Joel loomed larger than any other burden. His absence echoed through the quiet of your days, a painful reminder of the love you’d lost amid the chaos.

As you paced the small living space, the walls felt like they were closing in on you. The gentle cooing of Rosie contrasted sharply with the storm brewing in your heart. Every time you glanced at her, you felt a pang of anger bubble up — anger at the universe for taking him from you, anger at yourself for being so vulnerable, and anger at the endless cycle of survival that left little room for hope.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, Rosie cradled against your chest, her tiny fingers clutching your shirt. She was so innocent, so unaware of the weight that pressed down on you. You fought back tears as you watched her, the small signs of growth reminding you of everything you wished could be different. It felt unfair that she had to grow up in this world without her father, without the love and protection he could provide.

A knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. You looked over, half-expecting to see Joel standing there, but when you opened the door, it was Tommy. His face bore the lines of concern, but you couldn't muster the energy to reciprocate his warmth.

"Hey," he greeted softly, stepping inside and glancing at Rosie, who had fallen asleep against you. “She’s getting so big.”

You forced a smile, but it felt like a mask over the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Yeah," you said, your voice lacking its usual warmth. "She is."

Tommy shifted slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s been tough… I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.”

You couldn’t hold back the anger any longer. “What I’m feeling? I’m feeling like a single mother in a godforsaken world with no sign of the man I love! He should be here with us, Tommy!” Your voice raised, the emotion pouring out like a floodgate unleashed.

“I know, and I’m so sorry,” he replied, his tone gentle but firm. “But we’re doing everything we can to find him. You have to believe that.”

You shook your head, stepping away from the door, feeling the walls close in even more. “What’s the point? What if he doesn’t come back? What if he never gets to meet Rosie? I can’t keep living in this limbo, waiting for something that might never happen.”

Tommy’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer. “You’re not alone, you know? Maria and I are here for you. We want to help however we can.”

You huffed, crossing your arms defensively. “Help? You can’t bring him back. No one can.” You paused. “Maria is carrying your child, Tommy. You must worry about her.”

“I do. And I also care for my niece and my sister-in-law” he answered.

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, but your frustration bubbled just below the surface. “That doesn’t change the fact that Joel should be here. He’s missing, and I can’t just sit back and pretend everything’s fine while you and Maria are about to become parents. It feels… unfair.”

Tommy’s expression grew serious. “I know it’s not easy, but you can’t push us away. We want to be here for you and Rosie. And just because Maria and I are starting a family doesn’t mean we care any less about you. We’re all in this together.”

You turned away, staring at the wall, feeling the weight of his words. Part of you wanted to reject his offer of support, to wallow in your pain and anger, but another part craved the connection and the reassurance that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as alone as you felt.

“Why can’t you just understand how hard this is for me?” you said, your voice trembling. “Every time I look at Rosie, I see everything I’ve lost. I can’t bear the thought of loving her and then losing her too.”

Tommy stepped closer, his voice lowering to a gentle tone. “You’re not going to lose her. And you’re not losing Joel either. He’s out there, and we’ll do everything we can to bring him back. But you have to let us help you through this. It’s okay to be scared, to feel overwhelmed. You don’t have to go through it all alone.”

You met his gaze, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was unwavering support. Taking a deep breath, you let the anger fade just a little, allowing the vulnerability to seep in.

“Okay,” you said quietly, finally letting the walls you’d built start to crumble. “Maybe I don’t know how to be strong all the time. Maybe I do need help.”

Tommy’s face broke into a warm smile, relief washing over him. “Good. Let’s take it one day at a time. I’ll help however I can. We can figure out feeding routines, and I can take care of some chores around here. Just… don’t shut us out.”

You nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the past month’s isolation slowly lifting. It wasn’t that you didn’t want help; it was that the fear of losing Joel had wrapped around you like a shroud, making it hard to see a way forward. But with Tommy’s support, a small crack of light broke through.

“Let’s start with something simple,” he suggested, his voice lightening a bit. “How about I take Rosie for a bit while you get some rest? You look like you could use it.”

You hesitated, glancing at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Are you sure? I don’t want to overwhelm you with her.”

Tommy chuckled softly, a hint of warmth in his voice. “I promise, I can handle a baby. Besides, I want to get to know my niece. Just give me a moment.”

You reluctantly handed Rosie over, your heart fluttering with both anxiety and relief. Watching as Tommy cradled her, a gentle smile on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in knowing she was with family.

“See? She’s in good hands,” he assured you, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “I’ll take good care of her. You just take some time for yourself.”

You nodded, feeling a little more at ease. “Okay. Just for a little while.”

As Tommy settled into the rocking chair with Rosie, you stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind you. The moment you were alone, you felt the remnants of tension seep from your body, leaving you a bit lighter.

You made your way to the small bathroom, splashing cool water on your face and letting the sensation ground you. Your reflection in the mirror was a reminder of the past weeks — the sleepless nights, the tears, the fear. But beneath it all, you also saw a flicker of resilience.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped back into the living area, where the sounds of Tommy cooing at Rosie filled the space. It was a simple moment, but it felt monumental. You could see how much Tommy genuinely cared, and the thought made your heart swell.

As you joined them, settling onto the couch across from him, you watched the two of them. “What are you talking about?” you asked, a playful curiosity tugging at your lips.

Tommy looked up with a grin. “Just telling her all the stories about her uncle. I was quite the troublemaker, you know.”

“Oh really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine that.”

He laughed; the sound infectious. “You should have seen me. I could charm anyone out of trouble… except for Joel. He always saw right through me.”

You felt a small smile break through as you listened to him reminisce. It was a distraction you desperately needed, a chance to be reminded of the good things in life even amidst the chaos.

As the minutes passed, you began to feel a shift within yourself — a softening of the hard edges that grief had carved into your heart. Maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they once seemed. Maybe, with time and support, you could learn to navigate this new chapter alongside Rosie, surrounded by family who cared.

And as you watched Tommy bounce Rosie gently, you allowed yourself to entertain a sliver of hope. Perhaps Joel would find his way back to you, and until then, you had a new purpose to embrace, even in the absence of the one you loved.

A few days later, the air in the infirmary was thick with the familiar scent of antiseptic and the quiet hum of muted conversations. You sat on a worn-out chair, cradling Rosie in your arms as you watched Paul examine her. The little one was wrapped snugly in a soft blanket, her tiny features serene as she slept.

Paul, focused on his task, checked Rosie’s vitals, his brow furrowed in concentration. You could see the care in his movements, the way he gently examined her delicate limbs and listened to her heartbeat. After a moment, he straightened up, turning his attention to you.

“She’s doing well,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “Gaining weight, which is a good sign. Just keep an eye on her feeding schedule.”

You nodded, feeling a swell of pride. “I’ve been trying my best.”

Paul offered a small smile before his expression shifted, becoming more serious. “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Okay,” you replied, bracing yourself for what might come next.

Paul’s gaze dropped, and he took a deep breath before speaking again. “See, I told you he wasn’t going to come back.”

The words struck you like a blow, igniting a spark of anger deep within. “What do you mean?” you snapped, your voice rising. “You’re just going to give up on him like that?”

“I'm not giving up,” Paul said quickly, his tone defensive. “I’m trying to prepare you for the reality of this situation.”

“Reality?” you echoed, disbelief flooding your voice. “You think I don’t know what reality is? You think I want to believe he’s gone? I can’t just accept that!”

He held up his hands, trying to calm the storm brewing inside you. “I understand. But holding onto hope for too long can be dangerous. It can lead to more pain.”

“More pain?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “You think I haven’t felt pain? You think it doesn’t hurt to think about him every single day, wondering if he’s, okay? Wondering if he’s thinking of us?”

Paul’s expression softened, but the seriousness remained. “I just don’t want you to be hurt even more when the reality sinks in.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, frustration and sorrow bubbling beneath the surface. “You don’t get to dictate how I feel, Paul! You can’t just stand there and tell me to give up on someone I love. Joel is out there. I know he is. He wouldn’t leave us. He wouldn’t abandon me and Rosie.”

“I wish I could believe that as much as you do,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But you need to face the possibility that he’s not coming back. It’s not about giving up; it’s about being realistic.”

“Realistic?” you shot back, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “You think being realistic means I should stop hoping? That I should stop fighting for him? You’re wrong. If there’s even the slightest chance that he’s out there, I’m not going to let it go. Not now, not ever.”

Paul stepped closer; concern etched on his face. “You can’t do this alone. You need support, and right now, your focus should be on Rosie. She needs you.”

The mention of Rosie made the anger in your chest swirl into something more painful—guilt. “I know she needs me,” you said, your voice dropping. “But how can I be there for her when a part of me feels like it’s dying inside? How can I pretend everything is okay when I’m terrified of what the future holds without him?”

Paul’s expression softened further, and for a moment, you could see the struggle in his eyes. “I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m just trying to help you navigate this. You’re not alone in this fight, and we’re all here for you, ready to support you.”

Taking a deep breath, you felt the walls you had built around your heart beginning to crack. “I don’t want to lose him, Paul. I can’t. Not now, when I finally have a family of my own.”

“Then let us help you,” he urged, his voice earnest. “Let us be your family. We’ll do this together, one day at a time.”

You met his gaze, searching for a glimmer of hope, and found only sincerity. “I don’t know how,” you admitted, feeling the weight of your despair.

“Just start by being present,” he said gently. “For Rosie. For yourself. We’ll figure out the rest as we go. You’re stronger than you think, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

You shook your head, “No. I will never going to feel love for you, Paul”

Paul’s expression shifted, a mix of surprise and hurt flashing across his face. “I wasn’t asking you to love me,” he said, his voice steady but laced with disappointment. “I’m just trying to be here for you, to help you through this.”

“Help? You mean take Joel’s place?” you shot back, frustration bubbling over. “I can’t just forget about him, Paul. I won’t. I loved him, and I still do.”

“I get that,” he replied, his tone softening. “But you need to start living for yourself and Rosie. Holding onto Joel’s memory is one thing, but shutting everyone else out is another. You’re pushing away the people who care about you.”

You carefully shifted Rosie in your arms, holding her close as you locked eyes with Paul. “It’s her and me and Tommy and Maria; they are my family,” you said firmly, the protective instinct for your little girl rising within you. “You will never be part of that.”

Paul’s face fell, the weight of your words settling heavily in the air. “I understand that you feel this way, but it doesn’t mean you have to shut everyone out,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“I’m sorry for being honest about it,” you continued, feeling a mixture of regret and resolve. “But having a daughter and being alone doesn’t make me a damsel in distress. I’m doing the best I can, and I won’t pretend to want something I don’t.”

His brows furrowed, and he took a step back as if your words had physically struck him. “I never thought of you as a damsel in distress. I see your strength, but it’s hard to see you pushing away those who want to help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I appreciate that you care, Paul, but I don’t want help that comes with strings attached,” you insisted. “You may want to be there for me, but I’m not ready for that. My focus is Rosie, and I need to figure this out on my own.”

“I just want to be a part of your life, to support you both,” he replied, his voice softening. “I know it’s not easy, but I can be there for you without trying to replace Joel. I can respect that.”

You felt your heart ache “I said no.”

You felt your heart ache as the weight of his words hung in the air. “I said no,” you reiterated firmly, standing up from the chair, cradling Rosie closer to your chest. “I can’t do this right now, Paul. I need space.”

Paul opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, but then he hesitated, the look in his eyes shifting from concern to resignation. “I get it,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just want what’s best for you and Rosie.”

You turned away, the tears threatening to spill over as you fought to keep your composure. “What’s best for me is to be left alone to figure this out. I have to focus on my daughter.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and tense. You could feel Paul’s gaze on you, a mix of hurt and confusion in his expression, but you steeled yourself against it. You couldn’t let the guilt of his disappointment sway your decision.

“I’ll come back for the check-up,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “But I need time to breathe, Paul. Please respect that.”

As you moved toward the door, you felt a pang of regret and relief. You opened the door, taking one last look at him. His expression was concerned and sad, but you knew this was what you needed.

As you stepped back into your small, cozy home, the door closing softly behind you, the weight of the world seemed to lift, even if just for a moment. You looked down at Rosie, her tiny eyes fluttering as she began to settle in your arms. Her soft breath was a reminder that despite everything, there was love and hope right here in your arms.

“Shh, Rosie. We’re home now,” you whispered gently, brushing your lips against her forehead. “It’s just you and me, baby girl. We’re gonna be okay.”

Her little hand gripped your shirt, and the corners of your mouth tugged into a small smile. The bond you felt with her was something no one could break. As you moved toward the rocking chair by the window, the soft glow of the setting sun bathed the room in a warm light. You gently lowered yourself into the chair, cradling Rosie close, rocking her slowly.

"You're so beautiful, Rosie," you murmured, watching her tiny face relax into sleep. "Your daddy would love you so much. He'll love you so much when he gets back. He’s coming back, sweetheart. I know he is."

The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that usually made your heart ache with Joel's absence. But tonight, with Rosie in your arms, that silence felt different—more peaceful, fuller. You hummed softly, rocking back and forth as Rosie’s breathing became steadier.

A melody drifted from your lips, a lullaby that Joel had once hummed to you on restless nights:

"Hush now, my darling, close your eyes,

The world is waiting, but not tonight."

Your voice trembled at the end, a lump forming in your throat as you pictured Joel. You imagined him here, sitting beside you, watching Rosie with that rare, soft smile he reserved for moments when his guard was down. He would hold her, kiss her tiny forehead, and tell you everything was going to be alright.

But as you sang, the warmth of Rosie’s little body against yours made you feel stronger than you thought you could be. She was the piece of Joel you held onto, the reminder of the life you were fighting to build, even if he wasn’t here now. You kissed her head, breathing in her soft baby scent, as you whispered the last words of the song:

"Sleep now, my love, you're safe in my arms,

One day you'll see all the world’s gleams.

But for today's, it's just you and me,

And we’ll wait for him, just wait and see."

Tears pricked your eyes, but this time, there was a sense of peace. You had your daughter, and she had you. For now, that was enough.

You rocked Rosie gently, her tiny body sinking deeper into sleep with each passing minute. Her soft breathing was steady, and her hand had finally relaxed its grip on your shirt. Carefully, you rose from the rocking chair, cradling her to your chest as you walked across the room to her crib.

“There you are, baby girl,” you whispered as you placed her down, tucking a blanket around her small form. Her chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm, her little face serene in the dim light of the room. For a moment, everything felt calm, as though the world outside didn't exist.

Just as you turned, a quiet knock came from the open door. You spun around to see Tommy standing there, a small smile on his face.

"Hey," he whispered, but the sound was still too loud in the quiet room.

You held a finger to your lips, motioning toward the crib. "Shh, Rosie just fell asleep," you murmured, stepping toward him.

Tommy nodded, lowering his voice further. “Sorry ‘bout that. I was just checkin’ in…”

Before you could respond, you noticed someone, standing behind Tommy, half-hidden by the doorframe. You blinked, your breath catching in your throat, your heart pounding in your ears.

It was Joel.

Your mind struggled to process the sight of him, standing there, looking worn and weary but alive. The moment stretched out as if time had slowed. His eyes, filled with an intensity you hadn’t seen in months, locked onto yours. It was as though the entire world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Ellie was there too, just behind him. Her gaze seemed lost and weary.

Joel took a step forward, his eyes never leaving yours, but before he could come closer, you found yourself speaking, your voice sharp and surprising even to yourself.

“No.”

He stopped, his expression shifting from relief to confusion. Ellie, standing behind him, looked just as surprised, her eyes wide, and the exhaustion in her posture deepened. The room felt tense, charged with emotions you weren’t ready to face.

“No?” Joel repeated softly, his brows furrowing, unsure of how to respond.

You shook your head, taking a shaky breath. “You left,” you whispered, feeling the weight of months of fear, anger, and hurt bubbling to the surface.

Joel took another cautious step forward, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any sign of rejection. When he saw none, he closed the distance between you in an instant, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame. The familiar warmth of his embrace washed over you, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.

You buried your face in his chest, the weight of everything finally crashing down. His heartbeat was strong and steady, grounding you in a way you had been desperately missing. Joel’s arms tightened around you as if he were afraid to let go, his grip protective, comforting. He pressed his face against the top of your head, exhaling a shaky breath.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered against his chest, your voice breaking. The tears came then, spilling over as months of fear, anger, and loneliness poured out of you all at once. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with guilt. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

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[moonstruckme]

I’ve been binge reading your emt polymarauders. And I gotta tell you ! It’s like sipping a nice lemonade on a summer day. Oh my…

I’m a medical student so I loooooove this prompt so much. I couldn’t sleep tonight because biochemistry has been rotting my brain. Ugh

Anyways,

I had an idea, could you maybe make a reader who’s in her first year of med school and she’s so stressed. The boys try to ease her a little but she doesn’t listen and itch closer to burnout. Until she starts to feel unwell and comes out of her study to drink water. But before she can react she passes out and the boys rush to help.

(Totally not happened to me once in front of almost 30 3rd years. Nooooo.)

Hope you like the idea ❤️

Thanks babe, I'm glad you enjoy them! And thank you for requesting <3

cw: academic stress, fainting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“What nerve supplies the posterior arm and forearm?” Remus asks you. 

The words are beginning to sound like gibberish. “The, um…the radial nerve.” 

“Well done.” Remus sets your flash card atop a stack. There are three of them, ones you know well, ones you’re still shaky on, and ones you’ve not got a clue about. This card goes in the first stack. It’s small enough that every addition feels like a victory. 

Your boyfriends have been kind enough to bring you lunch at the library. It was quickly revealed as a plot to try and coax you into taking a break, but when that clearly wasn’t working they decided to stay awhile and keep you company. You have a reading room all to yourself today, so James has made himself comfortable on the couch and Sirius has laid his head down in his lap, content to have his hair played with while James watches you and Remus study.

“And which carpals communicate with the radius?” Remus asks. 

“Um…”

“Think carefully,” Sirius says in his TV host voice. “This one’s for full points.” 

You blink. You feel suddenly odd. Off-kilter. “There’s two,” you say slowly. “Lunate and…um…” 

“Can we do hints?” James asks. 

You’d rather not, but you feel like you need it. “Sure.” 

“Alright.” Remus glances down at your card. “It starts with an s.” 

“I know it.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I had this one yesterday. It’s like sca…sca something. Sorry, I feel like I can’t concentrate.” 

“Do you want me to tell you?” Remus asks gently. 

You sigh. “Yeah, okay.” 

“It’s lunate and scaphoid.” 

You groan, pushing your fingers into your forehead. “I knew that.” 

“It’s alright.” Remus sets the card in the middle stack. He’s watching you carefully. “Do you think it’s time for a break?” 

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath. “I feel weird, I think…” You pick up your water bottle, but it’s light, empty. “I’m going to go get some water.” 

Remus’ eyes are sympathetic. “Good idea, dove.” 

The feeling worsens when you stand, like the change in altitude is making you light-headed. You take two steps. The first wobbles, the second sinks. 

You don’t remember passing out. There’s no darkening of your vision or panicky realization, just one second your knee is bending unbidden and the next the trampled fibers of the library carpet are smushed against your face. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” It takes you a second to recognize the feel of hands under your head and ribcage, but that’s James’ voice. The knees of Remus’ trousers are in front of your face. “What’d you do that for?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you mumble. 

“Let’s get you on your back,” says Remus. 

He and James work together to rotate you gently, and then you have a better view of the room. Remus and James kneeling above you, Sirius standing behind them with a look of wide-eyed horror. It appears each of your boyfriends has jumped up in a fright. 

“Do you feel warm?” Remus brushes some hair away from your face while James picks up your wrist to get your pulse and Sirius launches into action, kneeling by your feet. 

“Not really…” You startle as your legs pick up off the floor. “Sirius, my skirt!”

“It’s just us here, doll,” Sirius reminds you. “I promise to protect your modesty if anyone comes in, whatever the cost.” 

You frown at what he could mean by that, but Remus thumbs over your cheek placatingly. “Is there anywhere around here that might have sports drinks?” 

“Um, there’s a vending machine downstairs.” 

“Perfect. I’ll be back shortly.” He gives your cheek a quick hold before leaving. 

James kisses your palm once he’s done with your pulse, and then his fingers find the collar of your shirt, popping open the first two buttons with practiced ease. 

Your hand flies up to prevent him going further. “Why does everyone keep trying to undress me?” 

James laughs, and Sirius replies smoothly, “Why, is this not a good time for you?” 

“Take it easy, lovie.” James takes your hand, holding it in his own. “We’re just making sure all the blood that wants to go to your brain can get there.” 

“Oh.” You knew that. Or you should’ve, if your brain was working properly.

“If it’s somewhat risque in practice, I certainly don’t mind as much with you as I do with the old blokes we sometimes get.” Sirius winks at you. 

You offer up a weak smile in return, and he pouts. 

“How’re you feeling, sweetness?” 

“I’m alright.” You take a breath. “Can I sit up now?”

“Let’s give it a bit.” James rubs your shoulder. “How do you really feel?” 

“Just…weird. Shaky. But not too bad.” 

“That’s good,” he says, though he looks like he doesn’t quite believe you. 

“I think I’ll be fine once I get something to drink.” 

“Mm, I think there’s probably a bit more to it than that,” Remus says as he comes back in. He crouches beside you, twisting the top off a bottle of orange juice. “That is a very well-stocked vending machine. Do you feel ready to sit up, dove?” 

“I have been,” you say. “They won’t let me.” 

“Such ingratitude,” Sirius teases as he sets your feet back down. “We were only waiting for your juice.” 

James helps you up with a hand on your back, and it takes a second of wordless wrestling with Remus to get him to let you bring the bottle to your own lips. 

“You could be dehydrated,” he says as you drink, “or you could just be exhausted, or both. And you can faint from too much stress too, you know.” 

“I know,” you grumble, wiping your mouth. 

Remus takes your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. You find your indignance shrinking under his steady gaze. “You hurt yourself when you push yourself this hard, sweet girl.” 

“I know,” you say, softer now. “I thought I could handle it.” 

“You need to take more breaks.” 

You nod slightly. 

“And work on putting less pressure on yourself.” 

“Alright, Rem, lay off her.” Sirius rubs your knee. It breaks you from Remus’ trance, and your dark-haired boyfriend flashes you a smile when you look his way. “She’s got enough going through her head without having to remember all you want her to do. Let’s go home, yeah?” 

James insists on supporting you while you walk out of the library. Sirius and Remus debate what film you should put on once you get back to your flat. 

“Shouldn’t I get to choose?” you ask. 

“Well, look who’s feeling up to asking questions.” Sirius gives your cheek a condescending little pat. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re really ready to be picking out films, my love. Your decision making is probably still impacted from that fainting spell.” 

“Really.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I’ve never heard of that side effect.” 

“Well, you’re only a first year, doll. There’s lots you don’t know.”

[sqtorux]

where our blue is

3 years of gojo's blue spring with his best friends and ... you. basically hidden inventory arc with you in it.

it's 2005 and satoru had met you for the first time. you'd heard of him, the strongest. you weren't particularly excited to meet him however that was all for naught when another classmate came along. suguru.

you quickly got close to suguru and he got along with satoru meaning you also got to hang out with satoru. over time though, the three of you became inseparable. satoru's demeanor changed from a stuck up brat to a goofy one. still a brat nonetheless.

somewhere along the way satoru developed feelings for you. he wasn't sure if it's because he was impressed by your technique and perseverance or because everytime you laugh the world suddenly becomes a better place.

he thinks you're very pretty. the way you'd scowl at his jokes, or the way you'd scold him when he got too arrogant or the way you could see through the strong front he put up, like the person he truly was, he loved you. every part of you. he'd die before he'd tell you that though.

“arcade lets go” you felt satoru’s strong arm over your shoulder as suguru trailed behind chuckling at the very obvious display of affection only he seemed to catch on.

“get lost im going shopping with shoko today” you shove him off as satoru clenched his heart dramatically. “oh come on i need my cheerleader!” he quickly rushed to stand in front of you blocking your way.

“no. even if i were to come i wouldn't be on your side” you roll your eyes at him, he only pouted. “why don't you and shoko meet us at the arcade later? we have a mission first anyway” suguru chimed in.

“get him get him!”

“hah you lost!” satoru pointed as he laughed diabolically, throwing a high five at shoko.

as a punishment for losing, “try a smoke” shoko suggested suguru hoping to catch him lacking and choke on it but suguru managed to do it elegantly. as he does everything.

“hm for you, buy me dinner. all i can eat” satoru said triumphantly. and oh it was a punishment alright. “hell no, you inhale food i’m broke” you only scowl at him annoyingly.

“no this is your punishment, you can't refuse” he rests his elbow on top of your head. “annoying ass” you grumble at which he only chuckled.

all you got him was an onigiri and a can of coke from a vending machine. you ran away before he could protest. little did you know though, satoru wanted to have dinner with you alone, as a friendly date between two friends of course.

—

it's 2006 and with the new first years in jjk high, it was more livelier than last year. all of you had gotten pretty close, you especially with a bright underclassman named haibara.

more often than not, you spent your time with haibara chatting away and fooling around which satoru did not seem amused at. not one bit. he'd get more cranky over you but being the oblivious fool you are, you couldn't tell why.

sitting under the shade of the big tree at a park the students frequent, you relaxed after a particularly hard mission. out of nowhere satoru came and sat next to you without a word.

you didn't mind his presence and sat in silence until you felt him tap your shoulder. when you turned however, his finger poked your cheeks and you glare at him menacingly which he laughed at.

“you alright?” he asked as you shook his hand away. “better when you weren't here.”

satoru scoffed “you're definitely okay. i bet you'd prefer it if haibara was here”.

“i do actually” satoru made a face at your words not liking the way you admitted it but he didn't try to move further away, only closer. closer to you.

he leaned in till he was just a breath away. was this it? if he were to take this risk all the way and possibly confess, would you accept him? or would that ruin the friendship he had with you?

as he took his time debating, you snatched his glasses and giggled. “im taking this thanks!” you stood up and ran. ah well, there go his chance.

“hey give that back!” he started chasing you. you ran as fast as you could but you stood no chance against his unnecessarily long legs as they strode over to you.

he grabbed you by your waist and held you in place as you panted, out of breath. him? not so much.

you hid his glasses behind your back but satoru couldn't care less. his heart was hammering against his chest just from the way he held you and how close you are to him. it's like the universe was shouting and telling him to tell you about his feelings. he should have listened.

“hey hey look. i’ll give this back to you if… you buy us ice cream” your voice snapped him out of his own silly thoughts.

“us?”

“mhm. ice creams for suguru, shoko, haibara and nanami. all on you.” you grinned cheekily.

as if in a daze, he nods as you smile triumphantly. you brought his glasses and put it on him. you had to admit, you were glad he had to wear those, his blue eyes were so easy to drown in.

that night, all the first and second years sat on top of the school rooftop watching the stars while eating the ice cream popsicle satoru had brought, only because you asked. life was good.

until it wasn't.

due to a leg injury you had battling a grade 2 curse, your missions were taken by the other students. although you were disappointed in yourself you knew it was the right thing to do. at least you had shoko who was always at the school for healing since she was capable of using the reverse cursed technique.

however things never looked up from there.

when you found suguru's almost lifeless slashed body on the school grounds, the world beneath your feet crumbled. shakily you dragged him out of the debris and took him to shoko. you couldn't even begin to think of what could have happened to satoru or where he could be.

a few days ago, they had left on their mission to defend the star plasma vessel in high spirits. you guys even talked about having a school trip soon after they'd return but none of that seemed plausible now.

as soon as suguru was healed he immediately went away again, mumbling something about getting satoru. you couldn't follow because your leg wasn't fully healed yet. you could only stay behind and pray nothing happens to any of your friends.

when they returned however satoru felt, different. he felt colder, more distant. his uniform was covered in blood. whose blood? you didn't want to find out. that night he just fell into your arms in defeat, still cold, still shivering but still your satoru regardless.

that wasn't the end however.

the following weeks, you had begun to notice how distant geto had become. you'd tried talking to him but he'd brush you off everytime until you eventually stopped trying, but still assuring him you were here if he ever wanted to talk.

satoru was away on missions more and more. your friendship was slowly dissipating as much as you hated to admit it but you understood it was none of your faults. things happen. or that was what you keep telling yourself.

and you yourself had started going on more and more riskier missions on your own after your leg had healed.

as if the surging amount of curses popping up and then getting stronger and stronger weren't enough, you received news that became your breaking point.

haibara. how could it be? he had left with nanami on a mission abroad from which only nanami returned alive. it was hard for you to accept his death. ever since then you started completely detaching from everyone.

“i can't do this anymore” geto mumbled. you just stare at the floor unmoving, unfeeling.

things only took into a worse turn when you found out geto had massacred a village. he'd return particularly late one night and when you asked why, he sighs. “i just killed hundreds of people y/n.”

“why?”

“you know why.”

—

it's 2007 and satoru had found himself crying, begging for you not to leave. after the stunt suguru pulled, he couldn't lose you too. not you. never you.

“suguru is doing this alone satoru” he'd heard your meek voice say.

“what about me?” his own voice was shaking, choking on his tears. it was pathetic but he couldn't care less.

seeing your hesitation he begged more.

“y/n what about me?” he cried.

the way you looked at him, the way your body froze in place it was working. you wouldn't leave him, you'd stay... until you wouldn't.

“im sorry. i don't see the point in staying”

“don't go talking like him!” he screamed. he stood there crying, afraid to take another step in case that pushes you even further away.

“i’ve made my decision. nothing you say or do can change it.” you turn around and walked away.

satoru was speechless. his world paused as everything around him became blurry.

the only clear thing his six eyes allowed him to see was your figure disappearing into the crowd.

i love you i love you i love you

toads on the tip of his tongue. if he'd said that, would you have stayed? this question still haunted him ten years later.

satoru woke up to find the blindfold wrapping his eyes dampening. he chuckled dryly as he stood up from his seat. he was at school apparently napping at an empty classroom.

coincidentally the same classroom he had spent his happiest years in, now bland and quiet.

his students megumi, yuji and nobara had walked inside, bringing life to the once empty room. the trio reminded him a lot of you, suguru and himself, his heart clenches.

“were you napping? don't fall asleep when you called us here” megumi said to him as the other two took turns to sit in his fancy chair he sat in a second ago.

he let out a non humourous chuckle as his memories haunted him.

“what are you laughing about?” megumi asked.

“nothing?” satoru quipped.

it was far from nothing. he missed his best friend and you. especially you.

he'd once told himself he'd die before ever telling you about his feelings for you. how ironic is it that you had to die first and how much did he regret not being strong enough to protect you despite being the strongest.

because what good is it being the strongest if he still isn't strong enough to protect the people he loved.

tried changing my layout this time hehe. the third year is my favourite my poor bby gojo :(((

[behyejin]

ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛᴇʀ

for @bexstevie

with all the training that they had been doing, hyejin knows it's time to catch up with some of her friends instead of practicing alone. the last time she saw stevie was when they did the acting camp together. she had a good time doing their scene together and knew it was time to talk about whatever possible with him. besides, she wanted to do something else besides be in the same practice rooms and taking the same classes. a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

taking the chance, she guides stevie to a little shop that sold all kinds of desserts. maybe she was having a sweet tooth moment and having someone to eat some treats with her was better than if she did so alone. "alright, let's try not to pick everything on the menu." she laughs a bit, a smile spreading across her lips. "how have things been with you? feel like i need to catch up lately with how busy things have felt."

[oraclekleins]

hello hello!! i discovered you a few hours ago and LOVE your content<3

could i request a joost klein x gn!reader where the reader is also competing in eurovision, representing {readers country} and basically they are already dating and joost kind of gets jealous because readers new make up artist got a little TOO touchy.. once they get back to their shared hotel room he expresses that jealousy by getting a bit more clingy?

when reader tried to ask about whats wrong he just kisses them or brushes it off as not important :3

thank you if you accept my request and have a great day <3

ill be 🩵anon if that’s okay!

Hii! Thanks for being so sweet, nonnie! Hope this is up to your liking. 💙 I changed the prompt a little iiif that's alright, so here's kind of an aftermath of that. ^^ I love any feedback.

You're Overcomplicating Things . . -> Jealous!Joost Klein x Reader

The buzzing of Joost's phone wakes him with a start. 

His head turns a bit to the side, slowed from exhaustion. Joost's vision is still catching up with him, the living room gauzed in a radial blur; he feels like he’s wading through quicksand — dragging himself to sit up, before his arm catches another body. You're curled onto the left side of the bed, unmoving —  the pillow your arm was wrapped around having ended up on the floor. There’s a spot of drool on your hoodie, plush lips tugged along the bold Eurovision logo of your sleeve. 

“Morning,” Joost mumbles, patting the cushions for his phone. His voice is groggy, scratched dry from the shitty beers you two had downed the night before. He grimaces at the spit webbed on the top of his mouth, flicks at it with his tip of tongue in disgust. He moves to gently push at your leg; it’s hot, too hot for you to lounge this close; there’s a pool of sweat sinking into the crook of his chest — he feels gross, sticky, uncomfortable. There's a heavy silence in the air. It feels like you did something wrong, but you can't place your finger on it. You stir in response, a whine of annoyance rumbling from your throat. You blink over to see what Joost's all worked up about, who’s grabbing his phone from the nightstand, pinching at his forehead.

"Good morning — what's wrong?" You're still waking up, clearing the spit from your throat. Biting back a cough, you manage to sit up, pressing on the wrinkles from your shirt.

Joost offers you a tired smile, moving to kiss your forehead. "Long day ahead, right? Hop to it." A bit of enthusiasm pokes out of his voice as the words die out, his lips trailing to your jaw, pressing into it. It feels like he's hiding from you, even when he's slotted into your side like a puzzle piece, lazily tracing his fingers against your hip.

He's sulking, the boy-shape trying to disappear into your skin, upset and loathing.

Your fingers find his curls, gently raking your nails across his scalp. He makes a noise of satisfaction, face nestling closer to your collarbone.

You would know his envious touches through death. There were small, red marks around your waist where he had been pressing into it, marking you, yet.. gentle. Apologetically, he rubbed his thumb over them, turning his face from you.

"Joost," you sigh, "you think it's stupid," he perks up. "Right? That's why you won't tell me."

His bottom lip is caught between his teeth. "Your makeup, it looked good yesterday. The new artist. Good." Joost fixates on the blanket under you both, looking anywhere but at you. "Good connection."

"Good connection?" He's already kissing the words from your mouth, stealing them from you. If he took them, then he wouldn't have to hear you say them. Listen to you accuse him — be disappointed. "Joost, let me," you're tired of this game already, and he's holding you like he can't get enough, arms tightly wrapped around your waist. You can feel the tense of panic in him, cold throughout his veins, a tremble to his grip.

You're prying his fingers away — careful, soft, not like a punishment. A warning. "You need to talk to me."

Joost is quiet for a minute. He's thinking. His uncomfortable grin is full of teeth, ones that graze on your irritability, biting into you like a peach. He doesn’t wipe the juice from his mouth —  instead lets it dry on his chin, picking at the stain. A rash of his own, festering nerves.

He sits up. Joost's tank hugs his figure. His hair is coiffed into loose, blonde strands of fray, kissing the back of his neck — bouncing when he tilts his head. He frowns. You wrap your arm around his shoulder, keeping him afloat.

"You do not rehearse today, yes?" Joost asks after a bit. You want to make a remark about how you have his schedule memorized, everything written down on your phones, laid out for him — it's a little mean. He doesn't need it right now.

Swinging your legs to the side of his bed, you nod. "Not today, yeah. You want me to come hang out with you?"

Joost nods, a little too fast.

You kiss the side of his head, pulling him back into your chest. "You need to tell me when you're upset. Even if you think I'm gonna get mad, or, I don't know — weirded out."

"I love you." You hum into shoulder. You're ghosting the pad of your thumb against his cheekbone. He looks satisfied, curling back into you.

Joost tangles your fingers. You know how this goes.

"I love you too."

Thanks for reading!

[limethefirst]

PART 2 OF VOID RUNNERS PLEASEE😭🙏

Void Runners Pt.2

pairings: Deadpool x Wolverine x teen!reader

warnings: contains heavy spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine, swearing, crude humor, Deadpool

summary: After escaping Cassandra's lair you find yourself tagging along with Deadpool and Wolverine in hopes of saving their universe as well as getting out of the void

Part 1 / Part 3

a/n: Ask and you shall receive! This is a continuation of Void Runners since people seemed to really enjoy it! I hope it lives up to what you guys were expecting, I was thinking of ways to involve the reader a bit more! Request are open

You had no idea what was happening. One moment you were watching as Cassandra was about to let the giant monster known as Alioth eat you, the next you were being squished by Deadpool on some type of rocket soaring through the sky escaping the close clutches of death itself.

There wasn't much time to process anything because you were already about to crash, and were flung straight into the hard, dusty ground you've come to know as the Void.

A groan escaped you lips as you sat up, looking towards your new companion's, Deadpool and Wolverine; noticing how Deadpool was on top of him, your brows raised a bit.

"What cha' thinking 'bout?" Deadpool asked him, his voice laced with an innocent tone.

Logan wasn't fond of this at all, "Get the fuck off of me," he said, almost growling at the man.

"Shh shh, almost done"

"Almost done what?!" he look up at Deadpool, concerned about what he meant by that.

Deadpool now changed his tone to a more annoyed one, "Getting my knife out of your buttock, you pervert! Get your bind out of my pants!" Both men were now getting up, "I'm telling Blake!"

Deadpool looked over to you and grabbed your arm pulling you up next to him. Then he gave you a silly thumbs up, which you didn't understand why but just gave him a smile in return as a thank you for the gesture.

"New rule!" Logan began again, "I talk now" this time he looked at you as well.

"I haven't even said anything?!" You looked at him confused. Throwing your arms up a bit, and looking at Deadpool as well.

"Hush little one, Papa is talking right now" Deadpool looked over to you, holding up one finger to signal you to be quiet as he talked to Logan. You threw your arms up again now looking at Logan as he groaned at whatever was going on, obviously exhausted.

"Shut the fuck up!" Logan had now turned around, "Let me fucking think, we gotta get back to paradox right? Right?"

"Am I allowed to speak now?" Deadpool asked him sarcastically, you could tell he was smiling.

"Just nod asshole" Logan was fed up at this point.

Deadpool gave in and gave Logan a slight up and down, letting his buddy say what he needed to. Logan then looked at you as if something in his brain clicked.

"Johnny said something about others before you got him killed!"

"Poor kid? He was like fifty!" Deadpool shoots back, insulted by the comment.

Logan looked back at you, "You've been here longer then any of us have, do you know where we can find these guys?"

You hesitated before speaking to him, "I have an idea," you said, Logan looked back at Deadpool and nodded.

"You're gonna help us find them and get us out of here," Logan told you. He wasn't willing to listen to any protest, but you didn't care to argue, this was your chance at escape and by God you were gonna take it.

"Alright, I'll do my best then." You nodded at him, jumping on the bandwagon of opportunity.

"Oh I knew it was a good idea to bring you along sugar sprinkles!" Deadpool said as he patted your back, which honestly felt more like a hard slap, that lightly pushed you forward.

"You better fix my shit like you fucking promised," Logan pointed his finger at Deadpool's chest as you stepped to the side, look straight ahead noticing something in the distance.

"I smell a quest!"

"I smell food,"

This caused both men to look at what you were looking at.

A little restaurant not to far from here.

Logan was turning the place upside, you were unsure what he was looking for as he'd already found you guys some unopened spam to eat.

Deadpool finally had his mask off and you noticed what he looked like without it, you couldn't help but feel bad for him, even with the way he is, something tragic must have happened for his face to be all scarred the way it was.

"So what made you finally wear an honest to God costume?" He asked in between bites, "Mines red so they can't see me bleed." This time he turned to you and gave you a strange smile as he took yet another bite. "I can see how yellow can be useful too!"

Logan turned around and stared him down, "Have you been checked for ADHD?"

"Nu uh," Deadpool answered, mouth full with a big smile.

"You should," This time you answered as you finally tried the spam, it wasn't too bad for God knows how old it could've been.

You could hear a chuckle come from Logan as he continued his search.

"Though I've had several STD's, probably caused by ADHD" Deadpool told you guys.

You just rolled your eyes at him, wondering where he gets these ideas from. You guys both sat there longer watching Logan. Deadpool sat on one side of the booth, you sat on the edge of the table a bit, and Logan was still searching.

"What are you even looking for?" You asked the bigger man, curious what was making him more frustrated then the red masked fellow next to you.

All you heard was a mumble before you saw him grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"No no no no no, that's rubbing alcohol, you don't want to-" Before he could even finish his sentence Logan had already chugged most of it down, you turned a bit to him and sat yourself next to Deadpool watching Logan come towards the table, "Oh yup there you go, there you go, fuck that liver."

"Don't come to me when you need a liver transplant," Deadpool gave an amused snuff at your comment and turned back to the big fellow.

"What the fuck are those?" Logan was looking at, staples in Deadpool's head? You turned to look at it and you stared a little too hard that you could see the little strands of most likely fake hair pinched in between it.

"Oh, back in civilian life I wore a toupee, but nobody knows," Deadpool gave a little smile as he looked at you guys, touching his phantom hair.

Both you and Logan began to laugh a little at this, "They fucking know" you told him.

Logan joined in on the teasing, "Everybody knows," Logan gave you a smile, being glad someone else is there to help him tease the annoying red suited vigilante.

"Wanna talk about what's haunting you, or are we gonna wait for a third act flashback?"

"Ughh go fuck yourself," this was all it took for Logan to go back to the bar stools as he sat there, drinking his rubbing alcohol.

You gave Deadpool and annoyed look at elbowed him a bit, trying to get him to lay off the man a bit; it seemed to get through to him, as he rolled his eyes and began to talk again, "In my world, you're uh, well regarded."

"Not in mine," Logan didn't look back, he just took another sip.

"Well they don't like me much in my world," Deadpool said trying to lighten the mood.

"We couldn't tell.." You told him, as you stood up and threw away your empty spam cup.

"I wanted to be something, you know? Shit, I wanted to be an Avenger!"

"Fuck the Avengers,"

"I didn't make the cut though, same with the X-men," Deadpool paused, picking his next words wisely. "My girlfriend left me,"

"You had a girlfriend?" Logan asked, with genuine curiosity.

"Yea, Vanessa, when we met she was a dancer, made a whole life, it was good, but oh boy I just, uh"

You stood by the trash, leaning against the wall, not wanting to intrude on their moment.

"But fuck, you were an X-men, fuck that you were the X-man. You, uh the Wolverine, you were a hero in my world."

"Yea well, he ain't shit in mine." Logan finished his drink, if that's what you could even call it.

Deadpool turned to you, as if asking you to say something too. You let out a bit of a sigh before speaking.

"You saved me in my world."

Logan turned his head a little bit, and Deadpool gave you a somber look, unlike his normal self.

"I was in an accident, but I saw this man with metal claws, he helped me, he got me out." You closed your eyes and breathed.

"It inspired me to become who I am today, every Wolverine, is a hero in every universe, no matter what." You looked up at the both of them, "Well it's what I think at least. I didn't recognize you at first, but when I heard your name, I knew who you were, even if you aren't from my universe."

Logan looked back down at his empty hands, he began to think. The silence was killing you. Deadpool could tell and so he went back to his normal demeanor. "Alright sugar tits," Deadpool looks at Logan, "Time to go!"

It was time to continue your adventure in finding the people who would help you escape this place.

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 014 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. modern royal au. explicit smut, 18+. fingering. angst. unedited. toxic characters & toxic relationships. fluff. romance.

notes. feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3

wc. 11k

series masterlist 

[ FOURTEEN ] you say, “I don’t understand,” and I say, “I know you don’t.” we thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won’t.

The night couldn’t come close to what Rintaro had dreamt of.

Laughter rang throughout the house, the gentle murmur of the ocean harmonizing with the convivial conversations, a moment that felt both timeless and precious. The beach house, aglow with soft, ambient lighting, mimicked the warm murmurs of his heart.

Rintaro sat between his brothers on the living room, a sense of profound contentment washing over him. His gaze swept across the scene before him: his family, radiant and effervescent, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames of a nearby bonfire. His brothers’ cheeks reddened by the liquor, their faces pulled back in laughter. They shoved one another as they fervently pressed on the game’s buttons, teasing and shoving one another.

He marveled at the simple pleasures – the shared stories, the clink of glasses, the playful banter that filled the air with a blatant sense of belonging.

The night was redolent with the scent of the sea, mingling with the fragrant notes of jasmine and citrus from the garden – he’d ensured to fill the surroundings with anything but vanilla in hopes of pleasing you. Leaning back on the couch, Rintaro watched as the waves lapped gently against the shore, their rhythmic cadence a soothing counterpoint to the lively atmosphere. The stars, scattered like diamonds, adorned the velvet sky – reminding him of you. How your eyes shone and glimmered like stars, or the way your face lit up each time he came close.

You no longer hated him. Or if you did, you hated him less.

You were finally looking at him like how you always used to.

In that moment, Rintaro felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude Everything felt right in his world. The beach house – a sanctuary where memories were made and love was rekindled. The laughter of his brothers, the shared glances and secret smiles. He felt connected to everything around him.

“What was that all about?”

Rintaro faced his brothers. The others who stayed around were huddled around the couch playing Mario Kart, their attention honed in on a deeply absorbed Tooru, determined to win.

“Yeah, what was that?” teased Atsumu, taking another swig of his drink. “Since when have you and Maiko become close?”

Tooru rolled his eyes. “We were always close.”

“Was close, until you got married,” corrected Osamu before sharing a knowing look with his twin. A split second later, and the twins erupted into laughter, the sound mocking and echoing. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for her.”

“I’m not. Don’t be stupid,” Tooru’s clicking on the controls got louder. “We just… fighting gets old sometimes, alright? You grow up eventually.”

“I’m pretty certain not fighting is not the same as ‘oh, I scored a point, let me run to my wife and hug her!’”

Rintaro and his brothers sniggered. It was the sight, indeed – one that both confused and amused all of them. The married pair had always been like cat and mouse, with Maiko being the cat and Tooru the mouse who ran away at the mere sight of her. But something had changed, something had shifted between the two. No one knew where it began, or how it happened. It was just there. A change so sudden Rintaro might’ve gotten whiplash, and wondered if Tooru had ever been interested in you in the first place. Or maybe he’d been so blinded by jealousy he assumed everyone was going to steal you away from him.

The thought of it made the liquor taste bitter on his tongue.

“The rest of you should get married and see for yourselves,” mumbled Tooru, “Might make you man up, too.”

His brother received a chorus of noncommittal grunts. None of them were in no rush to get married, more so because the Queen might arrange one for them. There’d been whispers here and there already how the twins might be next, and neither seemed ecstatic by the idea. Osamu was more on the neutral side, whilst Atsumu passionately went against it.

“Speaking of marriage, you and the Princess have been… oddly fond of each other.”

Rintaro’s eyes flickered to Osamu, brow raising at the hidden implications of his otherwise innocent tone. Although he knew his brother well – nothing was ever innocent with Osamu. He was merely a more discreet version of his reckless brother.

“We were always fond of each other.”

“I meant to say that she does not look like you she hates you now.”

“That’s because she does not,” affirmed Rintaro, feeling pride swell in his chest. He felt confident enough to believe in his words. He knew he’d been a good husband – he’d been attentive to all your needs, let you pull on the reigns and ordered him around like he wasn’t the Crown Prince. Curiously enough, Rintaro did not mind. He rather enjoyed that you were speaking with him again, and you’d tolerated him enough to even smile around his presence. That, and you’d finally let him hold you each time you slept. To say he was in heaven would be an understatement.

“We are finally heading in the right direction.”

“Right,” Atsumu scratched his nose, clearly not believing it. “If that’s what you say, sure. Congratulations on your everlasting marriage, brother.”

Rintaro bit back his tongue. Refusing to let his brothers ruin his night, he quickly stood up and bid them farewell. Find my wife was his only thought in that moment. He saw you rushing upstairs a while ago, but did not follow since you didn’t hear him calling out for you. Not that he thought much about it – he knew hosting and attending to everybody must’ve been quite stressful for you. You’ve been running around in circles.

Now that the night was ending, Rintaro’s only desire was to tend to you, and hold you close.

Taking two steps at a time, he quickly reached the bedroom. He hadn’t realized how eager he was to lay his eyes upon you. And as ridiculous as it sounded, he’d missed you. Having his brothers around meant both your attentions were divided. That could be changed, though. Everyone would soon retire in their rooms, and he could have you all for himself again.

Rintaro stepped quietly into your bedroom, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the expansive glass walls, casting a silvery sheen over everything it touched. He paused at the entrance, his breath catching as he saw you standing by the window. Your silhouette framed against the vast, star-studded sky. You’re wearing nothing but a silky white nightgown, the sides of it falling down your left shoulder to reveal a strip of bare skin. Bathed under the moonlight, he would’ve thought you were an angel who fell right before him.

Lost in thought, you gazed out at the night scenery.

The gentle waves of the ocean shimmered under the moon’s gentle caress, and the distant sound of the sea breeze whispering through the trees filled the air. The sight of you, bathed in the ethereal glow, made his chest tighten with something unfamiliar. Something alien, something stranger. You looked almost otherworldly, an arm wrapped around your center, and he found it impossible to look away.

The delicate curve of your neck, the lines that made up your profile – everything about you in that moment was perfection.

Rintaro felt his heart swell. Had you always been this beautiful? He knew you were attractive; he wouldn’t have bothered wasting his time on someone he didn’t find pretty. But you were always more than just a pretty face. You were so beautiful, so enchanting, standing there like a figure from a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. He was afraid just as he was bewitched – afraid he’d wake up and find none of this was real, and captivated by how ethereal you looked.

It seemed difficult to wrap his around the fact you were his, because how could he have been so lucky?

He approached you slowly, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you murmured, sensing his presence without turning. It made him smile and pause on his tracks, his gaze fixated on your back before his eyes flickered towards the glass. Through the reflection, he saw you looking back at him, your lips pulling into the smallest of smiles.

His heart stuttered in his chest. Stupid – that’s what he felt. He was as nervous as a schoolboy. “Yes,” he replied softly, his voice full of emotion. As if pulled by an invisible string, Rintaro stepped closer to you – close enough he could inhale the scent of your shampoo and bury his nose in it. That’s exactly what he did. Weak when it came to his wife, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him, resting his cheek at the top of your head. “But not as beautiful as you.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes shining with the same light that illuminated the night. A smile played on your lips, and in that shared moment of silent connection, he felt an unspoken bond deepen between you. The night, the scenery, the serenity of their surroundings – it all paled in comparison to the beauty he saw in you.

He understood now – why men went to war and put their lives on the line because they believed in something. Because they had something, or someone, worth protecting. Now that you were in his arms, pliant and soft, wholly gorgeous and utterly his, he knew he felt the same.

He would gladly go to war for you.

In fact, there was nothing he couldn’t do for you, because of you. He understood now why people get married, because if this was how his daily life was going to look life, then it seemed a real shame that he could not live forever. A lifetime with you wasn’t enough. And for a brief moment, Iris’ face flickered through his head. This time, the image of her did not fill with him with adoration, or raging jealousy, the blinding effect of greed. He felt nothing but animosity towards her in that moment, his heart chiding him because how could he have been so stupid?

She was nothing like you. She couldn’t – and would never – come close to you.

Rintaro’s eyes softened as he studied your features. Your eyes were red, and dark circles lined them. “Hey,” he nudged your forehead with the pads of his knuckles, “What are you thinking so hard about?”

“Nothing.”

He hummed, the sound vibrating in his throat. It didn’t seem like it was nothing, but he didn’t push. He trusted you would tell him when you were ready. For now, he simply wanted to have you like this – in his arms, breathing in his scent, and eyes closed as he swayed you from side to side.

“I missed you.”

Your lips wobbled as you fought back a smile. “Did you now?”

Rintaro was not good with words – never have, never will. He decided in that moment it would be best to convey the emotions he couldn’t express through actions, kissing the top of your head and spinning you to face him. With your face cradled in his hands, Rintaro leant down, his lips gently – but passionately – meeting yours.

It isn’t his first kiss. But it felt like it was in that moment, his heart rampaging inside his ribcage when you made a small sound of surprise. The sound echoed through him, and he groaned, finding the last bits of his restraint breaking like a rusty chain.

Unable to help himself, he gathered you in his arms. Tapping you once on the ass, you immediately jumped into his hold, your legs wrapped around his waist. It was a blur after that – he’d fallen on the bed with you on top of him as soon as the back of his knees hit the wood. It’s nothing if not messy, just as it was sensual and slow – painfully and excruciatingly slow. Yet he couldn’t go fast, refusing to pin you down on the bed and take you hard.

Maybe it was the moonlight flittering in the room. Maybe it was your feminine, soft scent that made him lightheaded and heedy with desire. All he knew was that he wanted the moment to last, wanted to cherish every single thing he did.

So, slow it is. He was slow and took his time as he flipped you under him, using his knee to settle himself in between your legs. Your eyes are blown wide, the mounds on your chest rising up and down with each staggered breath. It filled him with a sense of achievement knowing he’d been the one to cause your undoing. Smiling softly at you, he dove in for another kiss, moaning all throughout at your taste – like red wine, soft and swirling at his tongue. With deft fingers, he reached over to slide the straps of your nightgown down your shoulder, pulling away to pepper small, heated kisses over the skin. You’re breathing hard the entire time.

And your hands are everywhere – tugging at the buttons of his shirt, pulling at the annoying pants he’d kept on. His laugh is muffled as he presses them to the nape of your neck, licking and sucking until you were keening under his palm.

He decided not to torture you any longer. Sliding his lips back to your mouth, Rintaro gently pushed you back to the pillows, his fingers finding purchase at your heat. The moment his hand came in contact with your damp underwear, you whimpered, and he greedily swallowed down the sound. You were so beautiful, so unreal.

Pushing the material to the side, he pushed two fingers and curled them in. Your reaction is instantaneous – pushing your hips off the bed, tilting your neck to the side as you gasped in his mouth. He took the chance and slid his tongue, sucking on yours while his mind ran a mile a minute.

It was as if his senses had been amped up to two.

The rustling of the sheets, the squelch of his fingers in your cunt, and the lewd, slick sounds of your tongues dancing together. It wasn’t long before you’re falling apart in his hands. Moaning, you tugged at his hair, the slight sting nearly driving him crazy. You did this to him; making him fall prey to your desire, making him bend his will at whatever you pleased. He realized you could stab him at this moment, slit his throat, abandon him – he would’ve died a happy man. Seeing you sprawled out before him, your nipples peaked and hard through the thin material of your nightgown, lips bruised and shiny with saliva. You’d never been more beautiful in his eyes.

And when you called out his name, not Your Highness, not my Prince, just Rintaro, he allowed himself to sink deep into you.

Rintaro has reached nirvana. With one hand holding you down by the hip, and the other cradling your face, his thumb caressing your lower lip, his eyes are locked with yours. The world could come crashing down, and nothing could tear his gaze away from you. He drinks you in greedily – every fluttering lash when he thrusts deep, or the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you squeezed tight around him. Beautiful, mine, mine mine mine – his throat constricts with the affection he’s trying so hard to hold back. He wanted to fuck you hard enough you left a deep imprint on the bed, the shape of your bodies embossed on the sheet. To slide in deep, and carve a space for himself inside you that no one else would reach.

He was a mess, and so were you. Wet, sloppy kisses that were more tongue and teeth than lips, with you holding onto him for dear life. It makes him chuckle, only for that same sound to come out garbled and chucked each time you tightened around him. And when you come, your cream outlining a ring around his cock, eyes shut tight and lower lip held captive by your teeth, Rintaro only had one thing in mind: marriage was a beautiful thing.

“You,” he croaked out, feeling a lump form at his throat. He couldn’t understand why his eyes glossed over with tears, or why the mere sight of you brought out with him emotions he was unfamiliar with. “I adore you.”

You reached over to cup his face, your eyes unreadable. “We should rest.”

The sheets were damp, your bodies sticky and uncomfortable. Yet Rintaro couldn’t pull away from you, not even if he were to be forcibly taken away. This is where he belonged – deep inside you, your foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling and your hands intertwined until your wedding rings clinked at the contact.

Here is where he belonged.

Kissing you one last time, Rintaro lets his arms fall around you. He collapses at your side, still buried in your warm, wet heat. He’d been mumbling sleepy nonsense as he tugged you closer to him, an arm wrapped around your midsection, your legs and his just one confusing entanglement. Slowly, his heart returned to its normal pace. It’s no longer screaming, rather humming your name. Nothing felt more right. You were there, your cheek resting on top of his bicep curled under you.

Drawing circles over your bare hip, the delicate scent of roses enveloped him, subtle yet intoxicating.

It was your scent, a fragrance that clung to you like an invisible halo. He couldn’t stop himself from breathing in deeply, savoring the floral notes that seemed to blend seamlessly with the night air. You smelled like grace and elegance, of tender moments shared and memories cherished. Like a princess from a fairytale, he thought, smiling into your skin, because you were a princess. His princess, his wife.

He loved the way you smelled, your fragrance lingering into the sheets and onto his skin long after you’d fallen asleep. Each inhalation was a revelation, a moment of pure, unadulterated connection he’d never felt before. Delicate and profound – you were kissed by the morning dew, fresh and timeless. He cherished it, breathed it in just in case he forgot before looking out the window.

Outside, the whole world stayed still. His Kingdom was out in the open, all for him to take. It was his – the land, the people, all the wealth and power one could wish for. Yet Rintaro felt no attachment to it.

The real treasure was there, in his arms, sharing the same bed with him.

The realization that he wasn’t desperate to be King anymore made him tighten his hold on you, his face buried at the crook of your neck. This was all he wanted now. To live the rest of his life like this – with you, in this home. But he knew it couldn’t be that easy. He had to sever all ties from his past before he could move onto the future, and fully enjoy the present.

Tomorrow, he would break up with Iris.

Tomorrow, he would tell you those three words he’d never uttered before.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨.

Through the efforts of the royal staff, the palace became a veritable spectacle of opulence and grandeur, transformed into a shimmering paradise befitting for the ninth prince’s debut ball. Crystal chandeliers hung like clusters of starlight from the vaulted ceilings, casting a soft, golden glow over the marble floors that gleamed underfoot. The walls were adorned with rich tapestries and floral arrangements that exuded a heady perfume – one that made Rintaro feel squeamish inside his suit.

Guests in their finest attire filled the grand ballroom, a sea of jewel-toned gowns and sharp tuxedos. The air buzzed with the lively hum of conversation, punctuated by the clinking of champagne glasses and bursts of laughter. An orchestra played a waltz, the music weaving through the crowd and inviting couples to the dance floor, where they glided with grace and precision.

Scanning the ballroom, it was a kaleidoscope of movement and color. Dignitaries, ambassadors, and nobles from far and wide had gathered, their presence a testament to the importance of the occasion. The most influential figures in the kingdom mingled effortlessly, their animated discussions ranging from politics to the latest fashions. The sheer number of luminaries was staggering, each one adding to the ball’s prestige and splendor. Leave it to the Queen to turn a young boy’s important day of his life as an opportunity to establish connections and flaunt her power.

At the center of it all stood Prince Tobio, resplendent in a tailored suit that accentuated his princely bearing. His eyes sparkled with excitement and gratitude as he moved through the crowd, graciously accepting well-wishes and gifts. He was the epitome of charm, engaging each guest with a smile that radiated genuine warmth.

Tables laden with an array of culinary delights lined the edges of the room, each dish a masterpiece of gourmet artistry. From delicate hors d'oeuvres to decadent desserts, the kingdom’s finest chefs had given their utmost best to impress. Servers moved with practiced elegance, ensuring that no glass went unfilled and no plate remained empty.

It was a beautiful ball, Rintaro had to admit. A ball he would’ve greatly appreciated were he not occupied digging his hands into Iris’ hip, her gown fisted under his palms. She tasted even more exquisite today, her lipstick had a touch of cranberries, and he could faintly taste fizzy champagne from her tongue.

It was an unspoken agreement between the two that they would keep their hands to themselves during public events like this. But it was far from being easy – not when Iris wore a tight-fitting gown that accentuated all her curves, leaving very little to Rintaro’s imagination. He’d seen it all, of course. He’d kissed and licked at every spot and corner of her body. He’d memorized the way she tasted on his tongue, or the face she made when he knew she was about to come. He knew all that, and still couldn’t get enough of her. Before the Princess could react, he’d already dragged her into the nearest hallway, his lips furiously crashing with hers.

Screw the party. It wasn’t like his presence was needed; all the Princes had attended. Surely they would not notice the absence of one.

Iris moaned into his mouth, her perfectly manicured nails running upward his suit. She broke free from him to breathe for a moment, but Rintaro was unbothered. He’d turned his attention to sucking down on her neck, his mind flaring with possessiveness. A strategically placed hickey for everyone to see would please him – but it would also make Iris mad at him.

“Your Highness, we should stop this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Iris,” he mumbled, uncaring as Iris wove her hands through his thick hair. “We’re just having fun, are we not? It’s not like anyone can see. I made sure we would be alone.”

“It’s not that,” she flattened her palms over his chest and gave a gentle shove. It’s enough for Rintaro to pull back, studying the way her lower lip puckered out – just like how she always did when she wanted something from him. “I just… I think our relationship is pointless. I don’t see this going anywhere.”

Rintaro chuckled, tipping her chin upwards to make her look at him. “Where would it go? You’re married. I’m in line for the throne. We couldn’t have any more than what we have now.”

“That’s exactly why we should break up. I’m married, and I’m tired of being passed around between you brothers like I’m some sort of toy. I’m a princess, Rinnie. I deserve to have more dignity than just being your… plaything, or whatever.”

“You are not my plaything.”

“I am not your wife, either.”

He stepped back. Tipping his head to the side, he let his eyes roam over Iris’ figure. She was gorgeous, that much was evident. She had sinful curves, her golden skin radiant as if she was touched by the light itself. It was fitting, he thought. Iris burned bright like the sun – passionate, fiery, and scalding. He’d known her long enough that she would stop at nothing to get at what she wanted, but her dilemma was not something he could easily offer her on a platter.

“Is that what you want, then? Title and dignity?”

Iris was a Princess by marriage, one arranged by the Queen herself.

However, Rintaro thought bitterly, no amount of elegance lessons or femininity practices could change Iris at her core. She was a Princess only by decoration, the twinkling tiara on her pretty head an accessory she received from being associated with his brother. But she was not regal – her temper too short, her lies too deceiving, and her smiles too empty.

He loved her, yet somehow the thought of sharing the crown with her felt wrong. Now that he thought about it, not even Princess Maiko would make a fitting Queen – not that Tooru would ever be in line for ascension. It was just a realization. Iris was too hollow in her heart, and Maiko was too childish.

None of them would make good Queens.

Iris shook her head, the tendrils of hair left to frame her face swaying at the motion. “I want security. I don’t want to keep fooling around with you if it risks my position. Unlike you, I don’t have a sweet, dear mother who would catch me if I’m kicked out of the Palace.”

Rintaro gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Fine. I’ll be King, then. And once I ascend to the throne, I’ll have you and my brother separated, and you shall be mine for the rest of our lives.”

She looked like she wanted to laugh at his face, which shouldn’t have to hurt as much as it did. “This is a ridiculous plan. You’re not serious, are you?”

His lips twitched. Somehow, he wanted to wipe that smug look off her face. It was a face he’d seen enough from his tutors and governesses – all too familiar with their disappointed shakes of their head, their pitying looks whenever Rintaro aimed too high. Just stick to the books, they said, there is no need for you to be great. Follow only what is expected of you. Rintaro detested that, to fit into their image of how he should and shouldn’t be.

Levelling his hard gaze with hers, he ripped himself away from her body. Scalded, burnt – that’s how he felt each time he was with her.

“Watch me.”

Rintaro stood at the edge of the ballroom, his keen eyes sweeping over the glittering crowd. His heart was set on finding a suitable potential wife, someone who embodied innocence and modesty. He sought a woman whose presence did not draw undue attention, someone who exuded a quiet grace that promised loyalty and submission. He needed a woman who would be malleable to the wife he wanted, the Queen he needed her to be. Even if it was only to prove a point to Iris that he could succeed, Rintaro still felt that he could not take his decisions lightly.

He had to consider the throne, the mother of his children, a future Princess and a potential Queen.

Observing the throng of guests, his gaze flitted past the more striking and flamboyant ladies who basked in the limelight. They were all stunning, of course. He’d be lying if his gaze did not linger longer than what was seemed acceptable whenever the ladies giggled at his attention. Nevertheless, his attention lingered on those who seemed to blend in the background, their beauty understated and their demeanor serene. Surely one of them would catch his eye. That’s all he wanted – an unassuming, plain, and dull doll whom he could shape to be good enough to stand next to him. He was the Crown Prince, after all.

He looked and looked – and there you were. In a dark blue gown, your eyes downcast in shyness. You moved with an elegance that spoke of gentleness and humility, smiling politely at everyone who greeted you. Still, he could tell you felt out of place. You stuck out like a sore thumb, plastered at the wall, staring out into nothingness and looking like you’d rather be anywhere than here.

And the best part? No other men approached you.

With his goal in sight, Rintaro approached you, impressed with the way you carried yourself with quiet dignity, your every gesture imbued with a subtle charm. You seemed unassuming, yet your eyes held a depth in them that intrigued him. He smiled to himself, deciding that a demure maiden like you might just be the perfect match he was seeking.

“Splendid ball, is it not?”

“Your Highness,” your eyes widened, and Rintaro awaited it. A crack in your composed stature, a flaw for him to point out. Yet, you did not stutter despite your initial shock, your features schooling into that of well-practiced manners in the blink of an eye. “A most wonderful ball, indeed.”

As the Prince surveyed you, his eyes were drawn to your modest adornment. You wore a simple necklace and earring set, understated yet remarkably elegant. It was vastly different from the layers and chunks of crystals the other ladies wore. It was then that recognition sparked in his mind – the jewelry was from a rare collection that had once captivated Her Majesty. He could still remember that day clearly; his mother’s disappointment when she learned it was already sold. Very rarely did the Queen not get what she wanted, but to think that you – simple, quiet, and shy – would be the one to snatch it right under Her Majesty’s nose.

He had to admit, you piqued his curiosity and admiration.

“My baby brother is finally on his path on becoming a man,” he continued, effortlessly swiping a flute of champagne when a servant passed by. You were quick to follow his action, and Rintaro couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name, and your face… Have I seen you around before?”

“Probably not, my Prince. These events are not really my thing.”

He didn’t doubt that. Shortly, you introduced yourself, shocking him as he learned you were a daughter of one of the three noble clans that helped his ancestors build the Inarizaki Empire. He hid his surprise by taking a sip of his drink, and pretended to be nonplussed.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman.”

“How very kind of you, my Prince.”

Deciding you couldn’t be any more perfect, Rintaro cut to the chase. “Are you married?” he’d blurted out, amused by the way your brows shot up. A quick glance at your gloved fingers showed that you were ringless, but so was he, and his heart was still taken by another. “Or, to be married?”

“No. I’m… as available as a lady can be.”

“Then I suppose you would not mind entertaining a Prince bored out of his mind for one night, do you?”

The internal dilemma is written all over your face. It’s obvious you didn’t want to dance, but who are you to say no when the Crown Prince has his hand outstretched?

“Oh, uh… I don’t think you would want me as a dance partner, Your Highness. I have been told I have two left feet–”

“Don’t worry about it. You can step on my feet if you require,” he encouraged, “Come on. Will you really deny your future King a dance?”

“If you insist…”

Forcing a smile to yourself that was more shy than uncomfortable, you eventually placed your hands on his. A perfect fit, if he dared to say it.

The orchestra struck up a waltz, and Rintaro led you to the dance floor. As you began to move, there was an initial and pronounced awkwardness, your hesitance palpable. You were able to follow his lead with precision, your steps flawless and elegant, yet your body was stiff with discomfort. You even stepped on him once or twice, grimacing and quickly apologizing – much to his chagrin. He hadn’t realized one could look so adorable in their conquest of trying not to crush his toes. Despite your unease, however, you danced with a grace that naturally came to you.

As the dance progressed, Rintaro’s eyes scanned for Iris. He found her stood beside Kiyoomi, her husband uninterested and unresponsive as ever. He had his back turned to her, his eyes closed as he leant against the wall. Nursing a drink in her hands, Iris’ gaze connected with his, her eyes narrowing at Rintaro’s hand resting on your waist. Then, her gaze flickered upwards to smirk at him – daring him, challenging him, to prove his words.

Rintaro clenched his jaw. He’d been so distracted by Iris he didn’t notice you’d stepped on his toes again until a short laugh bubbled up from his throat. It surprised you both – neither of you had expected he would find it funny. But he did, and he found himself inexplicably drawn to you.

When the music finally ceased, you both shared a knowing smile before doubling over in silent chuckles. Rintaro pointed at his toes, faking injuries until you were apologizing again and again – your eyes lighting up in joy.

“You are a splendid dancer. It is a shame you look like you would not entertain me for a second one.”

You placed a hand to your chest. “Of course I would never say no to you, Your Highness.”

“So you would not mind if I asked you for another dance later?”

“If it is what you would like.”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

 He led you off the dance floor after that, compelled with a desire to actually speak to you. And so conversations were had, and he soon discovered your intelligence and wit, the humor lighting up your face and bringing a warmth to your demeanor. It was a warmth people from the Palace lacked, a genuinity in them he never knew was possible.

Your laughter, a sound he found unexpectedly enchanting, softened your features, making you even more beautiful. In those moments, he realized with a pleasant surprise that he enjoyed your company. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed that hard, or spoke so easily with someone like he’d known them forever.

Could it be fate, then? Was he always meant to find you?

Shaking his head in laughter, his bangs fell into his eyes. “You are very pleasant company to have. I’m surprised no one has snagged you for themselves yet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Nobody is interested.”

“I find that a shame. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“There are just more eligible, more charming ladies out there. One with more charisma, and a little more grace–”

“But they do not have your humor. Or your wit,” tracing his gloved fingers to the curve of your cheek, Rintaro’s voice lowered as he spoke softly. “Or your beauty.”

The moment your breath hitched, Rintaro learned of a new desire: to learn what other reactions he could pull from you. It made him want to learn of all the most heart-fluttering lines, to memorize poetry and recite them to you, if only it would make you turn away, abashedly, once more.

“You are too kind, my Prince.”

“I am only being truthful,” he smirked, “And I have always been a lover of all that is beautiful.”

As the evening wore on and Rintaro spent more time with you, your innocent charm and unguarded nature became increasingly apparent. He felt a calculated determination solidify within him. You were the perfect person to be his Princess – not because his heart yearned for you, that was impossible. He had Iris already. Rather, your genuine demeanor and lack of guilde made you an ideal figure to shape and influence, a malleable partner who would submit to his will and fortify with his position without the complications of a more independent, fiery spirit.

You were simple, quiet, and boring. And the plan was simple enough: win your heart, marry you, become King, and cast you aside once he could finally be with the one he loved. Rintaro knew with absolute certainity when that time came, you would be too deeply in love with him. And when one was in love, one would forgive.

+

“You came.”

“It would be considered treason if I didn’t.”

Ah, yes. You and your quick remarks. It was one of the many things he liked about you. Smiling to himself, he pulled you deeper into the gardens. “Come. Follow me.”

It had been exactly three days since Tobio’s debut ball, three days since he’d laid his eyes on you. Rintaro wasted no time formulating his plan and putting it into action. He immediately called on you, made a formal visit to the Yuzuru Estate, and finished reading The Art of War if only to impress your father. That night he found out your father was also the Kingdom’s general, Rintaro hesitated. You seemed too important a figure to depose when the time came. But the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense.

He would be the future King, and the General was loyal to the crown and whoever sat in it. He would simply do his best to win your parents’ favor – which wasn’t all that hard. As soon as he arrived, your mother was swooning, and Rintaro knew he’d already won.

Today marked the first of your many dates. In a year or two, he would finally marry you.

Walking through the gardens with your hands shyly brushing against each other, Rintaro struggled to contain his emotions. It was his first time wooing a lady, much less be with someone who he’d never known before. Things were different with Iris; she approached him first. But with you… Rintaro felt that he had to be careful. Precise. Perfect.

He’d stayed up all night searching up on good date spots before deciding to invite you to the Palace. He didn’t think a public appearance for a first date would be good. Sure, he liked you, but things could still go wrong. But here in the privacy of his home, it felt more natural to act like he was this charming, effortlessly smooth Prince he wanted to present himself as.

Thankfully, the day was beautiful.

The morning sun bathed the palace gardens in a soft, golden glow, casting delicate shadows among the vibrant flowers and lush greenery. As you strolled through the grounds, he spotted you standing by a rose bush, your face turned towards the sky, basking in the gentle warmth of the new day.

For the first time, he saw you clearly in the daylight, and the sight took his breath away.

Your beauty, which had been understated under the dim ballroom lights, now seemed to radiate with an ethereal quality. The sunlight danced on your hair, highlighting its hues, and your skin glowed with a natural luminescence. The simplicity if your attire, a pale yellow dress, unadorned by the elaborate jewels of the previous evening, only served to enhance your natural beauty.

Your eyes, bright and clear, reflected the sky’s azure, and your lips curved into a serene smile as you inhaled the fragrant air.

Unknowingly, his mouth opened before he could think twice about it. “I thought you were beautiful in the moonlight, but seeing you for the first time in daylight… you are nothing short of bewitching.”

The smile on your face faltered, your fingers nervously twisting the fabric of your dress.

“Your Highness, if I may be so bold–” you sucked in a breath, grimacing, “–why are you interested in me?”

Rintaro blinked back in confusion. He was the Crown Prince. He was wealthy, handsome, and powerful. Shouldn’t any woman he showed interest in look delighted? Why did you look baffled instead?

Scratching his ear, his brow furrowed. “Do I have any reason not to be? I enjoyed my dance with you, and so did our conversations. You are… different from everyone I’ve met. I found myself unable to stop thinking of you ever since I held your hand in mine,” he said, surprising himself that he actually meant what he said. “When I formally called to your parents to court you, they welcomed me like I was their own son. I knew immediately I wanted to give their daughter the whole world and nothing less.”

Your pretty face pulled into a frown. “But you do not know me yet.”

He gestured to the gardens around you. “That is what we are here for – to get to know each other.”

“And if you do not like what you learn?”

Ah. So that’s what you were worried about?

He wanted to call you out for being silly; he would never choose someone he did not think was good enough for him. Love or not, he needed a woman he wouldn’t be ashamed to marry. However, he kept that sentiment to himself, because he, too, was curious on who you were beyond the surface.

“Test me, my Lady. You’ll find I might like you more than you’ll know,” he insisted, carefully picking out a rose and picking out the thorns. Your eyes widened in panic, but he merely brushed you off with a reassuring smile. Once the rose was picked free of its thorns, Rintaro offered it to you. “So tell me. What exactly can I do to win your heart?”

You giggled, twirling the rose between your fingers. “I believe you could win anyone’s heart. You’re a Prince, after all.”

“I do not want to steal anyone’s heart. I only want yours,” he smirked, basking in the way you hid your flustered face behind the rose. He couldn’t understand this sensation – like a flower blooming in season, his heart slowly unfurling as he leant down to your level, using his fingers to delicately pry the flower. It truly is a shame; you didn’t need to hide your lovely face so much.

“Are you saying if I were not a Prince, I would not even be worth your time?”

You huffed, turning away from him. Behind you, you could hear Rintaro laugh, the both of you knowing you were determined to not let the Prince read you like an open book. “I think… even if you were a Prince, I would appreciate it if a man took his time to get to know me.”

“I see,” he says, unfazed by the challenge. “It’s a good thing I have all the time in the world – there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing than know you, my Lady.”

The palace gardens lay before you, a hidden paradise veiled in the delicate glow of twilight. He gently guided you along the cobblestone path, his heart pounding in anticipation. This was your first date, and he listened to every word that escaped your lips. Everything you wished for was going to be his bible now, his guide into winning your heart. Not a word spoken by you was left unheard, and Rintaro already had your heart mapped out inside his head.

As you walked, the gardens seemed to come alive. Each flower and leaf whispering secrets of the past. The air was heavy with the fragrance of blooming roses, their velvety petals a riot of colors against the lush greenery. And when you walked past him, he vaguely realized the scent was emanating from you, too.

Rintaro stopped by a secluded alcove, where an array of moonflowers and lillies bathed in the sinking glow of the sun. He turned to you, his eyes reflecting the gentle light.

Reaching out, he gently took your hand and led you closer to a cluster of white lilies, their pure, delicate blooms standing tall and proud. “You remind me of these lilies,” he continued, his voice low and sincere. “Graceful, elegant, and timeless. They possess a quiet strength, a beauty that captivates and endures.”

You looked at the lilies, then back at him. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” you whispered, voice tinged with awe.

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles. “Nor have I, until I saw you. Just as these lilies thrive here in this garden, I hope you’ll find your place in my life, bringing beauty and grace to every moment we share.”

Your nervous giggle echoed through the alcove. “That’s a little fast, isn’t it, Your Highness?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “My apologies. You couldn’t blame me for getting excited,” at his words, you both shared an easygoing laugh.

Soon, he fell into step beside you, enamored by the way you fit so perfectly beside him like this – with him standing tall in his boots, and your steps falling in sync with your dainty heels that peeked out often from your dress.

“What would your dream life look like?”

“Dream life?” you hummed to yourself, your hands joined d behind your back. “I guess… I’d want to live by the sea – with a nice, beautiful house. I want it big enough that I feel like I could walk there forever and not get tired, where there’s a sunroof and plenty of glasses so it looks like I’m being bathed by sunlight each time. That sounds perfect, does it not?”

“It does,” he could picture it already, this house of yours. It’s only the first date, and Rintaro was already eager to go out and find this house you dreamt of. And if it did not exist, then he would have to build it with his own hands. “Does this dream life include being with a loved one?”

You snuck a shy glance at him. “Well, of course, but it never crossed my mind I might get married for love someday.”

“Let the world surprise you, my Lady.”

The two of you stood there, surrounded by the fragrant blossoms and the gentle glow of dusk, the world narrowing to just the two of them. Thought not yet in love – and he could never be – Rintaro savored every moment spend in your company, enjoying your conversations and the shared laughter that echoed under the orange sky. In your presence, he felt a rare ease, a comforting companionship that hinted at deeper – more intimate possibilities – yet unexplored.

And when you gazed up at him, with your head tilted down and peeking up only from your lashes, your smile shy and reserved, Rintaro knew he had to see you again. Soonest, at best.

“May I call on you again?”

You dipped into a curtsy. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“A call you would heed, I’m hoping?”

Biting your lip, you nodded. “I’ll be there. You know I could never refuse a Prince.”

+

A week later after your first date, Rintaro realized – much to his dismay – that he does not have any pictures of you. With flaming cheeks, and a hand to cover his face, he quickly typed your name on the Internet. There aren’t much results, as he expected. But there was one article, dated six months ago when you were sighted travelling with your mother in Greece. You’re in a flowy, white sundress, waving shyly at the cameras. There’s a hibiscus tucked at your ear, the flower the exact same shade as your lipstick.

Rintaro’s arm draped over his head.

“What am I doing…” he muttered to himself, and with one eye peeking at his phone, he saves your photo and sets it as his phone wallpaper.

+

It’s around your eleventh date when he decided that he wanted to take you out personally, sans the security team and the cameras following around. It wasn’t anything extravagant; just a simple, romantic dinner at your favorite restaurant. It went like any other date – peaceful, enjoyable, memorable.

The night wasn’t any different than the others. At least not until he’d dropped you off at the Yuzuru Estate. You’d been so beautiful that night in your dress, the fabric cascading like silk spun from dreams. You’d always been like that – dreamy, a tad too good to be true.

Driving you home along winding lanes dappled with moonbeams, Rintaro sensed the weight of the moment poised delicately between them. Halting at your place, he stopped you before you could move. He was a gentleman, he should open the doors for you, but his touch felt different. He felt different. His gaze traced the contours of your face, where the shadows danced upon it. In that suspended breath, in the silence of his car where he could hear the rapid beating of both your hearts – and he thanked the Gods he wasn’t the only one nervous – Rintaro leaned in.

The first touch of your lips set his nerves on fire. Like fireworks exploding within him, his stomach tumbleweeding and crashing, like being sucked into a black hole and drowning in non-existence.

It isn’t his first kiss – that was Iris. But it might as well be his first kiss, with the way he’s immediately hungering for more. To kiss you harder, press against you with more ferocity than he ever thought he was capable of, and to pull you onto his lap because you simply weren’t close enough. No, he wanted you to take up every space and inch of his life. To breathe in the same air you did, to exist under the same stars and moon. You could consume him and he would thank you for it.

Was this how first kisses felt like? If it was, then he would willingly sacrifice one of his idiot brothers in the hopes you felt the same. That he’d made your first kiss a good and memorable experience, instead of feeling like it’d been stolen just like Iris did.

All too quickly, the moment ends. The need for air makes you both pull apart, eyes wide and breathing heavily. The kiss is short but sweet, one that Rintaro would stay up all night thinking about over and over again. He almost regretted it, how it was over sooner than he’d liked – until you leaned in and kissed his cheek, mumbling a quick “thank you for dinner!” before running out the car, and disappearing behind the gates.

Rintaro fell back into his seat. Any other time, he would’ve felt upset you didn’t let him escort you back the house. He’d let it slide for tonight – only because you were embarrassed, and that sneaky cheek kiss was enough to appease him.

He doesn’t pull out from the driveway until you were waving at him from your bedroom window. Windows rolled down, he waved back, and headed back for the Palace.

The entire ride back, Rintaro had his thumb swiping over his lips every so often.

Your lip gloss still lingers, and he can’t help but wish you’d been his first kiss instead.

Tonight, Rintaro whispered to himself, tonight he would tell you everything.

On the secluded stretch of sand where the ocean collided, Rintaro had meticulously laid out a tableau of romance beneath a canopy of stars. Each detail spoke of his adoration: a gossamer canopy adorned with twinkling lights gently swayed in the sea breeze, casting a warm glow over the fine linens and flickering candles. Seashells adorned the table, their iridescent surfaces reflecting the moon’s gentle caress.

A carafe of chilled wine stood ready, its glass catching the shimmering light of the evening tide. Nearby, a small fire crackled, casting a warm, inviting glow amidst the cool embrace of the night.

As Rintaro amidst the romantic dinner he’d prepared, a nervous anticipation fluttered in his chest.

Tonight, amidst the symphony of the waves and the whisper of palm fronds, he would finally reveal the depth of his heart. It would be more than a confession – it was also the right time to ask for your forgiveness. Until now, he still couldn’t believe you chose to be by his side after everything he did. How you chose to protect him, and risked meeting men alone, all to save his reputation. He’d hurt you, over and over, and you’d chosen to stay loyal, over and over. He had to make sure tonight was perfect.

He’d been so desperate he turned to his brothers for help: Osamu prepared the meals, Tobio went out to buy a bouquet of flowers, and Kiyoomi helped him decorating the table. Kiyoomi seemed hesitant at first, scowling down at him when he knocked down his brother’s door. Rintaro couldn’t blame him – he’d been an awful husband to you, no excuses. But he could be better. He would be better. And after seeing his sincerity, Kiyoomi eventually stopped grumbling and helped him.

“Don’t mess this up. This might be your last chance,” he’d warned Rintaro, and he couldn’t agree more. “And for the record, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for her.”

When Rintaro woke up that morning and you weren’t beside him anymore, he felt true fear for the first time. He felt like he was brought back to that time you’d gone for Itachiyama, and left him behind. That bone-chilling fear of seeing your side of the bed empty was enough to wake him up.

He couldn’t restart over from zero, but he could try. He would go down on his knees to beg for forgiveness if he had to. He’d do anything – absolutely anything – just to win your heart once more. He’d done it before, he could do it again. Only this time, he promised to keep your heart safe. Rintaro didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

But before he could confess to you, he had to get this over with first.

With the sun dipping low on the horizon, the sky painted in hues of melancholy gold and crimson, Rintaro made his way silently toward the beach. The gentle lapping of the waves provided a solemn rhythm to his steps, each footfall heavy with the weight of his purpose. There, amidst the soft, shining sands, he spotted Iris, her figure a silhouette he’d immediately recognize against the backdrop of the fading day. She sat with her shoulders slumped, her gaze distant and eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The air around them hung heavy with the unspoken knowledge of what was to come.

In the quietude of the moment, Rintaro approached with a heavy heart, knowing that their time together would soon unravel like the receding tide.

“Hey,” he mumbled, crossing his legs as he filled in the space next to her. Beside him, Iris rested her cheeks on her arms, her knees drawn together. Rintaro sucked in a breath. Iris looked… miserable. Her skin was dull, and dry. If he’d seen this side of her months ago, he would’ve reached over and wiped the tracks of dried tears on her face. Pulled her into his arms as he consoled her, and maybe even joked he’d beat up whoever made her cry.

But he couldn’t do that now. He didn’t want to, either.

Looking at Iris felt like looking at a stranger. Rintaro had loved her for a long time – ever since he was eighteen. Now, eight years later, and she still held a portion of his heart. Not romantically, but he’d known her forever. She’d been his first kiss, his first love, his first time, his first everything’s. She was the one who’d taught him how to handle his alcohol, the one who told him it was okay to not be so perfect, and when the time came – the one who’d been the reason Rintaro found you.

He couldn’t hate her, not really. Iris wasn’t a bad person; she was just misunderstood. She was lonely, desperate, and didn’t have a place to call home. She had nothing at all before she was suddenly thrown into a loveless marriage with a man who couldn’t stand her. And how could he hate her? He was just to blame as she was.

He was just as lonely as she was.

“Hey,” she greeted back, her voice cracked and broken.

“Are you alright?” he couldn’t help but ask, bumping his shoulder with hers. The contact didn’t set his skin on fire anymore, and Rintaro pursed his lips as he recalled it all – the times he’d obsessed over her, only for it to disappear. Like it never existed in the first place. In the back of his mind, fear loomed over him again – because what if that happened to you, too? What if, one day, you looked him in the eye and couldn’t recognize him anymore? What if one day, all the love you had for him vanished into thin air, too?

“I’m okay,” Iris said, even if they both knew she didn’t mean it.

“Kiyoomi told me you barely left your room.”

She chuckled, the sound mocking and muffled as she buried her head in her arms. “Pardon me if I didn’t want to join your play pretend of house. My entire stay here has been awful. You’re all acting like… like everything is okay.”

Rintaro sighed, “Listen, Iris… I know what we had was complicated. You’re married, and I was young and foolish. We did things we weren’t supposed to do – things we cannot take back,” he admitted, finally braving to reach over and cup her knee. Iris didn’t react, didn’t move or pull away. She remained frozen where she sat, save for the slight shake of her shoulders. Rintaro’s heart ached. “What we had was special, and I cherished it, cherished you, but I think we should finally end things.”

“You’re breaking up with me.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. One Rintaro couldn’t deny.

“Yes.”

Iris lifted her head, her face tear-stained as she laughed. “You should’ve done that a long time ago, if you weren’t so damn stubborn.”

Despite himself, Rintaro’s lips pulled into a bitter smile. “That would be my fault. I thought I was in love with you.”

“Are you not?”

“I don’t know,” he said, even though his heart was screaming no, no I don’t. “I always thought it was going to be you. You were the only one who I ever wanted this much, and when I found out you married my brother, I thought my world was going to end. That I was put on this Earth just to suffer and watch you fall for someone else when that should’ve been me. But then she came, and – and marriage is not so bad. If it’s going to be like this every day, I would gladly endure the troubles of the throne. I can do anything as long as she’s by my side,” the words are spilling out of his mouth, his heart, before he could stop himself. Rintaro clutched at his chest, watching the way his wedding ring glinted with the sunset. “I’m not sure if it’s love, but I do know I can’t watch someone I care about slip through my fingers again. I lost you already; I can’t lose her, too.”

“You’re giving up on becoming King? Just like that?”

“Not entirely. The throne is my birthright,” he reminded her, hating the way she always seemed to doubt him even in their end. But he was tired, so tired, that he no longer argued. “I just want to enjoy my marriage, Iris. And I think that’s something you’ve always wanted too.”

“So that’s it. We’re over.”

“We are.”

“Good,” she sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her palm. The relief on her voice was palpable, and Rintaro lifted his head to look at her – watching the way her face broke out into a giddy smile. “Because I never wanted to be with someone like you in the first place.”

“Someone like me? What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you know, Rin?” she turned to him, her smile cruel, and her eyes so cold it brought a chill down his spine. But nothing could compare to the dread he felt when he heard her next words, and that’s when he knew – his life would never be the same ever again.

The morning unfolded with a gentle whisper of anticipation when you returned to your room, a cryptic note left behind by Rintaro. It bore a simple request: “Dress up for tonight. Meet me at the beach.”

You loathed the way your heart fluttered with a blend of nervous excitement and curiosity. You loathed yourself even more for what you let happen last night – with him making love to you, and worshipping your body before you’d fallen asleep in his arms. It was slowly becoming torture. You didn’t know how to act anymore, how to keep up this act. How could you have been so foolish – believing that he could buy you a house and ignore his girlfriend, and suddenly that made everything okay? Because it didn’t. It didn’t change the fact that he loved her first, he loved her long enough that he’d gotten her pregnant.

It hurt even more the longer you pondered about it – did he know the entire time? Was that why he’d suddenly become sweet? The longer you thought about it, the more you felt sick to your stomach whenever you entertained the possibility that maybe he didn’t know.

Maybe he’d just truly had a change of heart.

Maybe he’d finally fallen in love with you.

But if that was real, all would change once he found out he was going to become a father. Iris couldn’t get rid of the baby – it was a royal child, unborn or not. She must’ve known that, too, otherwise she wouldn’t be so desperate. And what would happen next? You could lose Rintaro and Kiyoomi all at once.

You crept out of your husband’s arms the moment you came to. He was still fast asleep, looking so at peace and unaware that it felt wrong to leave. But it felt even more wrong to stay, so quickly exited the room and started early. Breakfast was served, the other Princes started playing again, until you couldn’t handle it anymore – pretending everything was fine, pretending like you couldn’t notice Rintaro’s longing stares at you from the other side of the room. You avoided him under the guise of tending to your guests, and it wasn’t long enough before he’s kissing your cheek, and went upstairs to disappear.

That was when you saw his note.

Now, you stood before an array of delicate fabrics and jewels. Choosing with care, you draped yourself in a gown of celestial blue, its silk like a cascade of moonlit waves against your skin. Jewels, glinting like captured stars, adorned your neck and wrists, adding a subtle sparkle to your reflection in the mirror.

As evening descended, you made your way down the beach, the scent of night-blooming flowers mingling with the soft rustle of your gown. There, your eyes caught sight of candles lit in the distance, a scatter of petals around a table and two chairs. The glow of lanterns and the shimmer of a thousand stars above awaited you like a secret garden of enchantment. There, beneath the velvet sky, you stood in quiet expectation, your heart racing with the promise of an eventful evening.

The dinner set up, adorned with its evening charms, you awaited Rintaro’s arrival with a patient grace. You stood there, rubbing your hands down your bare arms with growing unease as the minutes stretched into an eternity.

Each passing second seemed to amplify the rustling of the wind, heightening your senses to every distant footfall and murmur of the night. Your fingers, intertwined nervously, betrayed the inner turmoil mirrored in your furrowed brow and the anxious flutter of your heart. Time itself became an adversary, teasing you with its slow passage as uncertainty wrapped around you like a shroud.

The breeze picked up, whispering the unspoken question – where was he?

With each unanswered moment, your apprehension deepened, casting shadows upon the once-hopeful tableau of your rendezvous. When he finally appeared, a chill seemed to settle over the air despite the warmth of the evening.

Rintaro’s handsome features, usually a portrait of princely composure, were now etched with lines of sorrow and eyes that spoke of turmoil within. In his trembling hand, he held a bouquet of deep red roses, their velvety petals trembling as if mirroring his own unsteady emotions. Every movement he made seemed to carry the weight of a world crashing down upon him. The carefully chosen attire that once adorned him with regal splendor now draped over a figure that seemed to struggle beneath its weight.

As he approached, your eyes locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes – of secrets unsaid, of a heart breaking under the strain of unspoken burdens. The bouquet he offered, usually a gesture of affection, now felt like a peace offering. A plea for understanding amidst the raging sea of emotions crashing against the shore of your fragile marriage.

The question hung at the tip of your tongue. Do you know? you wanted to ask, your fingers trembling and your eyes welling up with tears when Rintaro pointedly avoided your gaze.

“Rin,” you pleaded, closing the distance between you two as you stepped closer to him. Please, say something. Tell me, do you know? Did she tell you?

The questions die at the back of your throat as Rintaro closes his eyes, leaning forward and kissing your cheek. Your husband had never felt so far away than he did in that moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, and pulled away. His words were loud and clear, yet his gaze was distant – like you weren’t even there in front of him. “This was a mistake. We should get divorced.”

[allophonicmess]

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

Act 3

Warnings: spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine

This is a fluff chapter. Gotta give you guys some candy after all that angst

Word count 4.1 K

Life resumed as normal after that. Or as normal as it could be when you are suddenly placed in the new timeline. Logan kept getting confused by little details that were different to the life he had lived before. Professor X ? Sure he exists but he had hair. Cyclops? Oh yeah. He was just as annoying as he remembered. Who are the fucking Avengers and what sort of rich nerd was Tony Stark? And what about Jean?

“A hot red head with the telekinetic powers?” Wade hummed, pretending to be lost in thought. “Uh, no. UNLESS! Charles used to have a beautiful flowing mane that I don’t know about. He is turning grey, you know… but it suits him. Silver fox”              

So Jean was out of the picture. That was good, right?

Logan groaned at Wade's bad joke. He shifted his focus outside, watching the landscape change from looming tall skyscrapers to even fields and trees that started changing colour with the season. It reminded him of home.

“Just to get this straight.” Logan shifted in his seat. The car that Wade had bought from the dealership had been heavily discounted and Logan now understood why. You would think it can’t get worse than the Odyssey? Oh boy, were you wrong. It was too small for 4 people, let alone 2 mutant men. He already felt sorry for whoever might have to sit in the back for whatever reason.

“Y/N has powers?” Logan asked, trying to play it cool. The whole drive had been a big Q&A.

“Yup,” Wade said with a pop. One hand on the steering wheel and the rest of him laid back in his seat.

“They call her Osmium, too?” Logan didn’t like this dependency on the wanna-be hero. But he had to make a good first impression.

“Osmimimum? Uh no. She is called Atom” Wade laughed “Don’t if she actually does stuff with atoms… It's more like…” Wade groaned as he tried to think of an example.

“She manipulates density.” Logan pointed out. They had trained together many times. But Y/n was never allowed to use her full potential with the X-men. They condemned violence and so she was often left out on mission and focused on keeping the school running.

“Ugh- I guess? She once told me in great, boring detail why ‘Atom’ is a bad superhero name for her but they kept it for the marketability. “ He shrugged “Oh! I remember that one time we stopped a child-mutant trafficking and she got mad, like REAL MAD, and then she turned this one guy into goop.” Wade nodded fondly, thinking back at that moment. “And I mean like Nickelodeon kids choice award goop, like slurpable slushy goo, like-“

“Okay, alright! I get it.” Logan groaned in annoyance. Shaking his head at Wade. He was thankful for the man’s support and friendship but god was he annoying. Constantly.

“I wish she would do that to me sometime. It’s on my ways-to-die bingo. But she keeps refusing!” Deadpool hit the wheel dramatically.

“You are disgusting,” Logan stated dryly. “The most disgusting person I ever met.”

“Don’t forget the most annoying!”

...

The decision to go back to teaching was not made out of fun or for the joy of doing it. Maybe partially, even though Logan would not openly confess so. It was made out of necessity. Living with Wade and Al became tiresome after the first few weeks. It was always the same antiques, the lack of schedule as well as a constant state of chaos that made him crave the ordered life at the school once again. He hoped that it would give him a sense of belonging. The X-men might be different here, with a few quips and details that didn’t match with his reality. But living at the school would tie him to a strict schedule and by god, he needed some structure in his life.

 But all in all, it meant home.

“Okay, peanut. Today is a big day. But I know you’ll do great and meet a lot of new friends.” Wade joked in a motherly tone as they arrived at the Mansion. “And no hair pulling or biting unless they ask for it, okay?”

“I can’t wait to be rid of you” Logan groaned as the car came to a halt. He exited the car with a low groan, stretching to lose stiffed muscles. Not having to constantly ride in Wade's joke of a car was another reason that he preferred living at Xavier’s Institution. Speaking off:

“There you are. Welcome, welcome.” Xavier rolled into the mansions yard.

“A pleasure to have you, Logan. I must say, I was very pleasantly surprised when I received your response to my inquiry.” He moved towards Logan, offering his hand for a handshake.

Logan inspected the man. He was older, in his 40s maybe. But younger than the Charles Xavier he had worked with. He sported shaggy longer hair that was starting to thin out. Soon he would need to get it trimmed to keep his professional exterior. Along with a beard that was rather spotty and seemed too reminisce of his look in the 70s. Xavier looked like a mix of the two versions that Logan got to meet during his time at the school and it made him wonder how time worked here. Events seemed to play out in different order, they didn’t happen at all or much later than seemed correct.

He shook Xavier’s hand, thanking him for the offer. “Of course. I was surprised when you contacted me.” Logan confessed. His gaze shifted towards the grand building in front of him. It was the same old English style build that he knew, with a few modern elements added here and there.

“Is it familiar to you? The school? I assume you have experienced quite a few dejá-vus since arriving here.” Charles observed Logan.

“I do. Some things are the same. Others don’t match what I know or didn’t happen at all.” He confessed. Already feeling the brother connection build, similar to the one he had with the other Charles.

“You will find your answers. I am sure of it.” Charles turned around motioning Logan to follow him inside. “I think it is best if we continue this conversation in my office.” He looked over his shoulder at Wade, who had waited in the car, listening in on the conversation.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be on my way. You call me if you need to get picked up, Pookie!” He waved at Logan in a motherly way.

“You aren’t coming?” He asked, somewhat confused. But then he saw Charle’s face, the intense stare he gave Wade.

“Uhhh, no I technically have a house ban for no apparent reason-“

“You burned down the west wing” Charles answered dryly.

Wade clicked his tongue, “Right, okay. Yeah… But! It’s very modern now.” He chuckled weakly. “You’ll still call me up for a mission, right?” He tried to persuade the professor.

“If the mission takes place outside of my building then yes.” Charles agreed, focusing back on Logan. And leading him inside. Neither of them commented on the cheer that Wade gave as he drove off.

Being back at the school felt surprisingly good to Logan. It was like coming back from a long holiday. Most everything was the same: Students running in the hallways, playing games in the gardens and-

“Fancy seeing you here!”

Logan turned around quickly, looking for whoever addressed him. Some children were buzzing along the halls, none of them too interested in him. Then he spotted her by the stairs. Leaning onto the dark wooden rails of the gallery. The light from the window behind her illuminating her figure.

“Y/n”, he breathed.

“Hi! Charles told me that you wanted to start teaching again.” She made her way downstairs, focus shifting between not falling and keeping her gaze on him. She seemed pleasantly surprised to see him.

He turned more toward her, watching her get closer to ground level. With each step he felt his excitement grow “He contacted me, actually. Asked whether I wanted to work here…”

“Oh really? What a coincidence ”She grinned mischievously, stopping at the end of the stairs and leaning on one of the bannisters. She kept a little space between them. There might be some familiarity between them but she didn’t want to push him too far yet and give him the chance to get closer to her if he felt like it.

But Logan stayed in place: “Do you have anything to do with that?”

She smirked,  and he felt some of his charm return to him . He might be rusty but some things were just engraved in him.

“Maybe” She shrugged, smiling softly with a playful sparkle in her eyes “But I’m assuming that you won’t be teaching history, right?” Y/n teased carefully. The multiverse situation was a thing she wanted to be careful about. Wade had told her a little bit about what had happened to Logan before he transferred but she didn’t know any details.  

“No, I teach PE and defence classes. You do science, right?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, hoping to lose the tension in his body. He threw the tidbit of knowledge into the conversation, hoping that he was right and that the two versions of her had that much in common.

“Chemistry and Literature, yeah.” She smiled. She then looked at her watch before pointing towards another corridor with a sigh “I’d love to talk more, but I need to get to class. Maybe we could meet sometime.” She secured the book in her arms.

“Yes.” He answered with a stiff nod, his hands were getting sweaty.

They stood In awkward silence.

“Maybe over a coffee?” She asked, looking up at him, her lip curled upwards. Her look became more expecting as he watched her in silence.

 He would catch the bait she just threw, right? Scott had laughed when she asked him about what Logan had been like; What this version might be like.

 ‘He’s an asshole’ He said ‘a cocky asshole and who thinks he can charm any girl he likes’ she blushed at that comment ‘But he is into the dark, mysterious type if that is what you are after’

“Maybe”, Logan gave  cold and curtly.

He regretted his demeanor when he saw her smile slip for just a moment.

Fuck.

Her face slipped for a moment “Oh.. okay.” She huffed softly. “See you around then.” Y/n nodded quickly before running off.

...

A routine established itself after the first weeks back at the school. The work there itself was the same. Teach the children standard curricula, training them in controlling their powers and some extracurricular activities.

He would spend some evenings with the other members of Team X ,as they called themselves here. Sometimes he would meet Y/n in the hallway but he didn’t work up the courage to stop and talk to her beyond a quick ‘hello’.

What is wrong with you? You used to sweep women off their feet. She is offering herself to you at any chance and you still can’t manage to ask her out?

He sighed as he changed back into his regular clothes. The class had just ended. It was Friday, still fairly warm for October and the trees looked beautiful in all shades of red, orange and yellow.

 Would be perfect for a romantic walk… A charming, rugged man could ask a woman out for that.

“That guy died a long time ago…” He mumbled to himself. Picking up his bag and closing the locker.

He exited the gym, making his way to his room or rather apartment. Wade managed to burn down the teacher's quarters along with the kitchens and cafeteria in some wicked stunt. No one knew what happened and that was for the best, he guessed.

However, that incident resulted in a modernized reconstruction with more spacious rooms for the teachers and a communal cafeteria that students and members of Team X shared.  Great for extroverts but Logan had to pass it every time he went to his rooms, much to his dismay. To make it worse,  the communal space was separate from the hall via a glass wall, allowing for a perfect view of everyone who tried to sneak past. Which led to uncomfortable situations such as this.

“Logan!” Piotr called, waving his huge metallic arm to get the other man's attention. Logan's initial reaction was to ignore him as he had done many times with the members of his old team.

No, he wanted to do better. He needed to. It was that kind of behavior that made him spiral in the first place. So he took a deep breath and channeled all jolliness available to him after 6 hours of teaching and a generally low level of it to begin with.  He slowly made his way towards the teacher's table.

“Come, eat with us.” Piotr offered him the seat next to him on the thick wooden bench. A seat opposite of… fuck- of fucking course he was in on Wade’s plan to play matchmaker.

 “We can’t have you get scrawny, eh?” he joked.

“Not that that would be likely to occur” Y/n joked as Logan sat down. His look snapped towards her and her eyes widened in shock at what had just come out of her mouth.

A knowing, wicked grin spread across Colossus's face. That fucking asshole…

“What are we having?” Logan asked, ignoring the situation that had just occurred. He tried to keep his gaze on Piotr who was busy filling a plate with whatever was in the big metal pot on the side of the table. His eyes shifted to Y/n every so often.

“Pierogi. I am trying out new recipes for a cooking class with my students” He said proudly, placing the plate in front of Logan “Y/n said, they are very good. Right?” He asked her, putting the woman on the spot.

“Oh, uhm…yeah. I like the new… stuffing.” She said, the answer sounding more like a question, carefully looking at Logan when he tried it. She was thankful for Piotr’s brotherly demeanor and gentle nature. Yet sometimes he would tease her as any older brother liked to do. And they sure liked to do it in front of people that the younger sibling might fancy.

Logan nodded in agreement, complimenting the man for his cooking.

“You cook here regularly?” He asked with a mouthful.

“Of course! Cooking is a very important life skill. As well as baking. You should join one of Y/n’s baking classes, she is very talented.” Colossus complimented the woman, making her grin.

“I plan on holding a workshop on the weekend for older students and alumni. You should come.” She offered, a hopeful look in her eyes. Maybe she was too discrete the last time she tried to get Logan to ask her out. So this time she tried to be more direct with her offer.

“I don’t bake,” Logan answered in a backhanded comment as he continued to eat. He didn’t think too much about it. He had planned to ask her out after lunch. He was overly focused on what he would say to her once the others left to notice how he had sounded.

It only occurred to him when he saw how Y/n visibly deflated. “Oh, right” She hummed, swallowing another bite of her food, eyes looking anywhere but towards the man who had once again rejected her so swiftly.

Piotr, just sighed with disappointment, leaning back in his chair. His hard elbow bumped into Logan’s side.

You fucked it up. Again.

...

“Okay, stop. You mean to tell me that she tried to ask you out not once but TWICE and you rejected her?” Wade paced through the living room. Trying to make sense of what his friend had just told him. “You mean to tell me that you now spend 3 months at that school? Being in her proximity 24/7 and actively avoiding her?”

Logan sat on the familiar black couch that looked even more beaten up than the last time he was at the flat. With disgust, he realized that he didn’t even want to know what caused the new damage.

 “I don’t avoid her”

“Oh no? And yet the few times she does catch you creeping in the halls you manage to scare her off.” Deadpool said down one of the rotatable bar chairs. Swirling dramatically.

“No wonder the girl’s not interested in a sad drunk fuck like you,” Al commented from the table where she sat, carefully packaging her newest acquisition of sellable goods.

“ No, Al that’s the thing! The girl wants him DESPITE being a sad drunk fuck!”  Wade jumped from the chair to pace around some more. He had to come up with a plan to get the two to spend time together, and get to know each other better. Create some closeness to let the sparks fly and catch on.

“That’s even worse.” Al laughed, snoring.

“Thank you for the compliments… Reassuring.” Logan groaned, regretting to even have answered Wade when he asked him about how things were going with Y/n. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be with someone again. He liked her and wanted to get to know her but something was stopping him. The urge to protect her from danger and he still thought of himself as the greatest danger to her and his team.

“On the other hand, she is still interested after being rejected TWICE. So you still have a chance, Pookie.” Wade said, sitting down next to Logan, yet again way too close.

“I’m gonna help you, buddy, Don’t you worry.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing Logan's ears “Act three needs some lovin’ and I make sure you get all the loving you need, baby” He whispered towards Logan. And with dread, and a bit of disgust,  Logan accepted that he had no chance of stopping the man.

...

By the time the midterms rolled around, Logan had gotten familiar with the schedule and his  profession once again. He slept better, tended to snap less at people and even his drinking tendencies seemed to get better. Being part of a community felt good and it made him angry at his younger self for rejecting the people who loved him out of some ill-placed ideology: that to keep them safe, he had to distance himself from them.

And yet you are doing it again.

He sighed as he trotted into the community kitchen. He broke his coffee maker in a fit of frustration last week and hadn’t found the time or energy to tell Charles to get a new one. He stayed out of the professor's way for the most part, not wanting to be roped into some conversation about ‘needing therapy’. So he sourced his caffeine intake from the machine that sat in the big, homely department kitchen. Another benefit was that there was always a fresh pot ready and waiting for him. Downside, there were almost always people in the kitchen, waiting for others to join in for conversation and breakfast.

This morning he should be safe from conversation. Most students and some staff went home for the fall semester break, leaving the school running on a minimal level to accommodate those who had no home to go to. There were no classes, meaning that the school apparatus calmed to a halt.

In practice that meant that almost everyone slept in with no pressure to get up early. And for Logan, that meant that he could enjoy his drink in peace before people tried to talk to him.

Lost in thought he strolled into the kitchen. It seemed empty, thank god. He sighed in relief, stretching languidly. The air exiting his lungs in a low groan.

Then a soft click sounded through the room.

A fridge being closed.

“Oh hey, you’re up early.” Y/n appeared behind the full-size fridge door that had previously shielded her from his view. She looked a little tired, not yet fully awake and a bit tousled from sleep.

Aww C’mon. Maybe Wade was right about the universe wanting them to come together. But primarily to annoy him and allow for Wade to give him the ‘I told you so’ speech.

“So are you.”  He answered, leaving on the door frame and watching her pour some creamer into her cup. Upon closer inspection, she did look younger than her other iteration. Her features were softer looking with fewer wrinkles and scars. He needed to ask her about that at some point.

She leaned onto the counter to reach for another cup, taking it out of the overhead cabinet. Proceeding to pour some coffee in it. “How do you take your coffee?” She asked, turning towards him.

“I’ll take two sugars” He answered, moving towards her with slow even steps. The threat of Wade’s ‘help’ kept looming in the back of his mind, pushing him to be more open towards her and to come out of his shell. Who knows what that maniac had in mind?

Y/n hummed in agreement, dropping in two cubes of sugar and stirring the dark liquid before handing it to Logan.

He thanked her softly, holding the porcelain with his much larger hands. He had moved quite close to her, both leaning against the kitchen counter. The closeness and difference in height between them meant that Y/n had to look up to him, to make eye contact.

With a grin he noticed how she shifted her stand, one hand bunching up the material of her cardigan.

You still got it if you let it happen, man.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying their drinks and watching the sun paint pictures onto the kitchen surfaces, colored by the stained glass windows.

She was the one who broke the silence. “Are you ready for the training session today?” She asked, turning towards him, shifting her position so that her hip was pressed against the counter.

“Training?” He asked confused, setting down his cup to cross his arms over his chest, the muscles shifting visibly under his skin.

That’s right! Show her what you got!

“Yes, staff training? We got the call from Washington about a mutant security threat. Charles wants us to be ready just in case. Do you read your emails?” She teased, watching him over the rim of her mug.

“I don’t know how that stuff works if I’m honest with ya.” He shrugged “Do you go on missions regularly? On Government orders?” He remembered that Xavier had mentioned something along the lines of that. Some complicated struggles between heroes about government regulation and so on.

“Yes, after the blip it was decided that an X-team force should be established to take care of mutant-related threats or endangerments.” She explained.

He had heard of that, too. “Right. What was that blip again?”

The energy in the room shifted suddenly.

Y/n huffed, almost spilling a bit of her drink. “Ha, that’s a bit of a heavy topic for morning coffee talks.” She looked around uncomfortably. Logan seems to have hit upon a heavy subject.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He apologized quickly. Beating himself up for screwing it up once again.

“No, no it’s fine.” She shook her head, setting down her drink to cross her arms as he did. Only that she seemed to do it defensively. “Half of all life stopped existing for five years and… that left a few scars.” She explained somberly, softly nodding to herself.

Logan blinked, his mind moving at high speed to get the conversation on a good topic again. Anything to turn it around and to prevent her from having a bitter aftertaste to their first proper talk.

Yet it was her, once again, that stepped up. She noticed how he got nervous, eyes wandering, shoulders sagging.

“I’ll explain it to you later. When we are not so pressed on time.” She reached out slowly, placing her hand on his arm, squeezing it in reassurance. Y/n smiled at him softly, moving around him to exit the kitchen and prepare for the day ahead.

Without thinking Logan placed a hand over hers, just in time before she pulled hers away. It had her stop in her tracks. Her eyes moved to where his rough callused palm warmed the back of her hand, up to his eyes. He was watching her with intention.

She was nervous. This was either going to be an invitation to finally get to know him or he had enough of her and told her to stop fancying him.

“You can explain it to me on a walk to the lake? Tonight?” He asked, one eyebrow raising in question. His hand squeezed hers gently.

A second of silence followed.

She exhaled, the stress leaving her body but she had to keep her composure. A grin spread across her face “Sounds like a plan.” She held eye contact for a few beats, then let her hand slip out of his hold as she left.

That’s how you do it, Tiger!

Her lips pressed together to keep from smiling too hard as she exited the hallway.

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