#Ed is a bath lover

[localgirlbecomesobsessed]

An evening walk

Cathrine x Ed

Cathrine is beckoned via text to help a vamp in need.

Cathrine slowly integrating the way Ed speaks into her own vocabulary is something very special to me.

Edward Cullen 🧛‍♀️: my love 🥰 please help me 🙏🏻😅 I am in a situation 😭😈🙂‍↕️

Cathrine frowned at the text, sighing as she stubbed out her cigarette. A situation can mean anything for Edward, whether it be causing Towa to start a tornado in the dark forest or simply not being able to get up from a nap or worse… he forgot his password.

Dr.Frankenstein: I’m on my way! Eddie are you at the dorms or…?

She started making her way, throwing on light pink hoody, she had on black corduroy shorts and pink crocs, she had taken all the flowers pops out of it replacing it with hello kitty ones that she stole was given by Leo.

She started making her way to the obscuary dorms, she figured she’d either find him along the way or find him in bed. She got the right idea as a text come through from Ed when she was halfway there, walking through the forest with a sharp eye.

Edward Cullen 🧛: my love ❤️‍🔥I’m in bed 🛌🤤🤭I lay in dire need of help 🤭😬🥹🤦🥰🧍🏼‍♂️🤔

She giggled at the text, the chronically exhausted Ed seemed to always need her help even if it was just to get him a another pillow, sometimes he even asks for a pillow from her place when she has to be away for a couple of days…he really was too cute. 🥰

She made her way into the dorms, Rui was hurriedly cleaning the place as Lyca was peacefully drawing in the shared living room.

“Hey hey hey Catty~Ed’s upstairs I don’t know what’s wrong with him, he won’t even watch one of his YouTube videos…”

Rui frowned as he held a mountain of laundry looking towards Ed’s room, Cathrine joined him as she looked up curiously towards Ed’s room.

“He said he was in dire need of assistance…I’ll see what’s up! Hopefully 🤞 I can cheer our prince of darkness up!”

She cheerfully clapped her hands together as Rui nodded in agreement as she started to clamber up the stairs.

She knocked tentatively on the door, the room was silent…she couldn’t hear the usual abnormally loud conspiracy theory videos blaring through.

“Eddie-“

The door flung open as Edward wrapped his arms around her dragging her to the bed as he flopped back down, nuzzling with need into her neck as he clung to her, Cathrine let out a yelp at the impact.Edward’s bed was the softest thing to ever exist but Edward falling on her with his full weight…not so much.

She raked a hand through his hair as he sighed in relief, still silent as he placed a gentle kiss against her neck. He was practically melting into her as she brought her other hand under his shirt to rub soothing circles on his back, which apparently was the correct thing to do as Edward let out a strangled nose of satisfaction.

“Eddie, what’s wrong my love?”

She cooed at the needy man, who just huffed into her neck, he’s never been this bad before… she had only seen him two days ago and he seemed okayish, more sickly than usual after getting caught in the rain when he collapsed in the forest, Rui and Cathrine searched for hours until they found him asleep under a tree ,deep in the forest and in desperate need of his bed, which he seems to have stayed in for the past couple of days. Cathrine had to leave for the sinostra mission, something both her and Ed desperately didn’t want her to do as she doted over the ill man up until the very last minute she had to leave. She was going to go see Ed later in the evening, presuming he was still asleep in the earlier point of the day as she checked up on Monstera and eclipse and tried to keep Yuri from strangling Ritsu after the chaotic events of the mission.

He grumbled something she couldn’t quite hear as she patiently waited for him to gain the strength to tell her more comprehensively, he sighed as he lifted his head, resting his chin on her collarbone as he looked up at her in adoration with a cute pout on his face.

“My love 🥰😈I want to 🤞😬🙂‍↕️go for a walk with you 🚶🤦🙏🏻👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨”

He grumpily wiggled his body up as he pressed a kiss to her cheek before losing all strength and flopping back down, he started fiddling with her hoody string as she looked down at him softly. Caressing the side of his face as he leaned into her touch, she kissed his forehead before gently pushing him off of her, earning a annoyed whine from the man which was promptly stopped by her straddling him.

“You look like you can barely stand Eddie 🙂‍↕️do you need a drink my love?🥰”

She peppered kisses all over his face as he closed his eyes, hands resting on her waist as he allowed himself to be spoiled, frowning slightly when she stopped as she went to take her hoody off. He grabbed her wrist stopping her as he started rubbing sweetly at her pulse as he brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it as he looked up at her with a conflict of sadness and longing.

“I fear…I take advantage of you too much my love.”

Cathrine sighed as she moved her arm away from his mouth, caressing his cheek once more as she kissed him sweetly on the mouth; then on the nose; his cheeks; his neck, anywhere she had access to as Ed let out a small gasp, feeling her pulse quicken as she looked down at him lovingly pressing one last kiss to his forehead , her hair creating a curtain around the two as it fell around them, privatising this moment from the outside world.

“Eddie, I’d do anything for you, you know that…you could never take advantage of me if I’m willing to give you everything.”

It was rare for Cathrine to speak so candidly about her love for Edward, it was weird meeting someone and knowing in just a glance they’re the one for you, she had never believed in soul mates before…but now it feels like that darn red string was strangling her as it drew her closer to the vampire underneath her.

The vampire who was staring up at her wide eyed as a small smile fought its way to his face, if he could blush he would’ve been as red as her eyes that beamed down in adoration at him. Her pulse was still thrumming in his grasp as he brushed some of her hair behind her ear.

“You shouldn’t be so willing to give everything to a vampire my love, we are greedy creatures. 🤭”

She sighed giggling as she pressed another kiss to his lips.

“It’s not just vampires that are greedy Eddie~”

She mumbled against his lips, it was her own selfish desire that couldn’t stop herself from pursuing him, knowing she’s most likely going to be at deaths door or more likely kyklos door, cursing herself and Edward to a doomed romance. Though, she feels like that’s just the pessimist in her trying to beat down the hope that she might survive this.

Edward flipped them around.

“I will love you as the mad monster you are now and as the mad monster you may become…”

Cathrine flushed, her heart rate going through the roof as Ed chuckled at the feeling, pulling down her sleeve as she fought back her tears as the emotions got way too overwhelming. He pressed endless kisses across her wrist and arm before licking at her pulse, glancing at her with half lidded eyes as she nodded in approval, giving permission as he sunk his teeth into her wrist, drinking feverishly as she allowed herself to fall into the feeling, the pain making her feelings easier to digest as the tears trickled down her face.

He drank till he could feel the strength come back to him, feeling satisfied as he pulled away, Cathrine watched as a string of saliva and blood pulled away from her arm as Edward sighed at the mess, licking until the pain and blood subsided, leaving a flustered Cathrine mesmerised as he pressed another chaste kiss to the bite mark before gently pulling her up, the moment so intimate that she held her breath as he gently rubbed his thumb over the mark pressing little kisses against it until he was satisfied. She giggled as she wrapped her arms around him as a now energised Ed peppered kisses all over her face as he cupped her face gently stroking her cheeks.

“Do you want to go for a walk then Eddie?😈.”

She squeezed him closer to her as he grinned pressing a kiss to her lips before sliding off of her, helping Cathrine up as she went a bit woozy giggling as she clutched onto Ed’s arm, he may of drank too much…

“Let’s get you🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼a snack first 🍪🍬🍭🍫flower🌼🌸🌹🌻🌺🌷, Rui will make you your favourite 🌶️🍉🌯”

Cathrine lit up as Ed guided her downstairs, a surprised Rui cleaning the bannisters as Ed appeared rejuvenated, refreshed and happy as he latched onto a wobbly Cathrine.

“Rui 🥰😈we are in need of spicey 🤭🌶️honeyed halloumi with watermelon wraps🌯🫵🏼for my dear Cathrine🤭🫶🏼”

Rui raised an eyebrow at him as Lyca appeared behind him, eyes sparkling at the mention of food, he had been too locked into drawing that he forgot to make something and Rui had too many chores to do to even make a meal for everyone.

“Isn’t that what Subaru got me from that truck place the other day?”

Lyca cocked his head curiously at Cathrine.

“Yep!!! We can order it from the app, so it’s less work for Rui! It’s only 8, so Sho would still be about or I can call in a fa- hmmm a fav-o-ur.”

She gritted her teeth as she sounded out the word, her stutter coming out strong as tiredness swept her, the food was very much needed and so was the cold can of coke that she can almost taste as she daydreamed about it.

Ed wrapped himself behind Cathrine, pressing his cheek to her shoulder as Rui readily whipped out his phone, ordering food and passing the phone along to Lyca and Cathrine.

“It seems Ed’s already got enough food aye?”

He chuckled as Cathrine went a bright red as Edward hummed happily behind her.

“Oh my 🤭how did you know?😬🤔”

Rui gestured to Cathrine, who was bit paler than usual, struggling to stay upright as she leaned her weight onto Ed, the girl was usually buzzing about like a bee, setting fire to something or taking apart and re fixing different electronics.

“Oi! The Casanova got his hands on Cathrine again?!”

Lyca grumpily fold his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, glaring at Ed as he cheekily popped his head up resting his chin on Cathrine’s shoulder.

“More like she got her-“

Cathrine was laughing as she covered Ed’s mouth with her hands in embarrassment.

“No no, enough of that Eddie.”

Ed pressed a kiss to her hand as Rui raised his eyebrow at the nickname, Cathrine giggled shaking her head until the stomach of steel decided to interrupt the cute moment with a thunderous roar, causing Cathrine to once again blush.

“I’m in des…de..urgh.”

Rui smiled kindly as Lyca frowned at her, Cathrine giving up with talking as the word desperate seemed to destroy her soul.

“The food will be here in,oh shit they’re quick, 15 mins, I did say in the notes that the beast Catty must be fed so they knew how dire the situation was.”

Cathrine cracked up as the others did too as they all started to congregate to the living room. Rui in the armchair as he switched on the tv, Lyca went back to his drawing space as Ed and Cathrine flopped onto the sofa, Ed nuzzling into the crook of her neck as she started showing him memes on her phone.

They waited for the food, Rui torturously put on a cooking game show on as they drooled at the delicious food, time seemed to go slowly until the doorbell rang and a disheveled vagastrom delivery driver handed over the food to Lyca before practically peeling away on his bike as he went to his next delivery.

Cathrine shot up excitedly as the smell wafted over to her as she grabbed the bags and hurried to the kitchen and started setting up the plates, grabbing hers as she went to sit at the dining table, Ed following her like a lost puppy as he went to hold her plate for her, she laughed at his ridiculousness.

“I can carry that king 🤴 “

Ed shook his head as he delicately placed the plate onto the table, pulling out her chair for her as she giggled blushing as she slid in the chair. Ed sat in the chair next to her and gazed at her in awe as the other two come to join them, the vision of Cathrine shoving nearly half a wrap into her gob with spicey honey sauce dripping down her finger as Ed watched with heart eyes was definitely a sight to see.

Rui had got chicken over rice, Lyca got the same as Cathrine, the two ate ravenously as Rui watched them in shock and disgust, more so in shock at Cathrine than Lyca.

She devoured it in mere moments as she downed the coke and sighed in happiness and relief as Ed grabbed a napkin and wiped at her face.

“You are adorable 🥰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🫵🏼my love 🤭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨😈”

She went a bright red as she realised she allowed her beast mode to appear in front of them, Lyca didn’t seem to mind but from the way Rui was cracking up and looking at his phone he definitely captured it.

He turned his phone showing Cathrine the image of her demolishing the wrap, the image was already sent to Ed as he struggled to set it as his Lock Screen, giving up as he handed the phone to Rui for help. Her pink hair was messy, sticking to her cheek as sauce dripped down her mouth as she opened her mouth wide to devour the wrap, her eyes just as wide and sparkling as she enjoyed her meal.

Rui set it for him laughing at his ridiculous choice as he slid the phone across the table.

They all sat around the table chatting to eachother, Ed checked the time as he tapped Cathrine on the shoulder grinning.

“My love🥰🤭🌺can we go for a walk 🚶‍♀️there is a spectacular star alignment tonight 🌟 💫 ⭐️ “

Oh! That must be why he wanted to go so badly…he was so perky now, he held his hand out to her and she gratefully took it, waving a goodbye to Rui and Lyca as Ed dragged her out.

———————————————————

It was the tree they previously found Ed under, it took them an hour to get there, both getting distracted as they went. Looking at different plants and specimens, Cathrine even taking some that could help with her experiments or just to have to preserve, she was going to make her and Ed a bookmark out of the lady orchids that they found behind a dead tree.

She snuggled into Ed, who pulled her onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head as the stars sparkled down on them, he told her stories, myths he’s heard through his many years of living about the different stars and their meanings…they sat there for hours.

She told him her own stories, ones she learned from her home country, the science behind stars and the strange things they did, that almost spun Ed’s brain as he eagerly listened taking in anything Cathrine said.

Cathrine didn’t want the night to end, but like all beautiful things���it must.

They dragged themselves back to the obscuary dorms, Ed never letting go of her hand as they reached his room, she went to get her spare clothes as she pattered into the bathroom, to have a quick wash and change.

Ed knocked on the door grinning to himself.

“My love 😍 would you like to bathe together 😈😈”

Cathrine paused on putting her oversized t shirt on, she threw it onto the antique chair already reaching down to turn the taps on. The bath was built into the floor, it was huge and more like a mini roman bath than a bath tub. He even had candles situated all around them, a crazy amount of bubble baths and bath bombs organised on a row of shelves at the back, she’ll let Ed chose the bath bomb as she tested the water temp with her toe, it was perfect…by perfect she means absolutely skin boiling hot.

“Yes 😈 Eddie I’ve got it running already.”

[genderless-naper]

muddy problems

trafalgar law x gf!reader

warnings: fluffy law

sfw, wc: 1k, lowercase intended !

helping your tired law through shower time

law walks through the halls of the polar tang tirelessly. he didn’t expect the most recent encounter with another pirate ship to be such a headache to handle. the captain of the opposing crew was was a devil fruit user: the user of the mud-mud fruit.

needless to say, it was hard for anyone to contain their laughter when law walked passed looking like he just got out of a mud bath. he wouldn’t usually be this forgiving, but he was simply too tired to deal with them. he kicked off his shoes before entering his room.

he saw you laying in his bed reading a book without a care in the world. his gaze softened slightly while drawing a loud breath to release some tension. you looked up at the raven-haired man.

you stared. he stared back.

you hold a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. it took every fiber in your body to restrain yourself from rolling on the floor in laughter.

you cleared your throat to greet him, “who knew the tough trafalgar law would fall victim to a mud bath in the middle of a fight?”

law doesnt reply to your statement. instead he focuses on discarding ed his current wear to avoid getting the place more dirty. he had bigger problems to worry about than some rhetoric questions. he needed to get clean fast. the mud on him started to make him feel suffocated.

he looks for a clean pair of clothes to wear for post shower. you close your book and put it on the bedside table so you can follow him. still fighting back laughs you continue to ask, “how many shampoo rinses do you think it takes for that mess to get out your hair?”

law sighs in his tired state and mumbles, “hopefully no more than 3”

you cant help but let a laugh escape, “just 3?? don’t you think you’re being s bit too generous captain? i was thinking at least 5!”

he groans quietly. it was clear the doctor was more exhausted than he would like to admit. you felt bad for your poor lover. as much as you would like to pick on him and his unusual circumstances you knew that wasn’t what law needed right now. he needed your support.

you ran to the bathroom to get his shower started for him. you made sure the temperature was just how he liked it. he followed momentarily; throwing his clean clothes on the shelf of the bathroom as a yawn escapes his lips.

he continues to discard the remainder of his mud soaked clothes while carefully placing them in a bag. he checked the temperature before getting in. another sigh escaping his lips. you smiled contently watching the way the water rolls off his skin, his muscles stretching with every moment, and how his lips part perfectly.

his rinses his hair with shampoo over and over. each wash just made him feel like the mud would never get out. after a few more moments he gives up. he decided to sit for a moment and let the water hit his strained body as he rubs his tired eyes.

you sympathize with you poor boyfriend. you turn the water off and rub his tense shoulders, “maybe i should help you baby? you see like you’ve had a long day”

law, being too prideful to accept your help, shook his head and responded lowly, “i just need a second..”

you hum, “you take a second and ill work on getting this mud out your hair.” you lathered the soup onto your palms and massaged it into the raven colored hair. you were on your knees to match his height as he sat. you massaged his scalp in order to clean every strand.

law’s senses of alertness slowly slipped away. he closed his eyes, and tried his best to keep his head up straight. after swaying from side to side you decided its best to rest his head on your chest as you worked through his hair. he created a soapy mess on your shirt. the man was too engulf in his own drowsiness to notice. you hum a sweet tune into his ear and watched as most his tense muscles relaxed with your touch.

he would never let anyone close like he has with you. sometimes he feels stupid to let his barriers come down for you, and feeling too afraid that something bad will happen to you as well. as much as law protests against himself he still finds himself sharing cherished intimate moments with you.

you guide the heavy-lidded man through the rest of his shower while reciting words of encouragement. getting your shirt wet in the process was a small price to pay to help your lover. once the shower concluded you turn it off and hand him his towel.

the tattooed man dries himself with it slowly. he slightly furrows his brows and points to your shirt, “why are you all wet?” completely oblivious to the consequences of his actions. you shook your head and giggled, “no specific reason baby”

he gave you an apologetic look after realizing he was the reason for your current soaked state. you quickly disregarded with lines of ‘it’s okay’s and ‘don’t worry’s. you gave him his clothes once he’s ready.

he grabs your arms and holds them up to pull your drenched shirt off. he wore his clean shirt on you, “i dont want you to get sick y/n, especially if its because of me.” you were going to protest against, but after seeing the look of anxiousness taking ahold of him you decided its best to accept his acts of kindness.

he always does everything in his power to make sure you are well; afraid to live in a world where he has to grieve you along with other which were once present in his life. it shows very much during moments like these. you place a few kisses on his lips feeling luckier than a lottery winner. you helped your tired boy navigate through the rest of his routine before he fell into bed. he lifted the cover up to make sure you followed in his steps. the mud-soaked version of himself from earlier that day became a part of the past. he enjoyed what he had at that very moment, and that was your beautiful self with a smile that lights your face. it was truly able to cure any disease of his heart. that night law had no trouble falling into an imaginative dream where you two lived together without a care in the world

[wannaeatramyeon]

DG x Reader: Manager and their Idol

8.5k. G/N. Soft, colleagues to lover (guess I love this trope). Masterlists

You had imagined life as a K-Pop idol manager to be much more glamorous.

You pity your young naive self. The one that envisaged schmoozing with stars and rubbing elbows with the movers and shakers, and instead set you on this horrid, lacklustre path.

What you didn't expect was the amount of time playing driver. Carting that stupid pink haired brat around. Waiting on him hand and foot during shoots and interviews, and being at his beck and call.

You have saved his ass more times than you can recall, ran through scripts with him, practised his stupid dances and moves alongside, protected him from unhinged fans and reporters and scavengers.

And yet you can count on one hand the amount of times he has thanked you.

Actually no, it didn't require any hands because he has thanked you exactly zero times for all your early mornings and late nights and for going above and beyond your duty.

Out of desperation, you had asked your boss if you could manage someone else and the request was declined.

"DG has taken a liking to you," she said, tone impressed as if that was something you should be proud of.

"Great," your smile comes out as more of a grimace.

And goddamn, this agency was so stupidly prestigious and the benefits and perks here really are second to none. Just why did Diego fucking Kang have to be their top idol.

.

.

The first time you crossed the threshold into his building, greeting the reception security guard and entering his penthouse keycode like you had been let in on the world's greatest secret, you had tiptoed around like a child in a museum. After all, this was DG's residence. The DG!

You had ooh-ed and aah-ed at every little thing. 

Taking delight in seeing his interior design of choice, the type of candy that he snacks on, the shampoo and conditioner he uses, the way he organises his desk. This is the chair DG sits on to eat. This is the sofa DG lounges on to watch TV. This is the bed he sleeps in, the bath he uses, the toilet he-

Any wide eyed innocence and awe evaporated after your first week working together.

Today, you stab in the entry code and let the door shut with a bang. 

You set his now cold coffee order on the kitchen counter and rifle with practised fingers through his unopened mail to see if there is anything you should draw his immediate attention to. You pick up his discarded clothes from the floor (and for fuck's sake, this suit jacket was on loan) and make your way to his bedroom where tufts of pink hair peeks out from under the cover.

"Good morning," you announce, locating the remote to open the blinds and letting in some sunlight.

Bedsheets rustle behind you.

"Good morning Diego," you repeat and give one warning, "I hope you're decent." With that, you throw the covers back to find the scantily dressed idol glaring up at you.

You remember the days when this sight would have made you weak at the knees. Seeing him half naked, in the flesh, freshly woken up with bedhead and half lidded eyes. It's what most of Korea dreams of, including yourself once upon a time.

Now all you feel is extreme irritation.

"Good morning," you say for the third time, plastering on a saccharine smile that you know DG sees clearly through because it is insincere as hell to anyone with half a brain cell. You let the fakeness shine through anyway.

For a split second, DG frowns as his eyes drop to your lips and then he pretends everything is good. Smiling back prettily, sharp canines on show and stretching. Lifting his arms overhead, showing a good stretch of pecs and abs and the line of muscle in a V pointing like an arrow straight down to his-

You roll your eyes.

"You're late." You throw the covers back over him and stride back towards the door. "We should have left half an hour ago." You leave out the part where you had been waiting downstairs in the car and after an hour of no show and no anything, you stomped your way up to his home.

DG, sensing your mood, adds oil to the fire with a smirk, "Why didn't you wake me then?"

If that idiot bothered to look at his phone, he would see a number of missed calls and unread messages from you.

Whatever.

"Hurry up."

.

.

DG has come across many people like yourself over the years. All cute and bright eyed, way too soft.

He never gave you any special treatment, for better or worse, and assumed that you would eventually burn out or give up and move on to something more worthwhile.

Unfortunately, in a rare turn of events, he had miscalculated.

Of course most people would be starstruck, it's only natural. But he mistook your sincerity and kind smile for ignorance and missed your sharp, observing gaze, and astute mind.

He's impressed, and he really can't remember the last time he was impressed.

In a matter of days of working together, you had managed to cut through the bullshit and within the month got him more compliant and docile than anyone else ever has.

Which should be a huge fucking problem, and raising red flags all over DG's mind.

...Except-

What's really troubling him right now, as he sulks in the passenger seat and you in the driver's, is that you have developed some sort of resistance to his charms.

Maybe a part of him does actually miss the you who he formed the first impression of. Who looked at him in wonder, with the same admiration that everyone else did.

Now that he knows you, he hates that he had thought that initial admiration was insignificant and worthless.

.

.

DG has a stash of candy in the car.

Or more accurately, you keep a stash of candy next to him to a) Shut him up and b) Keep him tolerable.

If DG wasn't so aloof, the fact that he has an incurable sweet tooth (and probably cavities to prove it) would have made headlines as a cute K-Pop fact and likely garnered sponsorship and advertising deals with all sorts of confectionary brands.

You had only found out during your adventures as his manager, rifling through his kitchen drawers trying to find his goddamn phone that he misplaced and you stumbled upon his stash of candy.

It really was a disgusting amount, something you'd expect a gaggle of grade schoolers at Halloween to hoard, not Diego goddamn Kang.

And then you also found out if he's not quiet and haughty in the car, making the atmosphere awkward, he likes to comment on your driving.

Who even sits in the passenger seat next to their 'chauffeur' anyway? He complains about you braking too suddenly and not accelerating fast enough. How you drive like an 80 year old with cataracts, and you're too slow when the light changes to green.

The turn in your relationship happened when you snapped at him to shut the fuck up after losing the final shred of your sanity on a three hour drive.

DG, to your dismay, didn’t miraculously lose his hearing and turns to you as you silently berate yourself for voicing the quiet thoughts out loud.

Although, you're in the deep end now. You're gonna get fired anyway, so if he says anything else you might as well give him a flick on the forehead or a pinch or maybe a punch to the face-

Instead, he laughs.

It's nothing like the laugh you have heard on TV and in interviews. The rehearsed and manicured 'haha' or cool chuckle that suits his shiny persona. It's kinda goofy and a lot endearing.

What's even more endearing is the way he does actually shut the fuck up for the rest of the journey. You like him a lot more after that.

So. You digress.

The candy is a way to keep the sweet toothed maniac quiet. Even if it doesn't work, at least it's harder to make out what insults he's slinging with a lollipop rattling around his mouth.

However, he has never ever shared any with you. Any of the candy that you stock, and pay for.

(That you technically claim back on company expenses, but you're trying to be self righteous here.)

Ever.

In all the months of working with him, he gobbles away happily even if your stomach is growling and you refuse to take any yourself out of principle.

Until-

"Here."

"Huh?"

Taking advantage of your response and open mouth, DG leans into your personal space and feeds you some chewy strawberry something or another (which coincidentally are his least favourite), fingers lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second.

Three things happen in quick succession.

The burst of sugar hits your tongue.

You nearly choke.

You narrowly avoid swerving.

"Careful now," DG grins when you get the car and yourself under control, and glance at him with a scowl.

Good. That proves you're not completely immune to his charms.

.

.

That bastard has now taken it upon himself to feed you candy at every opportunity.

You wonder if he's doing some sort of Pavlov experiment. The sweetness trying to erase any sourness you feel towards him.

It sort of works, and you consider biting his fingers off one of these days.

You hear the crinkling of wrappers, one for him that he pops into his mouth, and one for you that he gives without asking.

You angle your head towards him, and his fingers graze your lips every time.

Neither of you comment on the change but the intimacy drives you a little crazy.

.

.

And DG too.

Because intimacy works both ways and damnit his little gesture to keep the pretty blush on your face has backfired.

The only form of intimacy he knows comes from discreet hookups and low key links. Not someone who is around day in, day out. Or anyone that goes deeper than one night stands and booty calls.

You're there, you're always there. Of course you are, you're his manager.

But today, he feels under the microscope with you standing a couple metres away and keen eyes watching the camera monitor.

It's a no nothing day. Standard schedule where he shoots a fragrance commercial and he exits a pool all wet and sultry, white t-shirt clinging to his muscled body.

Then another scene where he writhes around slightly on a sunbed and eye-fucks the camera.

How it sells a fragrance, he never knows. The mystery of showbiz.

"Cut! More powder!" The director shouts out, the crew springing into action and DG knows exactly why.

He feels strangely embarrassed and flustered, which has manifested into his cheeks being flushed, and god he can't even remember the last time he has been like this.

It’s out of character and he needs to get his head together.

As the make up artist hurriedly dabs on some foundation, you make your way over to him.

"Are you sick?" you ask, concerned and reaching out to feel his forehead with the back of your hand.

"I'm fine," He says, turning away from your attentiveness and staring at a point in the distance.

.

.

With most people, if DG wants them out of sight, they stay out of sight.

But as his manager, and a very competent one at that, it’s harder to get you to leave.

Not that DG wants you to either, don’t get him wrong. 

The only constants he has around him are people who want something from him. And yes, he knows you’re only in his company because you work with him. However, he really can’t doubt the concern he always sees in your eyes. The compassion and empathy even when he makes you want to scream and tear your hair out.

His standoffish demeanour is not new to anyone. It’s part of his appeal to be quite honest. 

Yet he feels bad over the next couple weeks as he turns it up to eleven and tries to create some distance. He registers the hurt on your face as he is extra short with his answers and behaviour.

.

.

Pandering to overinflated celebrity egos and the insane Korean work ethic often leads to after hour shoots and dinner delayed until past midnight.

Honestly, this wreaks havoc on your sleep schedule and your skin.

"Here." You retrieve DG's takeout from the paper bag.

A double portion of delicious fried chicken with a side of kimchi and pickles. It's a change of pace from what most idols order, yet he doesn't give two shits about calories or sodium intake and to add insult to injury, somehow manages to keep his trim figure.

You lament your soggy salad sitting at the bottom. As if it’s not sad enough right now - once you arrive home, the lettuce will be wilting and room temperature and you will eat it in your dimly lit apartment with nothing to keep you company except the sound of the TV.

DG notices you turning to leave his penthouse, and his mouth moves before his brain can.

"Aren't you staying?"

"What?" You double take at the question.

DG's company is usually worse than your lonely meal for one. 

He’s annoying and you frequently want to slap him, but how he has been with you lately has been troubling and you actually feel a sense of relief at his offer.

(You had wondered if you might have been getting sacked up until this moment.)

Nevertheless, in all your time working alongside, you have never had a proper meal one on one together. Nothing more than you driving with one hand and the other hastily shoving a burger into your mouth as he looks on in disgust.

You would have dwelled on this more, wondering what's changed, what’s happened, but then-

"I'll share." DG nudges the box towards you, and the delicious scent of deep fried, battered goodness wafts along with it it

All your misgivings and your salad is forgotten.

.

.

Almost.

No, you were wrong.

Eating with DG, without any distractions such as traffic to navigate or other boisterous colleagues around, is unnerving. Disarming.

His haughtiness remains, but how haughty can someone be when munching on a drumstick.

All frostiness from the past weeks melts away as you both eat your way through his chicken.

He’s talking more tonight than you have heard in a while.

You find him funny, and really quite bitchy. Which you did know all along except it's much funnier now his slanderous comments aren't directed at you.

And has he always looked at you with such a piercing gaze? So intensely focused on what you have to say. Even if you're just complaining about your boss, blurring your lines of professionalism, he gives you his full attention.

You really can't remember the last time you have been in each other's company like this. 

You loathe to admit that even with what an asshole he is, DG's shine hasn’t dulled enough for you that you don't understand the appeal.

.

.

Leaning forward, DG whispers into your ear.

To anyone else, it looks like an over-affectionate idol with their manager. If they could hear his words, "I'm going to kill you," they would think otherwise.

Ok, so this one is your fault.

The good times have to come to an end and maybe you should have been more careful with his pride and joy - some ridiculously overpriced and over-specced vehicle.

Taking advantage of the clear blue Seoul skies, the pink haired menace was the one who drove you today in his fancy imported sports car, but the speed limits and the rest of the traffic was not on his side.

Already running late, even for him, he parked somewhere convenient and illegal then passed you the keys, leaving you stranded on the sidewalk, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, as he strode off to meet his music producer and choreographer and left you to park his baby elsewhere.

Why he entrusted you with it, you're not sure.

You would have done it anyway though, because when else are you going to have an opportunity to drive a supercar, if your boss didn't call at that moment. Questioning your expenses and DG's schedule and confusing you about the fitting at a fashion house and hair styling appointment that you knew like the back of your hand but when someone is so confidently incorrect, you start to doubt yourself.

By the time you got off the phone after pacing up and down the street and checking and double checking DG's timetable, you finally make your way back to the car-

And see it in the middle of being compounded.

You had begged and pleaded with the two men who were having none of it and you left, tail between your legs, to beg and plead with the other man who you knew would also have none of it.

Damn, you hate it when you prove yourself right in these instances.

You know DG won't really kill you, but he will likely make your life hell for the next couple weeks.

.

.

A normal person being pissed off at you would probably result in the silent treatment until tempers cool down.

DG does the opposite. Sort of.

He takes pleasure in making things as awkward for you as possible, until you're squirming in your seat trying to stay professional, thinking about your job and your rent and your bills; or torn between wanting the ground to swallow you up.

Around other people, your boss, your colleagues, his colleagues, he sidles up to you all smiles and soft looks. Slips purposely into banmal, and then oopsy, pretends that he didn't mean to be so informal with you around others.

Gossip soon stirs about your and DG's close relationship, if there's something else going on. Only you can see the mischief in his eyes and the malice in his smile and you think about yanking him by the ear and demanding to know what he is playing at.

Alone, he denies any sort of miscreant behaviour. Barely listening to you complaining and snapping at him. Ending with him outright ignoring you and you fume even harder.

This time, you're not sure the punishment even fits the crime. 

Any guilt soon dissipates when his car is returned in perfect condition within a couple days but his performance lasts for weeks.

.

.

Teasing you has always been fun for DG - when your cheeks dust angrily with pink and your eyes burn with fire.

The equivalent of a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails in the school yard.

.

.

Meetings with HNH Group usually do not involve you. If it does, at most you are waiting in the car.

Luckily, there are also an assortment of cafes and restaurants within a stone's throw and it gives you some time to debrief and catch a breather from following DG's hectic schedule.

The downside is you're never sure if a two hour meeting will be condensed to fifteen minutes or if a quick catch up with Charles Choi and other Executives turns into an all nighter.

There's been days where you have ordered a meal, then had to abandon it with a sigh and a longing look as you spot DG striding out of the building looking pissed off that you're not already there, or stayed in the vehicle with the engine running and your stomach rumbling as short appointments overshoot.

Maybe this is another consequence from DG being petty and irate with you for getting his car towed - you're left snoozing at the steering wheel of your runaround, the idol standard-issue luxury minivan, waiting for his return.

It's far too late in the evening for anywhere to be open, only the fluorescent lights of convenience stores and glare of the HNH logo illuminates the streets.

DG opens the sliding door, climbs into the back and slams it hard enough to jerk you awake and rattle the entire van.

He’s sitting by himself in the back, which is odd enough in itself.

As you blink away the dregs of sleep, in the rearview mirror, you notice the stiffness in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. His eyes stare vacantly out the window. DG is clearly upset about something, enough to crack through his aloof veneer.

"Are you ok?" You don't get a response, not even a passing glance.

Obviously something has gone wrong with the HNH Group meeting and the stress has manifested.

You wrack your brains thinking of something that might cheer up this asshole and you think of the only thing that improves your mood when you're on the verge of a breakdown.

(Usually due to the aforementioned asshole in your current presence). 

"Tteokbokki and beer?" You offer. It’s past your bedtime but a sulky DG for the rest of the week will also ruin your week too.

DG briefly looks at you before going back to staring at the window. It’s not a no.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night. 

At your favourite late night hole-in-the-wall, you eat far more tteokbokki than DG. On second thoughts, you don’t remember him eating any at all. You’re talking and downing beers to fill the silence, trying to perk up this silly celebrity. Loose lipped and spilling far more details than you would if you were sober, with him seated opposite and sipping on a soda. 

As the night ticks along, he thaws and a small smile settles on his face watching you gesticulate and ramble about your life.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night-

With DG driving, piggybacking you up to your apartment, and tucking you into bed.

.

.

DG can’t stop thinking of the weight of you on his back, arms slung over his shoulders, legs at his waist and his hands gripping your thighs.

You slurring drunkenly into his ear as he climbs the stairs in your building. It’s mostly nonsense. He can’t make out your words but remembers your breath tickling his skin.

And when he wraps your duvet around you, the brief moment of lucidity in your eyes as you look at him, softer than you ever have, you tell him, “Thanks Diego.”

Diego.

.

.

Nothing changes between the two of you after this. Not really.

You still find him an enormous thorn in your side. Incredibly stuck up and haughty and you continue to want to throttle him on a weekly basis but you are immensely grateful for him not leaving you a passed out heap on the sidewalk.

You’re in the middle of chastising him once again, dragging him out of bed as he is running late and being an absolute dick about it. Taking it easy as if he has all the time in the world. 

Well of course he does. He’s not the one that will be getting an earful from your boss or on the receiving end of the production crew’s complaints, as if trying to manhandle and cart this manchild around is easy.

“Diego Kang, I swear to fucking god-”

"James." He says, interrupting you as he picks out and pulls an eye-wateringly expensive jumper over his head.

"What?"

"Call me James when it's just us.” He checks out his outfit in the mirror, seemingly satisfied with it, before moving onto his hair. “James Lee. That's my real name."

DG, or James Lee, keeps his eyes on his reflection. Inspecting his non-existent roots, styling his fringe to make it fall just so and applying a liberal amount of hair product.

Nonchalant and casual even as he offers something desperately personal about himself.

"James," you say, trying out the sound for yourself. A name that seems at odds with his loud K-Pop shell but you imagine a time before the fame and the celebrity and the pink hair and it somehow fits.

"James," you repeat, and receive a small smile in return. Then it drops as you add, “If you don’t get your ass in the car in the next five minutes I will kill you.”

.

.

“James,” you think to yourself before you drift off to sleep that night. 

How peculiar.

“James, James, James.”

.

.

Celebrities these days are multi-hyphenates.

DG is an Idol-CEO-Actor, or at least trying to add the last one onto his resume. On looks alone, he would have already gotten his foot through the door. Add on his reputation and popularity, he is drowning in offers.

What you personally dislike more with K-dramas scenes though, is how long things take. How much it revolves around other actors and their managers whereas DG being in the studio or filming a music video is pretty much all him.

This K-drama is supposed to be the next big thing. 

With the biggest names attached, including DG who is making a cameo. The cameo that was also scheduled to be filmed five hours ago but you have both just been lurking in his dressing room since.

Along with some measly snacks and refreshments, which the crew has been kind enough to provide. 

However, the snacks are all but gone (thanks to you) and the refreshments are dwindling and there is no end in sight.

DG, or James, as you have started to call him in your head, is on his phone. He’s always on his phone. Scrolling through news articles, responding to important emails and messages.

There’s only so much news or celebrity gossip you can take. You have exhausted your own social media feeds and you have spent far too much money on your gacha games and the guilt has set in.

You twiddle your thumbs on the sofa next to him as he takes no notice of your presence and you decide to rest your eyes. 

Why not anyway? DG doesn’t need anything right now, work won’t be interrupting you, and there’s nothing for you to do. Just for a minute or five. Until someone from the production team knocks on the door and announces that it’s time for his scene.

DG side-eyes you when he notices your breath start to slow and deepen. Falling asleep on the job, really?

Then you let out a snore before smacking your lips together a couple times and he holds back a snort. He reasons that he should let you have some time to rest. After all, you’re the one that drives him around, his life is in your hands everyday and tiredness kills.

He’s on his phone for a few more minutes, reading through more emails on PTJ Entertainment and out of the corner of his eye he notices you drooping.

Body slowly slumping to slouch over him, until your head makes contact with his shoulder and you’re snoozing happily on your newfound pillow.

It’s equal parts inappropriate and cute.

Ugh, DG is 99% sure you’re drooling on him and the wardrobe department isn’t going to be happy when he returns the outfit.

Either way, that’s not going to be his problem. He adjusts minutely, makes it just a touch more comfortable for you and continues to scroll.

.

.

You wake up to a wetness by your mouth, and to your horror, DG smirking down at you.

.

.

Despite none of this being your fault, you apologise to everyone about having to reschedule DG’s music video shoot due to the previous day’s K-drama delays.

To your relief, the music video goes swimmingly and without a hitch, and the production is wrapped up on time. 

You’ll happily bet that his new song will go straight to No.1. If not, then at least the sensual music video will guarantee DG remains top of mind for weeks. 

You’re updating your boss and even she seems to be pleased.

"This is just work." DG interrupts as you're mid call.

You look up at him, brows furrowed.

Holding your hand to your phone to mute the speaker, you whisper, "I know."

"Good," and he walks away leaving you as confused as ever.

It's not the first time you have seen him shoot an MV, which thank the heavens is so much more efficient than bloody k-dramas, and also not the first time that there's been scenes that emulate an intimate moment. Lips nearly brushing together. Hands roaming bodies under fake rain.

Even if DG notices that you're watching the scene, eyes glazed over and bored, he still felt the urge to explain to you that there's nothing between you and the leading lady in the video.

Once out of sight of everyone, he facepalms himself for his ridiculousness.

.

.

You’re right, and you absolutely love it when you’re right.

The song goes straight to No.1 and holds that position for weeks, fending off competition from boy bands and girl groups and other solo artists. Apparently it’s going to be the song of the summer.

The music video also breaks records for being the most watched within 24 hours.

DG only reviews it once for post-production checks and finds it just fine.

There’s something he can’t quite put his finger on that seems off with it.

He wonders what it would look like if it was you starring opposite him.

.

.

“Where on earth is he?” You grit your teeth and grip harder onto the umbrella that is threatening to be swept away by the wind.

And another thing with being DG’s manager: it’s fine if he’s late but not if it’s you.

(Although to be fair, this instance of him being late is likely due to this particular music producer he’s meeting with enjoying the sound of his own voice.)

You were running late exactly one time in the past, during the first couple days of managing him, when the skies opened and drenched the earth. 

Heavens forbid DG’s perfect, beautiful, flawless hair is ruined by the rain. 

It’s not like he looked like a drowned rat. The paparazzi caught him in a wet t-shirt, fabric clinging to his abs and his pink hair slicked back stylishly. Even the goddamn raindrops were running fashionably down his high cheekbones and dripping off his pout.

For the next week, the tabloids and internet forums went wild with how hot he looked. 

(Who knows, maybe that was the inspiration for his fragrance commercial.)

Nevertheless, DG was displeased and it made its way back to your boss how displeased he was.

Ever since, you have been the unfortunate soul waiting in all manners of weather for him. Rain storms, blistering sun, freezing snow.

Today, it’s your favourite. Rain. You shiver against the elements trying to take shelter under the building entrance canopy, the wind whipping the downpour every which way and you’re getting soaked regardless of how you angle your umbrella.

“Hurry up, DG.”

You check the time over and over. He would be early to his next appointment if he exited the building now. 

…On time.

…On time if the traffic was in your favour.

…Late, but not terribly so.

…Fashionably late.

… Late enough to piss everyone off in the room.

Shit. Just as you begin to fret, wondering if something has happened to him-

Clicks and flashes from cameras alert you to his royal highness finally making an appearance, ready to exit the studio and making his way over to the car.

He materialises by your side, and you mutter a familiar phrase to him. 

“You’re late.” 

It’s a mantra you’re tired of repeating, but he relishes if the amused grin is any indication.

Without a word, he takes off his trench coat and drapes it around your shoulders. His right hand covers yours over the umbrella handle, left wrapping around your waist as he guides you through the throng of reporters and fans.

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath. 

You can imagine the optics now from the papers and your boss. It looks… Well. Not terrible but not the best.

“You’re soaked,” is all DG provides, accompanied with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

He opens the driver’s door for you before he climbs into the passenger’s side.

.

.

Thank goodness for your gift of the gab.

He’s being a gentleman, you tell everyone that would listen. Isn’t this what Korea wants? An idol with manners and who looks after everyone? Is empathetic and caring?

Think how well it would resonate with the female demographic, who wants a boyfriend like this! The older boomer demographic, who thinks none of the young ‘uns have any manners anymore!

Your boss isn’t convinced until the advertising offers for umbrella companies roll in.

.

.

Truth be told, DG doesn’t know what possessed him to do that. Especially in front of cameras.

Though, it’s not like he could just let you get even more drenched could he? You’re standing there, looking pitiful and he was just going to let you hold the umbrella over him when he should be the one taking care of you-

Hold on.

DG frowns at himself.

Damn.

.

.

James Lee has never looked after anyone besides himself. You need to look after yourself if you are to survive this dog eat dog world. To make it atop the Pre-Generation, the First Generation and now the Second.

He had unfathomably high expectations of himself (that he managed to achieve) and low expectations for relationships (that hadn’t been proven wrong yet).

People have flitted in and out of the chapters of his life, no-one staying around for long. Definitely no-one staying around long enough to know him, for him to grow comfortable with. 

Perhaps it has been the forced closeness that has caused him to let his guard down. Cabin fever, in a sense.

But James Lee, Diego Kang, has himself also been around long enough to know there’s more to you and he wants more of you.

.

.

Finding reasons to spend time together isn’t difficult. Actually, finding reasons to spend time apart would be much harder.

You both get on with your jobs and your duties, even as the closeness grows day by day.

And every time when you’re alone and you call him James, his heart grows fonder.

.

.

Out of all the seats available in his apartment, James lounges next to you, long legs draping over yours.

It's another night in together.

These seem to be happening with increasing frequency. DG at least used to keep up appearances, networking with his fellow celebrities.

Parties where you used to look at him with distaste as starlets surrounded him, award shows that he couldn't care less about as you hung around in the background.

Now he prefers to stay in with you, using work as a thin excuse. Studying lyrics that he has already memorised, going over dances that are long ingrained in him.

"You're not going to her party?" You ask, you were sure this fan-favourite and DG were an item or had history. At the very least, the who's who of the industry always attended her gatherings.

"No," his eyes continue roving over the lines.

Then when you thought the conversation was done, he looks over the top of his paper, eyes sparkling with playfulness, "I prefer being here with you."

Oh. Your breath catches in your throat.

You think you might never breathe normally again.

.

.

No, that’s a lie. Any opportunities for rose-tinted glasses has long passed by. You both know each other too well for that.

You breathe perfectly fine. Actually, this morning you are taking deep breaths to try and centre yourself. 

It’s not working. 

“You’re always fucking late,” you snap, giving in to your anger.

Sometimes you think it is your fault for not watching over DG 24/7. That instead of going back home, you should just live with him so you can shake him awake when he is supposed to get up instead of when he wants to.

And does it hurt him to look the least bit contrite at making your life a misery? 

Why does he have to look so smug with a lollipop stick hanging out his mouth? Seriously, between all the rushing around this morning, when did he find time to look for goddamn candy?

“For fuck’s sake, James.” You’re speed walking towards his front door, looking at the Maps app on your phone and miss his smile at you snarling his name. 

You’re already running behind and every route to the recording studio is red due to roadworks or an accident or just plain ol’ congestion. “Shit!”

Your finger jabs at the elevator button multiple times.

“It’s not going to get there any quicker if you do that,” DG speaks lowly into your ear and you get the urge to pinch him.

Instead of prodding some more at the button, you turn around and prod him in the chest.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days,” You growl. “It’s fine for you, Diego goddamn Kang, the star who is pretty much untouchable. I’m not. I’m replaceable. There’s a million people who would take my job-”

DG snatches your hand, holds it still. “You’re not replaceable.” Then adds with an infuriating grin, “So what if we’re late.”

The minivan is skipped, and his answer to your problem is his other pride and joy. A motorbike that looks far too aggressive and a complete death trap.

“I’m not getting on that,” you say as DG hands you leathers that materialised from god-knows-where and a spare helmet.

“Fine,” he says, shrugging and throwing a leg over. “I don’t think your boss will be happy.”

“Fuck!”

.

.

If this was any other situation, you would be acutely aware of yourself pressed up against DG’s back. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Except all you can focus on is that you’re going to fucking die. You think you might be screaming.

“Stop screaming!” His disembodied voice calls out. Oh. Turns out you are.

For some reason, DG had thought the helmets with built in speakers and mic would be better for communication. Fun, even. Frankly, you’re just giving him a headache.

(Not to mention the fact that he bought a spare helmet at all. And leathers that he thought would be exactly your size.

He had never rode with anyone before and you certainly had never expressed any interest. Yet he passed by a motorcycle store when he had rare time to spare, and visited on a whim.

If he dwelled on this anymore, DG is sure his headache would turn into a full blown migraine.)

Later that night, when the ringing in his ears finally subside, he will still think about the way you held him.

.

.

When public opinion is on your side, then that’s fantastic. Amazing. You tend to get away with all sorts of things.

When it’s not, the truth can become muddied and there’s mental gymnastics from all sides painting you as the villain.

Fortunately, public opinion generally works in DG’s favour, especially in the case of his stalker who got sentenced for more jail time than if she was harassing a normal person, but not long enough to account for all the distress she has caused.

Such is the criminal justice system.

Her date of release looms large and near. DG, despite his talent and fighting prowess, realises certain traumas can’t be erased.

He grows on edge. Skittish. Snaps at any and everything. It’s noted by journalists. Other managers gives you questioning looks

You don’t miss his change in demeanour. To you, the reason behind it is obvious. 

You’ve heard about this case, everyone has. It dominated headlines for almost a month: the crazy sasaeng fan who believed herself to be DG’s girlfriend before moving onto another poor soul and was finally arrested.

As he spirals, nothing you do or say to him manages to get more than a nod or a frown. You try to offer that she had fixated on someone else before she was arrested, hoping that was a small consolation to him. And though he managed a weak smile, the black cloud still hangs over him.

In the end, you pack your bags and arrive at DG’s one evening. Instead of letting yourself in like you usually would, you ring the buzzer, smile into the door camera and tell him “It’s me!”

The door swings open to reveal DG looking perplexed (and worse for wear). Head tilting, curious and inquisitive when he sees your suitcase and carrier bags full of snacks.

“I’m staying for a while.”

“According to who?”

You barge past him anyway with a grin.

.

.

The date of his stalker’s release arrives and passes without drama.

You miss your home comforts but it makes you happy to see DG’s mood genuinely improve as the days go on.

The luxurious oversized mattress, fancy spa shower, and jacuzzi bathtub also helps to make your stay a bit more bearable.

Not to mention each morning DG actually cooks breakfast for you. Turns out he’s not bad at all at playing a househusband, and it’s also maddening how he manages to get up each day before you when he hasn’t got any place to be.

“Thanks James,” you say, when he presents you with a home cooked meal and his smile grows a bit more each day.

.

.

Peace doesn’t last.

Blurry photos of you both leaving and entering DG’s apartment at all hours of the day and night make the front page of certain news sites.

Headlines scream with leading questions. 

“Relationship beyond Manager and Idol?”

“How a Manager seduced their Idol.” 

“Who is this mystery person that has tamed DG?”

Why anyone deemed it newsworthy is beyond you. You’ve been to his apartment a million times. 

Yes, you suppose the closeness of DG and yourself in the photos can look a little suspect. 

In this particular one, it looks like you have your hand caressing his chest when in actual fact you were shoving him away for a dismissive comment he made.

And the other photo, of his hand on your wrist, was actually him dragging you away when he spotted a herd of fans in the distance.

More pictures unveil themselves.

A snapshot of you driving and DG feeding you candy.

You and DG, whispering intimately in your ear as his supercar is being towed away in the background.

You red faced and drunk as DG piggybacks you outside your building.

His jacket wrapped around you, hand on your waist and angling the umbrella over you.

Him smiling down at you (ok, you admit that you didn’t realise how soft that looks to other people.)

Finally an exceptionally pixelated image of you both on his bike, that could be anyone really.

Unfortunately, your opinion is in the minority as the articles are inundated with comments and furious, tearful fans shrieking that their idol is betraying them. 

Simply unhinged.

.

.

The speculation grows. You’re damned if you do deny anything, damned if you don’t. Your talent agency puts out an official statement.

To your ire, the statement is ‘no comment’ rather than anything more definitive. You glare at James when you find out, suspecting he has something to do with this.

He gives you a shrug, and a familiar look of mischief.

To his credit, he doesn’t leave you completely to fend for yourself. You stay off social media for your sanity, and when the paparazzi hounds you, he's the one with his arm around you, cutting a path through the crowd and shielding you.

It adds fuel to the fire. Does nothing to help your case. 

Still, you can’t help feeling safe and secure with his hand guiding you - holding onto your waist, round your shoulder, or simply - 

Your hand in his.

.

.

Outside of the conference room, where DG is wrapping up a press release for his newest album and nothing else, a reporter slinks out and approaches you.

You’re used to being on the other side of the conversation. Part of the staff, herding DG through camera flashes and questions being thrown at him though there was always some sort of camaraderie. Both parties just trying to do their job with deadlines and targets to hit.

This time you just feel a weariness as you see this person making a beeline towards you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They say, holding out their hand for a shake which you take with reluctance.

“Hi.”

A voice recorder is thrusted into your face, and you automatically take a step back. “Hope you don’t mind, but I just have a couple questions for you.”

“Um...”

“There’s been lots of sightings of you and DG together-”

You open your mouth to argue-

“Can you confirm your relationship with him?”

A vacant smile settles onto your face. It’s a practised expression where you follow all the cues to be polite and professional even as internally you wish to be anywhere but here. “I’m his manager.”

“Are you two together? Romantically?”

“I’m his manager.” You repeat through gritted teeth, and you’re surprised to hear your voice calm and collected.

“Is that a no? Or-”

“What even is this question?” You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks heat, and refusing to partake in this circus a moment longer. “This is over.”

You manage to at least catch them looking apologetic, before you stride off into a corner to take a deep breath.

.

.

DG, much more adept and experienced at fending off questions, had finished the conference early and caught the entire exchange, watching you both with a bemused look.

Walking towards you with quiet, measured footsteps, his hand settles onto your lower back as he murmurs your name.

He bites back a laugh at your small, startled jolt.

DG tilts his head to signal ‘this way’. You give him a look but follow him regardless. Trailing behind, moving far away from other prying eyes. 

Up a flight of stairs, through multiple fire doors, turning left then right then another right then maybe a left. It doesn’t matter. You’re hopefully lost and decide to just put your faith in this wretched idol.

He finally seems to find what he’s looking for as he reaches an empty corridor; stopping mid-step and you collide into his back.

“Ack!” You exclaim, hitting the solid wall of muscle.

He lets out a huff of laughter and whirls around to face you, noting how cute your look of surprise is.

How strange though, that this is his current position. But is it really unexpected that the person that has been by his side for months has finally worked their way into his heart and has somehow learned to read him when no-one else could?

If he really thinks about it, yes actually, it is unexpected. No-one else has managed to grow close to him before. As James Lee, as Diego Kang. Birds of a feather or opposites attract or everything in between, no-one has got him like you do. 

There’s still so much more to tell and show you but… First things first.

Fidgeting, you shift your weight from one foot to another, growing self-conscious waiting for DG to talk, only to find him staring intently at your face. Impatient, you give in and speak first.

“What is it?”

“...”

“Diego-”

“James.” He cuts in abruptly, “It’s just us right now. Please.”

You blink in shock at the please and correct yourself at his insistence, lowering your voice so it doesn’t echo down the empty hallway. “James, are you ok?”

“Better than ever,” he says, a smirk now pulling at his lips.

You register his change in mood and narrow your eyes, wondering where this is going. “Why are we here?”

“When the reporter asked if we were together, you said you’re my manager.”

“I am your manager.”

“But you are interested in me.”

It’s not a question. DG, no James, says it like a fact and there’s no doubt in your mind or his. You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Open it once more-

What.

You feel some cogs in your brain misfiring and all you can manage is a feeble, “Huh?”

“You told them you’re my manager, but didn’t say no to being with me.”

“...”

“So. What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“Us.”

“You like me. Tell me that I’m wrong.”

You take a step back. “...”

Another step. “...”

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

And your back hits the wall with an oomph.

DG slaps his hand on the wall beside your head, bends at the waist and leans his weight forward until he’s eye level with you. “Tell me and I promise I’ll stop.”

“...”

You’re cornered and he searches your face for a response.“Y/N?”

“...”

Fuck. Fuck!

How on earth are you supposed to respond when he looks at you like this. When his face is millimetres from yours and his breath is on your skin and his dark eyes pierces into your soul, pupils blown deliciously wide.

With his stupid pink hair and his fringe flopping, framing his face and his high cheekbones.

The stupid canines of his poking out that gives him so much character and is so hot it hurts when he flashes it accompanied with an arched brow and an arrogant smile.

His stupid pout and his stupid lips, that you know is constantly moisturised with a fancy overpriced lip balm to make it look kissable for the cameras.

And Jesus Christ, you hate to admit it but they do. They 100% do because somewhere in the back of your brain you always knew they look kissable but it has been often clouded by just simply how annoying and bratty you found him.

Except right now you don’t find him annoying or bratty at all.

Even as he’s confessing his feelings with complete confidence, no unease, no anxiety or doubts, because he always had a way of worming under your skin and he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Damn it all.

“Kiss me,” you tell James, and he isn’t surprised at all by your reaction, face lighting up at your confirmation.

He shifts. 

Hand coming up to cup your cheek. He rubs his thumb twice over your skin, savouring you any way he can before tilting your face towards his. His lips at first brushes against your forehead. Leaves a trail down your nose, peppers both cheeks and then your chin. 

He draws back once, takes in your sweet face and gives you a smile so soft it makes your heart hurt.

Then finally, after wanting this for so long, presses his lips against yours.

Diego Kang, James Lee, tastes like candy and sugar.

[melancholicstation]

GOD BLESS AMERICA AND ALL THE BEAUTIFUL WOMEN IN IT —HUSBAND!JACK SCHLOSSBERG COMFORT HEADCANONS 𓍼 𓇢𓆸

jack schlossberg fan fiction is for the lovers

WIFE!READER returns and is the orion carloto archetype, who balances modelling and writing, and i imagine her making tiktoks in the same vain of alanabananaxox (she's been my no.1 tiktoker since 2021) and sotce on tiktok.

taglist: @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl

no matter the stressor husband!jack literally treats it as a top-priority emergency

immediately goes to start a bath for you in your gorgeous copper bathtub (cause of course you have a copper bathtub ... duh) with some suzzane kaufman bath salt's that he picked up down in greenwich after a meeting with vogue's magazine department.

husband!jack is a freak for baths and it's rubbed off on you ... seriously like that man takes baths multiple times a week, on top of daily showers

if he had to be out on a day you were particularly anxious for whatever reason he would come home with a laundry bag of new tasteful yet cute stuffed animals from loewe and never tell you the prices cause he knows you'd crash out

is great at being a body pillow and has no shame just laying in silence together for hours

would try to make you feel better by getting the overpriced (not in your opinion) criterion subscription just so you could watch vintage halloween movies without running a risk of getting hacked on some third-party sketchy website

would 100% let you live in his clothes while he was out of the house so you could feel comforted even if he wasn't physically near

would absolutely try to distract you with light comedy, despite his cockiness he is indeed a funny guy so it helps slightly

husband!jack would be such a proponent of a healthy mind is a healthy body so he'd make you go do jump rope with him (cause why does jump roping have to be so humiliating) or even worse takes you out to paddle board, like imagine your knee-deep in that melancholic state where you only read plath novels and listen to unreleased lana and your boyfriend drags you out to go paddle boarding???? like cmon now

you do feel better afterwards but you would never tell him that

if you guys owned any pets together he would without a doubt tell you he's going to be out for a couple of hours and come back with one of those portrait paintings of house-pets to cheer you up (editors note: vang olsen mimi does the most delightful pet paintings if your in greenwich!)

he would absolutely NOT be above trying to self-medicate your problems (within reason) by smoking w*ed with you or sharing a cigar being the chicest couple ever!

would 100% smother you in delightfully soft cashmere blankets in the pattern of gorgeous tapestries

would earnestly read poems (robert frost, emily dickinson, and shakespeare) to you to get you to sleep on the especially hard days

is a devout optimist and routinely talks you out of your doom scrolling

always holds space for whatever emotions you are feeling but always wants to provide solutions to your problems

and when he encounters a problem he can't so easily fix he invests time into getting your mind off it and plans steps you can take to lessen the hold whatever your stressing about has on you

writes mini impromptu love letters/pep talks on the empty spaces in your agenda notebook (wife!reader would totally own more than 1 of these louise carmen organisers in an apropos shade of autumn scarlet )

encourages you to do self-care rituals with your staple skincare products by letting you do the exact same steps on him

while husband!jack cooks for you both you read him your favourite chapters of "democracy" by joan didion in the kitchen every night and it remains a pillar in your routine despite the tumult

during your hard times jack is serving peak husbandry doing the washing, cooking and cleaning

when he's on his lunch break at the office you get text messages like this:

always makes sure that you take your medication (if you take any) at the exact times its supposed to be at and has little alarms on his phone

husband!jack would increase his acts of service to 1000% like that man would be taking your row boots into the cobbler for a new sole

would bring home flowers without a special occasion, just cause

would without a doubt bring out those STELLAR accents just to see you smile

disclaimer: this is all obviously fiction and i do not know this man nor how he calms anyone down, this is all for some fun distraction in these trying times.

to anyone struggling with the results and its ramifications (same here) i would really encourage you to read this beautiful (free) essay from alanabanaxox on patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/i-miss-dancing-115580140?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_fan&utm_content=web_share

[hornyhornyhimbos]

pov: eddie really doesn't know when to keep his hands off you... even in public... even at lover's lake ♡

18+ duh, perv!eddie x afab!reader, fingering f!receiving, exhibitionism a lil bit, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, sweet girl), nipple sucking, explicit language, implied smut at the end, 1.3K words, color coded speaker tags, shoutout to @dungeons-are-too-cold for recommending this concept and for beta reading!

filthy fridays | ask box

you loved eddie, but man could he be an asshole...

the two of you had spent the day at lover's lake, and the day had so far been peaceful. you'd started out with a picnic on the dock, where he'd brought some of wayne munson's famous sweet tea and had made your favorite sandwiches, cut into cute little heart shapes, cheesy bastard that he was. you shared the chocolate-covered strawberries you'd brought while lying out in the sun, just enjoying the lake all to yourselves.

it wasn't until you peeled off your—or rather, his—oversized tee shirt and revealed the bathing suit you were sporting that you were reminded of just how much of an ass he could be.

you'd worn a little green number, a polka dotted ensemble that left little to the imagination. you tied the bottoms in cute little bows at your hips, and the second you pulled off your tee shirt, eddie was practically foaming at the mouth.

before he could get his hands on you, you jumped into the water, swimming away in a fit of giggles. he followed suit, tossing off his own shirt and jumping into the lake, diving after you with the ease of an olympic swimmer.

it wasn't long before eddie caught up to you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you up to the surface with him. he was all laughs as he pulled you in for a kiss, his fingers meeting your stomach with soft tickles.

"eddie, no!" you said through giggles, your limbs flailing and throwing water everywhere. droplets hit eddie in the eyes, but he was unrelenting, spreading tickles all over your bare skin.

his fingers drifted over a particularly sensitive part of your body, causing you to jerk in response, your leg brushing in between his own. that was when you registered that this little tickle fight was driven by something else.

you rolled your eyes, turning away from your chronically horny boyfriend, but he was quick to respond, wrapping his arms around your middle and holding you close. his hardening cock rested against your ass, and you couldn't say it wasn't turning you on.

still, you managed to ask, "are you always horny?" to which he responded with a soft kiss to the dip of your neck, trailing his lips along the string of your bikini top.

"maybe," he answered, and you could hear the smirk he was sporting. "but how am i to blame for it? i can't help you're the sexiest girl alive."

you hated that his words made you blush, you hated that with one sentence he could have you turned on, but mostly, you hated that he knew exactly how to distract you. because somewhere, between the hickies he was leaving on your neck and the rutting of his hips against you, you failed to notice his hands slipping down to the fastenings of your bottoms.

"eddie?" you called in a panic as the cold water hit your now uncovered core, a rush of both anxiety and arousal flowing through your body.

"yes, baby?" he answered, fake innocence coating his tone. his lips trailed down your neck to your shoulder while his hands trailed from your hips toward your center.

"eddie, where are my bottoms?!" you all but screamed, racing to swim away but his hold on you was just tight enough to keep you against him.

"i have no clue what you're talking about," he said, a chuckle threatening to fall after the words.

you tried to squirm away, but eddie had other plans, one of his hands coming up to meet your cunt, his thumb swiping over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"ed-" his name got caught in your breath as he teased your folds with a finger, his thumb showing no mercy to your clit.

his tone was clearly taunting as he said, "if your bottoms fell off, why don't you go try to find them?"

your head turned to face him, mouth falling into an open 'o' as his finger finally slipped inside you. "you're such a- fuck- asshole."

eddie tutted against the shell of your ear, his finger crooking deeper inside you. "now, that's no way to treat me when i'm making you feel so," one pump of his finger, "damn," a second flex, "good," a third.

you fell nearly limp against him, moans falling from your lips as he continued working the digit inside you. eddie quickly accompanied the digit with a second, soon brushing them against that sweet spot that would have you falling apart in no time.

he kissed the crook of your neck, licking softly over one of the bruises he'd left earlier. "do you wanna cum, sweetheart?"

you nodded, whined, writhed against his fingers, anything to show him just how much you wanted to. "please," you whimpered, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip.

"go ahead, sweet girl," he whispered, taking your skin between his teeth while slipping a third finger inside you, "go ahead and cum for me, yeah?"

at his instruction, you were falling apart, his fingers drawing an absolutely euphoric orgasm out of you. eddie knew each and every way to make you come undone, and while you wanted to be mad about the swimsuit situation, you definitely couldn't be mad at the way his fingers felt inside you right now.

his name fell off your tongue like your lifeline. eddie rutted against your ass, trying to find some form of relief from his ever-growing erection, leaving moans in your ear that were only coaxing on your climax. "shit, baby," he said with a particularly hard rut, "y' should wear that swimsuit more often. feel how hard you've got me?"

his comment brought you back to reality, immediately finding the force to swim away and search for the missing bottoms. luckily, they hadn't floated too far away, but in a momentary lapse of judgment, you were hit with an idea while you were under the water. your hands flew to eddie's swim trunks, pulling them down and immediately swimming back to shore.

"you're dead when i catch you!" he shouted through laughter, wading through the water and attempting to hold up his shorts at the same time.

"you started it!" you shouted back. you ran over to the van, holding the small piece of fabric in front of you as best you could, just in case anyone were to spot you. you made a quick attempt at tying them back on, but not before eddie made his way over to you.

in a swift movement, he had both of your wrists pinned above your head, your bikini bottoms falling to the pavement below. he clicked his tongue, a disapproving look on his face. "very naughty of you to run away from me like that, sweetheart," he reprimanded, holding you against the frame of the van.

your stomach twisted with want as you noticed the dark look in his eyes, excitement and arousal dripping through your veins. still, you found yourself arguing, "oh, i'm the one that's naughty? that's something coming from you, perv."

his lips met the dip of your breasts, eliciting a moan from you. "i don't seem to recall you arguing too much about the way i made you feel back there," he mentioned between kisses, his hand coming up to palm at you through the green material. "in fact, the way your pussy was sucking me in, i'd say she was upset i didn't give her more."

he pulled one of your breasts out of the bikini top, his lips trailing from the valley of your chest to your hardened nipple. a moan escaped your lips as he suckled the bud, his palm moving to cup your neglected boob.

your head fell back against the van, your thighs clenching together with every movement of his tongue. "please, eddie," you all but begged, "give me more."

with one swift movement, he had your legs wrapped around his waist, fiddling quickly with the door of his van, desperate to lay you down and fuck you right. "ask and ye shall receive, sweetheart."

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @esoltis280

[little-annie]

*Steve had a migraine and Eddie comes lovingly to the rescue*

It's a fucking bad one.

Everything hurts.

Everything makes him hurt.

The sound of the old pipes in the house knocking, the sound of a tree brach creaking, the sound of his own fucking breath. It makes him hurt. It makes the pressure in his head swell with a fury.

The weight of his head on the pillow, the tightness in his jaw, the tension in his brow, the strain in his eyes. The fucking light glowing from his alarm clock or creeping in under his door from the hallway.

Everything's too bright, too loud and everything just makes him feel worse.

Especially that fucking phone that won't quit ringing.

It makes him feel worse from the sound alone, a fog horn blaring down the hall, echoing and bouncing from the walls. It's a vile sound and it only stops for a total of five, maybe ten minutes before it starts again. An incessant RING, RING, RING.

Fucking hell

But what honestly makes him feel even worse is he knows it's probably Dustin or Robin or Eddie or one of the kids. They're probably worried. Christ, the shit they've gone through, after one missed call they probably think he's dead. But it's not like he can bring himself to get out of bed and answer the phone, so he lets it ring and after an hour, it finally, finally, stops.

Along with the slightly more quiet house comes some relief, a lessening of pain and pressure, just enough for Steve to manage sleep.

And a deep sleep at that.

So deep he doesn't hear the knock at the front door, doesn't hear the call of his name from the man he loves, doesn't hear the knock on his bedroom door by ringed fingers. He fails to sense fingers to his neck checking for a pause, the relieved sigh that's let out from the man at his bedside, the slow, careful movements of his lover slipping into bed behind him, wrapping tattooed arms around his waist and pulling him close.

He wakes a few hours later, a snore not so much startling him awake, but gently alerting him to the presence of one Eddie Munson at his back. It's a relief in itself to have Eddie there, the tension in his body seems to lessen from that alone. Not completely of course but some.

The snoring had stopped, the young man behind him alerted of his wakefulness probably by his subtle movements or change in breath.

Soon enough there's a gentle peck to the back of his neck and whispered words of, "How're you feeling Sweetheart?"

God and if Eddie's voice doesn't make him feel better. He doesn't know if it's the headache necessarily that eases up or purely the tension from his frustration, but having Eddie close and having his voice like a low, quiet melody in his ear is calming, relieving.

But all Steve can manage is a quiet, "s' hurts Eds."

Another soft kiss to his chilled, clammy, frankly probably disgusting skin, "I know Baby. When's the last time you took something?"

"6"

"Okay, I'm gonna go get you some water and painkillers. What do you need Stevie, your ice mask, a hot bath?"

"Want a bath and you to read to me."

"Okay Sweetheart," another kiss to the back of his neck, "You sleep and I'll get everything ready."

He drifts back to sleep before he can even process the movement of his mattress or the gentle kiss to his forehead.

While he's out Eddie manages to prepare a hot bath filled with Lavender oil and Epsom salts, taking the time to do dishes and any other of the household chores Steve would worry about on a daily basis. By the time the bath is ready, dishes are done, laundry is done and steam is rolling into Steve's room from his ensuite.

The lights are off in the bathroom aside from a single candle that burns just bright enough for Eddie to make out the world around him. He wakes Steve with a kiss and a hushed, "Stevie, Sweetheart, get up Baby, you need to take something for the pain."

And when Steve can manage to open his eyes, he sees the man he loves holding a glass of water and two small pills. With a little help he sits up, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Eddie's stomach for a moment before he takes the pills and finishes his glass of water.

Wordlessly he stands up, hand clasped in Eddie's as the man leads him to the dimly lit bathroom. It's a routine, unfortunately, this happens enough for Steve to no longer be embarrassed when Eddie undresses him and helps him into the bath. It's a normal thing. The touches that are chaste and gentle and loving, every care in the world as fabric drops to the floor and he sinks into the water.

He sighs with relief, eyes fluttering shut while he listens to Eddie undress, the careful drop of fabric, the hardly audible trickle of metal rings being set on the counter top, then there's a hand on his cheek and lips on his. A soft gentle kiss, then Eddie's moving into the tub to settle behind him. Steve relaxes further, feeling Eddie's body behind his own. Feeling the rise and fall of his lover's chest against his back or the weight of an arm settling around his waist while pale thighs move to settle at his sides. He feels enveloped. Held.

Then there's a kiss on his shoulder and Eddie begins to read. Soft, quiet, low, a whisper in the room, gentle words in the steamy air. Steve slumps further into the bath, eyes closed, head resting against Eddie's shoulder as their fingers intertwined under the water, resting against his stomach.

It's everything and the tension melts away, the pressure in his head fading with each passing second, each passing whispered word.

Cool water, a relaxed mind and an hour later he's drifting to the land of slumber once again. Faintly he hears the fold of paper and the gentle thump of Eddie's book hitting the floor. A hand settles in his hair, gently combing through strands, then a kiss is placed on his temple, soft, gentle and with the whispered words of, " I love you Sweetheart."

[romanoffsbish]

I Still Can’t Fucking Breathe…

WandaNat x Fem!Reader

I Can’t Breathe

Requested 🥺 | Avoid this fic if you know you won’t fair well with “vivid” imagery

Warnings: Heavy on the past Self Harm/Current Temptations(Indulgences—ED/Physical stimuli—Cold Bath), Blood, Overall Numbness, Ideation. Ends happy, and this one shows the Reader saving themselves a bit 🥹 | 3,082 Words

Numb—A state of mind that is all consuming. Feeling anything at all is next to impossible. The thing about it too, is that it never goes away; it can be dulled, buried even, but in the silence it always finds a way to creep back in.

—————

For almost two years now you'd managed to evade its cold grasp, but after the fight you had with your girlfriends, and their disappearance immediately after for a month long mission, you find yourself back where you'd started. Thoughts of how the world would be brighter without you consume your mind whenever you have the energy to think, and when you don't all you can do is stare mindlessly at the door.

Everyday you lose more of your fight to stay, the lack of Natasha's comforting humming to put you to sleep has left you perpetually tired, and without Wanda's cooking you're starving. Pathetic is all you feel at the prospect of not being able to even exist without them here; it accompanies the numb well, because you cycle between fits of sobs, and dissociative episodes.

Two weeks of mindlessly existing went by in a blur, everyday you spent even more time in the bed, in unchanged clothes that reeked of musk. Trudging down the stairs had become a chore, one that seemed unnecessary when you knew the women you loved weren't coming back yet.

Your mind cruelly reminds you that it might even be permanent, flashes of their faces full of disappointment plague your mind all day long.

It's funny really—if only you could laugh...

You honestly can't remember why the three of you fought at all, it's all irrelevant now though. Nothing matters, no rational thought process is going to bring you out of your current spiral. Finding a cause for it will have no effect here... Natasha and Wanda's return is the only way you see this coming to an end, well, you also envision other ways but those come with a permanence that you're honestly unsure of.

Death has been a potential occurrence that you'd welcomed since your early adolescence. Memories of lying awake while your parents fought over God knows what echo in your mind as you ironically lay in this bed in total silence. A childhood spent fighting to survive breeding an adulthood where said concept was all but played out. Fighting everyday just to reach the end of your youth to find it doesn't get better. All you do now is scrape by with more burdens.

However, every time you feel those burdens weighing you down you remember that you had two people who were rooting for you to push back. Even with your doubts on if they still want you or not, a tiny part of you still holds onto hope that they do, and that's all that seems to be keeping you from the edge.

It'd been an entire sixteen hours since you last left your bed, every muscle in your body ached as you failed to utilize them, and there was also this really intense pressure on your bladder. Still, you generally found yourself unmoving, but then the air kicked on and you were aware of the stench you were apparently exuding.

Shockingly enough you were repulsed so badly by your own stench that you now found yourself standing still in the bathroom while the tap runs freezing cold water into the tub. Your lovers paid the bills, but in your mind you were undeserving of the hot water they funded. Cold water was a punishment you were worthy of, and so you entered the tub without a shiver; you didn't deserve to express your discomfort.

You watched the spout with an unwavering intensity, observing as the droplets of residual water fell about every forty five seconds. The minuscule sound of them rippling into the water reminding you of the way the crimson droplets of the past used to drip onto the tile flooring from your arms. Temptation is at its absolute precipice here, but then you start to see flashes of them with every single drip...

Drip...

The flash of crimson against a murky yellow tile fades from your mind fast. It's replaced by Wanda's smiling face and calm voice., "You're stronger than your thoughts are detka..."

Drip...

Your lip quivers as you see the oozing marks on your arms, too deep for your own patching up, you felt that familiarity; cold. When you blink you're quickly thrown into another memory. Natasha's arm is over your abdomen as she hums and smiles down at you, your attention slowly shifts to the opening door to see Wanda with a tray of food, and a wide grin; warmth.

Drip...

"Moya lyubov', I'm so proud of you.," Natasha cheers while placing soft lips to your faded scars before pulling you into a tight hug.

The last memory had felt so real, your wet body trembling as it imagined the pressure of a hug. Tears now befell your cheeks, but this time they were different as you now felt a glimpse of hope for the first time in two weeks. Their love was everything to you, and it was what guided you out of the cold tub, and what allowed your fingers to drop the untainted blade into a bin.

—

Natasha was thrashing about in the hotel bed, her mind wandering back to the night they left. Nothing felt right in her chest when she thinks of how sad you looked when they left in a huff. Angry words were muttered in the heat of the moment over shit that held no significance. Everyday that went by on this no contact mission led to a deepening sense of dread for the both of them. So much so that the top agent willing broke Shield protocols for you.

They tried to use a pay phone to call you, but you expectantly didn't answer, and they've been feeling even more uneasy ever since. Calling anyone else would've given themselves away, but now that she's staring at the ceiling of this dingy hotel room she reasons it would have been the smart thing to do regardless.

"I feel this tightness in my chest Natasha...," Wanda winces as she sits down beside her., "Something's wrong, and I'm not going to just ignore this and stay here two more weeks."

Natasha only nodded, hers was more akin to a deep pit in her stomach, but it was a definite sign that this mission was to be abandoned., "Let's go home.," she extended her hand out for her love, then guided her out to the incognito jet that was already holding their belongings.

—

It wasn't much—you knew that, but you were actually proud of yourself for being here at all.

Stood in the kitchen, dressed in Nat's sweats, and Wanda's oversized t-shirt you stared warily at the egg that was sizzling in the frying pan. Days had gone by since you last ate, so it was a daunting challenge to eat at all at this point. Fears of throwing it back up as your body is prone to retaliating against you in such ways consume your entire being leading you now to the safest bet you have—an unseasoned egg.

The crackling over the stove leaves your tired mind a bit preoccupied as the front door creaks open. Natasha enters first, followed quickly by the frantic witch who's heart momentarily settles at the sight of you cooking some food. The peace doesn't last long though when she fails to hear your thoughts, the emptiness in your head a frightening bout of deja vu.

Last time you were this calm they nearly lost you, and that wasn't a reality ever worth facing.

Natasha clued in to your state as well, her eyes roamed your body, taking notice of the way you had clearly thinned out in such a short time. Adding onto that the way you left your hair a sopping mess, and the lack of length on your nails she knew you'd been here suffering alone.

The women shared a moment of sorrowful eye contact, the witches lip trembling, but the former assassin shook her head—not now... Wanda nodded, then the pair made their way over to your rigid form, and as softly as she could Wanda laid her hand over your very own.

"Detka.," her word was a whisper that drew an audible whimper from your throat., "It's okay."

It wasn't really, you all knew that, but you all also knew that now that you're all together again that it would be fine eventually, and well quite frankly that had to count for something because if not, you were all left with nothing.

"Come here love, let me handle your hair...," Natasha coo'd in your ear as she gently guided you out of the kitchen and up to your room., "Sit down at the vanity for me please detka.," her voice was soft as ever so that she wouldn't startle you, she even smiled at you too for good measure, and though you couldn't return it just yet she saw the gratefulness within your orbs.

Natasha entered the bathroom with the intent to collect your brush, along with a variety of products for your hair and skin. The mess on the floor was overlooked completely as she rummaged around, but she stopped in her tracks when the lights reflected off something. Her hands trembled as she dropped the products in the sink before reaching for the trash can by the door., "Please, no, no, no..."

The truth became clear as she lifted the metal from the trash, a few tears fell from her eyes at the reality of what they were dealing with here. Thoughts of what could've become of you sends her tumbling to her knees, choking back her sobs because you didn't need more burdening, a tear falls atop the blade, and that's when she notices how easily it cascades off the metal.

The closer she observes the piece she realizes that there were no traces of blood on it, and no uncleaned stains along the tiles or sink either. It's enough to stop her tears, but the damage to her heart and psyche had already been done. The Russian rushes out of your joint bathroom, the need to be with you imminent, and when she finally reaches you she feels the need to hug you tightly, but she fears it might be too much too soon for you to handle.

Natasha set a hand on your shoulder, a clear yet non startling sign to you that she returned., "I'm going to blow dry your hair, then I'll put it up in a bun.," you shook your head., "Braids?," she tried again, and to her relief you nodded. The redhead went slowly, her hands gentle as they tousled through your wet locks, moving the hair around to aide the machine drying it.

After the hair was faintly damp she began to separate the strands meticulously, her eyes double focused as she caught ever tick of your face as she worked to tightly braid your hair. There was a ghost of a smile on your face when she scratched at your scalp affectionately, and her heart fluttered in her chest at the first sign of you coming back to them., "All done love."

"Detka, can I take your hoodie off please?," you looked at her warily, but eventually nodded., "Thank you.," she smiled softly at you even though her mind was screaming at her to hurry and make sure you were okay. At the sight of your unmarred skin she knew you were, her shoulders tension instantly eased up. Once you were slyly assessed Nat went into the hallway to collect her favorite hoodie from the dryer., "Arms up.," she gently commanded, and then she smiled when you groaned appreciatively.

"Now what?," she was shocked to hear your voice this soon, there was an obvious scratch to it from being inactive for several days, but it didn't effect the way she nearly burst into tears at hearing you speak., "Whatever you need.," the tears nearly won out though as she reached out to cup your cheek and you didn't evade her.

"C-can we please cuddle?," you looked at her with the most pitiful gaze, there was an air of embarrassment in them that left her a bit unsettled, but she still took your initiation of physical affection as a good sign that you were headed in the right direction., "Of course moya lyubov', sounds absolutely heavenly to me."

Natasha laid down first, pulling back the blanket she gave you all the autonomy here. Because though she was desperate to hold you, she also knew you were in a fragile headspace. She watched carefully as you slumped into a prominent dent in the mattress, her arms were now resting besides her body in wait for you. Without any words you used your hands to guide her flat onto her back, then after laying atop of her with your head over her chest you squeezed her arm., "Please hold me Natty."

Strong arms wrapped around your body in an instant, her hand was now resting over your head to hold you in place while she hummed along to your most favorite of her lullabies., "Sweet dreams pretty girl...," her hands never stopped rubbing calming circles into your back, and it wasn't long before you were snoring.

It wasn't until an hour later that Wanda quietly entered your shared bedroom., "What is it?," the witch lifted the tray into her lovers eye line, while hers fell to your currently relaxed face., "How long has she been out for Nat?," the redhead murmured her response of an hour while moving to rouse you awake, but Wanda reached out to stop her so she could do it.

"My sweet girl, time to wake up for me please.," her arms wrapped around your body as you shifted ever so slightly, she lifted you from Nat's body and settled you in her lap instead., "I brought you lots of different options honey, we know you're scared, but please try to eat."

Natasha was sat before you with the tray, she playfully waved food before your face to feel it out, her eyes watched your face for the slightest bit of intrigue, and she found that the apple dipped in peanut butter and yogurt chips seemed to win you over., "Here love.," you softly munched on the snack while instinctively l settling deeper into Wanda's embrace, and missing the way the pair were staring at you.

"How about these cucumbers in ranch, hm?," you allowed her to feed this one to you, your heart soon fluttering back to life at the sight of her emotionally charged smile, and also at the feel of Wanda's soft lips against your hairline., "Can you eat a little more for me angel?," you nodded against her chest, then accepted a few more bites of the varying foods until you knew you'd reached your bodies ultimate limit.

As Natasha carried the tray down to the kitchen Wanda continued to hold you close, rocking you in an attempt to soothe your soul. It had even appeared to be working when she felt your breathes evening out, but then she heard you gasping, and it was near painful for her to see you breaking down so candidly.

"I-I'm sorry.," her entire body froze as you not only spoke, but you felt the need to apologize., "No, detka we're the sorry ones here. We not only yelled at you due to our misguided anger, but then we left you all alone without so much as an apology or even a bit of reassurance."

"You didn't deserve that my sweetest love.," her lips tenderly pressed against your tear soaked cheeks., "So please don't apologize to us.," she then laid you down in the middle of the bed., "Let us apologize to you instead, we'll make it up to you, I promise...," her forehead was now pressed to yours, and your heart was cracking as her tears mixed with yours on your cheeks.

"We will, and we just hope you'll forgive us.," Natasha softly adds as she enters the bed, and masterfully pulls the both of you closer to her., "You're our entire world detka, the most precious thing we've ever called ours, and we will never leave you alone like this ever again."

"Nat—.," Wanda kissed your lips to cut you off., "She means it detka, no more joint missions, the promise isn't a fable—it's the truth, because if anything were to happen to you we wouldn't survive Y/N.," her voice cracked, and a steady stream of her tears befell your cheeks again. "Losing you would be devastating for us detka."

"I-I'm not going anywhere.," you sounded so small, like a meek little worker bee trying to impress the queen, but there was also a small flash of determination in your eyes that was caught by the both of them as they adoringly looked at you., "I promise I'm here to stay."

"Thank you detka, for fighting to stay, we know it's hard, but we're so freaking proud of you.," Wanda's lips lovingly pressed to yours, she just needed to feel the familiar touch she desired., "So gosh damn proud love.," Natasha agreed before taking her own chance to kiss you.

Neither of them stayed on your lips for long, they didn't want to overwhelm you at all, but fortunately for them you seemed content with the affection as you sighed softly and smiled softly as you melted back into the mattress.

There was no overnight fix for you here, they both knew that come tomorrow you'll be back in a vulnerable state, but the only difference is they will be there for you when you awake numbed. Natasha will be there to rock you in the morning when you wake up crying, and again at night, as she sings to you for as long as you need to fall asleep, and Wanda will be your hands as she bathes you, and feeds you when you can't manage to do the tasks on your own.

They'll be there to love you back to life every day until being a person again comes naturally, because even just one moment of happiness with you is worth a hundred bad days to them.

—————

[babyy-rhett-x3]

🚀⭐️ hiya! This is my agere acc intro! Pls read! (^o^) 🌙🛸 (I sadly lost my old one babi puppy:()

Name: Rhett

★

Nicknames: Bud, Mister, Little one

(P.s I rlly do pref nicknames! They make me feel safe & little ( >ω<) )

★

Pronouns:

He/Him/His ☆ They/Them/Theirs

It/Its/Itself ☆ Star/Stars/Starself

Moon/Moons/Moonself

Xey/Xem/Xeirs ☆ Zey/Zem/Zeirs

Pup/Pups/Pupself

Paw/Paws/Pawself || + more!!

★

Gender: Transgender Male + Neo genderz!

★

Little Age: 1 to 10 (´ρ`)

★

Big age: 16

★

What to expect on this account?: Me & my alters posting/reblogging! We're an osdd-1b sys ( ＾ω＾ )

I'm also a flip regressor! Meaning I agere & am a caregiver at the same time!

I also have autism, adhd, & more

☾ 𖦹 𖦹 𖦹 𖦹 𖦹 𖦹 ☽

Likes:

Colouring / Drawing

Arts n Crafts (o＾・＾o)

Playing w plushies, toys, sensory bin fidgets

LED lights & light up stuff

Glow in the dark stuff! (o´▽`o)

Baking & cooking w caregiver

Watching TV shows (^o^)

Naps (´ρ`)💤

Movies

Falling asleep on nighttime car rides

Sippys, Bottles, Pacis, Onsies, PJS! >:3

Snack plates

Making snacks

CHOCO & STRAWBERRY MILKK! (>ω<)

Baths

Bedtime Stories

Space (　・ω・) 🚀🛸🌙🌌

★

Dislikes:

Veggies (-。-;)

Bright Rooms/Lights

Flashy stuff

Horror games (when small only tho!)

Horror movies

Scary noises/sounds

Pitch black rooms

Being Alone for long periods of time

★

My fav TV shows (+ Fav Characters! (>o<)

Spongebob (Spongebob, Patrick, Gary, Squidward, Mr Krabs)

MLP (Fluttershy, Pinkie, RainbowDash)

Bluey (Chilli, Bluey, Muffin

Teen Titans Go (Raven, Beastboy, Cyborg)

The Fairly Oddparents (Cosmo & Wanda, Timmy, Poof)

Yo Gabba Gabba (Muno, Plex, Toodee)

The Loud House (Clyde, Lola, Luna)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Ralph, Michelangelo)

Fanboy & Chumchum (Fanboy)

Clearance (Main 3)

Summer Camp Island (no pref)

The Regular Show (Rigby, Pops)

Craig Of The Creek (Main 3)

The Amazing World Of Gumball (Darwin, Gumball, Nicole)

Pocoyo (Pocoyo, Pato, Loula, Caterpillar, Angry Alien)

Wonder Pets (no pref)

Phineas & Ferb (Ferb, Perry, Dr evil doufensmurchs (something like that..)

Dinosaur Train (no pref)

Masha & The Bear (Masha, Bear, Wolves)

Peppa Pig (no pref)

ni-hao kai-lan (no pref)

Jhonny Test (Jhonny, Dukey, the twins)

★

My Fav Movies (´ρ`)

Astro Boy

Spongebob Movie

MLP Movie

Happy Feet

Madagascar (all of them)

Cloudy w a chance of meatballs

Ice age

Chicken Run

Monsters inc

Charlotte's web

Finding Nemo

Disney movies especially lady & the tramp

☾ 𖦹 𖦹 𖦹 𖦹 𖦹 𖦹 ☽

DNI.

● pedophiles

● zoophiles

● pro shippers

● pro ANA/ED

● racists

● abliests

● homophobes

● transphobes

● anti agere/petre

● fakeclaimers

● anti therian/otherkin

● anti furry

● anti neo prns / neo genders

༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚

PLZZ INTERACT:3

● Other Age / Pet Regressors

● Other Systems (only if ur acc is for Littles only tho sorry!!)

● Space, Alien, Star lovers

● REGRETEVATOR FANZ!

● PRESSURE FANZ

● Caregiver/Agereg/Petreg tip accs

● Anyone who isn't NSFW or mean!! >:333

To find out more abt us/me, go to my main acc! But it isn't SFW (but also isnt full on nsfw) ! Be warned<3

@rh3tt-x3

[f3maled0g]

“What’s eating you?”

Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader

Warnings - We live in a society, allusions to sex, innuendos.

Summary - Gurl I dunno.

A/N: Don’t repost, re-blogs are absolutely fine

—————

“Pevensie!”

There you appeared with a moonshine induced stagger. One could have sworn Edmund Pevensie’s eyes shone. He quickly assumed his original demeanour. Cold and unbothered, although now with a certain lightness to his shoulders. All the while, you made your boisterous trek to his spot, sporting a lopsided grin.

“Hello,” you sung, albeit badly.

He released an audible humph.

“Geez, something crawl up your trousers, old boy?”

“Okay.” Edmund raised a brow. Then, another.

You paused, maintaining deadly serious eye contact as if about to divulge the most sordid goss.

“What’s eating you?”

“Excuse me?”

“The phrase,” you jabbed at an explanation. “What’s bothering you?”

“In what world are you from where they use that euphemism?”

“Give a girl a break, concern is the most honourable gift I’ve ever bestowed upon anyone,” you returned a salute.

He scanned your hopeful countenance with a critical eye and took a generous swig of brown from a suddenly procured flask in his hand. Ed sighs, his thoughts muffled by the wild clamour of teenagers coupled with the cantankerous ambience that parties generally possessed without fail.

“So,” you inhaled, teetering on the edge of a conversation doomed for death. “Wanna get out of here?”

His lips twitched with a growing smile at the sight of your determined look in his periphery, more than prepared to bolt at the door. Not that you ever noticed the subtle glances, after all, stoicism was his magnum opus while yours ignorant bliss.

“Suit yourself,” you concluded with a shrug and waltzed out the exit and Edmund felt obligated to follow, legs mechanically willing themselves in your direction. Someone had to look out for you.

Just when he thought he’d lost you, Edmund found you leaning against the stout wood of an old oak. You bathed in the staple warmth of summer air, skin set aglow by the moonlight streaming through cracks of the foliage.

“You know, it’s considered rude to stare.” You whispered with closed eyes, conscious of his burning scrutiny.

He lingered at a comfortable distance from you, enraptured by your surreal tranquillity. Your eyes fluttered open, the reflection of the moon evident in your dilated pupils. He drew closer, your presence willing him to motion, like a magnet, until he was close enough to hear the rhythmic pattern of your breath.

The proximity was agonising, enticingly so. Your tangibility rushed him into a confused frenzy. He wanted to touch you. Worship the deity that you were. Longing nagged at him. How was it you were so close yet out of reach? It was aggravating. You were aggravating and this puzzle could only be solved in one way.

You looked at him through your lashes, a haziness dancing across your face. “What’s eating you, Pevensie?”

What passed in the moment was a blur.

Edmund stood before you, obscuring the view of the moon. You tilted your head, the bare slope of your neck appeared so inviting. It took everything to restrain himself. To maintain his resolve. But if you would just ask nicely, sweetly. Edmund’s heart would yield.

Your stare was a siren call to him. Beckoning and beckoning. It seemed his heart was not the only appendage at your beck and call. Edmund’s hands had a mind of their own and commanded forward. You bristled, the grip snaking around your waist shook your guard.

“Is this o-”

“Yes,” you gasped, much like a fish out of water.

Edmund chuckled, “You didn’t even let me finish, love.”

“In the biblical sense, I just might if you got on with it already.”

Seriously, you were rushing this? He pictured this a little differently, wanting to take his time with the pretty thing before him and explore the contours of your soul. After all, not only was Edmund Pevensie a fighter but a lover too.

Impatient hands latched onto his shirt collar, willing him forward and flush against you. The contact stirred something deep within your lower belly, something reserved only for him. He kissed you hard, then pulled away, noses nudging each other’s. You smiled, baring your teeth with closed eyes.

“Y/N,” Edmund breathed, “Look at me.”

“Hmm?”

“I like you, alright?”

“Alright. I like you too.”

Resolve broken.

You laughed heartily. “So, why don’t you just get it over with, buddy boy?”

“Buddy boy, huh?” He pulled away, extending a hand to pull you from the mighty oak. “You really are something.”

“Thanks a bunch, Eds,” you scoffed, jutting your tongue out. “Not only am I aroused, but aroused and disappointed.”

You turned to leave but Edmund stopped you.

“Listen, it’s not that. I just-”

“Are you a virgin?” you deadpanned, “Is that what this is?”

Edmund pouted, wounded. You raised two brows.

Ignoring the blow to his ego, he pressed on, “I just want to take my time with you, is all.”

Oh. You warmed from the explanation.

“So, that’s what’s been bothering you.”

You approached again and this time planted a kiss on his cheek, his face unusually ruddy from the affection.

“Well, at least let me take you home?” he suggested.

“I do have a curfew.”

“So, about the sex…” you began, looping an arm around his.

Edmund rolled his eyes, “Name the date.”

[mononijikayu]

chapter one  — violetta and alfredo.

Every detail of her being held captive in a cascade of enchantment. Her beauty was a symphony of nature's finest elements, a composition that left him spellbound. Her hair, reminiscent of the morning light that kissed the shores and painted the sky, framed her visage in a halo of radiance. Eyes, bright and vibrant like the ever-changing hues of autumn leaves, mirrored the lively spirit of the earth's vast wild plains. Bathed in the moonlight, she seemed to emanate the very essence of life, casting out darkness with the light it needed to thrive.

Genre: No Curses Au!, 1800s Royalty AU!

Warning/s: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pinning, One - Sided Romance, Royalty, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Courting, Arranged Marriage;

masterlist

note: almost 12k words,,,,,,it seems im back to my old way of writing. its just that type of life i suppose. anyway, enjoy!!! i hope this makes up for ghost of you!!! i love you!!!

SHE THINKS THAT THE SIGHT OF A CITY LIKE THIS WAS MARVELOUS. The anticipation of the journey ahead filled her with a sense of excitement and wonder, her mind drifting to the possibilities that lay beyond the distant river. Lost in her daydreams, she imagined the adventures that awaited them on the other side, eager to explore the unknown.

However, her reverie was abruptly interrupted as she was pulled back to reality by the need to change into a new outfit. Her brother, Yu, was busy preparing for the journey as well, and she knew he must be equally disguised to blend in with the crowds. Yet despite the preparations, Yu seemed adamant about reuniting with his old friends from his academy days, particularly Lord Nanami, whom he held in high esteem.

The arrival of nobles from distant lands to celebrate the king's birthday added an air of caution to their travels. Father would undoubtedly be furious if he knew they were embarking on such a journey without proper precautions. However, Yu had planned their departure a day early, anticipating potential delays due to weather or other unforeseen circumstances.

Yu's thoughtful consideration for their well-being touched her deeply, a testament to his generous nature amidst the complexities of their world. She cherished his kindness above all else, a beacon of light in the darkness of the Jujutsu world. As they prepared to embark on their journey, she couldn't help but feel grateful for her brother's meticulousness in all of this.

Yu's decision to choose an inn east of the city, known for its discretion and privacy, was a thoughtful one, reflecting his understanding of their preferences. He took great care to ensure their privacy would be maintained by organizing the departure of all men in small groups, minimizing the risk of drawing attention to their presence.

She departed with the servants first, allowing Yu to bring up the rear and oversee the process without causing any delays. As they approached the inn, named 'Cherry Merry,' she couldn't help but giggle at the whimsical name. Yet, the sweet scent of cherry blossoms that enveloped the room upon their arrival immediately charmed her, offering a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the capital.

The simplicity of the room, adorned with cherry-colored sheets and subtle hints of silver, resonated with her taste. The presence of two large lamps on either side of the bed, accompanied by round tables, added a touch of elegance to the space. A small desk awaited her, adorned with quills resting atop clean white parchments, and a bottle of ink enclosed in a glass cylinder, inviting her to immerse herself in creativity.

Despite the temptation to open the wide windows that flanked the bed, she hesitated, mindful of the need to maintain their privacy. The unlit fireplace, filled with fresh logs scented with cherry blossom, added to the cozy ambiance of the room, creating a serene retreat for them amidst the chaos of the outside world.

Her luggage sat neatly arranged on the edge of the bed, a silent testament to her presence in the room. Embellishments adorning her belongings hinted at her noble lineage, with the wide heron's head emblem proudly displayed. It was a symbol of the once illustrious lineage of their clan, now revitalized by her brother's lordship. Their family's fate had been lackluster for years, overshadowed by the repercussions of siding with the wrong faction in the previous war. Whispers of their father's shortcomings echoed through the halls of Jujutsu society's higher echelons, yet her brother's tireless efforts had begun to mend their tarnished reputation.

Despite the weight of their family's history resting heavily on her shoulders, she found solace in the unspoken understanding between her and her brother. He never asked for her assistance, preferring to shoulder the burden alone, but she knew that her role extended beyond mere appearances. It was a duty she willingly embraced, masking her inner turmoil with a facade of poise and grace whenever required.

Raised in the sheltered confines of Haibara's distant ashy meadows, she had always felt stifled by the constraints of her noble upbringing. The societal expectations of a lady felt suffocating, constraining her desire for freedom and autonomy. Deep down, she yearned to break free from the shackles of her status, to embrace a life unrestrained by societal norms.

Her brother, understanding and empathetic, would have readily granted her that freedom had she asked. But she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone in their struggle for redemption. They were each other's pillars of support, their unwavering bond the only constant in an uncertain world. If she were to leave, he would be left to navigate the treacherous waters of politics and power alone. The mere thought brought a pang of guilt to her heart, a silent reminder of the sacrifices she made for her brother's sake.

As she stood at the threshold of her room, lost in her thoughts, Kusakabe's voice broke through the silence, drawing her attention. She turned to face him, the weight of her contemplation evident in her eyes.

“You alright, little one?” He asks her, taking a place by her side.

"I'm fine, just... there is much in my mind, Kusakabe," she confessed, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I have no business being here."

Kusakabe nodded in understanding, his expression reflecting a sense of empathy. "No," he agreed solemnly, "but it is the king’s invitation. King Satoru insists on everyone being there to celebrate his birthday. And he likes your brother enough. Shielded both of you from the elders.”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but sigh in resignation. “I know that much. But I was happy at home, you know.”

"Quite obvious, little lady," Kusakabe chuckled softly, "But isn’t this your introduction to society?”

Her shoulders slumped slightly as she contemplated his words. "Not what I want. I’ll never hear the end of society if I show up.”

Kusakabe's laughter rang out, a warm and familiar sound that eased the tension in the air. “Hm, I suppose you won’t.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, enveloped in their own thoughts. Then, with a gentle smile, Kusakabe approached her, reaching out to tuck a misplaced strand of her hair behind her ear. "I can’t believe you’re already so grown up. I never thought I’d ever be watching both you and your brother like this.”

Atsuya Kusakabe had been a steadfast presence in their lives, standing by their family through thick and thin. From the siege of their family home to the challenges they faced in their daily lives, he had always been there, protecting them with unwavering loyalty. 

A few years older, he had been taken in by their father when he was gravely injured on the streets, offering him freedom in exchange for his service to the family. Since then, he had become an indispensable part of their lives, more like an elder brother than a servant. His dedication and loyalty had earned him their trust and respect, making him an integral part of their family.

"This is so new to me," She mused, a hint of wonder in her voice.

"Hm? What is?" He inquired, turning to regard her with mild curiosity.

"Atsuya would not say this. This is certainly not you," She replied with a playful grin, causing him to chuckle and nod in agreement.

He rolled his eyes affectionately, pinching her cheek. "You are ever so cheeky like this. Brazen even. A man would not stand a chance, I fear."

"Who needs a man anyway?" she retorted, her grin widening mischievously. "Yu would be happy to keep me at home as a spinster. Would you not be happy about that too?

He sighed softly, a wistful expression crossing his features. "It’s not that I wouldn’t be happy to keep you at home with us. It’s just that… don’t you want that life too?"

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, contemplating his words. "What do you mean?"

"You know, falling in love. Being happy. Having your own family," He explained gently, his gaze searching hers.

"But you guys are my family," She replied sincerely, her voice filled with warmth. "I’m content with that."

He sighed, nodding in understanding. "I can’t argue with that."

She smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. Now, go and eat something. You must be famished after being stuck with me."

He laughed, the sound echoing with fondness. "As if. Go back to your room too, little one. You need to rest before we resume our journey."

With a playful wink, she nodded in agreement. "Alright, Atsuya. I'll see you later."

As he departed, she remained standing in the hallway for a moment, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. The conversation with Atsuya had stirred something within her, prompting her to reflect on her own desires and aspirations.

What comes next?

What is there to be for her?

She sighed, pondering.

What is there for a woman?

IT WASN’T LONG WHEN THE THOUGHTS OVERWHELMED HER. Heading back to her room, she couldn't help but ponder the notion of love and family. While she cherished the bond she shared with her brother and uncle, she couldn't deny the faint tug of curiosity about what it might be like to experience romantic love and create a family of her own.

Settling into her room, she allowed herself to daydream for a moment, envisioning a future where she found someone who cherished her just as much as her family did. But for now, she was content to enjoy the present moment and the journey ahead with her beloved brother and their sworn sword by her side.

As the hours stretched on with little to occupy her mind, she found herself grappling with an unrelenting sense of boredom. Initially, she attempted to immerse herself in the books she had brought along, eagerly flipping through the pages in search of diversion. However, the stories she once found captivating now felt dull and predictable, failing to hold her interest for long.

Turning to another favorite pastime, she reached for her writing materials, hoping to channel her restlessness into creative expression. Yet, as she attempted to weave words into poetry, she found her thoughts scattered and uninspired, unable to summon the eloquence that usually flowed effortlessly from her pen.

With a heavy sigh, she leaned back against the soft cushions of her seat, her gaze drifting aimlessly towards the ceiling. The emptiness of the room seemed to mirror the void within her, amplifying her sense of ennui and prompting a restless stirring within her soul. She knew she couldn't bear another moment of this oppressive boredom and resolved to find something, anything, to occupy her mind and soothe her restless spirit.

Frustrated by her inability to find solace in either reading or writing, she rose from her seat with determination, determined to seek out an activity that would banish her boredom once and for all. Casting a quick glance around the room, her eyes fell upon a familiar object tucked away in a corner – a beautifully crafted chess set.

A spark of excitement ignited within her as she approached the set, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings of the chess pieces. Chess had always been a favorite pastime of hers, a game of strategy and intellect that never failed to captivate her mind.

With a smile of anticipation, she carefully set up the chessboard, arranging the pieces in their starting positions. As she settled into her seat, her mind focused solely on the challenge that lay before her, she felt a sense of purpose and excitement wash over her, replacing the oppressive boredom that had plagued her earlier.

Lost in the intricacies of the game, she relished the mental stimulation it provided, each move calculated and strategic. The hours flew by in a blur of intense concentration, her boredom forgotten as she immersed herself in the timeless battle of wits that unfolded upon the chessboard.

By the time she emerged victorious from her match, her mind felt alive and invigorated, the lingering traces of boredom banished by the exhilarating thrill of the game. 

But the problem is she keeps winning.

She could only pout as she looked at the pieces.

She needed to get out of here.

She needed to not be bored.

IT WASN’T LONG WHEN SHE STARTED TO PREPARE TO LEAVE. As she rummaged through her belongings, her heart raced with excitement, her hands trembling with anticipation. She knew exactly what she was searching for, and when her fingers finally closed around the familiar handle of her fishing rod, a triumphant smile spread across her face. With the rucksack in hand, she practically danced towards the door, her mind already envisioning the peaceful tranquility of the nearby river.

However, her excitement was quickly tempered by the realization that there were guards stationed just outside her door, their watchful presence a constant reminder of her restricted freedom. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she opened the door and greeted the guards with a polite nod, masking her inner turmoil behind a facade of composure.

Engaging the guards in casual conversation, she deftly maneuvered the conversation towards the topic of their well-being, using her charm and wit to subtly persuade them to accept her offer of refreshment. With a gracious smile, she produced a handful of gold coins from the folds of her dressage, insisting that they indulge in a well-deserved respite.

Despite their initial protests, the guards ultimately yielded to her request, their reluctance overshadowed by the implicit threat of consequences should they defy her wishes. As they hurriedly departed to enjoy their brief reprieve, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at her ability to wield her influence and power when necessary.

With the guards temporarily distracted, she seized the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, her heart pounding with exhilaration as she embarked on her impromptu adventure to the river. As she made her way through the lush foliage, the sound of the rushing water growing louder with each step, she felt a sense of liberation wash over her, reveling in the freedom that came from defying the constraints of her gilded cage.

After swiftly changing into a simple ensemble to minimize the risk of being recognized, the lady deftly attended to her own attire without the need for assistance. With no ladies-in-waiting at her beck and call, she completed her dressing with practiced efficiency, braiding her hair before adorning herself with a scarlet hat that lent a touch of flair to her ensemble. A satisfied smile graced her lips as she appraised her reflection in the mirror, pleased with her appearance.

With nimble fingers, she quickly assembled her fishing rod, drawing upon her past experience to complete the task with ease. Gathering her essentials into a rucksack, she prepared for her impromptu adventure, ensuring she had everything she needed for a pleasant outing.

As she made her way down the stairs, she maintained a cautious vigilance, scanning her surroundings to avoid any encounters with the guards stationed throughout the manor. Concealing her face with the rucksack, she felt her heart quicken with nervous anticipation, yet her determination propelled her forward, undeterred by the prospect of potential obstacles.

Stepping out onto the stone cobbled street, she relished the sensation of her sturdy hunting boots against the pavement, the familiar weight grounding her as she embarked on her excursion. Despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach, a wide smile graced her features as she set out to seize the day, eager to immerse herself in the adventure that awaited her.

"Excuse me," she called out to a passing man, his long white beard and merchant's attire marking him as a familiar sight in the bustling capital. "Good man, I do not mean to disturb your morning, but could you tell me the way to the river?"

The man regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and surprise, but he quickly nodded in response. "Yes, uh, it's to the left, to the left."

"To the left, to the left," she repeated with a grateful smile. "Thank you, good sir!"

With a nod of acknowledgment, the man continued on his way, leaving her to begin her adventure.

As she made her way through the narrow streets, the vibrant energy of the capital enveloped her. She walked amidst a sea of people, each engaged in their own activities—selling, trading, and going about their daily lives. The sidewalks were bustling with activity, and makeshift markets sprang up along the paved pathways, offering a colorful array of goods and wares.

With her fishing rod in hand, she navigated through the crowd, her senses alive with the sights, sounds, and smells of the bustling city. The beauty of the capital unfolded before her, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the adventure that lay ahead.

As she strolled through the lively streets, the warm rays of the sun bathed the city in a golden glow, casting a cheerful ambiance over the bustling scene. People of all ages and walks of life meandered along the cobblestone pathways, some leisurely enjoying the sunshine while others bustled about their daily tasks.

Mothers cradled their infants in their arms, their laughter mingling with the cheerful chatter of couples strolling hand in hand. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting from nearby bakeries, tempting passersby with its irresistible scent. Old taverns, steeped in history and tradition, stood as silent witnesses to the passage of time, their weathered facades echoing tales of days long gone.

Amidst the historic landmarks, she spotted newer establishments springing up, each one a testament to the city's vibrant spirit of innovation. A quaint watchmaker's corner caught her eye, its storefront adorned with a freshly painted sign that gleamed in the sunlight. Intrigued, she stepped inside and browsed the assortment of finely crafted timepieces on display, marveling at the meticulous craftsmanship.

After making her selections, she continued on her way, her steps quickening with anticipation as she approached a bustling market stall. There, she purchased provisions for her fishing expedition—a selection of bait and tackle, as well as a loaf of freshly baked bread and a refreshing cup of lemonade imported from distant lands. With her supplies in hand, she set off once more, eager to embark on her outdoor adventure along the riverbank.

As she wandered through the city streets, she couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the simplicity of the lives she observed around her. The ordinary people she passed seemed content with their everyday concerns—finding love, pursuing careers, and building homes—without the burdens of status and expectation that weighed heavily on her own shoulders. Despite her privileged position as a high-ranking woman, she envied their freedom from the constraints imposed by societal norms and familial obligations.

Pushing aside these thoughts, she focused on her quest to find the river. With a warm smile and friendly greetings, she attempted to engage with the locals she encountered along the way, despite their wary and hesitant responses to her unfamiliar appearance. Clad in a dark velvet gown adorned with feathers, she stood out amidst the crowd, a foreign presence in their midst.

After a half-hour journey, she finally reached the riverbank, her eyes lighting up with delight at the sight before her. The calm waters of the river flowed gently, reflecting the blue sky above like a mirror. The riverbed, dotted with large and small stones, created a mesmerizing contrast against the water's dark hue. The peaceful ambiance of the surroundings made her feel as if she had stumbled upon a hidden sanctuary, a tranquil oasis amidst the bustling cityscape.

Setting aside her fishing rod, she retrieved a bag of worms from her rucksack and carefully baited the hook, following the instructions her brother had taught her. With a practiced hand, she cast her line into the water, watching with anticipation as it disappeared beneath the surface. Standing on the edge of the rocky outcrop, surrounded by nature's beauty, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, as if all her worries and cares had been momentarily suspended in the gentle flow of the river.

As she focused on fishing, memories of her childhood with her brother Yu flooded her mind. She recalled the days spent by the riverbank, learning the art of fishing from him. Yu, ever the resourceful and creative one, had fashioned her first fishing rod from sturdy sticks he had whittled down with his trusty knife. With a few modifications and some ingenuity, he had transformed the simple sticks into functional fishing rods, complete with thin wiring and metal hooks.

The nostalgia of those carefree days brought a bittersweet smile to her lips as she waited for a bite. Suddenly, she felt a sharp tug on her fishing rod, jolting her back to the present moment. Excitement surged through her as she realized she had caught a fish. With a surge of adrenaline, she gripped the rod tightly and began to reel it in, feeling the familiar thrill of the catch.

However, in her eagerness to land the fish, she pulled too hard, causing the fishing rod to slip from her grasp. With a gasp of surprise, she watched in dismay as the rod flew behind her, caught on something unseen. The sound of horses nearby startled her, and she froze in panic, holding onto the rod as she tried to free it from whatever it had become entangled with.

"You, woman with the fishing rod, how dare you fish here?" The voice boomed, causing her to whirl around and face two men on horseback. One was a tall, lean figure with sandy brown hair, his expression stern and disapproving. The other remained calm atop his horse, her fishing rod's edge snagged in his cloak. She gasped in realization.

"Oh, dear god! Please don't move," she pleaded, releasing her grip on the fishing rod and hastily reaching for her rucksack. With trembling hands, she retrieved a small pocket knife and rushed towards the two men on horseback, her heart pounding with urgency. She felt tall enough to reach the cloak and was about to cut it when the redheaded man stopped her. “Let me help you, my lord!”

"How dare you point a blade at the king’s high minister, you lowly woman?" he bellowed, dismounting from his horse and restraining her.

"Ino, there is no need for such fury over a trivial matter," the blond man interjected calmly. "We inadvertently interrupted her fishing. She has every right to be here. It is open to the public. That’s the purpose."

The man, named Ino, bowed his head slowly. “Forgive me, my lord.”

"The king’s high minister?" Her breath caught as she locked eyes with him, her gaze meeting his soft brown eyes behind green-tinted goggles. Yu will not let her hear the end of this with his teasing. She should have known who he was. 

He was handsome, far more than her brother had described. She glanced at the brown-haired man and attempted to free herself, but he confiscated the knife. Rolling her eyes at his overreaction, she focused on removing the hook from the minister's cloak.

Then she got down on her knees in a curtsey she had always known to do, her eyes averting the minister's gaze nervously as the man with red hair looked at her with proud demeanor. She had never seen Nanami Kento before. The times he visited their family’s estate, she would be out visiting Utahime in her family’s estate. She purses her lips, looking at him. But ending up flustered, cheeks colored scarlet.

He was very handsome, a bright burning star in an already bright sky. So bright that no one could even outshine him. His primed blond locks were neatly pleated on the side of his head. Dressed in a silver uniform, he looked ever so formal — Yu had said he never wore anything else but his military uniform. She wondered if he did this every day, walking and riding about the city without any guards and freely accompanied by such companions. It could be dangerous if he was not careful or keeping a low profile.

"My lord, I must apologize for any offense I may have caused," she spoke softly, bowing her head in contrition. "I understand that such a transgression is punishable—"

"Dear lady, there is no need for apologies when no wrong was committed intentionally," Nanami interjected, his voice calm and reassuring. "Please, rise and reveal yourself. We assure you, we harbor no ill intentions towards you."

Obeying his command, she stood up, allowing Nanami to fully see her. He couldn't help but be struck by her beauty; her long hair tied behind her back accentuated her celestial skin, making her eyes shine even brighter than he thought possible. In her innocence, she appeared as a vision of purity, and Nanami couldn't fathom her being capable of any wrongdoing.

However, her attire revealed her foreign origins. Such dress was uncommon among the women of the capital or the surrounding regions. She must have been the daughter of a merchant, Nanami deduced.

"What is your name?" the blond man asked as he dismounted from his horse. "I presume you are not from the capital, am I correct?"

She smiled warmly at him and shook her head. "No, my lord minister, I am from the countryside."

"Ah," Nanami smiled triumphantly. "I am correct, then. You are from the countryside, but your accent—"

"The countryside boasts a variety of accents, my lord minister," she replied, though she felt a pang of guilt despite the truth in her words. "I reside near the far meadows, within the Haibara lands."

"I see. You must be a vassal of my lord Haibara." Nanami nodded thoughtfully, patting his horse before gripping the reins. Ino glanced at his lord minister, unsure if this decision was wise. Turning to his friend, he hesitated, "Ino, will you return to the castle and inform them that I will be delayed? I intend to walk back."

"But Lord Nanami, this is not prudent. I cannot leave you here—"

"But you will," Nanami insisted firmly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "That is my wish, Ino. I wish to accompany this lady back to her lodgings safely."

"But—"

"That is my decision, and if you disregard it, you are not truly following me, my friend," Nanami interrupted, his tone unwavering. "Have you not pledged to comply with any request I make?"

Takuma Ino sighed heavily, recognizing his friend's stubbornness. Reluctantly mounting his horse, he cast a concerned glance at Nanami. "Very well, but ensure you don your cloak upon your return. Your safety is paramount, my lord minister."

Nanami Kento chuckled softly at her words, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Yes, my lady. It seems even princes are not immune to moments of chivalry."

She returned his grin, feeling a sense of warmth at his playful response. "Indeed, my lord. It's a refreshing reminder that chivalry still exists in this world."

As she began gathering her belongings, Nanami watched her with a gentle expression. "Take your time, my lady. There's no rush."

She nodded appreciatively, feeling a sense of ease in his presence. "Thank you, my lord. I won't be long."

With a graceful movement, she carefully packed her belongings back into her rucksack, ensuring everything was secure. As she finished, she straightened up and turned to face Nanami once more.

"Now that we're alone," he began, his voice soft yet commanding, "I would prefer it if you addressed me by my name. Kento will suffice, my lady. The formal titles... they feel unnecessary in our private conversation."

She nodded in understanding, a smile playing on her lips. "Of course, Kento. Thank you for your kindness."

As they stepped out into the bustling streets of the city, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The city buzzed with activity, merchants hawking their wares, street performers entertaining passersby, and the aroma of street food wafting through the air. Despite the crowds and the chaos, there was an undeniable energy that permeated the atmosphere, a vibrant pulse that seemed to echo the heartbeat of the city itself.

Walking side by side, Kento and the lady navigated their way through the throngs of people with ease, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they exchanged stories and shared insights about their lives. With each step they took, the city revealed itself in all its splendor, its grandeur and its flaws laid bare for all to see.

The lady found herself captivated by the sights and sounds of the city, her senses alive with the vibrant energy that surrounded her. She marveled at the towering buildings that reached towards the sky, the narrow alleyways that twisted and turned like a maze, and the colorful tapestry of life that unfolded before her eyes.

Kento, meanwhile, was content to simply be in her presence, enjoying the simple pleasure of her company as they strolled through the city streets. He listened intently to her words, his heart warmed by the genuine warmth and kindness that emanated from her.

"I think I get what you mean," the woman said, her voice carrying a hint of understanding.

"Hm, about what?" Kento inquired, his curiosity piqued as he raised a brow in intrigue.

"It’s as though those titles just feel like it's about to drown you and the expectations with it, just too heavy to carry," she explained, her words filled with a sense of weightiness.

Kento's gaze softened as he listened, his eyes following her every movement as she carefully adjusted her rucksack. "Yes," he nodded slowly, "Exactly like that. And there is no time for you to think about what you actually want to be."

The woman nodded in agreement, a solemn expression on her face as they continued their stroll through the city. "Well, the control is often out of our hands," she remarked, her voice tinged with resignation. "A woman is always to be charming to her husband and obedient to all men, father and husband, without having the right to think of it. The same as your predicament, Kento."

As the woman's words echoed in Nanami's mind, he couldn't help but be reminded of his own family's struggles with duty and expectations. His thoughts drifted to his mother, a woman who had been forced into a marriage with his father solely out of obligation and tradition. The weight of her sacrifice and the constraints of societal norms weighed heavily on his heart.

Nanami's mother had endured a life of silent suffering, bound by the chains of duty and obedience. Her marriage had been a transaction, devoid of love or choice, leaving her trapped in a life she had never desired. Nanami had witnessed her struggles firsthand, the longing in her eyes for a life of her own, free from the shackles of expectation.

For a moment, a wave of melancholy washed over Nanami, engulfing him in a sea of sorrow and helplessness. He felt the weight of his own obligations pressing down on him, the burden of his father's expectations suffocating his spirit. His mother's sacrifice had taught him the harsh reality of their world – that sometimes, duty came at the cost of one's happiness.

Yet, despite his inner turmoil, Nanami remained resolute. He knew the risks of challenging his father's authority, the potential consequences of defying tradition. He couldn't afford to act impulsively, not when the stakes were so high. Nanami understood that he would have to bide his time, waiting for the right moment to assert his own desires and ambitions.

As they continued their walk through the bustling streets of the city, Nanami's thoughts remained consumed by the weight of duty and the struggle for autonomy. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that gripped him, knowing that for now, he could do nothing but watch and wait.

As Nanami's thoughts swirled in a tempest of emotion, the gentle cadence of the woman's voice brought him back to the present moment. He found solace in the way she spoke his name, the syllables rolling off her tongue with a delicate grace that soothed his troubled mind.

"Kento." Her voice was a soft melody, a gentle reminder of the reality that surrounded them. "Are you alright?"

Nanami's initial response was a reflex, a facade he put up to shield his vulnerability. "Y–yes," he stammered, attempting to mask the turmoil brewing within him. "I am very well”

The woman's concern was evident in her expression, her eyes reflecting a genuine worry for his well-being. "I had thought I had broken you. Do forgive my words if they have offended you.”

Nanami's smile, though strained, radiated warmth and reassurance. It was a facade he wore with practiced ease, a mask to conceal the turmoil raging beneath the surface. "Oh no, do not be alarmed, you have not," he reassured her, his voice steady despite the storm brewing within. "It was just you who said such true things. On behalf of the men in the world, I apologize over that matter. Women have as much say in things as we men do, I agree."

His words were a testament to his belief in equality and justice, a declaration of solidarity with those who sought to challenge the constraints of societal norms. Yet, behind his composed facade, Nanami grappled with a torrent of conflicting emotions, wrestling with the weight of his own obligations and the desire for freedom.

As they walked together through the bustling streets, their conversation took a playful turn, the woman teasing Nanami with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"For a moment, I thought there that you are pioneering a way for the kingdoms, Kento," she teased, her grin playful as she gazed at the lord minister.

Nanami couldn't help but chuckle at her jest. "Maybe one day, when men realize women as their equals, then perhaps that will happen," he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of wistfulness.

The woman pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You should know that if all women were like you, then perhaps men would fall to their knees and bow to all women, who would be our queens.”

A raised brow was the woman's response to Nanami's statement. "Must all women be like that in order to be queens? Can't sweet girls be queens, or ones who are powerless?" She challenged him.

Nanami paused for a moment, considering her words carefully. "Well, I suppose I did not think of that... all people can be queens or kings," he answered diplomatically. "If they manage to convince others, if they have the strength to do it, then they will have power."

The woman grinned at his careful response. "Careful answer, Kento," she remarked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I try my best to please others with my words, of course." Nanami replied with a smile, his gaze lingering on her as they walked. "I have forgotten to ask, forgive me.. What is your name?"

As she paused, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her features. She knew she couldn't reveal her true identity, aware of the potential consequences if her brother found out. Yet, with a graceful smile and a steady gaze, she decided to share a piece of herself with Nanami.

With gentle sincerity, she whispered her name to him. It was a moment that seemed to suspend time, as if the world around them faded into the background. Nanami's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name, finding it as sweet as the person standing before him. In that instant, it felt as though life itself was unfurling in the most enchanting way, as if a new chapter was beginning with each syllable spoken.

"It's nice to meet you," he murmured, pressing his lips gently against her hand as she extended it to him. The touch was as delicate and soft as feathers brushing against her pillow. A sense of warmth and admiration filled her as she regarded the gentle lord minister before her. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

She withdrew her hand, clasping it with the other as they exchanged pleasantries. Glancing around, she realized they were nearing her intended destination. Time seemed to have slipped away in the company of this charming prince, leaving her with a memorable stroll to cherish.

"Do you like music?" he inquired, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and melancholy as he spoke of his passion. There was a depth to him, a complexity that intrigued her.

"Very much," she replied sincerely. "I often find myself lost in all kinds of melodies. Sometimes, the music moves me so much that I can't help but dance. The musicians at home would play the best tunes to dance to! My brother teases me so much for it—” Se stops once she realizes he freezes and she blushes. “Am I talking too much?”

He shakes his head and smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Not at all. Passion exists everywhere. Music is just one of them. Music is a deeply personal experience for everyone. Do you prefer lively tunes then?"

"Oh, yes, dearly," she chuckled. "If I could dance until dawn, laughing and giggling, I would!"

Nanami's compliment caused a faint blush to rise to her cheeks. "I could imagine you outshining all the ladies of the king’s court," he remarked. "A beauty and mind such as yours would be a power unable to be reckoned with by all others."

She offered a soft smile in response. "Such compliments must get you far with the ladies of court, then?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh no, dear lady. Women are always charming to me at court, yes. But there are other matters more important for me to attend to."

She regarded him curiously. "And you... you have no interest in them, my lord?"

"Kento," he corrected gently, his expression thoughtful. "It's not that I lack interest in women... it's just that I haven't found the right one."

She tinges red once more. “Forgive me for my slip of the tongue, Kento.”

“Not at all.” He reassures her again, a smile on his face. “It happens.”

She pouts back at him. “I still need to do better at it. You requested that I call you Kento and I slip.”

“It will get better with time.” The blond says to her, waving her off. “It’s not that important. We aren’t at the king’s court.”

“Oh, so you wish to see me again?” She now grins at him, looking up to his higher figure. “I am irresistible, I suppose.”

“You are quite a cheeky lady, aren’t you?”

Her eyes beamed with mischief. “Why, yes! ‘Tis would be dull if I was not.”

“Then you have my answer to your question earlier.”

Her brows furrowed. “On what?”

“I will not be shackled to marry someone that I do not like.” 

"But won't that matter?" she questioned, meeting his gaze with curiosity. "We don't always get to choose who we wed..."

Nanami nodded in agreement. "The king is insistent on seeing me married. He believes it will make me more sociable, less focused on my work. But….”

“You haven’t found the right woman.” She finishes for him.

He nodded. “And the king insists that I should make it happen as soon as possible.”

"Well, I’m sure you work so diligently that the king simply worries," she remarked with a small smile. “You are his friend, after all. Well, the whispers say he is.”

He snickered softly. “The man is more of a nuisance and trouble than he's worth."

She laughed lightly. "I’m sure the king is not that bad, my lord."

Nanami shook his head, a wry smile touching his lips. "Believe me, you wouldn't wish to be at court, my lady."

She pivoted on her heels, coming to the realization that they had arrived. The familiar facade of her inn stood before her, a place she considered her refuge. A flicker of concern crossed her mind as she acknowledged the potential complications of bringing the lord minister into such a common establishment. The inconveniences it could cause were considerably too significant to overlook, and she resolved not to add unnecessary trouble to the lives of those around her.

Stepping away from his side, she turned to face him. A subtle height similarity emerged between them, with him only slightly taller. The streets around them whispered with the murmur of city life, the vastness of the cityscape stretching out beyond. In that moment, the boundaries between their worlds became apparent, and the delicate dance of their encounter carried an air of bittersweet transience.

"I suppose this is where you leave me," she said, her voice carrying a hint of resignation.

"Are you sure of that?" He asked, his brow furrowing with genuine concern for her safety. He didn't know her well, but he wished he did. "Not all of the capital is as safe as it once was..."

"I shall be fine," she assured him, mustering a convincing smile that could rival the radiance of a thousand women. "I am off to the ships tomorrow anyway. We will be returning home. I will be fine, I promise. I am a merchant's daughter, Kento. I know a thing or two about protecting myself. Do not worry about me.”

"But still..." he began, his worry lingering in the air.

"Please, Kento," she insisted once more, her voice soft but resolute. "I will be fine."

"But I must insist on bringing you to your quarters tonight safely, my lady," he persisted, his tone gentle yet firm.

"That is very kind of you, my lord," she conceded with a grateful smile. She looked adorable, slipping once more, with formality. She’s such a kind little soul, prim and proper. And yet so cheeky. When she finally realizes, she pouts once more. “This tongue of mine slips too often.”

"It is merely Kento," he said softly, his eyes reflecting a sincerity that touched her heart. "I insist on that with you. If I see you again. This informality makes me happy. It makes me feel…”

Amidst an atmosphere charged with unspoken tension, two figures stood resolute, their gazes locked in a silent exchange that transcended mere words. Despite the insistent push of the wind, urging them to part and surrender to the whims of the world around them, they remained steadfast, rooted in the intimate space they shared. In this moment, it was as if the external world faded into insignificance, leaving only the profound connection that bound them together.

Within the depths of their gaze lay entire universes, each conveying a myriad of emotions and thoughts that defied comprehension yet resonated deeply within their souls. It was a language of the heart, spoken in the silent symphony of their intertwined gazes, weaving a tapestry of understanding and empathy that surpassed the limitations of verbal communication. In this wordless exchange, they found solace and understanding, a sanctuary where their souls could converge in perfect harmony.

As they stood enveloped in this ineffable connection, it felt as though they were swept away by a force greater than themselves, engulfed in a love that knew no bounds. It was a sensation that consumed them entirely, suffusing every fiber of their being with a sense of completeness and belonging. With a gentle lowering of her gaze and a soft brush of his fingers against her hair, they shared a tender moment of intimacy, each gesture a silent affirmation of their shared bond.

In that fleeting instant, as their worlds collided and merged into one, it felt as though time stood still, allowing them to exist solely in the embrace of each other's presence. It was a moment that transcended the confines of reality, a sacred communion between two souls intertwined in the intricate dance of love and longing. And in the quiet stillness of that moment, amidst the echoes of their shared breaths and the soft caress of the wind, they knew with unwavering certainty that what they had was real, and it was enough.

The young woman, her voice barely above a whisper, breaks the silence with a single word, "Human." Her gaze locks with that of the man opposite her, their eyes briefly connecting in a moment fraught with unspoken meaning. 

Kento’s response comes in a contemplative murmur, his mind seemingly wrestling with the weight of her declaration. "Yes... human," he echoes softly, his eyes never leaving hers as they both linger more in the enigma of the other.

The woman's response was gentle, her words carrying a subtle grace as she acknowledged his gratitude. "You have been a gentleman," she murmured, her smile reflecting the warmth in her tone. 

He clears his throat, his hands resting at the small of his back. “It was nothing. It is…a gentleman’s duty.”

With a smile and a nod, she continued, "Thank you for your escort, Kento." 

Her gratitude held a depth that transcended the simple act of companionship, hinting at a mutual respect and appreciation for the connection they had shared during their time together. Nanami Kento could not help but be warmed inside.

"Will I see you again?" he ventured, his voice tinged with a mixture of longing and apprehension. 

Kento's inquiry, delivered with a blend of hope and uncertainty, hung in the air between them, pregnant with the weight of anticipation. “....If you return to the city. Will you come and seek me out again?”

She blinked at him, the drawing sun drawing immortality upon their silhouettes. His question carried with it the unspoken desire for their paths to cross once more, fueled by the fleeting but profound connection they had forged during their time together. She thinks it was her turn now, to feel this warmth.

Their exchange encapsulated a moment of delicate vulnerability, where unspoken emotions lingered beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. As they stood in the quiet aftermath of their parting, the question lingered like a whisper in the air, leaving the possibility of a future encounter suspended in the balance of uncertainty and hope.

Nanami Kento's curiosity about her was insatiable. He longed to delve beyond the surface, to understand the intricate layers of her being. It wasn't just her love of femininity, strength, and wit that captivated him, though those qualities held a magnetic allure. No, he yearned to uncover the depths of her soul, to unravel the mysteries that lay hidden within.

He found himself pondering, contemplating the enigma that was she. And he wanted to know everything. He wanted to unravel her. All for his own. What were her dreams, her fears, her passions? What secrets did her heart hold, and what stories did her eyes long to tell? Each moment spent in her presence only deepened his curiosity, stirring an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

In her, he saw a world waiting to be explored, a universe of possibilities waiting to be discovered. And so, with each passing encounter, he sought to peel back the layers of her facade, to uncover the true essence of who she was beneath the surface. For he knew that within her lay a treasure trove of untold stories and hidden truths, waiting to be unearthed by the curious soul brave enough to seek them out.

"Who knows, Kento," he heard her say, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. "You may ask the gods. Wish for my presence very well. The gods are merciful to those who they deem worthy."

Before she could continue, she turned to face him again, her expression softening. "About what you said earlier." She smiled gently at him, almost sympathetic. "I don't think you should continue to let yourself suffer this way. The commandment of the holy books can be too much, even for the pious."

He raised a brow, a curious smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And what say you?"

"I think that you should be able to be your own man, too," she answered, her voice gentle but firm. "You have a right to it. You are only a man, Kento. Be one that lives for yourself too. Not just for others."

"Then I suppose I must work on that then? Being my own independent man?" he mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his features.

"Yes," she nodded at him encouragingly, her eyes shining with sincerity. "Yes, yes you do."

And so she walked away from him, her figure fading into the bustling crowd until she disappeared from his sights.

In that moment, a sense of melancholy washed over him, a feeling of loss at her departure. Yet, amidst the melancholy, a glimmer of hope flickered within him.

Hope that he would see her again, that their paths would cross once more in the winding streets of the city. Hope that the connection they shared would endure beyond this brief encounter.With a wistful sigh, he turned to continue on his own path, carrying with him the memory of her presence and the anticipation of a future meeting.

HE COULD NOT STOP THINKING OF HER. As Nanami Kento returned to the castle later that night, his thoughts were consumed by her, an irresistible force that lingered in the recesses of his mind. The captivating allure of her presence was indelible, leaving an indescribable imprint on his thoughts. She embodied life in its most enchanting form, a woman who compelled him to consider possibilities he had not dared to entertain before. In her existence, he found a paradox, a challenge that both intrigued and unsettled him, becoming an unexpected anathema to his previously defined world.

Every detail of her being held captive in a cascade of enchantment. Her beauty was a symphony of nature's finest elements, a composition that left him spellbound. Her hair, reminiscent of the morning light that kissed the shores and painted the sky, framed her visage in a halo of radiance. Eyes, bright and vibrant like the ever-changing hues of autumn leaves, mirrored the lively spirit of the earth's vast wild plains. Bathed in the moonlight, she seemed to emanate the very essence of life, casting out darkness with the light it needed to thrive.

Her lips, a rich shade of red reminiscent of a precious ruby, were meticulously contoured like a finely crafted sword. Cheeks adorned with the delicate pink of apples in the late echoes of summer, ripened by the passage of time, crushed into a powder that the wind carried, infusing the scarlet wind with vibrant color. Yet, it was her blush, a tender display of vulnerability, that captivated him most profoundly.

Unable to escape the allure of her image, Nanami Kento found himself entangled in the enchanting tapestry of her existence. She became a muse that colored his thoughts, a presence that lingered in the corridors of his mind, leaving an indelible mark that defied both reason and restraint. As he navigated the corridors of the castle, he grappled with the unspoken emotions that blossomed within him, a tumultuous sea of longing, admiration, and a recognition that, against all odds, she had become a singular force that reshaped the contours of his world.

As Nanami Kento raised his goblet to his lips, the rich aroma of the wine enveloped his senses, but it was the scene unfolding around him that truly captivated his attention. The grandeur of the chambers, filled with an abundance of people, seemed to overwhelm him more than the wine itself. Despite the lively atmosphere of the king's party, his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of her, her image echoing in his thoughts like a haunting melody.

Throughout the evening, he had fulfilled his duties with practiced ease, maintaining a composed facade as he greeted guests and exchanged pleasantries. Yet, beneath the veneer of social niceties, a sense of restlessness gnawed at him, rendering the mundane tasks of courtly life nothing more than background noise.

However, as a familiar face loomed into view, Kento's brow furrowed in a subtle display of displeasure. The sudden interruption disrupted the fragile semblance of calm that he had carefully cultivated, pulling him away from the sanctuary of his thoughts. Though the white noise of the party had momentarily receded, replaced by the distractions of familiar faces and idle chatter, he found himself yearning for the solace of his own thoughts once more.

As he navigated through the sea of faces, exchanging polite greetings and engaging in fleeting conversations, Kento couldn't shake the feeling of detachment that lingered within him. Despite the opulence surrounding him, it was the memory of her that held sway over his mind, casting a shadow over the festivities and leaving him longing for a moment of respite amidst the chaos of the night.

"My lord," Sir Geto Suguru's voice cut through the air, his figure adorned in the regal elegance of fine silk, a cloak trailing behind him as his hand rested on his side. He smiled as a gentleman would. It was clear why he’s the king’s favorite. An intrigued brow arched upward as he addressed Nanami Kento. "You seem to be rather...silent tonight."

Lady Ieiri Shoko, her demeanor playful as she lounged with her pipe, enveloped in wisps of smoke, chimed in with a knowing grin. Nonchalant as always, Kento thinks. But thicker with her bluntness. "My lord does have a lot on his mind, Suguru," she interjected, patting Suguru's shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. "He deals with Satoru enough. Give him the space."

Lady Tsukomo Yuki, her presence commanding as she leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye, joined the conversation. Her husband, Lord Choso tending to his brother, Kento’s god-son, distracted him. It would make sense why she was a stray in tonight’s gathering. 

"Though I must say, my lord," she teased, her arm resting casually upon Suguru's shoulder, "Ser Ino was rather...moody today. Tell me, my lord, with all your honesty, was he jealous? Was he jealous of you meeting a lover?"

Shoko's snort of amusement punctuated the air as she handed her pipe to Suguru, who eagerly indulged in a puff of smoke. "Make sure Satoru doesn’t hear," she quipped, her tone laced with amusement. “He’d find this lover and force our lord here to get hitched!”

Nanami Kento's gaze scanned the bustling chamber, searching for the familiar figure of the king amidst the sea of courtiers and nobles. "Where is the king, anyway?" he inquired, a hint of concern tingling his voice.

Sir Geto Suguru, ever the observant companion, gestured towards a cluster of individuals, his gaze settling on a pair of piercing blue eyes that shone like beacons amidst the throng of guests. "There he is," Suguru remarked with a wry smile, "Set loose upon the courtiers, scaring the old folks who don't want to fund his little projects."

Kento sighed inwardly, a sense of resignation settling over him as he contemplated the inevitable task of mitigating the fallout from the king's impromptu interactions. "I should have suspected as much," he muttered under his breath, mentally preparing himself for the diplomatic challenges that lay ahead. 

Satoru Gojo's family background was steeped in tradition, with his father known for his staunch conservative beliefs. However, Satoru himself diverged from his father's ideology, embracing a more progressive mindset that often clashed with the traditional views of the higher-ups in the court. This ideological divide was a source of constant tension and potential conflict, one that Kento Nanami knew he would eventually have to navigate as the king's minister.

As he contemplated the impending conversation that awaited him, Kento felt a familiar ache begin to throb at his temples, a physical manifestation of the weighty responsibilities that came with his position. The intricacies of court politics were a delicate dance, and as the king's trusted advisor, it fell upon him to manage the inevitable fallout from Satoru's divergent beliefs.

Though the prospect of confronting the conservative factions within the court was daunting, Kento understood that it was a conversation that he, as the king's minister, was uniquely positioned to handle. His loyalty to the crown demanded that he navigate the delicate balance between tradition and progress, ensuring that the king's vision for the kingdom remained uncompromised.

As Kento braced himself for the challenges that lay ahead, the weight of his responsibilities pressed down upon him like an oppressive force. The relentless pounding in his head served as a grim reminder of the burdens he bore as the king's minister, a solemn duty that demanded finesse and diplomacy in navigating the complexities of court politics. Yet, as he prepared to confront the ideological divide threatening to tear the court asunder, Kento steeled himself for the difficult conversations that awaited, knowing that the fate of the kingdom hung precariously in the balance.

Amidst the weighty atmosphere, Lady Tsukomo Yuki injected a moment of levity with a playful tease, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "But go on," she urged with a teasing glint in her eyes, "Don’t leave your guests hanging. Satoru’s tomorrow’s business. We are your business right now. Continue with your little story about the eventful stroll, my lord! Give us your romanticism!"

Kento felt his lips retort upward at Yuki's jest, a fleeting smile gracing his lips as he acknowledged the playful banter of his companions. Despite the weight of his responsibilities and the intricacies of courtly politics, there was a certain camaraderie in moments like these, a shared understanding and camaraderie that served as a welcome respite from the rigors of noble life.

 And as he prepared to navigate the complexities of the evening's festivities, Kento couldn't help but feel grateful for the companionship of friends who lightened his burdens with their humor and camaraderie. But he knew he would never say that out loud. Not even if Yu would force it out of him. He supposed he was a bit more grateful for that. Haibara Yu was more than he could ever handle. They may have been childhood friends, but there are things Kento keeps to himself.

Kento sighed softly, crossing his arms in a casual display of nonchalance. "It was nothing much, really," he retorts, a hint of sheepishness coloring his tone. "He was merely angry with me for being too kind to the woman.That's all."

Suguru's laughter echoed through the room as he took in Kento's explanation. "A beautiful, kind stranger of a woman?” he exclaimed with mirth. "Love at first sight, perchance?”

With a resigned sigh, Kento met their amused gazes, preparing to divulge the details of his encounter. "She is a merchant's daughter, if I recall correctly," he confessed, knowing that his friends would appreciate the honesty. "It was merely that she was fishing by the lake and managed to hook onto my clothes by accident."

Suguru's laughter continued, the jovial sound filling the room as he teased, "Oh, my lord. I never thought the day would come when the mighty and trusted Lord Nanami Kento would be fished out from the river by a merchant's daughter."

Despite his attempts to downplay the situation, Kento couldn't help but feel a sense of bashfulness at their teasing. "It was only an incident," he insisted, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. Shoko snickers at the sight of him, as much as his response. "She may have fished a lord, but she saw me as a regular man, for which I am thankful."

Yuki nodded in understanding, her voice soft with empathy. "That is the only thing a man ever truly wishes for," she murmured, her gaze meeting Kento's with a shared understanding. "To be seen as nothing more than a man. Like you always wanted, huh?"

Shoko's smirk widened as she teased, "And how beautiful is this merchant's daughter, my lord? She must have been quite a surprise."

Yuki’s short empathy turned into mischief. “Oh, yes! Do continue to tell us about that!”

Suguru intervened with a sigh, handing the pipe back to Shoko. "You ought to stop it before he starts to be irate, Sho," he cautioned, though amusement danced in his eyes.

Kento sighed, feeling the wine loosening his lips as he opened up further. "And she is not just beautiful," he admitted with genuine warmth, a fondness coloring his voice. "She is very smart, lively, and opinionated, I may add."

Shoko's mischievous grin widened even further, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned in closer to Kento, eager to hear more about the intriguing merchant's daughter. "Oh, she sounds absolutely captivating," she remarked with a playful lilt in her voice, unable to contain her curiosity. "I must say, my lord, you seem quite taken with her."

Yuki, sensing Kento's growing warmth and openness, couldn't resist adding to the teasing. "Indeed, it seems you've met your match, my lord," she teased, a playful twinkle in her eye. "A smart, lively, and opinionated woman? She must have left quite an impression on you."

Suguru, ever the voice of reason amidst the playful banter, offered a gentle reminder to temper their teasing. "Let's not push our luck too far, my dearest ladies." he interjected with a soft chuckle, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "We wouldn't want to overwhelm our dear lord with our curiosity."

Despite Suguru's caution, Kento couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the lighthearted distraction his companions provided. "Thank you, Suguru," he acknowledged with a nod, his smile reflecting the genuine warmth he felt towards his friends. "And you're right, she did leave quite an impression on me."

Shoko raised a brow, intrigued. “It must be enough that you would want to see her again.”

"I should hope to see her again.” he admitted, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. It was merely a chance encounter."

Yuki's teasing only fueled the jovial atmosphere, her playful twinkle mirroring the lightness in Kento's heart. "Ah, but my lord," she persisted with a playful glint in her eye, "a chance encounter that leaves such a lasting impression? It sounds like fate may have intervened."

Suguru, ever the voice of reason, interjected with a gentle reminder, his tone laced with amusement. "Let's not delve too deeply into matters of fate, my friends," he cautioned, though there was a fondness in his voice. "After all, we mustn't forget our duties here tonight."

Kento nodded in agreement, acknowledging Suguru's reminder with a grateful smile. "Of course, Suguru," he replied, his tone sincere. "But I appreciate your concern. Rest assured, I will handle matters accordingly."

As the evening progressed and the wine flowed freely, Nanami Kento found himself gradually opening up about his encounter with the merchant's daughter in a way that surprised even himself. Despite his usual composure and ability to handle his liquor with ease, tonight was different. Tonight, there was an energy in the air, a sense of camaraderie and warmth that encouraged him to let down his guard.

With each refill of his cup by attentive servants, Kento felt himself becoming more relaxed, more willing to share the details of his encounter. It was as if the wine acted as a catalyst, loosening his tongue and freeing him from the constraints of propriety.

The gentle prodding and playful banter of his companions only served to fuel his openness, encouraging him to delve deeper into the nuances of his interaction with the merchant's daughter. He found himself recounting the details of their conversation with a newfound enthusiasm, each word tinged with a sense of wonder and excitement.

Despite his initial reservations, Kento couldn't help but revel in the warmth of his companions' company, allowing himself to be swept away by the moment. Tonight, he was not just a noble lord; he was simply a man, sharing tales of love and longing with friends who understood him like no others.

As the night wore on and the wine continued to flow, Kento found himself swept up in the easy camaraderie of his companions. The weight of his responsibilities seemed to melt away with each passing moment, replaced by a sense of lightness and excitement that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was as if tonight held the promise of something extraordinary, a feeling that lingered in the air like the scent of blooming flowers on a warm spring evening.

Suguru's laughter subsided into a knowing smile as he regarded Kento with a twinkle in his eye. "It seems our lord has found himself quite intrigued by this charming young woman," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement.

Shoko leaned forward, her curiosity piqued as she pressed for more details. "Do tell us more about her, my lord," she urged, her expression eager. "What is she like? How did you find her?"

Kento paused, his thoughts drifting back to the lively encounter by the lake. "She is unlike anyone I have ever met," he confessed, a hint of wonder coloring his voice. "Her spirit is as vibrant as the sunlight dancing on the waves, and her wit as sharp as a finely honed blade."

Suguru couldn't help but interject with a teasing remark. "And he had a poet's career in a day's time," he quipped, a playful glint in his eye.

Yuki nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with interest. "And what of her opinions?" she inquired, leaning in closer. "Did she challenge your beliefs, my lord?"

A thoughtful expression crossed Kento's features as he recalled their spirited exchange of ideas. "Indeed, she did," he admitted with a chuckle. "She has a way of seeing the world that is both refreshing and enlightening. It was... invigorating, to say the least."

Suguru's gaze softened with understanding as he listened to Kento's words. "It sounds like she left quite an impression on you, my lord," he remarked, his voice tinged with warmth. "Perhaps it is a sign of something more."

Kento's heart skipped a beat at Suguru's words, a rush of emotions stirring within him. Could it be possible that this chance encounter held the promise of something greater? He pushed aside his doubts, allowing himself to entertain the tantalizing possibility. Tonight, amidst the laughter and conversation of his friends, Kento dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something extraordinary waiting on the horizon.

As Kento mulled over Suguru's words, a surge of anticipation coursed through him, igniting a spark of hope within his chest. The possibility of something more with the merchant's daughter danced tantalizingly at the edge of his thoughts, like a distant melody beckoning him forward into the unknown.

With a renewed sense of determination, Kento turned his attention back to his companions, a bright glimmer of excitement shining in his eyes. "Perhaps you're right, Suguru," he admitted, his voice filled with a newfound optimism. "Perhaps there is more to this encounter than meets the eye."

Shoko's eyes widened with curiosity as she leaned in closer, eager to hear more. "Do tell us, my lord minister," she urged, her tone tinged with excitement. "What do you plan to do next?"

Kento's mind raced with possibilities as he considered his next steps. "I suppose only time will tell," he replied with a thoughtful smile. "But for now, I intend to explore this newfound connection and see where it leads."

Suguru nodded in approval, a supportive smile gracing his lips. "A wise decision, my lord," he remarked, his tone filled with encouragement. "Follow your heart, and trust in the path that unfolds before you."

Yuki's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she chimed in, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Yes, my lord, embrace this opportunity and seize the moment!" she exclaimed, her excitement contagious.

As the night continued to unfold, Kento felt a sense of purpose and excitement bubbling within him, fueled by the support and encouragement of his companions. With their unwavering support behind him, he felt ready to embark on this new journey, eager to discover what the future held in store. And as he laughed and talked with his friends late into the night, a sense of anticipation and possibility filled the air, setting the stage for the beginning of something truly extraordinary.

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET ONE - ROUND ONE - MATCH FIVE

"Lovers Painting" (2016 - James Needham) / "Bath Curtain" (1992 - Hugh Steers)

LOVERS: [no additional commentary provided]

BATH CURTAIN: I don’t have any coherent way to describe Bath Curtain just that I want to swim in the colors and I can feel the. the It. I can’t put it into words but if I think about it too hard I’ll start crying. there’s poetry in the way they’re sitting. There’s poetry in the way it takes me ten minutes to track down every time because Google just shows me Amazon listings and mommy blogs. I can’t do this. (courfeyracs-swordcane)

(James Needham is an Australian artist with an art Instagram where he posted this piece. It's an oil on canvas painting roughly 60in x 40xin (152 cm x 102 cm).

"Bath Curtain" is an oil on gesso-ed paper painting done by Hugh Steers, a gay American painter, during the time of the AIDS crisis in the US. The piece, 162.56 x 182.24 cm (64 x 72 in), is currently owned by Yale University Art Gallery in Connecticut.)

[leakyweep]

BOA DOM! BOA DOM! BOA DOM! (I will wait patiently..)

I just picture her being so giving. That is, after she puts you through hell to get it.

Boa Hancock x afab!Reader -- Earned It

A/N: I need her. I need her exponentially. I need her abundantly. That is all. Also I heard "Hearts Don't Break Around Here" by Ed Sheeran while listening to this and it adds to the experience just do it. HAPPY FUCKING PRIDE MONTH BITCH !!!!!!!

Words; 1.5k

Warnings: Afab reader, she/her pronouns, they're lesbians harold, fingering, face riding, so, so much pussy eating like damn why cant this be me, praise, this was not proofread i wrote this in a fit of gay desperation, 18+ MINORS DNI

Boa Hancock was not the woman she seemed on the outside, and it took time for you to learn that. Her exterior was tough, selfish, and uncaring of others unless they served her some kind of purpose. However, after getting to know the Empress, she's vulnerable, traumatized; but kind-hearted. You had learned this on those late nights laying beside her; stroking her long, black hair as she poured out her heart to you about her past.

After those sleepless nights, she began to pack you lunch, complete with notes wishing you good days. Bouquets of your favorite flowers wound up on your doorstep, adorned with a note of the same nature that accompanied your lunch. Invitations to her palace quickly increased, and you found yourself warming her bed more often than not, holding her through the good and bad nights alike.

Though you had your disagreements with the woman, she was one of the most down-to-earth and caring people you had ever been with. When you had asked her to be your girlfriend, she was ecstatic. She had never gotten to know a person before; she always used her beauty to get what she wanted. With you; that felt so, so wrong. She never wanted to use you. Your smile, your looks, the way you gazed at her as if you really saw her, not just her exterior beauty but the complexity and elegance of her soul; it all made her feel so special.

Boa always took care of you; this was true for outside and inside the bedroom.

So, when she gave you that half-lidded look, the one that was filled with so much lust you felt it was tangible, you giggled. You had just gotten back from a mission with the Kuja, your leather armor still donned. You had been gone for a week; and every night Boa found her fingers between legs, thinking about your fingers instead.

She knew how hard missions could be from experience. So, after the bath she had prepared for you- complete with bubbles, wine, and your favorite book- she laid you down in her canopy bed, her hands tangling in your hair as she passionately caught your lips in her own. She had been looking forward to this moment, when you finally returned and she could be intimate with you. So she could take care of her blossom.

After a heated and desperate makeout session, here she was, teasing the daylights out of your dripping cunt. She ghosted her fingers over your slit, tugged pieces of your hair, left marks in that spot between your neck and shoulder that always made you writhe- anything but touching you where you wanted her most. Soft whines of her name and "touch me" escaped your puffy, red lips. She only chuckled softly, those lust-blown pupils staring at you boldly.

"My darling, you'll get exactly what you want in time..." Her long, slender fingers ghosted over your stomach, running down the already sweaty skin there. She pulled away from your body on the bed to grab a silken ribbon, tying your wrists above your head, leaving you completely defenseless to the goddess that was about to ravage you.

Boa smiled as if you were a treat for dessert as she crawled closer to you, her full breasts hanging below her. The sight of her like this was intoxicating to you; and it only made you wriggle and whine for her more. You knew that's what she wanted, she loved to play the power game.

"Aw... my lover is so cute when she whines for me. She wants me so bad, doesn't she? She wants me to touch her needy little pussy, right?" Her hands rested on your thighs, pushing them apart to position her face level with your throbbing pussy. She could see your wet dripping from your entrance, and she ran two of her fingers through it to collect it on the tips of her digits. She lifted them to your mouth, shoving them past your lips and scissoring her fingers in your hot mouth.

She pulled her fingers back, running them around your pussy lips, through the coarse hair that grew there. You had to will your legs not to squeeze her head as you just whispered, "Please, Hancock, please..." through shallow breaths. Your eyebrows were knitted together, your eyes pleading. Boa felt as if she was seeing stars, hypnotized by the desire in your gaze. No one had ever wanted her like you do, and just the thought of your devotion made the heat between her legs warmer.

"You've been so good for me, my love. You've earned it..." She smiled up at your desperate face, watching as pleasure invaded your senses at the feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your clit. You let out a loud moan, louder than you had anticipated. You hadn't realized exactly how badly you had needed- wanted- yearned for her touch.

Your hips gyrated against her tongue, your wrists struggling against the satin as her wet muscle dragged around your clit, pleasure pooling in the pit of your stomach. Wanton groans escaped your lips, her name being sung like a Psalm in church as she slurped up your cunt.

She hummed against your pussy, her nose sliding against your clit as her tongue migrated to your entrance, quickly claiming the inside muscles she could reach. You watched as she hungrily devoured you with a fire in her eyes. She had clearly missed you; she had never eaten you out with such severity. You had- many times- as she loved the feeling your tongue blessed her with. Now, it was her turn to give back.

Her fingers prodded at your entrance, her tongue moving back up to lap up your clit. she inserted two well-manicured fingers into your pulsing walls, biting her lip at how tightly you held her digits.

"My baby had been waiting for me all week, hm? Your hips are grinding against my hand so unashamed..." Her words were muffled by your pussy, and you couldn't find the words to respond as you felt your muscles contract at your incoming orgasm. Your mouth fell open in an 'o' shape, calls of Boa's name on your tongue.

"Yes, my goddess, 'missed you," You sighed. The pink blush of your cheeks matched Boa's as the hand she wasn't using to poke at your g-spot grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing the doughy skin in her palm roughly. She pressed her thighs together, looking for friction as your moans increased in volume and number. She could feel the waves of your climax starting; she sucked down on your clit, her tongue swirling as her fingers stilled deep inside you, her middle finger kissing your spongy sweet spot deliciously.

Your toes curled and hands struggled against the restraint as your orgasm shook your body, pleasure washing over you like a wave. You called Boa's name like a mantra; like if you said it enough times you'd be blessed- which you already were to have such a woman as her. Stars exploded into view as her fingers dragged deliciously against your walls as they were taken from your pussy. You whined at the empty feeling, your eyelids finally opening to reveal a pussy-drunk Boa. She looked at you with doe eyes, her lips curling into a hazy smile.

"My turn, darling." She untied the satin from your wrists, positioning herself above your face, sitting on it with her pussy positioned perfectly above your mouth and nose. You grabbed her ass desperately, devouring her wet cunt as if you hadn't eaten all week while you were away and she was your feast. She slid her hips desperately against your mouth, her clit brushing your nose as she swayed back and forth on your face.

You felt the weight of her muscular thighs surrounding your face, her scent and the sound of her moans invading your senses; physically and mentally encompassed by her. Your fingers dug into the plush skin of her inner thighs, pulling her closer to your face to pull those sweet moans from her mouth. She held onto the headboard of the grand bed to grind her hips into your tongue perfectly.

"L-love- right there-" She sighed shamelessly loud, her hips now bouncing frantically against you, your hands traveling from her thighs to her hips to help her set her pace.

After lapping, sucking, and fingering her cunt, you felt her walls hugging your digits tightly, a loud shout of your name tumbling from her lips as she gushed her juices onto your fingers and face, your eyes closing to be submerged by her. You licked your lips and around your mouth as much as you could, slurping up her juices. Everything about her was perfect to you.

She fell softly next to you, her tall, slender frame bringing you into an embrace. She grabbed the satin ribbon from earlier, wiping the remaining cum from your face and eyes gently. A soft smile adorned her lips as she laid her head on your chest; long, soft legs intertwining with your own muscular calves. You both let out a sigh of contentment, relishing in the feel of each other. The emotion and love between you two was unabashed, and as you fell into your own dreamworlds, you whispered a soft, "I love you," into her hair. She hid her blushing face as she returned the sentiment, leaving a soft kiss between your breasts.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

first of all, happy new year! i love your work and i hope you have a wonderful year! ❤️✨

second of all... I've been having such a brain rot from this picture. i cannot function thinking about it... to make matters worse, I've been listening to some old playlists and i came across this song. and idk i feel like the pic and the song kinda...pop off together. so i was thinking if you could write something based on the pic or the song or both maybe?

Give It Up

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective) - strangers to enemies to lust to potential lovers Warnings: Mild smut. Mild violence. Dub-con if you squint. 18+ Word count: 1150

______________________________________________________________

For weeks now, things have been going missing around the Red Keep. 

First, an emerald brooch belonging to Alicent disappears. She cannot find it when she searches her jewellery box. Helaena is then devastated when she sees that her favourite necklace is gone, a Valyrian steel chain with a pendant in the shape of a spider, a ruby for its abdomen. She only took it off for a moment while she went to bathe, but when she came back to her bedchambers, it was no longer on the dresser where she left it.

The servants are questioned sharply and their quarters searched - however, nothing is found, and so the mystery remains unsolved. Aegon feels particularly aggravated upon waking one morning to find his beloved silver wine goblet has been taken from his bedside. 

Additional guards are placed around the Keep to man all points of exit and entry. Yet, things of value continue to vanish into thin air.

It is early evening when Aemond returns to his chambers, having spent the afternoon in the yard sparring with Ser Criston Cole. He freezes when he sees the cloaked figure. He knows immediately that this is the culprit of the recent thefts. They disappear through an opening in the wall upon noticing his return, a passage into his chambers that Aemond never even knew existed. 

He knows it would be wiser for him to raise the alarm with the guards and have them chase down this thief. But he also knows that every moment he wastes is another moment that they get further and further away, decreasing the chances of their capture. Without another thought, he throws on a cloak of his own to conceal his identity and gives chase.

The opening in his bedchamber wall leads to a winding stone staircase. He races down it, catching sight of the person as they reach the bottom and run out through a wooden door. Aemond hastens his pace, he pursues them down Aegon's High Hill via the twisting path of Shadowblack Lane.

The thief's pace is no match for Aemond's long strides and he quickly catches them up as they attempt to lose him down an alleyway at the bottom of the hill. 

Angrily, Aemond yanks them back by the shoulder, spinning them around and slamming them back into the wall.

"What did you take from me?!" he demands, his hand seizing their throat as he awaits their answer.

Aemond's eye goes wide as their hood falls back, revealing a young woman - a beautiful woman. He had not been expecting that. Previous experience with miscreants convinced him that he would be apprehending a man.

Her eyes are fiery with anger; she juts out her jaw in defiance as she looks up at him. "Let me go, Prince!"

She spits the final word with such venom, as though it is an insult. It shakes Aemond from his state of shock, and he tightens his hold on her throat with renewed annoyance.

"Show me what you took." His voice is cool and calm sounding; however, his brow is furrowed with irritation, his nostrils flaring.

"Is the spoiled Prince going to miss his little trinket?" she pouts mockingly, holding out a silver dragon head cloak pin on the upturned flat of her palm.

Aemond's eye flickers downwards and she uses the momentary distraction to push back against him, attempting to escape. He is much too quick for her though, crowding her back against the wall, unsheathing his dagger and pressing it to her throat.

"Is the wretched little street rat going to miss her life, when I take it from her?" he sneers at her.

She says nothing. She is not afraid to die. She stares him down, maintaining eye contact, a silent challenge. Do it, I dare you.

Aemond had fully been expecting her to scream or at least plead for her life. He is stunned once more as he looks upon her, his face mere inches from hers.

She does not miss it when his gaze drifts to her lips, hesitantly lowering his blade. She lunges forward, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip so hard she tastes blood, before making another run for it.

He drags her back by the hood of her cloak and surprises even himself when he pulls her against him, kissing her hard.

She is taken aback by the Prince's actions at first, but finds herself melting into his embrace, the metallic tang of his blood hot in her mouth as she kisses him back. She breaks the kiss, letting out a light gasp when she feels Aemond's hands wander beneath her cloak.

Aemond lets out a satisfied "mmm" as he gropes at the warmth of her body through her clothes. She is soft and pliant against him. When their lips are no longer touching, he dives in to mouth hungrily at her neck. Ordinarily, he would never behave in such a depraved manner, but this woman's open defiance of him has seemingly awoken something within him that he is unable to render dormant again.

She fights hard to keep her wits about her as her body betrays her with its wanton response to Aemond's attentions, her head becoming foggy with lust. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she uses his unguarded stance to push him back against the wall. Their lips meet once again, a sloppy mess of blood, teeth and tongues as her hand creeps its way up his solid thigh muscle.

Aemond's breath hitches as he feels her fingers wandering up his leg. He grunts as they slide home to grasp at his cock. He is hard. Of course he is; how could he not be when this temptress has been taunting him since he first laid eyes upon her?

She smirks as she feels his want for her through his breeches. Their lips cease their movements, but do not part as they pant against each other. Her hand takes a firm grasp of him through the material, moving it up and down.

Aemond's eye flutters closed as he voices a groan. Her touch builds a pressure at the base of his spine. His hips buck to meet her hand. And then she is gone.

His eye snaps open in time to catch a glimpse of her running full speed away from him down the alley. He does not chase after her. Shock keeps his feet planted firmly to the floor as he struggles to catch his breath and bring himself back to reality.

It's then that he realises he is no longer in possession of his dagger - he never got his cloak pin back from her, either.

"Shit!" he exclaims quietly, turning and heading back to the Red Keep.

When Aemond returns to his chambers that evening, he leaves the door to the passageway in the wall slightly ajar. Should she ever choose to come back, he'll be ready for her.

Read on AO3

More Aemond fics

[fkinkindagauche]

Fic Masterpost

Stranger Things

At the moment, all of my Stranger Things fics are Steddie. If I branch out, I'll add pairing indicators here. Most of my longer fics so far are omegaverse, most of my little Tumblr ficlets are not. Full tags and content warnings are always in the linked post, either on Tumblr or AO3.

Complete Chaptered Fics

Cocoon | Explicit | 36K | Omegaverse and No Upside Down AU with Steve, childfree by choice omega, hiring Eddie, an Alpha escort who helps unpaired omegas through heats.

The Unbearable Horniness of Steve | Explicit | 42K | Omegaverse and No Upside Down AU, O!Steve and A!Eddie, friends helping each other out with boners to lovers.

Someone To Bleed | Explicit | 60K | Steve gets turned into a vampire, sensual bloodsucking hijinks occur.

Gourd Love Is Hard to Find | Explicit | 46K | Omegaverse and No Upside Down AU. O!Steve, lonely mid-30s teacher and owner of 4 cats finds a note in his door inquiring about his pumpkins.

One Shots

Hot Knife | Explicit | 9K | Omegaverse, No Upside Down, College AU, O!Steve finds his flirtation attempts rebuffed for the first time in his life by a prickly alpha.

Put A Little Love In My Void | Explicit | 2.7K | PWP, Steve is a size queen and Eddie has a real big dick. That's it, that's the plot.

White and Rare and Full of All Kinds of Rage | CW: Rape/Non-Con| Explicit | 3.1 K | Steve picks up a strange hitchhiker during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve. The hitchhiker vanishes from his car, but has plans for Steve later.

The Indiana Lakers | Explicit | 2.3K | Eddie gives Steve a bad gift on an already bad Christmas morning.

A Golden Opportunity | Explicit | 3.1K | Eddie has a thing for Steve's elf costume. Turns out Argyle does too.

All I Ever Wanted Help With Was You | Explicit | 8.6K | Steve agrees to help Eddie out by pretending to be his human companion for a vampire gathering.

Tumblr-Only Ficlets

Color coded by rating - General (green), Teen and Up (purple), Mature (orange), Explicit (red)

There's A Devil Waiting Outside Your Door | This Magic Moment | How You Turn My World, You Precious Thing | A Ghost in Giant Sneakers | Wild God | Dress Up In You | If You Love Me Right, Then Who Knows? | So Jealous | Slutty Little Mouse | Good Morning | Beware the Suburban Lamprey | Relief | Love Me Better

Other Fandoms

The Locked Tomb/Gideon the Ninth

Show Your Bones | Explicit | 5K | Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus | Gideon Nav works in Aiglamene's used book store, which acquires the liquidated Nonagesimus library at auction following the death of the Reverend Mother and Father. Gideon finds some interesting letters hidden in some of the books, and meets the fascinating Reverend Daughter Harrowhark.

Our Flag Means Death

ain't got time to make no apology | Explicit | 3K | SteddyHands | Izzy really needs a bath, and Ed and Stede need some Izzy.

Lil pink flower dividers by @steddiecameraroll-graphics!

[rottenzombrainz]

🪦Welcome to the Graveyard🪦

Hey!

I'm Allister, a zombie who likes to write >w<

I have an OC by the same name though, so you can just call me "Rot" or rottenzombrainz :3c

~Obituary~

-I like a lot of things, but I mainly post about Tokyo Debunker and sometimes Storytaco inc games too! I'm also just getting into What in Hell is Bad and Degrees of Lewdity!

- Minors please DNI!! I don't feel comfortable with kiddos consuming my content- especially with the games I've been playing recently

-I'm a writer! Not the best in the world, but I'm still a writer!

-I'm fine with any pronouns. I couldn't care less about how people onlinr perceive me gender-wise

-I do take hc and fic requests!! I will deny anything I'm not comfortable writing though! (incest, pedo, fetish fics, Jiro x character)

-Proud overuser of commas

-I try to put good content labels on my posts but be weary of spoilers and suggestive content

-I have no idea how to fucking use tumblr so please bear with me

- Proud self shipper!! I <3 my f/os Lawrence and Jiro

-President of the Lawrence Lover Legion™

Tag Keys

#undead ramblings - regular blog posts

#living inquiries - ask responses

Rising from the grave....

I'm currently taking a semi-hiatus from writing but you can still send in requests!!

🧟‍♀️ = Priority

Anon headcannon request pt2 🧟‍♀️

Cockwarming headcannons 🧟‍♀️

Subaru + Rui FriendFic

Jiro + Ren FriendFic

Ghouls comfort reader during period

Ghouls in zombie apocalypse au

Ghouls as monsters

Lyca smut

Ghouls as alternative subcultures

Tombstone of Contents

Everything is Tokyo Debunker related unless specified otherwise ^w^

My fics ;

Lawrence x Reader(Dangerous Fellows) short fluff

Lawrence x Reader(Dangerous Fellows) part 2 (fluff)

Lawrence x Reader(Dangerous Fellows) part 3 (smut)

Luca + Jiro FriendFic

Zenji + Ed FriendFic

Virtual Intimacy: Rui x Reader fluff

My theories ;

Towa is God

Taiga's prosopagnosia

Jiro's stigma

My head cannons ;

Ghouls see a Like Dove while with you

Ghouls receiving a BJ

NSFW Jiro headcannons

Darkwick house sports

Ghouls at the mall

Ghouls painting they nails 💅

Ghouls playing dungeons and dragons

Ghouls favorite Bath and Bodyworks scent

Silly/random trait headcanons

Ghouls favorite Tim Burton movie

Ask games

tkdb specific ask game

OC posts; (OC roleplays @askallianything @wenyichen-mortkranken)

tkdb persona

Alli introduction and lore dump

Alli character relationships

More Alli lore dump

Alli lore recap

Yichén lore dump

[yesiwasateenagewerewolf]

Eddie Kaspbrak gets a divorce, comes out, and plans to have a slutty, slutty summer.

Richie is the first person Eddie matches with on the dating app he downloads. They have a fantastic hook-up, it's perfect and everything Eddie hoped being with a man would be.

Eddie is imbued with confidence. This casual sex thing is good and he gets to meet funny, handsome men. He's going to have the best summer ever - the summer everyone else had when they were in their early twenties but Eddie was living with his mother and deeply repressed.

Eddie matches with a bodybuilder next. He's tall and muscular. Eddie already knows he likes tall men. Richie was tall.

The hook-up never gets off the ground. They meet up, but Eddie doesn't feel any attraction, even though the guy is tall. All he talks about is the gym!

Eddie lets the guy down gently and then texts Richie asking if he wants to hook-up. The sex is amazing again.

Third match is with a guy who describes himself as a hippie. Eddie has reservations, but Richie also described himself as a hippie in his profile and that worked out.

They meet for coffee. The guys fingernails are dirty. He smells like patchouli and unwashed socks. Eddie pays for both their drinks then leaves.

He texts Richie again asking if he wants to hook-up.

After the sex, Eddie quizzes Richie on his bathing habits and Richie happily explains his political philosophies to Eddie and the reason why he calls himself a hippie - "I'm a lover, not a fighter".

Eddie's co-workers find him in the breakroom at lunch that week reading 'Das Kapital'. Eddie mentions offhandedly that a friend recommended it.

Eddie's next match is a guy who is quite a bit younger than him. They have nothing in common but Eddie figures the sex might be good.

It's awkward. They clash over music tastes. The kid tells Eddie his music is old and too mainstream. Eddie decides he doesn't want to give this guy an orgasm and kicks him out.

Richie comes over, fucks him and then critiques Eddie's music collection instead.

Eddie has a lot of ABBA and a lot of divas.

Richie rates it a 10/10 gay music collection, but tells him he should try and get some of his collection on vinyl because "vinyl just sounds better, Eds."

That weekend Eddie drags his best friend Bev to a record shop so he can buy a record player and a couple of vinyl records.

Eddie decides that for his next hook-up he'll try matching with a guy who also works in finance and he'll go on a real date to a fancy restaurant.

On paper this guy looks perfect for Eddie. He is in the same socio-economic bracket, he's the same age, he's interested in literature and the stock market and fashion. He's classically handsome. Eddie thinks maybe this could go somewhere.

Eddie power walks out of the restaurant half way through the date and calls Richie, ranting about how his date was a fucking republican who started going on about how hard it is to meet men with his values and how Eddie seemed like such a good match.

Richie laughs uncontrollably at Eddie's dissecting his life and career, trying to decide what made the guy think he'd agree with him that same-sex marriage made a mockery of 'real' marriages. Eddie had one of those 'real' marriage and it sucked. Especially because he was gay!

Richie comes to meet him and ends up walking him home. Eddie is too wound up for sex, too angry, but they end up cuddling on his couch, drinking and watching some terrible movie from the 80s they talk all the way through.

It's just as good as the nights they have sex.

Eddie tells Bev about his terrible dates and bemoans how unslutty his slutty summer is. He hasn't slept around at all.

Beverly coyly asks how many times Eddie's slept with Richie.