#I kept thinking of him from time to time so I was surprised I never actually saw him mentioned

[lostinlovingrevery]

Thinking about old man Logan struggling to… get it up with reader and he gets all insecure 😭😭

It's Natural

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

Logan has some trouble getting his one eyed trouser snake to wake up

A/N: I was giggling writing this. also my search history has really become awful and weird since i started writing fics.

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, Allusions to sex, Logan can't get it up, Logan being extremely dramatic, peepee touching(blowjobs people, blowjobs), did you know men can orgasm and/or ejaculate without an erection? Greek god punishments mentioned lol, a lil fluff, I put F but this actually could be gender neutral!

Huh....So this is what it feels like

Logan avoided your sympathetic gaze.

"It's okay baby-"

His face burned hotter.

"It's natural"

He scoffed.

Your arms wrapped around his waist as you hugged him from behind, your chest, pressed into his firm back, you gave him a squeeze. He moved to stand up from the bed, but you held onto him.

Why, why does God have to keep playing this cruel joke on him? Is this his punishment for his sins?

He rather be cast down by lightning.

Let the pits of hell open up and swallow him whole. Give him punishments fit for the Greeks. He'll gladly let himself be bound, where an Eagle will eat his liver every day; He'll push the damn rock up the mountain only for it to roll back down, and repeat; put him on a fiery wheel, spinning through the sky.

Anything

Anything but this.

He used to laugh at men who were in a position that he has found himself in. A bit of arrogance from aging and never having an issue before. He didn't believe he was invincible, he just thought maybe his body would give out before he would have to worry about a problem like this.

In fact his younger self was always full of piss and vinegar. His stamina unmatched. His refractory period just mere seconds after coitus.

It's not like you didn't get to experience that with him.

You've had to beg him to slow down before. He held a certain pride in being able to make a pretty young thing like you out of breath. Bury himself in you over and over, playfully taunting you because you couldn't keep up with an old man like him. He reveled in your whines and praises.

He never thought that you'd have to experience this, with him.

"You're making it a big deal." You say softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"Because it is." He snapped turning his head towards you.

"You're just tired. You've been overworking yourself baby." You rested your head on his shoulder as you hugged him. He tensed up. "It happens."

"Not to me." He grumbles sitting up from the bed. The mattress creaked from his weight disappearing.

"Lo." You sigh, dropping your arms in your lap as you watch him walk across the room, nude, reaching for his coat as he pulled out an cigar and his lighter from the inner pocket.

You admired his form. Muscular, hairy, fuck how could you not? He was sculpted, every curve, every divot, every muscle, made your mouth water.

He wouldn't look at you while he smoked, brows creased in frustration as he dragged himself deeper into a pit of self-hatred. A cloud of cigar smoke hazed the room and made you a little light-headed.

You had been fooling around. Logan came home early tonight, claiming he missed you. He was all over you, kissing and touching and you were loving it. One by one your clothes were yanked off - Logan had nearly ripped your pants off you - again.

Course time went on and you were becoming more eager for the main course- not that you didn't love the foreplay. You noticed Logan's frustrations as he kept grinding and kissing you. Before he finally pulled himself off you, shame in his face, and a glance downwards told you what you needed to know.

It really didn't bother you. Of course it didn't! You loved him. Things happen. He was already older than an average man, and to be honest his libido had surprised you at his age.

No words were going to making him feel better.

Fuck it, stiffy or not, he's your man, and you wanted him.

You climbed off the bed where he was leaning against the creaky old dresser you had thrifted from a local shop.

"Lo." You say, and his eyes only glanced at you for a second before glancing away. "If you're going to be like that, then I'll just do it myself."

Logan looked at you, a small bewilderment across his face as you dropped to your knees. You took his flaccid member into your hand, and began stroking him. Slowly and gently.

"Jesus-" His breath hitched. "Baby what are you doing?"

"Lo..." You hummed, looking up at him with a sinful smile, you leaned forward, playfully tapping his cock against your lips. "I want you. Okay?"

He watched in surprise, as you took him in between your lips, swirling your tongue over his tip. His stomach tensed, and flexed, as his lips parted as he watched you take him in between your lips.

Fucking hell

He tipped his head back, the feeling of your tongue swirling over his soft cock was different. You acted no difference from him being hard or soft though, taking him down your throat, bobbing your head over him. Your spit soaked his cock

Your hand came up to fondle his balls, gently squeezing and groping them, as your other hand ran soothingly up and down his thigh.

Just when he thought he couldn't love you more

The humiliation was there still. Yet every suck, pop, and lick as you worked over him pushed it farther and farther away. You devoured him as he were desirable.

A deep moan reverberated from you, and that was the nail in the coffin for him.

A hard grunt escaped him as his shoulders lurched forward and his hand dug into your hair, gripping you as he pushed himself further down your throat making you gag. His cum coming out in short, hot spurts.

His chest heaved, and he tipped his head back.

Not quite as powerful as normal orgasm, but as he looked down at you, it didn't matter.

You stood up, wiping your lips of spit and cum before leaning forward to kiss him, your arms wrapped around his waist.

"See? No biggie." You smile up at him.

He observed with you fascination.

"I love you. In every way." You reassured him, pecking his lips again.

The both of you stopped, surprise on your face as your felt something hard on your hip. He raised his brows as he looked down at you, a faint grin growing across his face. You hummed, leaning in to brush your lips over his, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace.

"Well, Bonjour Monsieur"

[reysdriver]

Hello! I was wondering if it would be possible to write about Eddie coming over and you have cooked a big meal for the two of you and Eddie has never seen this much food. Used to a frozen meal or Mac and cheese, he is kind of scared to overindulge even though the food is mouth watering. Reader just wants to take care of him.

Eddie's stunned when you make dinner for him, and even moreso when it's the best thing he's ever tasted — eddie x reader fluff

warnings: ig just food and talks of Eddie's social status/living situation

words: 1.2k

Your multitasking skills were finally coming in handy for something important tonight. 

Tonight’s menu consisted of a main dish, sides, and dessert that you were making completely from scratch. And on top of all that cooking, you kept looking at the clock every two minutes to make sure you’re on track for when Eddie said he was coming over. 

Eddie Munson had never been a punctual person. He shows up late to class every day—which is part of the reason why he’s in his third senior year of high school—and all of his friends know to tell him to come at least a half hour earlier than everyone else because that’s the only way they can guarantee he’ll be there when they want. 

But he’s always on time for you. Whenever you have a date, he shows up exactly when he says he will. And when he’s even a few minutes late, he apologizes profusely until you promise that you’re not upset with him. 

You know he’ll be here at exactly seven o’clock, and it was almost time. 

Each tick of the clock reminding you that your boyfriend was on his way and you weren’t going to have dinner ready on time. 

You tried your best to rush the process, but the knock at the door caught you by surprise before you could fully finish cooking. 

You jogged over to the front door to let Eddie inside—even though you’ve told him before that he could let himself in—and you were met with his smiling face. 

He immediately snaked his arms around your figure and pulled you in for a kiss like he was a sailor coming back from a long voyage at sea. 

As much as you loved when he kissed you like this—and he did it quite a bit—you had to break apart because you had pasta on the stove that you were absolutely not going to let burn. 

“I’m almost done cooking dinner.” You told him as you jogged back to the kitchen.

“I thought you liked me.” Eddie says dramatically, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. “Such a shame. I guess I’ll just go home.”

“This food took so much work. If you leave before trying it, I think I’ll cry.” 

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?”

Eddie waltzed over to where you were standing in the kitchen and leaned against your fridge, eyeing up both you and the food you were preparing. 

“What did you make?”

“Eddie, do you have any patience at all?” 

Your boyfriend shook his head, barely taking any time to think of his answer. “Little to none.”

Right after saying that, he started reaching for the covered desserts that you had placed beside the stove. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” You said while swatting his hand away and shooting him a joking glare. “Go sit at the table and wait until I’m done cooking.”

He sent you a flirty smirk before obeying what you asked of him.

“Yes ma’am.” 

As you plated up dinner, you and Eddie exchanged a bit of small talk since the both of you were trying to focus. You on dinner, and Eddie on how good you looked wearing that floral apron that was hanging from your waist. 

When you loaded plates and bowls onto the table, Eddie’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He couldn’t believe how much food you had prepared. It looked so colourful and smelled so damn good too. 

You hung your apron on the handle of the oven door and sat down across from Eddie. Noticing that he looked somewhat stunned and hadn’t yet taken a bite, you explained the dish like the chefs you had seen on TV. 

“It’s a creamy tuscan chicken. I found the recipe in a magazine.” You then pointed at the side dishes you made to go with it. “And then I made some rice pilaf and roasted vegetables to go with it. I know you don’t love vegetables but I added a balsamic glaze so it’s not so plain.”

He wanted to speak up. He wanted to thank you and tell you how excited he was to dig in. But he was still just so shocked.

Eddie had never seen this much food at once in his life. Especially not home-cooked food, and especially not on just a normal night. Neither Eddie nor his uncle Wayne had ever been good at cooking, and even if they were, their small trailer didn’t allow much room for food preparation. 

He was just stunned. No other word for it. Eddie saw all this food in front of him, but still couldn’t believe it was real. Or that his girlfriend made it for him for date night. He had to be dreaming, he was sure of it.

“Is everything alright?” You asked him, suddenly insecure about your work. 

“No! Wait, no, I mean ‘yeah’!” Eddie stumbled over his words, only now processing that you were across the table and waiting for him to say something. “It looks good, really good. Amazing actually.”

“It’s not too much? Or something you don’t like?” You asked, still unsure. “Because I could just pack it up for meals throughout the week and we could order a pizza or something?”

“No, it’s not that!” Eddie picked up his fork and eagerly scooped up some rice to prove he wanted the food. “There’s just so much, I wasn’t expecting all of this.”

“I made dessert too, brownies and chocolate chip cookies.” You said, pointing to the dish your boyfriend tried grabbing earlier. 

Eddie’s eyes widened, realizing that there was even more than what he was seeing. He didn’t believe you when you said you spent the whole day cooking—why would he? If a delicious pizza could be at his door in 30 minutes or less, how could anything good take longer than that?—but now he knew you were telling the truth. 

And now his mind was going a mile a minute trying to process everything. 

“Well now I feel like shit.” He said jokingly. 

“Why?”

“Look at this whole thing. Jesus, last week when I cooked for you, I made a can of Spaghettios!” 

“Well I liked that!” You told him, trying to clear his guilt. “I just wanted to do something special tonight and use what I know. I’m sorry it made you feel bad.”

“No, no, I was kidding about that, baby. It’s great, don’t worry.”

You smiled at him, happy that he was excited about the dinner.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Are you gonna try it, then?”

Without another word, he took a piece of the chicken and brought it to his lips. The second it touched his tongue, he felt like he had just eaten something made by Julia Child herself—and Eddie noted to himself that he should pull out that impression later.

It was easy to tell the emotions on Eddie’s face as he took that bite. So, satisfied with his reaction and proud of yourself, you started to eat too. 

With every bite Eddie took, he thought about marrying you just so he could eat like this more often.

[chuulyssa]

there’s glitter on the floor after the party !

teaser it’s your birthday tonight, but do they remember, or care? pair gojo, nanami, geto, toji, sukuna x reader cw angst, just pure torture™, not proofread !

a/n it’s my birthday on 28th wooohoooo ! i wanted to be a sad girl tho *lana intensifies* let’s hope my parents take some notes and NOT do this

GOJO

for someone who liked cakes, sweets and celebrations so much, you didn’t think it would take this long for satoru to realize what day it was. you didn’t want to remind him either; he should remember it on his own, shouldn’t he? moreover, you had hated the look on his face when you reminded him of the anniversary date the two of you had planned together. he had panicked so hard and begun checking his notes and calendars, it was a pathetic sight, honestly.

“what?” his face had fallen immediately.

“don’t you remember?”

“uh, sweets, what exactly am i supposed to remember?” he had said.

he was just busy. but you had agreed upon this when you began dating him. not everyone was the strongest sorcerer in the world, not everyone had the number of things to do that he did.

“no, it’s fine.”

“you sure?” he had asked.

“yeah, it’s nothing, really.”

but you were quite sure he hadn’t forgotten. not this time. because you had checked in on his calendar a week before this, and today was marked rightly “her birthday” with a shit ton of emojis. so what was taking so long? maybe he was planning a surprise party? whatever it was, you didn’t think the prank needed to be dragged on for so long. since he remembered it, he ought to come out and celebrate already. and if he didn’t, well, whatever. you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when you saw that the party he kept was for someone else, some other girl, no

NANAMI

you’d been waiting for hours at this point. and it was nanami, the kento nanami. kento was never late, how could he be? if there was something he always relied on it was his ability to tell the time, whether it was his refusal to work overtime or his arrival on your dates before you.

so where was he now? he had hurried off in the morning before you had gotten a word out.

“i’m terribly sorry, sweetheart, i have to leave early today,” he had planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“okay, okay,” you had blinked in confusion at his hurry. “where are you going though?”

“i have decided something.”

“decided what?”

he’d sighed cryptically. what was he hiding?

“it’s best if you didn’t know.”

“excuse me?”

he’d shaken his head and just… left? he hadn’t even wished you, not the night before, not the morning after. and just what had he decided? you were hurt, of course you were. where was he going in such a hurry? you had felt he had been growing distant from you for long now. but it did not make the pain of being left alone on your fucking birthday any better. but what could you do either way now? you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when you saw that he had returned to his sorcerer status, and completely abandoned all the plans the two of you had made for your future, no

GETO

he was too in love with his cult to notice, of course he was. suguru dumbass geto. of course it was his cult’s birthday today, who were you even? when he had first told you, to prevent yourself from crashing the fuck out, you had tried to shut up.

“oh.”

“yeah, so are you joining us tonight?” he had asked, as if he was bestowing an honour upon you by inviting you to his stupid party.

“i didn’t know you kept birthdays for your cult, haha,” please get the hint, you had prayed.

“we do, yes. you will join us tonight, hm? i want to take you there as my date.”

“oh, no, no i don’t think i will, actually.”

“huh, why not? you had been looking forward to this day for a long time, hadn’t you?”

yeah, you had. obviously you had. but when you were jumping around two weeks ago talking excitedly about a ‘birthday’, you did not mean it to be his cult’s day. was that too hard to notice? but all was okay, of course. ‘how could you ruin such a long relationship over a forgotten birthday?’ you were sure that’s what the older women of the cult would talk about if they knew. and besides, you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when he had decided to take another woman as his date for the event, showing that you were completely replaceable to him, no

TOJI

he had a mission planned out conveniently at midnight, just when the clock would strike 12 and you’d be a year older. but what could you say? it wasn’t as if it was in his control when someone wanted a person to die or not, he was just the man doing the job.

so you had let it go. one hour, two hours, twelve hours, eighteen hours, where the fuck was he?

“hey, sorry ma,” there was loud cheering from his side of the phone.

“where are you?”

“got this race i wanted to bet on actually—”

“shut up, no seriously, shut the fuck up, toji—”

“what? are you okay?”

“no i’m not, what the fuck—”

there was another cheer of celebration from his side. then silence.

“calm d—”

you hung up. 6pm and he was nowhere. you were sure even if he didn’t pick your call up that time. after this, he would go out drinking with shiu all night long, then come back home drunk and wobbling around, mumbling the tune to ‘happy birthday’ if he realized what day it was, and even then, you thought, you were being too optimistic with that last part. but he was an assassin, and you knew that. didn’t he deserve some happiness in life too? and you, you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when everyone tried to remind him of the day but he was too far gone to know, no

SUKUNA

what did you expect? your chamber to be full of decorations? the dining room to be laid with the most beautiful gifts ever? the corridors to be filled with balloons? though none of that was here, the mere mental image of sukuna blowing up balloons and trying not to pop them with his nails was funny.

funny. everything that could make your mind get off right now was funny. blowing the fire of your candelabrum out, leaving behind just smoke and discomfort. funny. pretending the dinner you had been served for the night was your highly expensive banquet designed just for tonight. funny. acting as if sukuna was right by your side, giggling, as if he didn’t always behave like human traditions meant nothing to him. funny.

“it’s my birthday, you know.”

“birthday? alright. what of it?”

“uh, birthday birthday? shouldn’t you be celebrating it?”

“what is there to celebrate? it is merely a day, no?” he had said it so simply that it made you backtrack.

“yes but—”

“and besides, you are only growing older. it would’ve been remarkable and truly something to celebrate if you had been growing younger by the days,” he chuckled, turning away from you to make his way to the council.

you laughed. funny. he was right though, wasn’t he? you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when he knew, he knew and he could not care less, showing his disdain for it too, no

of course, of course you had many other birthdays, many other years yet to come.

but not when it came at the expense of your self-respect, and you had to make a choice between loving and loving yourself, no

[meinii]

"sick"

summary: Sylus is sick, now it's your turn to take care of him (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

content: fluff, mentions of being sick, mentions of food

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

it wasn’t often you saw Sylus like this—stripped of his usual confidence, his sharp words dulled, his imposing presence softened by the fever making his skin warm to the touch. he wasn’t the type to admit when something was wrong

in fact, you’d only found out because you had shown up at his place unannounced, fully intending to tease him about skipping lunch plans, only to find him slumped on the couch, face pale and drenched in sweat

"Sylus" you had gasped, immediately rushing to his side

he cracked one eye open, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips

"hey... look who’s here," he rasped, voice rough and lower than usual "didn’t think you’d catch me like this... not exactly my best look"

your heart twisted at the sight of him—normally so strong and composed—reduced to this feverish mess. without hesitation, you pressed the back of your hand to his forehead, wincing at how hot he was

"you’re burning up," you said softly "why didn’t you call me?"

he closed his eyes again, murmuring, "didn’t want to worry you... it’s just a fever. not like I’m dying."

"that’s not the point, Sylus," you whispered

gently, you brushed damp strands of silver hair away from his face. his skin felt like fire under your fingertips "you take care of everyone else. let me take care of you this time, okay?"

he grunted something unintelligible—probably a protest—but you ignored it

moving quickly, you fetched a cool washcloth and pressed it against his forehead. His breath hitched at the cold sensation, but after a moment, he relaxed into it

"see? not so bad," you murmured, offering him a smile. his eyelids fluttered, gaze locking with yours for a moment longer than necessary

"you’re... too good to me" he mumbled

"someone has to be," you quipped, though your tone was soft. Standing up, you glanced toward the kitchen "I’ll make you some soup. stay put."

his smirk returned—though faint—as he closed his eyes

"bossy" he muttered, but there was no bite to it

in the kitchen, you found yourself smiling despite the worry gnawing at your chest

Sylus was so stubborn—always putting others first, never letting anyone see his vulnerabilities. but here he was, letting you in. that meant something.

the soup wasn’t anything fancy, but you hoped the warmth would help. carrying the bowl back, you found him half-asleep, arm draped over his eyes

"Sylus," you called gently "hey, sit up for me. I brought you something"

he groaned but obeyed, albeit sluggishly

"you’re relentless" he grumbled

"you’d do the same for me" you pointed out, holding the spoon up to his lips

he blinked at you, clearly debating whether to argue, but eventually sighed and leaned forward

"...tastes better because you made it" he said after swallowing

"flatterer" you teased, but your cheeks warmed anyway

you fed him slowly, making sure he didn’t rush. his eyes kept fluttering shut between bites, and you reached out to steady him when he swayed. "almost done" you soothed

once finished, you set the bowl aside and wiped his mouth gently "there. not so bad, right?"

he chuckled weakly "feel like a kid again..."

"good," you said, grabbing the blanket to tuck it around him "means you’ll listen to me for once"

to your surprise, his hand shot out, catching yours. his grip was warm—too warm—but his thumb brushed over your knuckles in a tender gesture that made your heart skip

"thank you," he murmured, gaze sincere "really."

"you don’t have to thank me," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "you’ve carried so much on your shoulders, Sylus. let me shoulder some of it. just this once... let me be the one taking care of you."

his eyes softened in a way that made your chest ache. he squeezed your hand gently "...don’t deserve you"

"well, tough," you replied, giving him a teasing smile "you’re stuck with me"

he chuckled again, but it faded into a cough. worry flared anew, and you reached up to adjust the cool cloth on his forehead

"sleep," you urged "you need rest."

"you’ll stay?" he asked, voice rough

vulnerable.

"of course I will," you said without hesitation "I’m not going anywhere."

settling beside him, you let him rest his head on your lap, fingers carding through his hair soothingly. his breathing gradually evened out, the tension in his body melting away. you stayed like that, watching over him, heart full

hours passed

he stirred occasionally, murmuring half-formed words—your name among them. each time, you reassured him softly, smoothing his hair back and humming quietly

at one point, his hand found yours again, fingers intertwining

even in sleep, he sought your warmth

you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple "it’s my turn to take care of you," you whispered "and I will. always."

the night stretched on, but you didn’t mind.

Sylus—your Sylus—was letting you in, letting you hold him together when he felt like falling apart

and you’d stay right there, as long as he needed you.

[v6quewrlds]

reading through the dr wifey tag and thinking about how joe gets someone else to do the car and handyman stuff and what if wifey is the one that opens the door when the bug guy comes or something and I’m thinking one of two things

1. The guy refuses to believe she lives there/owns the home and keeps asking for the man of the house (has happened to me many times)

2. Flirts with her

I just know Joe appears behind her in seconds like 🧍‍♂️ we won’t be needing your services today, fuck off and bye

this concept is so delicious, i had to write it out

The shrill chime of the doorbell pierced the quiet afternoon air, echoing through the sprawling Cincinnati home. She had been nestled in the living room, engrossed in a medical journal article, blue light glasses shielding her eyes from the glow of her laptop. With a sigh, she set the laptop on the coffee table and padded towards the front door in her plush slippers. The house felt particularly quiet today; both she and Joe were engrossed in their own worlds.

As she swung the door open, the cool, fall breeze carried past her. The exterminator stood before her, a middle-aged man with a green polo and a cap emblazoned with a cartoonish bug. He took a moment to scrutinize her, his eyes flickering over her crewneck and leggings, glasses perched atop her head. "Hi, can I help you?" She asked, her voice firm but courteous.

The man's smile was forced, his eyes lingering for a beat too long before he finally spoke. "Yes, ma'am. I'm Reggie from Pest Patrol. Mr. Joe Burrow's expecting me." His tone was skeptical, as if her mere presence was a glitch in his day. She watched as his eyes traveled over her body, assessing and judging without a hint of subtlety.

Recognition flashed in her eyes as she introduced herself. "Come in," she said, her tone cooler than the breeze outside. "Joe is busy right now but I can show you around for the inspection." She stepped aside, allowing the exterminator to enter. His gaze lingered on the expensive decor, the polished floors, and the walls adorned with sports memorabilia and family photos. The disbelief was palpable, rolling off him in waves, but she ignored it.

He followed her into the kitchen, his eyes flicking around the space as if searching for evidence that she truly belonged. "So, Mrs. Burrow," he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "do you have any concerns about where the pests might be coming from?"

Her jaw tightened, but she kept her smile in place. "Oh, I'm not married," she began, her voice as sweet as sugar, belying the irritation simmering beneath the surface. "Just being proactive, no concerns at the moment."

The exterminator chuckled, a sound that grated on her nerves. "So, you're the housekeeper, then?" His smile never reached his eyes as he began setting down his equipment.

She felt a spark of anger but kept her voice calm. "No, I'm Joe's girlfriend," she corrected, her voice as smooth as silk.

The exterminator's smile didn't falter. "Girlfriend, huh?" He began poking around in the cabinets, asking questions about their kitchen habits and pantry staples, all the while keeping his tone lightly mocking. "Well, I guess you've got it made, living here with the big shot football player. Must be nice, not having to worry about bills, huh? Tough times and all." His gaze flickered to the white gold watch adorning her wrist.

Her smile was brittle. "I guess so," she replied, her voice tight. She didn't owe this man an explanation and she wasn't about to justify her relationship or her right to be in Joe's home - her home.

"I'm surprised you know this many details," he remarked once again as he checked the baseboards in the hallway, his eyes never leaving hers for too long. She felt a knot of irritation form in her stomach, his doubtful gaze feeling like a thousand tiny needles pricking at her pride. "Most of the girls I see with guys like Joe are more about the shopping than the home maintenance," he said with a smug chuckle.

Her smile didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, it's my home too, so I like to know what's going on." The exterminator grunted noncommittally, but his skepticism was as thick as the scent of the chemicals he carried.

As they moved through the house, her irritation grew. She'd faced assumptions about her relationship before, but the blatant disrespect was grating. Just as she could feel her couth begin to slip, she felt a strong hand find her hip, a warm chest press against her back, an even voice interrupt the man's probing.

"Everything okay here?" Blue eyes met hers, glancing toward the older man before leaning down to kiss her cheek. She felt a wave of relief wash over her as Joe stepped into the room, his demeanor revealing he had heard the tail end of the conversation. The exterminator, Reggie, took a step back, his smug grin fading as he took in Joe's broader frame and the firm grip on her waist.

"Just talking," she said lightly. "Reggie was surprised that I knew about the kitchen layout and our pest control needs."

Joe's eyes flashed with something that looked like distaste, but his voice remained calm. "I'm Joe," he said, extending a hand that the exterminator took with a hint of hesitance.

"Reggie," the man said, his smile forced. "She's smart, knows what's going on around here." He tried to cover his tracks, but the awkwardness lingered in the air like a bad smell.

Joe's gaze never left the exterminator. "Well, we're a team," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'd even say she's smarter than I am."

The exterminator chuckled nervously, looking from Joe to her and back again. "Ah, I can see that," he said, his voice suddenly syrupy. "But maybe I should speak to the man of the house before I start the job."

Her eyes narrowed and she felt Joe's hand tighten slightly around her waist. "She's more than capable of handling this," Joe said firmly. "But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can reschedule for another day, have someone else come out."

The exterminator took a moment, his expression shifting from surprise to embarrassment. "No, no, I'm good," he said, his voice strained. "Just a little misunderstanding, I guess."

She could feel the tension in Joe's body, his protectiveness radiating through the fabric of his shirt. "Well, let's get this done," Joe said, his eyes lingering on the exterminator before turning to her. He leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow before murmuring against her lips, "You okay?"

She nodded, her face warm, and Joe gave her a gentle squeeze before releasing her. "Good," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You let me know if he makes you uncomfortable again." With that, he turned and strode back down the hall, his office door remaining open just a crack.

[aspenmissing]

hello hello !! glad to always see your work on my tumblr :DD is it possible to make arcane characters (mainly viktor but the rest is good too >:)) x s/o that just got really good grades after working so hard the entire semester ? maybe its them telling the reader how proud they are of them ! (totally not inspired by irl events rn) once again i love your work ! <33

ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 4645 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ! ᴡᴇʟʟ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ!! ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ!!! ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏᴜɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ

JAYCE

The moment the grades were posted, Y/N nearly stopped breathing.

Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through the list, her vision scanning over names and numbers, heart hammering against her ribs like a drumroll. This was it—the culmination of months of effort, of sleepless nights hunched over textbooks, of ink-stained fingers and exhausted sighs. Every moment of struggle had led to this exact second.

Then—there it was.

Her name. Her score.

Top of the class.

She blinked. Once. Twice. Her brain barely processed it at first, as if her eyes were playing some kind of cruel trick. But no, the number didn’t change, her ranking didn’t shift. She had done it.

A sharp inhale. A flood of emotions.

A joyous laugh bubbled up in her throat, a mixture of relief, disbelief, and overwhelming pride. The weight of stress and self-doubt she had been carrying for weeks suddenly lifted, leaving her light, almost dizzy.

She didn’t even think—her feet were already moving.

Jayce. She needed to tell Jayce.

She knew exactly where to find him—his lab, where he spent hours buried in research and blueprints, half the time forgetting to eat because his mind was too occupied with hextech. The moment she reached his door, she didn’t bother knocking. She burst through, panting slightly from the rush.

"I did it!" she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips before she could catch her breath.

Jayce, who had been bent over his workbench, straightened in surprise at her sudden entrance. A wrench clattered onto the table as he turned, brows raised. But the moment he saw her face—her wide eyes, the way she was practically glowing with excitement—a slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.

"You did it?" he echoed, stepping toward her.

"I got top grades!" She was breathless, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. "All that studying, the late nights—it paid off!"

For a moment, he just looked at her, taking in the sheer joy radiating from her. Then, without a second’s hesitation, he moved.

Jayce scooped her up effortlessly, his arms wrapping around her waist as he spun her in the air, laughter rumbling deep from his chest. She let out a surprised squeal, clutching onto his shoulders as the room spun around her, but all she could do was laugh.

"Y/N, that's amazing!" he exclaimed, setting her back down but keeping his arms locked around her. "I knew you could do it!"

She was still dizzy, still floating, both from the spinning and the sheer happiness surging through her. "I worked so hard, Jayce," she murmured, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. "There were times I thought I wouldn’t make it."

His hands found her face, warm and gentle as he cupped her cheeks, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. His brown eyes were soft, filled with nothing but admiration and pride.

"I saw how hard you worked," he said, his voice low, sincere. "I saw you push yourself, even when you were exhausted, even when you doubted yourself. And I never doubted you for a second." His thumb brushed her cheek, a soft caress. "You're incredible, Y/N."

Her heart clenched, warmth pooling in her chest.

"I couldn’t have done it without you," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "You kept me sane. Every time I wanted to give up, you were there."

Jayce chuckled, the sound low and affectionate. "I was just reminding you of what you were always capable of," he murmured before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "This? This was all you."

Her throat tightened with emotion. The exhaustion of the semester, the pressure, the nights spent doubting herself—it had all built up to this moment, and now, standing here in his arms, she felt seen. Truly seen.

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, but they were happy ones.

Jayce noticed and let out a soft laugh, brushing his lips over the top of her head. "Hey, no crying," he teased, his tone light, but his grip on her was steady, secure. "This is supposed to be a celebration, not an emotional breakdown."

She let out a watery laugh, playfully swatting his chest. "Shut up, I’m happy!"

"I know," he grinned, his arms still wrapped firmly around her. "And I’m happy for you."

Then, his expression turned mischievous, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

"So," Jayce drawled, tilting his head. "How are we celebrating? Fancy dinner? A whole day off where you don’t think about education? Or maybe—" he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, "—I just kiss you until you realize how insanely proud I am?"

A delighted laugh escaped her as she tugged him down by the collar of his coat, her fingers curling around the fabric. "Why not all of the above?"

His grin softened, his eyes filled with something deeper, something tender. "Sounds like a perfect plan to me," he murmured before pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was warm, lingering, filled with everything he couldn’t say with words alone—pride, admiration, love.

And with that, the celebration began.

VIKTOR

Y/N sat at her desk, staring at the paper in her hands as if it were some sort of mirage. The bolded letters at the top confirmed what she had hoped for all semester—she had done it. A perfect score. The highest marks she had ever received.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she set the paper down, exhaustion weighing heavy on her bones from countless sleepless nights. It had been worth it, every long hour spent in the dimly lit library, every page of notes scribbled in frantic handwriting.

A knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. Before she could even respond, Viktor stepped inside, his cane tapping softly against the wooden floor. His golden-brown eyes were filled with their usual warmth, but when he saw the stunned expression on her face, his brow furrowed.

"Y/N?" He limped closer, resting his weight on his cane as he glanced down at the paper in her hands. "Is everything alright?"

Instead of answering, she turned the sheet toward him. Viktor's gaze flicked over the numbers, and his lips slowly curled into a proud, affectionate smile.

"You did it." His voice was gentle, full of something deep and unwavering.

"I did it," she breathed, the weight of all her effort suddenly crashing into her at once.

Viktor set his cane against the desk and, without hesitation, pulled her into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around her securely, as if he could shield her from all the stress she had endured.

"You worked so hard for this, láska," he murmured into her hair, pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "I knew you could do it." (Love)

She melted against him, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. "I just… I was so scared I wouldn't make it."

Viktor pulled back slightly, just enough to cup her cheek. "Nonsense. You are one of the most brilliant minds I know. Your dedication, your passion—it is inspiring." His thumb brushed against her skin, a silent reassurance. "I have seen the way you push yourself, how much you care. You earned this, and I could not be prouder."

Her throat tightened with emotion, and she managed a shaky laugh. "You're going to make me cry."

He chuckled softly, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Then let me give you another reason to cry—with happiness, of course."

Before she could ask what he meant, Viktor carefully pulled out a small, wrapped package from his coat pocket and handed it to her.

"You got me a gift?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Of course," he said, nudging her hands gently. "Go on. Open it."

With a mixture of curiosity and excitement, she peeled away the paper to reveal a beautifully bound leather notebook, its cover embossed with delicate golden designs. She ran her fingers over it in awe.

"It's for your next journey," Viktor explained softly. "I figured you would need somewhere to record all your brilliant ideas."

Y/N's heart swelled with warmth. "Viktor…"

Before she could even think, she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his lips. He hummed in surprise, but his hands immediately found her waist, pulling her closer as he returned the kiss with soft, lingering affection.

When they finally parted, his forehead rested against hers, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

"You are incredible," he whispered. "And I will always be here to remind you of that."

Y/N smiled, gripping the notebook to her chest as happiness bloomed within her.

"Thank you, Vik. For everything."

He kissed her forehead one last time, the warmth of his love wrapping around her like the safest embrace in the world.

And in that moment, with Viktor by her side, she knew that every late night, every ounce of effort, had been worth it.

Because she wasn’t just celebrating alone—she was celebrating with him.

JAYVIK

The crisp evening air of Piltover carried a gentle hum of celebration. Inside the shared apartment of Y/N, Viktor, and Jayce, the atmosphere buzzed with warmth. A small table was adorned with a modest spread—your favorite pastries, a bottle of sparkling juice, and a single candle flickering in the dim light. It was a celebration of your incredible achievement.

"To Y/N! The smartest and most hardworking person we know," Jayce declared, raising his glass. His golden eyes shimmered with pride as he looked at you.

Viktor, sitting beside you with his cane propped against the chair, gave a small, pleased chuckle. "I believe you may have outdone even Jayce's old Academy records. And that is quite the accomplishment." His amber eyes softened as he gazed at you, his voice filled with warmth.

You grinned, cheeks heating up under their combined attention. "I just... worked really hard. I wanted to make you both proud."

Jayce scoffed playfully, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "As if we weren’t already proud of you every single day. But this? Y/N, this is huge! You pushed yourself so much, and now you’re top of the class." He pulled you closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "Of course, we’re celebrating you."

Viktor nodded, his hand settling gently over yours. "Hard work should always be acknowledged, moya lyubov'. And you, můj drahý, deserve nothing less than admiration." His thumb traced absent circles over your skin. "I hope you know that no matter your grades, we would still be immensely proud of you. But seeing you achieve what you set out to do—it is remarkable." (My Dear)

Your heart swelled at their words, the exhaustion from months of studying melting away under their praise. You had worked tirelessly, pouring over textbooks late into the night, attending extra lectures, and pushing past the limits of your own endurance. But in this moment, with their unwavering support surrounding you, every sacrifice had been worth it.

Jayce nudged the plate of pastries toward you. "C'mon, indulge a little. You earned it."

You picked up a pastry, savoring the sweetness as it melted in your mouth. Viktor watched you with a satisfied expression, sipping his drink as he relaxed beside you. "You should allow yourself to enjoy moments like these more often," he mused. "It is easy to get lost in ambition, but balance is just as important."

Jayce nodded in agreement, his fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair. "Exactly. And besides, we’re always here to remind you to take a break when you need it."

You smiled, warmth filling your chest. "I know. And I appreciate it more than I can say."

Viktor smirked. "I would offer to carry you to the couch to rest, but, ah…" He tapped his cane lightly against the floor. "Perhaps Jayce should do the honors."

Jayce laughed and easily scooped you into his arms, earning a surprised squeak from you. "Your wish is my command, Y/N." He grinned, carrying you toward the couch while Viktor followed, shaking his head with a fond smile.

As you settled between them, Viktor leaning comfortably against you while Jayce held you close, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment.

Jayce rested his chin on top of your head, sighing happily. "You know, we should make this a tradition. Whenever you accomplish something big, we celebrate like this."

Viktor chuckled. "I like that idea. And perhaps, next time, we go beyond our apartment—dinner at a fancy restaurant, perhaps?"

You giggled at the thought. "I’d like that. As long as you both are there."

Viktor and Jayce exchanged amused glances, their hands entwining with yours. "Always," Jayce assured softly.

Viktor pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles. "Forever."

You had worked hard, you had succeeded, and most importantly—you were loved.

And that was worth celebrating.

VANDER (PLATONIC)

The Last Drop was always full of energy, but tonight it had a different kind of buzz. The usual clinking of glasses, shouts of drunken laughter, and the occasional scuffle were still there, but they were mere background noise to the excitement at the far end of the bar. Vander’s kids—Vi, Mylo, Claggor, and Powder—were huddled around Y/N at their usual table, their expressions ranging from amazement to skepticism.

“You really got all top marks?” Mylo leaned forward, elbows on the table, his brows furrowing in suspicion. “Even in math? No way.”

Y/N grinned and waved the parchment in front of his face. “Yes way, Mylo. Do you want to check my work?”

“Like I’d understand any of that nerd stuff,” he scoffed, crossing his arms in defeat. “But I’m just saying—this is a first. We should get this framed or somethin’.”

Powder practically vibrated in her seat, her hands clutched into excited fists. “I knew you’d do it! You worked so, so hard! Vi and I saw you studying all the time. Even when we told you to take a break, you just kept going.”

Vi smirked, reaching over to nudge Y/N’s arm. “Told you it’d pay off. Look at you, all fancy with your grades. Might as well start teaching the rest of us now.”

Claggor let out a chuckle, shaking his head in admiration. “That’s some real dedication right there. You’re gonna be the smartest one in all of Zaun at this rate. Maybe even Piltover. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at their praise. It wasn’t easy balancing everything—living in the Lanes, helping Vander with errands, keeping up with Vi and the others, and still pushing herself through every late-night study session. But hearing them all acknowledge her effort made it all feel worth it.

=

From behind the bar, Vander had been listening the entire time, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. He watched as Y/N beamed under the attention of her found family, pride shining in her eyes. She’d worked herself to the bone for this. He knew it better than anyone—how she’d sit by the dim lantern light long after the others had gone to bed, muttering formulas under her breath, scribbling notes furiously, erasing and rewriting when she didn’t get something right. He’d caught her nodding off over her books more than once, always too stubborn to admit she needed rest.

Now, seeing her finally celebrate, he couldn’t be prouder.

With a deep chuckle, Vander stepped forward, setting down a fresh round of drinks on the table—nothing too strong, just something sweet to mark the occasion. He placed a firm but gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I always knew you had it in you,” he said, his voice warm, steady, and full of pride. “Hard work like that—it ain’t easy. Takes a strong heart, real discipline. But you stuck with it, and now look at you.”

Y/N swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. She had looked up to Vander for so long, seeing him as the father figure she had never really had. He had taught her so much—how to hold her own, how to keep going even when things got tough. And now, hearing the pride in his voice, seeing it in his eyes… It meant everything.

“You deserve to celebrate,” Vander continued, ruffling her hair like he always did when he was particularly proud of her. “And I don’t wanna hear about you locking yourself away with books for at least a few days, got it?”

She laughed, swatting his hand away. “Okay, okay! I’ll take a break.”

“Good.” Vander chuckled, before lifting his glass high in the air. His voice carried through the room, firm and unwavering. “To Y/N—the smartest, hardest-working kid in all of Zaun.”

“To Y/N!” the others echoed, clinking their drinks together.

Vi gave her a one-armed hug, Powder practically tackled her, and Claggor and Mylo smirked as they raised their glasses. The warmth that spread through Y/N’s chest was unlike anything she had ever felt before. In this moment, surrounded by the people she loved, she had never felt more seen, more valued.

This was her family.

And more than anything, she was proud to have made them proud.

SILCO

The dim glow of Zaun’s neon lights flickered outside the window, casting long, hazy shadows across the polished surface of Silco’s desk. The Last Drop was quieter than usual tonight, the usual raucous laughter and clinking glasses replaced with a soft murmur as patrons indulged in their drinks. The scent of whiskey and smoke lingered in the air, but Silco was hardly paying attention to any of it.

No, his focus was entirely on the woman in front of him—the woman who had just burst into his office, eyes bright with excitement, clutching a crumpled piece of paper in her trembling hands.

"You did it," he murmured, fingers trailing lightly over the parchment as he scanned the grades printed across it.

All top marks. Every single one.

"I did it!" Y/N practically beamed, barely able to contain the joy bubbling inside her. "Silco, I actually did it! After all the late nights, the stress, the headaches—I passed everything! And not just passed, I did well!"

Her breathless words filled the space between them, and for a moment, Silco simply studied her. He had watched her work herself to exhaustion, nights spent hunched over books and notes, fingers stained with ink, pushing herself beyond her limits. He had seen the frustration in her eyes when things didn’t come easily, the way she fought to understand, to be better.

And now, she stood before him, victorious.

Silco’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile as he set the paper down and turned his full attention to her. Slowly, he rose from his chair, his movement deliberate as he stepped around the desk, closing the space between them. His gloved hand reached up, fingers tracing the side of her face with uncharacteristic softness, his mismatched eyes gleaming with something deeply fond.

"I never had any doubts," he said, voice low and warm, the rasp in his tone softer than usual. "You are brilliant, my love. Determined. There was no other outcome for you but success."

Y/N felt her heart swell at his words, emotion tightening in her throat. The weight of months of effort, the exhaustion, the overwhelming pressure she had put on herself—it all unraveled in that moment. Because for all of his sharp edges, for all of the ruthlessness he displayed to the world, she had always known this side of him. The part that cared. That cherished. That loved.

And right now, that love was focused entirely on her.

"I wanted to make you proud," she admitted, voice quieter now, her hands gripping the lapels of his coat. "I wanted to prove to myself—and to you—that I could do this."

Silco exhaled softly, amusement flickering in his gaze. "You’ve always made me proud, darling," he murmured, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "This only proves what I already knew."

His words unraveled something deep inside her, a relief so profound it nearly brought tears to her eyes. She rested her forehead against his chest, and for a moment, he simply held her there, one hand resting at the small of her back, the other tangling in her hair.

Then, a smirk tugged at his lips as he murmured, "I suppose this calls for a celebration."

Y/N sniffled slightly, looking up at him. "Oh? And what exactly does Silco consider a celebration?"

A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he guided her toward the door, his fingers lacing with hers. "I was thinking dinner. Something special. Something worthy of my brilliant, hardworking girl."

Her laughter was light, warm. "Well, when you put it like that, how could I refuse?"

=

He led her out of the office, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten as they stepped into the night together. Zaun stretched out before them, its streets a mix of neon haze and deep shadows, but for once, Y/N wasn’t thinking about anything beyond this moment.

Silco didn’t take her to one of the usual places in the Undercity. Instead, he led her to a quiet, tucked-away restaurant near the industrial district, one she had never been to before. It wasn’t grand, nor was it flashy, but it was private. The kind of place where Silco could let his guard down, even if only slightly.

The owner, an older woman with knowing eyes, greeted Silco without surprise, leading them to a secluded table in the corner. The lighting was dim, the scent of warm spices lingering in the air, and as they sat down, Y/N realized that Silco had planned this.

"You knew I’d pass," she accused playfully, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Silco leaned back, smirking as he picked up the wine glass the waitress had placed in front of him. "Of course I did. I don’t waste my time on anyone less than extraordinary."

Y/N flushed, biting her lip as she shook her head. "You have too much faith in me."

"No," he corrected smoothly, swirling the wine in his glass before meeting her gaze. "I have exactly the right amount of faith in you."

Something about the way he said it—the confidence, the absolute certainty—made warmth spread through her chest.

The rest of the night was soft, quiet, intimate in a way that very few moments in Zaun could be. Silco indulged her, letting her talk about everything—the stress of her exams, the moments she doubted herself, the overwhelming relief when she saw her grades. And he listened, truly listened, in a way so few people did.

=

And when dinner was over and they returned to his office, when she curled into his arms on the worn leather couch, exhaustion finally catching up to her, Silco pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and whispered, "I will always be proud of you, my love."

She fell asleep with those words settling deep in her heart, safe in the knowledge that, no matter what came next, Silco would always be in her corner.

And she would always fight to make him proud.

SEVIKA

The dim lights of The Last Drop flickered overhead, casting a warm, golden glow over the corner booth where you sat. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and liquor, the usual hum of rowdy patrons filling the space, but all of that faded into the background. Because tonight wasn’t about the undercity’s chaos—it was about you.

Your heart still fluttered from the moment earlier today when you’d opened your results. The anticipation, the fear, the months of grueling effort—it had all built up to that single second, where time seemed to freeze before relief crashed over you like a tidal wave. You’d done it. You’d pushed yourself beyond limits you didn’t even know you had, buried yourself in work, and proved to yourself that you were capable of more than anyone—maybe even you—had expected.

Now, here you were, still feeling the remnants of that high, pressing your lips together to keep from grinning too wide as Sevika slid a drink across the table to you.

“Go on,” she urged, her gruff voice laced with something softer, something rare.

That was the thing about Sevika. She wasn’t the kind of person to throw around affection easily, nor did she waste words on empty praise. Everything she did, everything she said, was deliberate. And that made moments like these all the more meaningful.

You picked up the glass, your fingers brushing against hers briefly, and even through the cool metal of her cybernetic hand, a shiver ran up your spine.

“Can’t believe you dragged me here for this,” you teased, though the warmth in your chest only grew.

Sevika leaned back against the booth, a lazy smirk playing on her lips. She looked at you like she always did—like you were something worth admiring, worth protecting. The sharp edges of her usual hardened expression softened just enough to make your heart clench.

“Damn right I did,” she said, voice brimming with pride. “You worked your ass off all semester. You deserve to celebrate.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. The burn was smooth, comforting in a way that reminded you of her—strong, steady. “Guess I do,” you admitted, still getting used to the feeling of accomplishment.

Sevika tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “No guessing,” she corrected. “You do deserve it. Smart, dedicated, and still got enough fire in you to keep up with me? Damn impressive.”

Heat rushed to your face, and you rolled your eyes to cover it. “Oh, so now you’re a fan of my brain, too?”

Her smirk deepened, her fingers lazily tracing the rim of her glass. “Always have been.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dipping lower, meant only for you. “Brains and beauty? Deadly combination, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

She always did this—always had this way of catching you off guard, slipping under your skin in a way no one else could.

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re proud of me,” you murmured, trying to play it off, but your voice betrayed you.

Sevika exhaled, tilting her head slightly, gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “Damn right I am.” A pause, then, softer, more sincere, “Proud as hell, Y/N.”

The words settled deep in your chest, warm and reassuring, more intoxicating than any drink in this bar.

A lump formed in your throat, the weight of it hitting you all at once. Maybe it was the exhaustion from all the work catching up with you, or maybe it was just Sevika—her presence, her unwavering support, the way she always stood in your corner, even when you weren’t sure if you deserved it.

Unable to resist, you reached for her hand under the table, fingers tracing over the smooth metal of her cybernetic arm before lacing them with her other, warm and calloused. She didn’t pull away.

“Thanks, Sev,” you murmured, squeezing gently.

She looked down at your joined hands for a moment, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, lazy circles. A quiet kind of tenderness that most people never got to see from her.

“Always, babe.”

She didn’t say much more after that, but she didn’t need to. The noise of the bar faded into a dull hum, the laughter and shouting of patrons becoming nothing more than background noise. Because right now, nothing else mattered—just you, her, and the quiet understanding that, no matter what, Sevika would always be there.

And that? That was better than any grade you could ever earn.

[palskippah]

Hi! The other day I thought of this AU where Nimona and Gloreth are girlfriends and uni students, and each got their own cat :]

Under the cut are more drawings and some ideas!

-Both Nimona and Gloreth study a career that is more about practical work than having to study theoric stuff (thinking about something like visual communication)

-Ambrosius is one of those white cats that are kinda blonde in some parts, and Ballister is that kind of black cat that is very ungraceful and has very big eyes

-Nimona found Ballister and befriended him when he was a street cat going around her old apartment's stairs, specifically around the banister. He had had a broken leg that healed wrong and he limped a lot. When she decided to take him in, she took him to the vet and she hurt more than Ballister did when they told her they had to amputate his leg for his own good.

>He benefited greatly from it and now has very good balance woo

-When Nimona finally had him at home she realized that he's really bossy, so his 'government name' is Ballister Boldheart (since she's Nimona Brightheart- imagine her going you were really brave :) so she wrote down his name like that instead of just giving him her own or leaving him with no last name) but the nickname she always calls him is Boss.

-Goldenloin is an entirely made up name, and Nimona laughed her ass off the first time Gloreth explained why she named him that, so much that they almost got kicked out from class where they were waiting for their turn to receive feedback from their professor.

-Ambrosius and Ballister are both young cats, like a bit over one year (with the whole Ballister and Ambrosius being just knighted and that, they must be young adults jdfkg)

>They're besties but also cats and they're always cuddling or fighting

-Also just because, Ambrosius doesn't really like baths but Ballister doesn't mind them

-They clean eachother a lot too, and that ends up with Ambrosius spitting black hairballs and Ballister spitting white/blonde ones

-Nimona and Ballister fight a lot, mostly because Ballister attacked her first, usually for no reason (being a young cat, I guess)

-But they cuddle a lot too :]

-Whenever Gloreth's doing skincare or anything spa related, Ambrosius wants to be included too and she usually indulges him, and then he's the prettiest cat

-Ambrosius isn't allowed outside like Ballister is, but sometimes he gets ahold of things when he's near the windows or the balcony, like cockroaches or small birds, and he always brings them as gifts for either Gloreth, Nimona or Ballister

-When Nimona and Gloreth started living together they all immediately started sharing the bed

-Also because I'm myself, there's going to be a cat Baby too jkfd

-When Nimona took Ballister to the vet and stuff, she was told that he was a sterilized male, and since they were both males, Gloreth wasn't in a hurry to sterilize Ambrosius, he never went out of the house too, so she didn't really worry about that.

-Anyways Nimona notices that Ballister's getting chonky but that's it, and then one day she gets home to her cat laying with five tiny kitties with him and cleaning one of them, and Ambrosius cleaning Ballister too and she's like 🧍

>She's still too surprised but also Ballister sorta forced her to sit so he could present their kitties one by one, and she had to go aw, wow! :D with each of them because otherwise he'd meow at her angrily for not paying attention

-Anyways they got seven cats now and Nimona and Gloreth decide to keep just one of the kitties, and that one they kept is Baby and they call him Kitty

-Baby's a black cat too woo

-Also neither Nimona nor Gloreth like folding clothes so sometimes they leave them there and Ballister and Ambrosius lay on top of them, and leave them with black and white fur that their humans must take off later

-Also they still use he/him pronouns with Ballister

-Both Nimona and Gloreth take their cat to the vet so they don't have any more kitties.

That's it! :D

[imagineaspen]

Another prompt fill: Secret Garden

This is basically a 'Sheik works for Ganondorf like in the manga' OOT AU

The first time Zelda saw him in her garden, she was filled with rage.  He had already taken everything from her, and now this too?  Would he rip up the flowers she had planted with her father and Impa as a girl?  The final desecration of the castle that used to be her home.  He’d already changed so much about Hyrule Castle that she found herself getting lost at times when she wandered its halls.

Ganondorf looked up from where he knelt by the ground and promptly got to his feet.  He narrowed his eyes.

“Sheik,” he said.

“My king,” she responded steadily. “I apologize for intruding.”

The first several times he had addressed her, it had filled her with panic.  Does he know? she would ask herself; it would take all of her willpower to prevent herself from trembling.  Does he know that I am Hylian?  Does he know that I am a woman?  Does he know that I am Zelda?

But as the weeks turned to months and nothing happened, she had begun to relax into this role.  Sometimes it felt as though Sheik was real, and Zelda was the lie.

“Do you have news for me?”  Ganondorf asked.

“I have scoured Kakariko Village, my king,” she replied.  “If Princess Zelda or her attendant were ever hiding there, they are there no longer.”

Ganondorf’s eyes flashed with frustration, but he merely sighed.  “Very well,” he said.  “Come see me in the throne room later; I have another task for you.”

“Yes, my king,” she said, then hesitated.  

“Is there something else?”

“No, my king, I was only wondering…”  She swallowed.  “What were you doing when I came in?”

There was silence for a moment as he frowned at her.

“I believe you were dismissed,” he said, and she flushed.

“Apologies,” she said, then fled.

Later, once she was certain he had gone, she snuck back into the garden to find the flower beds intact, watered and weeds freshly pulled.  Ganondorf, she was suddenly certain, had not been ripping them up at all.  He had been tending to them.

***

She continued to sneak into the garden as often as she dared, surprised and confused each time that the plants were so well kept. 

This is ridiculous, she told herself.  You are Sheik, not Zelda.

Sheik did not care for sentimental things like flowers.  He cared only for avenging the royal family that he served, even if that required temporarily following the man he hated more than any other.  He was strong, capable.  He had never been so stupid to have hatched the plan that had led to this.

Zelda had ruined everything.  She was not needed.  And yet, in this garden, it was her that emerged.

Ganondorf had added new plants since she had last been here.  Tall and thin, with small pink flowers growing off the lush green stem.  Pretty, she thought.

“Don’t think that I don’t know about all the time you spend here.”  His voice, as though her thoughts had summoned him.

Zelda startled.  “My king,” she said.

“There is very little that occurs in this castle that I do not know about,” Ganondorf said, stepping into the garden.     

“I apologize, my king, I –”

“It’s fine, Sheik,” said Ganondorf.  He approached her, then looked down at the flowers she was leaning over.  

“I’ve never seen this kind of flower,” Zelda said, tentatively turning to glance at him.  She waited, watching him in silence.

“Warm safflina,” Ganondorf said abruptly.  “They grow only in the desert.”

Zelda blinked, surprised; she had not expected him to answer. “Oh?”

Ganondorf looked away, gritting his teeth.  “Something…  to remind me of home,” he said, so softly she could scarcely hear it.  

She stared, not believing what she was hearing.  He must have been in quite the sentimental mood, to speak of his homeland.   Before she could think twice, she asked a question; one she had been considering for some time now but had not dared speak aloud.

“Why have you not had your people move to Castle Town, my king?”

He frowned.   Zelda smiled, and added, carefully, “Surely you do not enjoy looking out onto rubble every day; perhaps it is time to rebuild.  You have said that the desert is harsh, my king; perhaps –”

“I cannot,” he interrupted.  “Not yet.”

“My king?”

“I cannot,” he said, suddenly fierce.  “Until I know that this won’t be taken from me!”  He whirled on her.   “That is why I need you to find the Princess, Sheik.  Her, and that forest boy!”

“I am trying, my king,” she said.  “I’ve been to the forest, and there is no –”

“Then try harder!” he snarled, chest heaving.  He closed his eyes, clenching his right hand into a fist.  “It isn’t enough,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, she thought.  “I need to be stronger, to be better, to…”   

He raised his head to look at her again, and Zelda felt that familiar fear rear up in her.  He knows.  He knows that I am Zelda; he knows that I have Wisdom; he knows –

“Leave, Sheik,” he said.

She should not leave him in this state.  If there was one thing she had learned about him, it was that Ganondorf alone with his thoughts was a dangerous thing indeed.

“My king,” she started, but he shook his head.

“Leave,” he repeated, nearly begging, and it was that which caused her to flee again.

***

The more time passed, the more erratic and paranoid Ganondorf’s behaviour became.  She found herself in the position of advisor as much as spy, spending much of her time talking him down from whatever insane plot he’d hatched to keep Hyrule in his clutches.  (“Let me speak with Darunia,” she’d begged only the past week.  “I will make him see reason, my king; this dragon plan goes too far!”)  He sunk deeper and deeper into his obsession with power and the Triforce, convinced he would lose Hyrule without it (he’d never said that word to her, but she knew what he wanted).

She often wondered why he seemed to listen to her, of all people, when she came to a realization: He has no one else.

He was a man alone, holed up in a castle surrounded by wreckage and monsters.  She did not think he had spoken to any of the Gerudo in months; he had mentioned once something about mothers, but she had never seen them here.  He was falling apart, and Zelda was desperately trying to hold him and her kingdom together until the hero returned.  And yet more and more she found herself thinking of the hero’s return with dread.

Ganondorf would learn, then, that his only confidant was a lie, and she worried it would break him completely.

Now she returned to the castle after a long stint in Zora’s Domain, and the first place she went was her garden – his garden, now.  He was there already, staring down at the soil with a defeated look in his eyes.  She followed his gaze.

The warm safflina were at his feet.  Brown and wilted.

“They are dead,” he said dully as she moved to stand beside him.

“I’m sorry, my king,” Zelda offered.  “It’s the climate; it is too humid here for desert flowers.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped, then let out a long breath.

“Sheik,” he said.  “Why do you follow me?”

She frowned, confused by the change of subject.

“The Royal Family of Hyrule have treated my people as slaves for generations,” she said.  “I would serve anyone who puts a stop to it.”

It was a rehearsed answer, fed to her by Impa (and so easily that Zelda had to wonder if her attendant saw truth in it).

Ganondorf let out a short laugh.  “And I am better?” he said shortly.  “You think that I do not consider snapping your neck every time that you come to me and tell me that you still have not found Princess Zelda?”

“Yet you have not,” Zelda said lightly.  “And so I must consider that to be an empty threat.”

He laughed again; his eyes were taking on a crazed gleam.  “I have ruined this kingdom,” he said, voice raising.  “The Gorons riot; the Zora are on the verge.  The capital is a broken shell.  The people live in fear.  And my people carry on without me.  They’ve never needed me.”

“My king, you–”

She cut herself off as he looked to her, giving her a savage smile.  “Shall I destroy you next, Sheik?”

Without waiting for an answer, he looked back at the dead flowers, the anger draining from him as quickly as it had appeared.   

“I just wanted,” he said quietly, “something that does not break with my touch.”

She took a step towards him.  He shook his head.

“Leave me,” he said.

Sheik would have obeyed.  He would consider this conversation evidence that Ganondorf was mad and needed to be deposed as soon as possible.

Zelda stayed.  She took another step to him, and rested a hand on his arm.  He looked down at her in surprise.

“I am here,” she said.  “Ganondorf.”

Neither of them said anything more.  But he did not move away.

Tomorrow, she thought, he would hate that he had shown her this weakness, would rage at her, or send her on a task that sent her far away.  And she would become Sheik once again, and hate him, and wish for the day the hero reappeared.

But for now, in this garden, she stayed and offered comfort to a man who, she was beginning to realize, loathed himself just as much as Sheik did Zelda.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Wildflower-Part 2

Jay Halstead x Reader (Nicknamed Wildflower)

You and Jay both adjust to him being home and someone else figures out Leah’s parentage

As soon as you hit the six week mark to go back to work, Sylvie and Matt helped you to get Leah into the same daycare that Julia was in. You would drop her off in the morning when you headed into shift. It wasn’t far from the station house and well vetted by Voight. You trusted it well enough.

When you woke up the following morning after Jay met Leah you barely wanted to get out of bed. It was only a matter of time before news spread of him being back. No one gossiped more than first responders. Avoiding Hailey when you were pregnant had been a feat in itself. You worked the truck for the first few months up until you got hurt and Kelly threatened to take away your position on squad completely if you didn’t move to light duty.  The times intelligence and fifty one ended up on the same calls Stella and Sylvie were amazing in running interference. You told them it was just because she was a reminder of Jay you didn’t want to face, you prayed they never figured it out.

You laid there for the longest until her little cries filled the air. “I’m coming babygirl” you called out and tossed your blanket off. She could give a damn less about any drama. All she knew was she needed her mommy to get her a bottle and a dry diaper to get her ready for the day.

You parked your truck behind Stella’s jeep and took a deep breath. You could do this. You could face this. This place was yours. The people inside were your family. They always had your back. Kelly and Stella fought for you. Matt and Sylvie comforted you. Violet crawled in the bed and supported you while you gave birth. They would never turn their back on you.

You grabbed everything you needed and opened your door, the cool air brushing across your face made you breathe a little easier. 

______________________

The moment you stepped into the bays Sylvie, Stella and Violet came running at you. “Did you hear?” Stella asked and you shook your head, eyes wide “I don’t think so?” “Jay’s back. Matt saw him with Will this morning” Sylvie told you and your stomach hit your feet, fuck that was fast.

You prayed to anyone and everything listening that your face didn’t come anywhere in the vicinity of betraying your thoughts. You shrugged “Not like he could call me. I changed my number after the issues” your story had been that Leah was the result of a one night stand that the guy was just a bad decision all around. You’d told everyone you’d gone out a few nights after Jay left, which just so happened to have been Mouse’s birthday so your story was believable that you were depressed enough to end up drunk in some random guy's bed. 

You’d had to fake a few harassing phone calls and texts but it protected Jay’s name by selling your story and kept a confrontation with Hailey from happening. 

Stella laughed “He’s gonna be surprised when he does see you. Baby and all” you cut your eyes at her “My baby is the least of his concern. If he’s back now, shouldn't he be worried about a job and his ex wife?”   all three of them started laughing at that and your shoulders loosened a bit. Ok, that’s good. They were laughing which meant they believed your bullshit, right?

Matt walked up “Ladies, shouldn’t you four be getting to work” you shot him a grin “Captain I’m on Squad three” Kelly whistled from where he was sitting in his recliner “Get to work Wildflower” and you rolled your eyes playfully “Fine Sev” and he grinned. See, this was why you loved this bunch.

Violet hooked her arm through yours as the two of you headed inside so you could shove your bag into your locker. “So, how was your two days off?” you shrugged “I cleaned, slept and washed laundry” and nodded “Productive”  you laughed “Not that glamorous of a life there Vi. Single mama and all. Why do you think I always make sure you keep up with your birth control?”

She grinned “And I adore you for it”, the two of you walked through the common area and Sam turned from where he was pouring coffee “Ladies, you two want a cup?” “Yes please” you told him and he nodded “Coming right up” 

Jay was trying to listen to his new boss. He would be working in private security. They worked in tandem with CPD but it was a lot lower risk and a lot more money. He would no longer be bringing danger home with him. When he first signed on for the job it was simply because he was just tired of everything he’d dealt with during his time in intelligence, now? Now all he could think about was a tiny pink bundle that fit so well in his hands and looked so much like you but had his hue of eyes.

“Halstead, you good?” he nodded “Yes sir. Little bit of jet lag” he replied and Stevenson nodded “Understandable. You won’t really be doing much today, just going over our systems mainly. They’re not that much different than you’re used to but just familiarize yourself with them you know?” He nodded “Yes sir” “Good, come with me” he stood to follow the other man through the building. “So Jay, tell me a little more about yourself. Got any family? Kids?”

Jay’s first thought was to gush about Leah. He’d just met her but god she was perfect. He wanted to talk about her but he had promised. “Um, no not yet” he felt his stomach knot with the lie. Fuck, he didn’t like feeling like he was denying her. He would simply because you asked. “Um I got divorced before I deployed so not really any time for anything else” he added and Stevenson laughed “I get that man. Well with this job it’s not easy but it’s definitely not as much bullshit as you had to eat working intelligence”

“Good, I couldn't handle any more of that” he replied with a short laugh. 

You’d worked two wrecks and a water rescue. At least the day had seen fit to not give you much time to sit and think. You finally had a moment to catch your breath so you flopped down in one of the many chairs that were around the table in the bay. Food was being cooked and your stomach was growling but you needed some fresh air. You hadn’t felt truly alone before this moment. No one knew what you were going through and you were honestly terrified.You didn’t know what to do, how to deal with this. 

You pulled out your phone and stared at the photo of Leah that was your wallpaper. “Babygirl I’ll protect you if it’s the last thing I do” “Everything ok?” you snatched your head around to see Stella and Sylvie standing at the end of the table “How long have you two been standing there?” 

Stella nodded towards your phone “Long enough to hear you promise to protect Leah if it’s the last thing you do” you nodded “Just thinking” they exchanged a look “Did something happen?” Sylive asked and you shook your head, slipping your phone into your pocket “No, is food ready?” they nodded so you stood “Let’s go eat then. I’m hungry”

___________________

Can I see her tonight? You stared at the text from Jay for far too long before finally sending back Not tonight, ok? You knew you told him that he could see her but he’d just met her last night. You didn’t to do an every day thing.

Ok. Let me know when was his response. You took a deep breath and slipped your phone into your pocket. You could do this, you’d survived this far. You would continue to survive.

“Hey baby” you spoke lightly as Leah cooed, grabbing your fingers. Jay wanted to come see her. You’d kept him away for the last two weeks since he’d been home, using your work as an excuse. “I want him to be able to see you, I wouldn’t want to keep you from him but I also don’t want to hurt him either” you whispered, letting her play with your fingers.

You told him to go out with Will and Kevin tonight. He needed to see his brother, his friends. He texted you daily to check on her, you. You hadn’t told him you’d been at Mouse’s grave when he called you earlier. Hell you needed someone to talk to. You’d sat under the tree his parents had bought the plot next to, holding Leah while she napped. He loved Hailey enough to marry her, he had a chance to get her back now. He had a new job, a new start. He could have a new life without all the old issues. You were an old issue. You brought memories of the past, memories of pain and so much baggage.

You just wished he would have forgotten about you all together. That would’ve made things so much easier for everyone. If he would’ve forgotten about you, he never would’ve come to your place and never would’ve found out about her. 

She cooed louder and you laughed “Ok ok. I’ll get us both so food ma’am. You don’t have to get all fussy Butt” and scooped her up. You stared down at her for a moment, her seafoam eyes squinting. Why did she have to have those eyes?

Jay stood next to Will, sipping his beer as Kevin racked the pool balls. He was adjusting to his new job. It was a walk in the park compared to intelligence, he was getting paid pretty well and he wasn’t getting shot at every day. “How’s Wildflower? I ain’t seen her around in a minute man” Kevin asked, cutting his eyes up at Jay. Jay shrugged “I’ve only talked to her a couple times since I got back. She seems ok. That baby of hers is adorable” Kevin grinned “Little Leah? Oh that angel is!”

Jay took a long swig of his beer to hide his proud grin. He knew she was adorable. Will nodded “Those two are both strong as hell. I thought I nearly lost Wildflower and Leah that time she got hurt” Jay couldn’t stop his head from how fast it whipped around towards Will “What?” 

Will raised an eyebrow “She didn’t tell you?” Jay shook his head “No” Kevin grimaced “She worked pretty solid the first few months till she had a close call. Nearly died and lost little Leah. It was bad but she healed up pretty good” Jay nodded slowly “Good that she didn’t die or lose her baby” he was hoping he didn’t look as damn stricken as he felt. You’d nearly died, both of you. He felt sick, honestly.

The idea of you being dead and him having no idea? It ripped his fucking heart out and stomped on it. Would he have ever known? Would he have just come home looking for you and someone else be in your apartment? Would Will have had to take him to your grave? Then christ if he would’ve found out you were pregnant when you died on top of it? If he had lost his best friend, the woman he…well you and his baby? Without ever even knowing? He couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around it.

“Ok, that’s enough talking about Wildflower. You two know she hates being the topic of conversation” he grabbed a pool cue and went to line up a shot when he heard Tyler Greene, some beat cop that Kevin had spoken to that was sitting at the bar scoff.

You cut his eyes up “What’s your issue Greene?” he asked and Greene shrugged “Isn’t Wildflower that firefighter chick that don’t even know who the hell the father of her baby is? Doesn’t seem like she had any standards to me” Jay moved without a second thought, he was across the bar with one of Greene’s arms twisted behind his back and his face shoved into the bar “Say it again asshole, I fucking dare you”

“Jay back off man!” Kevin urged, grabbing his arm. “Naw, Tyler here has something to say. Let him” Kevin shook his head “He’s sorry man..aren’t ya Greene?” Greene nodded “S-Sorry”

Jay snatched the man up and spun him around to have him by the collar “Watch your mouth when you’re talking about people because you don’t know who the hell is listening”  then shoved him “Get the hell out of here” 

Kevin and Will both were staring at him afterwards and he shrugged “What?” Kevin shook his head “I was about to hit him so you just saved my hand” he nodded “Ok then let’s finish the damn game”

_______________________

Jay was walking out of the bar to his truck when Will called his name so he stopped to look back at his brother. “Yeah man, what’s up?” Will walked closer to him and stared him in the eyes until it was uncomfortable “What are you doing?” he asked with a nervous laugh and Jay shook his head “Realizing how fucking stupid I am”

“Wow, ok? Can I go?” Jay asked and Will shook his head “No, we need to talk” “About?” Jay asked so Will took a step closer, lowering his voice to no one passing by would hear him say “My niece”  Jay felt his hands go cold. He hadn’t meant for Will to find out, you asked him for no one to know.

“Will, don’t” he pleaded and Will’s eyebrows scrunched together “Why?” “She begged me not to tell anyone” Will shook his head “I don’t understand. Why not tell me?”

Jay shook his head “I don’t know. Protecting me in the way she seen fit? Man please just keep your mouth shut” Will sighed “Fine but she’s my niece, I almost lost her, I care about Wildflower too. Even if she thought you weren’t coming back. That hurts that she didn’t trust me”

Jay found himself getting defensive with his own brother too, “Hey, back off her. She went through a lot too. She found out her best friend got her pregnant then left and chose to do it solo. Please don’t put this on her right now” Will nodded “I’d never stress her out but when she’s ready, I’d really like to see my niece and her to know that I’m her uncle”

“I’ll tell her, the ball is firming in her court though. I’m not giving her an excuse to push me away” Jay told him with a small smile.  Will nodded slowly then a grin slipped onto his face “You have a kid” Jay nodded, a mirror grin on his own face “I do and she’s perfect” Will pulled him into a hug “My little brother is a father!”

You had just got out of the shower when your phone started ringing. You glanced to see Jay’s name. You clicked it and heard him answer “Can I please come see you two?”

You closed your eyes and swallowed hard “Ok” “Ok?” he echoed and you shook your head “Just come over Halstead”

______________________

You opened the door and stepped back to let Jay walk into your apartment next to you.  “What’s the deal with Tyler Greene?” he asked and you raised an eyebrow “Hey Jay, how are you? How’s the job going?”

He turned to face you with a smile “I’m sorry flower. Last night. Me, Kev and Will were talking about you. Nothing bad or revealing. That asshole started saying shit like you didn’t have standards because you didn’t know who the father of your child was?”

You shrugged “It happens. Should’ve seen the look on the guy’s face that Boden had everyone fighting over who got to throw him out of fifty one when I was pregnant” his face fell “How much did you deal with that?” you shook your head “Doesn’t matter. It’s just I had to have a believable story. That meant swallowing a lot of shit Jay. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself and what I can't, I can deal with”

“You don’t have to deal with anything. I’m here. Let me carry some of it” he offered and you shook your head “We’ve gone over this Jay. I’m not ruining your life”

“Our daughter could never ruin my life” he whispered and you smiled slightly “Hailey is single. You loved her enough to marry her. You could have another chance. You could find someone else. Hell you may end up leaving Chicago. Don’t allow us to stand in the way of that. I didn't keep her for a bargaining chip,I kept  her because I wanted to”

He shook his head “I’ll make a deal with you” you crossed your arms “You’re in no position to bargain with me but I have to admit I am intrigued” he grinned “Go out with me as friends! Bring her. Spend time with me like we used to. You’re still my best friend” you sighed “Jay I don’t want people to talk” he shrugged “Sweetheart I don’t care”

“I guess something like lunch or if I run into you at the market and we walk around together doesn’t hurt” you offered and he grinned “Thank you” then his grin fell “There is one thing you need to know but I didn’t tell him. He figured it out the other night from a mixture of how I reacted at finding out that you almost died along with Leah” he trailed off and stared at you for a moment.

You shrugged “I’ll tell you more about that after you finish what you’re saying” he nodded “Will knows” you scrubbed a hand down your face and walked over to the couch, flopping down on it “Jay!” 

“Flower, baby I didn’t tell him” he promised and you cut your eyes up “Don’t call me baby when you don't mean it and don’t act like this isn’t a big deal Jay. I’ve held this secret close at hand for well over a year. I have made myself look horrible to keep your name out of the mud. I have had Kelly and Stella fight for me, Matt and Sylvie comfort me and the day I gave birth? Violet climbed in the bed to support me. I care about you so much Jay and she is your daughter and I wouldn’t try to take her but don’t act like you know better than me. I won’t have it getting out she’s yours. That’s why I gave her my last name, why I put no one on the birth certificate. You’re free and clear Jay”

He sat down next to you “I don’t want to be free and clear. Flower, I’d be here even if you didn’t have babygirl. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone, always have. He doesn’t want to start any trouble. He just wants to know his niece” 

You took a deep breath and nodded slowly “I’ll think about it Jay but this? All of it? I never thought you were coming home” he bumped your knee with his “Told ya I’d find my way back to you” you shook your head with a small smile “I’m so happy you’re home. I don’t know if I said that but I am. That feeling of you being outside the door? Whole and alive? Second only to her being healthy”

He grinned “I missed you every damn I was gone. I thought about you, worried about you, hoped you were ok. I thought after what happened you hated me..” he trailed off and you laughed “Why would I hate you for good sex? He barked out a laugh and you shook your head but grinned proudly “On a serious note, I will think about it and if he can keep a secret, just for now I’ll tell Will the truth”

“And I’m taking you and Leah to breakfast tomorrow?” he asked so you grinned “You’re a pain in my ass, I forgot how much so” he shook his head “Naw, I’m a delight” Leah started making noises so you hit his leg “Come on delightful. Our little monster is up and in need a bottle and dry diaper before you can hold her”

”Lead the way” he replied, letting you pull him to his feet. 

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

[ilium-ilia]

In Limbo

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | mafia!au | masterlist

Chapter Twenty-One: hyacinth; purple

tw: none

Simon’s knuckles split on the first punch, but he can’t stop now that he’s started. 

Shockwaves ripple through his arms until he feels the dull, thrumming ache in his shoulderblades, and even then he persists. Right hook. Then left. A wide swing with his elbow. Each time his body makes contact, he wishes his target was something tangible. Something that would scream and groan and choke on its own spit and blood as they fought—as Simon sought penance. Instead, the sand-filled cloth does nothing but sigh as the chain connecting it to the ceiling creaks beneath the weight. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been at it. Time seems to warp differently in Terminus’ basement. Price always keeps a fair amount of workout equipment for anyone to use as they wish, yet it’s not properly kept—the walls are full of chipped paint and the ceiling dips as if it holds the weight of the world. As soon as Simon got off work, he hunkered down to lift weights with subpar rock music blasting through the ancient speakers, but it’s not enough. Nothing is enough. 

The anger doesn’t quell. The yearning for ichor refuses to quiet. Each time Simon’s fist meets the punching bag before him, all he can think about is how he’d much rather put it through the cinderblock walls, or through a pair of sickly green eyes. Green like an infection. Green like radiation. 

Green like rot. 

He thinks that if he can punch a hole through the universe, he can distort time. He can walk into Tsar Trading before you had ever sat in that wretched chair—before Marco ever laid a finger on you—and water the earth with one more unmourned degenerate. But he can’t. Now, he’s stuck with the mental image of your fear; of you looking up at a man who smiles with unabashed perversion as he does what he wants with you. If he closes his eyes he can still feel you trembling against him. He can still feel the hot tears on his chest. He can still hear your voice cracking. 

I was worried that if you ever knew what Marco did to me t-that you wouldn’t like me anymore because you’d think I’m gross…

Something peels. It shrivels like the eye-patterned bark of an aspen tree, withered and crumbling. Simon pauses, chest heaving with each panting breath that he sucks in as he looks at the state of his fists. Briney sweat dribbles into his eyes, burning the scleras. Squinting through the sting, he sees the way the skin of his knuckles parts like dried riverbeds at the sweltering apex of summer. Blood weeps from the wounds. His skin puckers as it slides along his wrist.

He craved ichor so terribly and yet the only taste he’s gotten has been his own. 

Huffing, Simon finally forces himself away from the punching bag. Stiff knees give out as he sits in a chair that creaks beneath his weight and he allows the stillness of the weight room to wash over him as he stares at the floor. Florid liquid seeps into the navy of his jeans, darkening the fabric, but he can’t get himself to care about the stain. 

Simon has never felt so useless in his entire life. Looking after you was supposed to be simple. Keeping you safe was supposed to be easy. It’s all he knows how to do—fight. Protect. Yet, his job was ruined years before it was ever bequeathed to him—how can he kill a ghost? How can he kill a memory that lingers like nicotine in the fine strands of hair? 

Quick feet tap down the wooden stairs, and the dull thumps cut through the music loud enough for Simon to quirk his ears. Rubbing at his nose, he wipes his knuckles off on his jeans, smearing the blood along his thighs until there’s nothing put a pink stain on the back of his hand. Staring at the door, he awaits for it to swing open. 

Expecting Johnny, Simon’s rather surprised to catch sight of Kyle. 

He enters the room with his phone in hand. The screen illuminates his face as he scrolls with pinched brows and tight lips. He’s come prepared—donning a light cotton t-shirt and joggers, the bag slung over his shoulder makes him appear as if he’s been plucked out of a men’s sportswear magazine. The growling rock music eventually snags his attention, and Kyle’s eyes break away from his phone with a hum. 

“Oh. Morning, Riley,” he greets stiffly. 

Not having looked at his phone or a clock in hours, Simon decides to take his word for it. “Morning.” 

Pausing, Kyle allows his eyes to sweep over Simon. He does it cordially. Someone who didn’t know any better would have missed it, but not him. Blood on jeans, dark circles beneath even darker eyes, sweat soaked shirt—Kyle sees it all. 

“Late night?” he inquires carefully as he treads further into the room. 

“Can’t sleep,” Simon shrugs. 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

As Kyle dumps his bag onto the floor, Simon sneaks his phone from out of his pocket. There are no new messages from you, which is something he expects. You stopped replying to his texts around one in the morning, hopefully having fallen asleep, and it’s still too early for you to be up yet. Your last correspondence had led him to believe you were feeling better than you were this morning, yet that seed of doubt still roots too deep in his mind for him to pluck it out. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Kyle then asks. He’s sitting on the bench press cushioning with his elbows on his knees—relaxed, and in no rush. 

Simon nearly scoffs, but he holds himself back in fear of coming off too crass. Canines digging into the insides of his cheeks, he flexes his fingers and tries not to hiss at the sting of raw, stretching skin. 

“Reckon this might be above your paygrade, Garrick,” he says with dull humor. 

“Yeah,” Kyle replies, eyes flickering to Simon’s hands. “Might be.” 

A sepulchral cloud hangs heavy in the air, and Simon finds himself wanting to bark at the dull atmosphere. Though he’s been a good boy for a long time, something within him aches and writhes. It yearns to hear a scream. It revels in its virulent desire—one that he has to shove back in his ribcage to keep himself sane. 

“How’re things with Lucy?” Simon asks instead. 

He nearly laughs at the way Kyle’s lips quirk into a smile at the mere mention of the name. “Good. Yeah, things are really good. She’s a bit excited about getting Valentine’s day off work this year. Don’t think she’s had it off the last two, three years or so. We’ve got a big date night planned.” 

“Yeah?” Simon teases. “Gonna be makin’ grandbabies for your dad, then?” 

Kyle’s laugh is pitiful. Airy—half-hearted. Still he nods as his head falls, and he raises it just in time to answer. “Yeah, he’d like that.” 

“You’ve got plenty of time,” Simon excuses. 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t.” 

Though most of the bleeding from Simon’s knuckles is stunted, there’s still drops that slip through the cracks. Nodding, he rubs his hands on his jeans once more to get rid of the evidence of his fury. “How’s he doing?” 

“About as well as usual,” Kyle says with a shrug. His smile fades like snow in the wind. “He’s back in the ICU.” 

“Is it his liver again?” Simon asks with furrowed brows. 

“Nah, pneumonia,” he replies flippantly. “He gets it every winter, which is why it’s infuriating that the doctors ignored him for so long, especially given his health has been shit for the last twenty years. Spent most of the night with him, actually. Until Lucy kicked me out, anyway.” 

All that frustration that once festered in his chest slowly fades as Simon watches Kyle’s shoulders slump. “She’ll take good care of him.” 

“Yeah… yeah, she always does.” 

Caught in a caprice, Kyle’s somber attitude switches to something lighter as he leans his hands back against the bench press. His eyes warm as he stares at the floor as if watching a film ticking in the back of his skull. 

“She keeps… getting me things. Little gifts. I keep telling her not to, y’know with mum sending me all that hush money and all, I’ve got more than enough disposable income than most. She still does it anyway, and tells me that she loves me too much not to.” Pausing, Kyle shakes his head. “She does so much for me. For my dad, too. I’d give the whole world for her, man.” 

Simon’s chuckle comes soft. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

Suddenly, Kyle’s eyes dart across the dilapidating room as he grins. “Yeah, reckon you do. Heard you’ve been getting comfy with Chip now, that right?” 

“Johnny needs to keep his mouth shut.” 

“Nah, I heard that from Mrs. Price, actually.” 

Always getting caught in your gravity, Simon’s thoughts wander back to you. He tries to stave off the acrimonious memories of your trembling skin against his in favor of something softer. The skin of your forehead against his lips. Your form curled and burrowed beneath blankets in bed—in his bed. The idea of it has him feeling silly. He’s been here locked up in some basement punching a bag when he could have been holding you all along. 

“Yeah,” Simon finally admits. “She’s been stayin’ with me for a couple weeks now.” 

“That’s what she mentioned. Said Chip’s apartment had water damage or something of the sort,” Kyle nods. “Reckon the two of you will be married by spring at this rate.” 

Scoffing, Simon taps his phone against his thigh before shoving it back into his pocket. “Forgot you’re a comedian.” 

Kyle innocently shrugs his shoulders. “All I’m saying is that Lucy and I will be expecting an invite. Summer at the latest.” 

“I wouldn’t count on it.” 

Simon spends only a little while longer in the basement with Kyle before he’s cleaning his hands upstairs in the bathroom. The bleeding has stopped, leaving nothing but oval shaped wounds along his first two knuckles. Fluorescent pink paints the peaks with irritated, peeling skin that cries whenever he clenches his fist, but he ignores the pain as he grips his steering wheel and drives through London’s morning rush. 

Fatigued muscles begin to contract in his upper back and in the deep tissues of his thighs while he drives, but he ignores the way his body attempts to call him home. (To you. To where you rest curled among his mattress and pillows). 

There’s something he needs to do. 

The florist is picking at her nails when Simon enters the store. Wiry hair pokes out in haphazard spikes among the bun on her head, and she attempts to use a headband to keep her grey hairs from cowlicking upwards, though its endeavor proves to be futile. The bell ringing on the door catches her attention, and her crows feet deepen when she catches sight of Simon sauntering into the store. 

“Good morning. Can I help you find anything?” 

Her Brummie accent washes over Simon, and somehow he feels his guard let down just a little. “Just looking.” 

And he does—look. His thick fingers brush over silky daisy petals and he prods at tangy scented stems and greenery. Multi-colored cellophane glints in the morning sun with prismatic fractals that paint his fingers every color of the rainbow, though he finds his eyes wandering over to the tan floral paper on his right. It smells like the fresh newspaper his mother would always read with her mid-morning tea every Sunday when he was a child. 

“What’s the occasion?” The florist, having nothing better to do, has been tailing behind the large beast that is Simon Riley as he weaves around displays like a thorn in a field of wildflowers. “Valentine’s Day?” 

Simon shakes his head. “No. Just… wanna get ‘er flowers.” 

“Do you know what kind she likes?” she asks as she fixes her oversized spectacles on her nose. 

Again, he shakes his head. “Dunno. She’s never mentioned it before. But she likes foxes, got any of those critters in the back?” he deadpans. 

Grinning, the florist holds her finger up as she takes a step back. “I think I’ve got just the thing.” 

Simon drives home slower than he ever has before, worried about damaging the precious plants seated in his passenger’s seat. He’s half tempted to buckle them up after he has to slam on the brakes when a student driver merges without bothering to engage their indicator, but he holds himself back and curses beneath his breath instead. The sweet sillage of garden roses and mums fills the interior of his car as if he’s being held hostage by some department store worker begging him to buy an overpriced bottle of perfume. His eyes feel heavy, and somehow his knuckles seem to throb worse now than they did before, but he ignores the feeling as he parks in the garage and heads into the house with his gift. 

The only thing harder than picking out the perfect floral arrangement for you is figuring out how to prop the damn thing up when he didn’t buy a vase to go with it. Wrapped in floral paper and ribbon, it won’t stand on its own, but he feels odd just letting it sit on the kitchen counter. Does it look better propped up? No, no that looks worse. Why does it look so pathetic lying down? Should he wake you up and give it to you? 

“Si?” 

Your groggy voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and Simon finds himself spinning on his heels to face you. Still dressed in your nightclothes, his heart softens at the sight of you. He wants to scoop you up. Drag you to bed and keep you close. Drown in your scent as he lets the thud of your heart against his own lull him to sleep. 

“Did you just get home?” you ask as you trot across the kitchen. 

“Late night at work,” he excuses. Still clutching the bouquet in his hands, he stiffly holds it out for you. “I got you something.” 

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you allow a soft gasp to escape your lips as you’re fully able to comprehend the item he presents. Gently cupping it in your palms, you breathe in the scent of fresh flowers while you study the floral paper it’s wrapped in—foxes. Tiny foxes sitting proudly with fluffy tails and pointy noses, leaning against one another for support. The pattern dots the paper in a mosaic. Your heart swells—you can’t recall a time when you were gifted flowers for a reason other than bereavement. 

Your bottom lip juts out in a pout, eyes beginning to well with tears before you can even make sense of the overwhelming ardor that drowns your heart. “Simon, I… you’re so sweet. Oh, I love them.” 

Temporarily placing the bouquet on the counter, you wrap your arms around Simon with a strength that nearly knocks the wind out of him. He smells strongly of tobacco and sweat, and a thick warmth radiates from his body like summertime humidity. Chuckling, he holds you as he rubs his fingers along your spine. 

“They’ve got little foxes and everything!” you continue. 

“I thought you might like that,” he says while pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

After you feel you’ve sufficiently crushed Simon’s ribcage to the best of your ability, you pull away and cup his cheeks in your palms. They’re cold to the touch, still bitter and angry from the algid February weather. Still, you pull him to you, tilting your head so that your noses don’t knock together when you kiss. Hands wandering down to your hips, his fingers press into your skin as he hums, more than content.

When you pull away, you look at him and feel yourself begin to melt in his arms. “Thank you.” 

“Anythin’ for you, baby,” he says before placing one more chaste kiss against your lips. 

Grinning, you turn your attention back to the flowers. Your fingertips are drawn to the petals. You squeeze them, but not hard enough to bruise—only enough to feel every fiber that attempts to pulse beneath your skin. 

It’s in this moment that you realize the full capacity in which your life has changed since Simon snuck his way into your heart. When the world used to end for you—when it would quake beneath your feet, awaking a chasm meant to swallow you whole—it took so long to rebuild. You’d have to slap up every wall of every home you ever lived in just to put yourself back together again. Worst of all, you did it alone. 

Yet when the world ended yesterday—when you cut yourself open and allowed Simon to look at all the noisome wounds that have haunted you for ages—it’s now as if it had never happened. You’re still in his arms. You can still kiss his lips. He saw that rot and now it’s as if it hasn’t existed in a long, long time. 

“Gettin’ a little tired, sweetheart. Gonna go lay down for a bit,” Simon says, wrapping his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back. 

Humming, your lips part to respond to him, but you cut yourself off when you notice the marks on his knuckles. “Simon, your hand,” you gasp. 

“It’s nothing,” he assures. “Was boxing at the gym.” 

Comforted by his words—and the fact that there is a lack of bruises anywhere else on his body—you let your guard down as the two of you begin to sway. His lassitude seeps into you. Warmth bleeds like the transfer of fond memories, and though you roused yourself from bed not too long ago, you feel your eyes begin to grow heavy. 

“Gonna come to bed with me, sweetheart?” Simon hums. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

You giggle as he begins to drag you back away from the counter, and your heart quivers with effusive desire. Before you turn around to follow Simon to the bedroom, your eyes catch sight of something that forces your chest to tighten. There, on the counter next to your bouquet, lies a long rectangular box. Glistening in red foil, you recognize it to be newly bought toothpaste with the words great cinnamon flavor! stamped across it. 

Smiling, you snatch Simon’s hand into your own before following him to bed.

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[uki01]

Can you do friends to lovers headcanons for Movie! Shadow and Silver the Hedgehog! Reader?

”Just stay a little longer, won’t you?”

Movie! Shadow The Hedgehog and Silver The Hedgehog x Reader (Separately).

Author’s Note: Thanks for this request!

Warning: Mentioned of Death in Shadow’s part, Small Angst, don’t worry there’s fluff and comfort.

Movie! Shadow The Hedgehog

You were a very close friend of Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Tom and Maddie cause of Wade Whipple.

You even became a family member to them (In Sonic, Tails and Knuckles eyes at least). Maddie and Tom enjoyed you as well.

So after a few months after the whole saving the world from being destroyed, you met The Ultimate Lifeform himself, Shadow through Sonic ever since he was introduced to the Wachowski family.

At first he kept his distance and you respected his boundaries, though you did try to do small talk which Shadow lets you but never really talked back unless necessary.

But he then started talking you as well, having a full on conversation about whatever came to mind.

After that, you two become really good friends, close ones, it was pretty hard since he was a loner preferred that way but it was so worth it.

You learn about his past, of how his best friend and older sister figure, Maria died from an explosion 50 years ago. You felt so terrible for him and can understand why he went out of his way to do this.

He then asked you this.

”Y/N… do you think I’m… bad?”

You looked confused and asked him.

“What made him say that?”

”I almost got this planet terminated, I was so blinded by rage that I didn’t see the gentler and softer side of this planet, I could’ve gotten everyone killed, everyone including… you… aren’t you mad at me for almost doing a foolish thing?…”

You put some thought into it then responded with this, this what made Shadow fallen for you.

”You aren’t bad Shadow, you were just very upset for someone you loved dearly that had an unfortunate death, sure blowing up the planet was insane but.. you had your own reason, everyone has a reason to do such outrageous lengths just for their loved ones, everyone would do anything to avenge their loved ones or bring them justice. That’s what I really like about you Shadow, you would do anything to protect someone you love, everyone including me loves that in someone.”

And that’s what made Shadow fall for you.

After that night, for a good few weeks Shadow has fallen for you, but he didn’t know since he has never felt romantic feelings before so this frustrated him quite a lot.

Maddie and Sonic catches on and asks Shadow what’s wrong, Shadow tells them what’s going on and Maddie is excited and Sonic is already teasing him.

”Awww! You have a crush on Y/N that’s so cute Shadow!”

”Wow Shadow! Never took you for someone to fall for somebody but hey! Life is a surprise!”

And of course, Shadow is confused by this.

”Crush? What do you mean? I don’t want to crush Y/N I would kill them, I would never do such a thing.”

”No no Shadow! It means you have romantic feelings towards her, like you know your best friend slash older sister? It’s like that! Love but different type! You want to be a thing with her like a partner that wants to be romantically involved with her! You know what I mean?”

”I see…”

Shadow took some thought into this and then asked Maddie how does he ask you to be his girlfriend/boyfriend which made Maddie even more excited and Sonic teasing even more, he got punched by Shadow after that.

After a few months, Shadow asked you to meet on top of a hill at exactly around 4pm, which you agreed to, left you excited and confused.

Once the time hits, you immediately make your way to where Shadow said to meet. Once you made it to your location, you see Shadow with a basket, mat, drinks and candles, it was a picnic!

This made your heart do flips and smiled at the sight.

”Aww Shadow was this all for me?”

”Mhm, come, sit down, don’t want for the food to get cold.”

You giggled and made your way, you two started eating what Shadow made (from Maddie’s help), talked for a bit, even have your moments of laughter then watched the stars.

You looked over to Shadow who was fixated on the stars, then looked back up, decided to strike a conversation.

”Woah, these stars look pretty tonight, what do you think Shadow?”

”I agree, they look beautiful as ever.”

”They do.”

”Not as beautiful as you though.”

That caught you off guard as you stopped to look at him, he looks back with his stoic but soft expression.

This made your face blush a bit but giggled anyways.

”Gee, what’s gotten into your mind today?”

”You Y/N.”

”Wait, what?”

He fully turned his body towards you then sighed, getting ready for what he has to say

“Ever since Maria had… died, I thought the only way to bring justice was to destroy this planet, turns out I was wrong, there’s a lot of beautiful things on his planet that I didn’t even notice myself, you, Y/N showed me that, still treated me like how Maria did, not some… freak… you made me change my perspective on myself after our conversation one night, you’ve done a lot for me Y/N, so I want to do the same for you.”

Your face turns red, but still listened in, your heart warmed up and your soul fully touched by generous words.

”Y/N, do you want to be my boyfriend/girlfriend?”

He hands you your favourite bouquet of flowers.

Your face dropped when he asked this, this worried Shadow, thinking you were going to reject him. “Are you kidding?…”

His face slightly dropped and so did his ears, this is it, you were going to—

“YES!”

You shouted out loud with happiness, Shadow’s expression lightened up a little as he hugs you close and so did you, kissing his forehead which made him shudder a bit.

”You have no idea how happy I am my love…”

”I can only imagine honey… I love you Shadow…”

”I love you with all my heart and till the end of time, Y/N..”

And just like that, you two become a couple, Maddie was happy and squealing with joy, Sonic was teasing you and Shadow but was happy for both of you, Tails excited and congratulated you two, Knuckles was proud of Shadow for his bravery and honour, he was certainly happy for you two and Tom was proud of Shadow and applauded for you two.

You two become the most cutest couple in Green Hills, you wouldn’t changed it for the world for this happy and special moment, it was the same for Shadow, even if he didn’t show that much excitement, he was extremely happy to have you as his partner.

Silver The Hedgehog

You met Silver through Sonic when Silver was stopping by from the future.

You were pretty intrigued so you strike up a conversation with him and it was pretty awkward right off the bat since Silver lacked socials skills.

But he did talk, just awkwardly and you reassured him to take his time and as time went on you two were talking like a boat going down a stream, peacefully.

The two of you started talking more often now, with Silver always visiting you from the future, practically becoming close friends.

He explained about his future and how it’s ruined, and the process of meeting Sonic. You felt bad for the guy.

”I just… wish I was useful more before it all went terrible, why did it have to happen to my future! And I went and almost killed the wrong guy and trusted a lunatic! This was all my fault… Am I?… a terrible person?…”

You listened intently to his venting, then said this after he asked if he was a bad person (spoiler: he wasn’t), that changed you and Silver’s relationship.

”You aren’t a terrible person Silver, you were doing thought was right, to save your future, you deserve and good life Silver… a better life, an easy life, good guys like you shouldn’t be going through such tragedy, but on the brighter side, you met your friends, Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Cream, Cheese, Blaze, Rouge, Shadow… I think? Anyway! Regardless, even if bad things happen there’s always good things too, I believe in you Silver.”

And that’s what hit Silver, that moment right there, what made him fallen for you.

After that, these past few months have been stressful for Silver, but for a different reason, that reason was you.

That conversation you and Silver had, made that stutter even more when he’s around you.

Blaze noticed this right at the beginning of his crush on you, she asked Silver what’s wrong, which he respond sheepishly.

”I have this… crush on Y/N, after that conversation me and them had, my heart just did flips, but I don’t know if they likes me back.. what if they don’t like me back, what if I confessed they would feel weirded out, angry at me, confused at me or even pitying me and our friendship will never be the same! What if-“

”Silver calm yourself, I know Y/N for long enough as I’ve been here with them, they are the most nicest, considerate, confident and outgoing person ever, they would never say it like that or feel that, the worst they can say is no, and if they do you must accept that but… I think they feel the same way, they do go out of their way to make sure your comfortable and settled in properly whenever you come to visit after all.”

”Your… your right Blaze, I’m sorry for that…”

”No need to apologise Silver.”

”But, what can I do to win their heart?”

”Give them gifts, something they like, just be yourself, they like honesty, and frankly you are the first person they would be around anyways, shouldn’t be too hard considering you two are close.”

”Okay, thanks Blaze..”

”Anytime Silver.”

After that pep talk from Blaze and few months passing by, Silver asked you to meet up where the two first met each other which you agreed too immediately, that got his muzzle blushing red.

Soon as you two met up, you just had a look around, remembering of how you two met, then Silver for the first time, starts the conversation.

”Do you remember the first time we met?”

”How could I forget, for guy that has terrifying powers, you sure stutter a lot, not that it’s bad it’s cute actually heheh.”

Silver’s face blushes from embarrassment and love too, he clears his throat.

”Yeah, just like you said, life sure has its surprises.”

”Mhm, but I gotta ask, why did you bring me here?”

”To… give you this.”

He pulls out a gift for you, which you happily accept and open the gift, to see a bracelet that had your name on it and your favourite colours.

”Oh, Silver…”

”I had some help from Amy, Cream & Cheese when making them, I hope you like it.”

”Like it? I love it!”

That made Silver smile, your smile. As you put it on you wore it proudly, which made Silver’s heart beat twice as faster than it was before.

He took a deep breath and looked at you in the eyes.

”Y/N, you are one of the most important people in my life, ever since I’ve met you, you’ve made me feel like I belonged here, always making sure I was comfortable, safe, healthy and happy, but what made me happier was you. You just being there, even if you weren’t doing anything, you just being there with me made me feel so happier and loved, you’ve done so much for me, now I want to do the same for you.”

He hands you a bouquet of flowers, your favourite ones too.

”Y/N, do you want to be my partner?”

You were shocked at this, he didn’t even stutter, fiddled his fingers, none of that, however Silver thinks your probably judging right now.

”Are you serious?…”

Oh no, he knew it was happening, you are going to-

“OF COURSE I WILL!”

Those four words just made Silver’s day, he swooped you up in his arms as you held the bouquet happily laughing together while hugging.

”Gotta say Silver, I am impressed at what you said, you didn’t stutter a single word.”

”Well, I wanted this to be perfect, so I practiced, just for you.”

”Awww, Silver, you just being here is already perfect enough for me.”

”Thank you Y/N.”

”Of course, I love you Silver.”

”I love you too, sweetheart.”

And that marks the day you two were a couple.

Blaze, Knuckles and Tails was happy for you both and congratulated you two, Amy and Cream & Cheese were cheering and excited, basically about to burst a bubble, Sonic and Rouge was teasing you two but was genuinely happy for both of you, Shadow didn’t care… but he was genuinely happy that you two found love.

You we’re enjoying every moment with Silver and wouldn’t want to change any of this, so did Silver, he would tear time itself just to see your beautiful face, your pretty eyes, gorgeous smile and everything else apart of you that makes you, you.

Author’s Note: This was so much fun to write! Took me long but it was worth it! Thank you so much for the request!

(This gif will never NOT be funny to me).

[jillsandwhichs]

What we Gain/Book 1/Chapter 3, Spring Cleaning

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Summary: The Levi squad goes to the very old Survey Corps/Scouts HQ. Reason being to learn more about Eren and his Titan ability. But first, cleaning time

WC: 3.2k

Rating: Mature/Gore/Smut

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Vera was trotting at a slow pace for you. The heat today was unbearable. The sunshine seemed to be beaming primarily on you. What have you done to be subjected to such torture? You hate the Sun and it's heat; You are much more a fan of Winter and snow. Just like yesterday everyone but you seems to be fine with it. You need to grow up, seriously.

Your horse was riding beside Levi's and everyone else was in front of the both of you. Eren even managed to use a horse properly and somehow better than Gunther who can't seem to ever keep Percy in check. Petra, Eld and Oulo were talking amongst themselves with Eren. You even seen Oulo speak to Eren which was surprising but you couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Captain, are there any set in orders for us once we reach the castle?" "We're going to deep clean every room we plan to use, even extras. We'll play it by ear after that." You gave him a firm nod. Seems like a good plan for now.

Just from where you all are, you could spot the castle off in the distance. It was just as Petra described. It's large and tall with cobblestone and brick surrounding the whole thing. It was a metallic color with tints of blue and white on it. You were excited. According to Oulo, it was once a place of royalty and high honor. You were never wealthy growing up so this'll be your first time ever in a place that was once ran by a monarchy.

"It's huge!" "Thank you Captain obvious." Oulo said to you. You scoffed. "Leave me be." "We get it, you grew up poor, you're an adult now so get used to new experiences." Oulo added on. You and him never fully got along. He's more a dick than Levi. Levi glared at Oulo. "Oulo." "Yes Captain?" "Don't talk to her like that." You then looked to Levi. You were confused. Anytime Oulo teases you, Levi ignores it or tells you to both stuff it.

Oulo just mumbled to himself and kept trotting forwards.

"You can't let him get to you." "I know." "Don't let some dumbass affect your pleasant work performance." Levi added. "I won't." You reassured him. Levi looked you up and down and nodded. He looked forward again and surpassed the entire group. "Put your horses up and rendezvous near the North entrance." He shouted out before having Lee ride off fast with him.

North entrance, got it.

-

You got off of Vera and hitched her to one of the countless wooden fences surrounding the area. She'd be good and stay there just for now. Once the stables are cleared out you can put her there. You turned to your right and saw Petra & Oulo speaking to each other and Eren was just a short distance in front of them. Gunther and Eld must've went off somewhere else, possibly to where Levi went.

You fed Vera a quick snack and adjusted her saddle. You don't want her to be uncomfortable. Vera is all you have, honestly.

Eventually, you were all at the North entrance and that was where Levi was. "I think I only told her but to the rest of you as well, it's cleaning time. Grab a broom or a rag and find a room. Get to it." Everyone groaned (Other than you and Eren) but they all proceeded to listen and do as the captain said. "And grab a handkerchief to cover your face, there are some inside near the entry."

Levi waited for all of you to enter in first. He wasn't wrong, this place definitely needs cleaned. "God." Eld coughed and tied the white cloth around his face. "Captain wasn't kidding." Eld then grabbed a rag and made his way to a random room.

Everyone sort of separated and found their own ways of cleaning. You planned to sweep, you're great at it. You picked up a handkerchief and tried to tie it around your face but your efforts were futile. You just couldn't get it to tie. "Ugh." You groaned, trying even harder but simply not being able to. "How is it that you make it into the scouts, getting on my team at that and yet, you can't tie a rag?" Levi teased you while walking up from behind you.

"I'm sorry Sir, my fingers just can't get it through it's loop." You tried it once more but each time the rag faltered. "Here, let me." Levi hummed. You let go and allowed him to tie it for you. His fingers worked the thick cloth skillfully and he tied it off tightly. "There. It won't fall off." "Thank you Levi." You said softly. You were grateful for his help. He looked you up and down. "Your thigh harnesses are loose." "What?" You looked down. Shit, they are loose.

You kneeled down and began to fix them.

"Get to cleaning right after that." "Yes Sir!" You replied loudly.

-

It's been about an hour. You swept about six rooms. Most were sleeping quarters and the other two were random rooms that could be used for anything. You find peace in cleaning. It is a calming chore for you. You can't help but hum a tune to yourself as you sweep. For a little bit, you wiped down the windows from the inside but Levi and Oulo were already doing that their selves. Sweeping it is.

The dust collected onto the bristles of the broom and onto the dustpan. It was pretty dirty on this floor. You occasionally found yourself coughing and needing a breath of fresh air. According to Levi, this place has been out of use for a few years now which answers the question as to why it's so putrid.

You ran your fingers through your hair and pulled it into a low ponytail. It kept getting in your face and it was a bother. As you did this, Petra walked in. "Hey Petra." "Hi! How is your cleaning coming along?" "Fine. Yours?" "I'm almost done. Captain told me to do some yard work since I finished in here." "That's good. More orders are always the best orders." You joked and that earned a giggle out of you.

"How do you feel about this kid Eren?" "I don't know. I haven't spoken to him much." "Same. He seems alright, but I'm still nervous." "Me too Petra, me too." You nodded, sticking your head out of the window to breathe in some nice smelling breezy air. "I heard Levi gave him a real beating. Is that right?" "He did. It was brutal. Eren forgave him though." "That's sweet, I think?" Petra laughed. "That makes Eren seem even weirder." "Tell me about it."

Petra stood up and stretched. "Well I'll leave you to it. Best of luck." "Thanks Petra." "See you later." "Bye."

She then left to continue with her work.

Shortly after Petra left, Levi came in. He seemed to have an irritated look on his face. Someone must've set him off. "Hello." You said kindly, sweeping up the last bit of dirt off of the floor. "Hey." Levi scanned the room. "It's a pleasure to see you can actually clean unlike the others." Levi scoffed to himself. He's clearly disappointed. "How did Eren do?" "How do you think?" That answered it for you.

You chuckled and looked at him. "If it's that much of a bother I don't mind cleaning after the others. Cleaning is kind of a safe haven." You said softly. Those words were a key to Levi's heart. He's a clean freak too. He hates messes and disgusting people. People who lack manners are his main pet peeve. A small smirk tugged on his lips but he played it off as if it were nothing. "I appreciate your offer but Eren and Eld but be the ones to clean it up; It is their job."

So it was Eren and Eld. What a surprise that Oulo wasn't topped off on that list.

"Understood." You gave him a nod. "How many rooms did you clean." "Seven now." "Take a break then." Levi sighed deeply, removing his handkerchief. "I can actually breathe in here. Well done." Levi praised you. That meant so much. Any appraisal from the captain is sacred. You remember the first time he gave you a real compliment.

You had taken down Gunther in a hand to hand training session with ease. You remember his face when Gunther hit the ground, hard. Not even Petra could pull it off, hence why she's ranked the lowest in that section. Once the training session had concluded, Levi went up to you and placed a hand on your back as he helped you up onto your horse (You were going for a ride).

"Good job on getting Gunther down. Someone had to put him in his place." "Thank you." You then rode off for a good hour or so. That entire ride, his words replayed in your mind. Ever since, he's complimented you from time to time and you can recall just about each one. He's sweet when he wants to be.

You snapped the memory from your head.

"Is there anything you want me to do? I can help Petra with the yard work." "No. She's fine. If you want to do something, meet me near the dining hall in an hour. I'd like to make tea for us all. Hange will be here later tonight, by the way." "Wonderful. I miss her. Sure, see you in an hour then." He snorted at your words. "Miss her? How can anyone miss that freak?" Leon spurred to himself whilst walking out of the room.

He just doesn't get it.

-

An hour later, just as Levi said. You stepped down the creaky staircase and saw Levi pulling chairs off of the now cleansed tables. They were all stacked onto the tables when the floors had to be swept and mopped. Your hand dragged off of the railing as you slowly ambled over towards him. Levi looked over to you. He lost his breath for a second but you were unclear as to why. Maybe he's catching a cold.

He cleared his throat and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Can you start up the tea?" "Yeah, of course." You smiled. Your eyes went to right beside you were the doorway to the kitchen was. "How many cups?" "Seven please." "Alright." You entered the kitchen to begin the tea.

Before you came down to Levi, you changed. Maybe that was what caught his attention. You're still wearing your gear but you took your jacket off and put on a tighter shirt. The other one got stained and you felt unprofessional wearing it. You hate wearing this gear all day but it's prohibited not to. Wearing casual clothes feels even weirder though and rarely do you do so.

You poured the heated water into each mug and set the Jasmine tea into each one afterwards. The tea smelled amazing and you can't wait to sip on it. While it heats up and marinates, you'll help Levi out with whatever else he needs.

You exited the kitchen area and pulled the final chair off of the table. "We really cleaned this place up, huh?" "It was really only me, you and Gunther. I guess Petra too, she did good outside." "Nice to hear. She's a hard worker, don't you think?" "I suppose." Levi raised an eyebrow. "You know I am surprised Petra even speaks to you?" What does he mean by that. "Wait, what? How come?" Fear was evident in your tone. Does she secretly hate you???

"Nothing major. I just remember when you first joined she told me she was scared of you. She said it again more recently after you screamed at Eld for eating the final biscuit." Levi snorted. "Scared? Of me? But why?" You were dazed by this. You've always been so sweet to her. You are just a girl, not a threat. Especially not to any of the Levi squad, even Oulo as much as he engages you. "It isn't far of a stretch. You come off as mean sometimes." "I do?" Now you're even more puzzled.

This is a new revelation. You've tried your best to be a sweet girl. You hate coming off as bitchy. "It's nothing personal. You're just strong and very will powered. That kind of head strong attitude will intimidate someone, take it from me." Levi leaned against the wooden beam supporting the floor above you. "You don't think I'm mean?" "I've never felt that way-no. You've always came off as generous and kind, a bit more than you should be in this line of work." What a back handed compliment that was.

"I'm mean to Oulo... Maybe I should tone it down." "Don't. The runt deserves it." Levi shook his head. "You're right." You tittered, crossing your arms. The silence between the two of you was somehow loud and deafening at the same time. The eye contact between you two was different too. It felt like if you pulled your eyes away, he'd disappear. Did he feel the same? Your stomach twisted and you felt your face heating up. Levi does weird things to you.

You remembered the tea.

"I should go see if the tea is ready." "Yep." Levi cleared his throat. "I'll go get the others then. Thanks for uhm, helping." Levi nodded. "Anytime." You gave him a quick smile before heading back into the kitchen.

Why was that encounter son awkward yet so adrenaline inducing? Your heart is beating at a rapid rate. Him calling you kind and generous wasn't just it. It was also how he looked at you. He doesn't gaze at Petra like that. Hell, he's gotten on her for looking at him for to long yet he maintains eye contact with you? Maybe he's just having a better day. You don't know but Levi has always seemed to be different with you. That, you've noticed.

Each cup of tea was warm and ready. You took a quick sip and melted in it. It tasted good and was the perfect temp. Only picking up two mugs at a time, you had to take a few trips back and forth to even get them placed at the dining table. Once they all were though, everyone showed up and took their places. Eren seemed happy to finally have a moment of relaxation. Boy will he learn quick...

You sat down by Levi. He was at the end head of the table and you were to his left. He took a swig and nodded before whispering to you. "Lovely. Thank you." Two for two today! Meeting his expectations in cleaning and tea. This is a home run.

-

After a bit of talking, you heard Hange on the other side of the main door. "Ow!" She shouted with a cackle. "Hange." You whispered to yourself and smiled. Levi just slurped some of his tea. Petra was quick to let her in. "I'm sorry. Good evening team Levi!" She said happily whilst waving. "Hange, hey." You whispered. She smirked at you. You two are very close. She's your day one.

"How is castle life treating everyone?" Her words are adorable. "You're too early." Levi said in a dreadful voice. "Am I? Suppose I couldn't help myself." Hange replied while she stepped over to the one and only-Eren. "Section Commander Hange?" Eren stuttered out and looked over at her. Your eyes wandered to Levi and he was looking at you. You gave him a slight grin but he just went back to looking at Hange and Eren. Weird.

"Hello Eren. In the event you haven't pieced it together yet it's my job to lead the scout regiments research efforts." Here we go...

Everyone at the table remained quiet as Hange and Eren conversed. This is going to be so fucking long. You just laughed to yourself. Once Eren asked that forbidden question, you couldn't help but giggle. "Have a nice night Eren and Hange." You waved goodbye as the entire Levi squad left the room. There was no way you'd be sitting through that "lovely" conversation again as you had to when you first joined her squad those two years ago.

-

You are glad Hange showed up and it gave you all an excuse to leave and do your own thing. You are exhausted. All that riding and cleaning, it wears you out. Petra and Eld decided to sleep in the upstairs chambers (Separate rooms, of course) Gunther and Oulo took the East side chambers and you & Levi took the lowest floor. Each floor and section had one to three rooms, that's why everyone was spread out.

"Goodnight Petra, get your beauty sleep." You chortled. "You too!" She then closed her door. You walked her to her room because funnily enough, she hates dark hallways and Eld is too much of a ditz to help her. You began to make your way back down to the lowest floor. It wasn't the actual lowest but it was the lowest with sleeping quarters in it. There are two floors below it.

You pushed open the door and saw Levi leaving his room. "Hey Levi." You didn't even really mean to say that. It just sort of came out. "Hey." He stopped, holding a glass of tea. "Sorry if my tea wasn't as good." You chuckled, referencing his new glass. "It was. Don't worry. I'm just an addict." He joked. You smiled and nodded. "So I've noticed." You've never seen Levi out of uniform and in resting clothes. He looks great. Very handsome.

He's just wearing a long sleeve white shirt with black pants. You are wearing a beige sweater with pants. It gets cold here at night.

"Any plans for tomorrow? For us?" "I'm playing it by ear." "Gotcha." You kept your arms crossed. "You always ask me that." "What?" " "Any plans for tomorrow?" I've noticed you ask me that often." "Is it an issue?" "No. I like it. It shows me you care about your work." "I really do." "I know." Levi hummed in response. It's good to know he acknowledges your hard efforts. "You're different than the other members. You're always on your A game." "Thank you Captain." You blushed.

Levi scoffed to himself before letting out a low chuckle. "Excuse me but this is bothering me." He ambled to you and reached his hand behind your neck, tugging the tag of your sweater in. You snickered and thanked him. "I would've never noticed." His fingers grazed against your neck slowly as he dropped his arm to his side. "Yeah." He said softly, looking into your eyes.

As you gazed back into his brown orbs, you bit your lip. It was unintentional. Levi just makes you go crazy. Admittedly, you are crazy about him. You two have hit it off rather well. He's different with you despite it not being very professional.

"I hope you rest well." He spoke. "You too Levi." "Night. "Goodnight." You replied and he then walked back into his room and you did the same.

[poisonsage808]

to miss is to

nsfw, 18+, mdni below the cut

intent is everything.

he came over to surprise you for the sake of spontaneity, overproduced palpitations of the heart and a strong sense of yearning. that is to say that he missed you.

to his indifferent yet mild disappointment, your roommate opened the door and called your name loudly over her shoulder. once upon a time he would’ve been tempted by her, fallen victim to a pattern that killed many a potential match. munch’s eyes drop momentarily to her ass as she walks away from the open door. well he wasn’t a changed man yet, no one could pull a 180 overnight— or even in a year for that matter. wanting to change is one thing, needing to another, and doing it is something else entirely. he wasn’t going to play the fool just to trick everyone, namely himself, that he was.

you slip around the corner and gasp at his presence, the desired reaction sending a toothy smile to cut across his face. elated with his surprise, you crashed into his arms and sent john stumbling back a bit, he had to hold the flowers high so they wouldn’t get crushed.

“what are you doing here, i thought i wouldn’t get to see you this week!”

“do i need an excuse to see my favorite girl?”

his intention was to spend a few lazy hours with you, give his restless mind a break, listen to you vent about your week and talk about his, snack on the unhealthy hoard you kept hidden in your room, hold you close and kiss you senseless a couple times just because. every night over the phone he told you that he wanted nothing more than lay behind you, press affectionate kisses to your head and try to remember what kind of shampoo you used. so that’s exactly what he did.

if his hand wandered to your waist to keep you still during the movie, if they reveled in the wake of goosebumps and traveled along your warm skin, it was merely to continue innocently touching you. he liked to keep a hand on you at all times if possible, and it rarely wasn’t.

“this movie’s boring,” you whispered over your shoulder at him.

john kissed your neck, “that’s ’cause it’s not a movie, sweetheart, it’s a documentary and it’s far from boring.”

you giggled at his innocent pecks, squirming against him again and threatening his sanity. he pinned your back to his front as if it would help.

“don’t care. i’m revoking your movie choice privileges.”

“do that, and i’ll never let you use my coffee press again.”

you gasp in mockery, “you monster.”

grinning, he huffs against your neck making you shrug and shake your head like he’s a bug that’s irritating you. only the fits of giggles that leave you tell him otherwise.

“stop!” you hiss quietly through a smile, “we’re gonna wake up lyra.”

“one, remind me again why that would bother me? she already doesn’t like me, and i’m not particularly fond of her juvenile, sarcastic self either.” john presses an open mouthed kiss to sensitive skin, taking advantage of the way you arch your back by grinding against you subtly, “two,” another, “i don’t know what this we stuff is, you’re the one being loud, and three—“

you gasp when his teeth sink in and his hand slips between your legs, past your underwear and right into your needy cunt.

“—you need to stop moving.” he warns.

but his fingers persist, eliciting louder sound from your pretty lips that he catches with his spare hand. completely trapped against him, he sits up on his elbow and nudges your knees apart with his to get a better angle, plunging two fingers knuckle deep into you. you grab his wrist tightly and for a moment he thinks you’ll pull it away but you whimper against his palm, trying to muffle the noise.

“i wish i could hear you. i love the noises you make for me.” kissing your hair, your cheek, your forehead, john whines into your ear and places a kiss there too, “feel good, baby?”

you nod enthusiastically.

you’re embarrassingly wet, something that fuels him with pride. he can feel you getting closer, he committed the signs to memory since the very first time he brought you to climax. the flutter of your eyes as they shut, the curve of your back as you arch off his chest and lift your hips to meet his fingers, circling in small circles on your clit. it replayed in his mind long after, it follows him to bed some nights, he longs to see it even after he just did, pupils wide with lust as you get your heartbeat under control. he’s dying to see it now.

“beautiful,” he breathes, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful— god, i missed you— you gonna cum, gorgeous?”

your head dropped on his bicep, nodding again.

it wasn’t enough.

he pulls his hand off your mouth, perfectly timed with a particular stroke that makes you gasp.

“john—!”

your hushed plea is a symphony to his ears. he shushes you gently, teasing your clit to keep you right at the edge. whimpering, you cover your own mouth as you seek the friction you need to push you over.

“keep quiet for me, beautiful. you’re doing so good. wanna feel you.”

he shirks his pants down just enough, barely manages to choke back a moan as he sinks into your cunt. pathetic didn’t scratch the surface on how desperate he was. he liked to tease and taste and take his time with you, not have a frenetic romp on the couch like a teenager.

“see what you do to me?” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist to push you deeper on his cock, “can’t control myself around you.”

you whined at his painfully slow pace, his fingers still gliding around your clit.

“jo— ohmygod— john, please.”

“gonna be quiet?”

“yes, yes, yes.”

a smirk pulled at his lips, his eyes affectionately calling you a liar because he would be a hypocrite if he said so aloud. he was struggling to do the same when your velvety walls closed around his cock as you drew nearer to the edge. he kissed your shoulder, partly a soft apology for torturing you, partly to muffle a moan, and wordlessly gave you what you needed. his middle finger drew a myriad of patterns he knew would push you over the top.

knowing exactly when to cover your mouth again, he stopped a cry of ecstasy from being loud enough to wake your roommate. you arched you back the way he dreamed about and he could practically see you making that gorgeous face you did as you saw stars behind your eyes. the feeling of your cunt spasming and clenching around him nearly sent him over the edge. he drove himself deep but not as fast as he wanted, still conscious of the lewd noises the two of you were already making.

“fuck, i missed this, missed how good you feel,” he grunts low, desperately, too close to begging for something, but he didn’t know what. everything he could ever want was right here. “missed you, baby, need you so bad."

you whine incoherently into his palm, clawing at him someway that returns the sentiment. he pants against your skin, delighted in the little shivers of pleasure that take over your body. you arch into him, inviting him impossibly deeper to hit all the right spots that squeeze him so fucking good his breath catches in his throat. you’re dizzying. he muffles a whine against your shoulder as his hips stutter and fall out of rhythm. shamelessly, he empties himself into you like it's a depraved claim, an attest to his words.

a shaking sigh of relief passes your lips as his heart pounds against your back. somehow, you twist and crane your neck while reaching back to pull his hair and capture his lips. the movement makes him gasp into your mouth, he grabs your waist firmly to keep you still again.

"sweetheart," he scolds, begs, lightly against your lips before conceding and melting into the kiss.

"i missed you too." you said softly.

with no intention to watch the tv, you turn back to it with a dreamy smile and nuzzle back into john. his chin falls on your head and his arms wrap around your stomach, enveloping you affectionately.

"you know she heard us," he teased suddenly.

you swat his arm.

[quanruionechancepls]

Happiness is a Butterfly - Chapter 2: Blood is Rare (and Sweet as Cherry Wine)

Salesman x Reader

Content Warning: Substance Abuse, Child Abuse, Bullying, Dubious Consent, NSFW (This chapter is very graphic overall)

For more information, check Masterlist

---------------

Gongyoo was a strange man.

He expected you to cook for him, yet everything you made, he made better. Did he place that responsibility on you solely because you were a woman? In fact, it seemed he didn’t need you at all, as you would sometimes wake up to him ironing and folding his clothes, and other times, mopping the floors. He was fully self-sufficient.

The only area you had him beat was baking, but you weren’t going to pour your heart out into pastries for a man like him. Everytime you baked, you purposely switched out the sugar with salt, as it would be indistinguishable until someone took a bite out of it. You always prepped the night before, placing a fresh dollop of buttercream frosting on the salty cupcake the next morning, packing it neatly into his lunchbox.

For the first month, you assumed nothing was wrong. He always came home with the cupcake gone, either thrown away or eaten. You didn’t bother asking. He never thanked you for your labour, but he never complained about the food either.

Until one night, he stood guard in the kitchen, his eyes glued to you as your baking ingredients were spread across the kitchen island. “What are you doing?” You asked as you measured the flour.

“Do you not know how to read labels?” The rude question aside, his tone was dripping with accusation.

“What?” You shot him a glare.

“Do you know how much salt I had to buy this month?” When you stayed silent, he scoffed. “You think I don’t know what you’re plotting? Bake properly, or don’t do it at all. No one wants to eat those disgusting salty cupcakes.”

You expected him to walk away, but he kept his mouth shut as he watched you measure and mix the ingredients together. The entire time, the quiet rage emanating from his body enveloped the entire apartment, and while you wanted to open a window to clear out the stuffiness, you also didn’t want to walk past him. He blocked you from leaving, so the only thing you could do was silently admit defeat and pour in the correct amount of sugar.

Gongyoo finally left when you popped the cupcakes into the oven after carefully inspecting your every move for nearly an hour, and you breathed a sigh of relief when he shut the door to his room. Perhaps it was a bad idea to rebel against him— just because he treated you kindly now doesn’t mean he’ll maintain this persona when you do something that he deems to be too far. The last thing you want is to be beaten black and blue because you caused him to snap.

And just like that, your feeble attempt to exert some power over him was destroyed with a mere warning— one you ought to take seriously.

With all your fight quelled, you quickly fell in line with the kind of wife he wanted. You woke up at 10am, and you spent your time around the house either cleaning, doing laundry, or cooking. At first, he was quite territorial about his room, but he eventually allowed you to enter on the condition that you don’t touch anything. It was a vague request, and you weren’t sure if you were allowed to clean it.

You also noticed how methodical of a man he was. When you looked in his closet, you were surprised to find dozens of the same suit, all perfectly ironed and ready to wear. His idea of a casual outfit was ditching the blazer and tie. In addition, you found more folded papers intended for ddakji, and when you took a closer look, they were folded so neatly you could’ve mistaken it as the work of a robot. There were no wrinkles or crinkles that showed a need for correction, only four sharp edges and the paper neatly tucked inside itself to give it an appearance similar to an envelope.

How did such a perfectionist put up with your salty cupcakes for so long? You were really lucky he didn’t grab you by your hair and throw you against the wall, rolling up his sleeves in preparation to beat you until you were bruised and swollen.

Despite Gongyoo being gone for most of the day, you didn’t allow yourself to relax until both of you had eaten dinner because you knew that only then, he wouldn’t demand anything of you. Your favourite part of the arrangement was your separate bedrooms and bathrooms. This was wishful thinking for sure, but when you snuggled under your covers, it almost seemed as if no one in the world could touch you, not even him.

As you made yourself more comfortable in the penthouse, which came a lot easier after you decorated everything to your taste, you noticed even more singularities about Gongyoo. At least twice a week, he wouldn’t come home at all. At first, he made sure to be back by 7pm sharp, but eventually, he pushed the time back further and further until it resulted in a text message informing you to not make dinner for him. It always occurred on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

The cheating didn’t bother you, as you didn’t desire him in the first place. His money and his handsome face wasn’t enough to make up for the way your skin crawled every time he entered the room, especially if he stared at you for too long. No amount of acting could conceal how empty of a man he truly was, his life relying on routines and strict structures without room for indulgence. Even if he cooked and cleaned better than you, there was no emotion behind his actions, only duty.

In fact, you preferred the nights he was away, because the nights he stayed home were more frightening. The first time you heard it, you stayed up later than usual after binging a Kdrama in the darkness of your room underneath your covers. You were in the middle of a heartwarming scene between the two main characters when a blood curdling scream reverberated through the walls of the entire apartment. The usual huskiness of his voice was drowned out by an unsettling shrill, akin to nails on a chalkboard.

It nearly sent your heart flying out of your chest with how fast and hard it pounded, calming yourself with deep breaths as his screams continued for a few more minutes— you couldn’t be sure of the exact time. By the time he fell silent, you felt like you were more of a mess than he was, your entire body breaking out in a cold sweat, trembling in your bed as your throat dried up.

What troubled you the most was how ordinary he acted the next morning, as if he hadn’t destroyed his vocal cords with all his screaming as well as your eardrums. His hair would be slicked back and his suit was buttoned up as he silently munched on whatever you decided you wanted to eat for breakfast. Curiously, he never requested a certain type of meal either, he just let you choose what you wanted to make and went along with it.

At first, you heard it once a week. Then twice. Then it was every night he spent at home.

You weren’t always awake when it happened, and sometimes you’d wake up with a start, your body entering fight or flight as if you were in a horror movie, only to realize you were in the safety of your room. You debated staying up later so you could fall asleep after he got all the screaming out of his system, but you quickly realized it was futile because it happened randomly. Sometimes, it was 1am, and other times, it could be 6am.

While Gongyoo’s screams sucked the life out of you, your skin dull and dry with prominent bags under your eyes, he remained as radiant as ever. It was frustrating to find his natural skin glowing in the sun, the light hitting him from all the right angles, as you struggled to keep yourself afloat with your lack of sleep.

One night, when his screams weren’t letting up, you gritted your teeth and gathered all your remaining courage, uncovering your ears and lifting your blanket off you as you walked towards his room. The door to his room creaked, and he momentarily quieted down to a hum, but the calm didn’t last as his eyebrows scrunched, his hands gripping the sheets as he opened his mouth to shriek again.

You stood by the doorframe, trembling, wondering how you could possibly awaken him without getting hurt. Not only was he much larger than you, he also frequently went to the gym, always patching up his calloused hands when a new blister formed. A random swing in your direction could cause significant damage, intentional or not.

Still, you couldn’t leave him like this. It was mainly for your own sake, as you were losing your mind without sleep, but you didn’t need to be a psychologist to know that he was deeply tormented by something. It was mentally damaging enough to be haunting him every night in his dreams, an open secret you tried to wish away, but could no longer run away from.

You tiptoed towards the bed, your touch as light as a feather as you brushed your fingertip against the back of his hand, which was white from how hard he gripped the sheets. Gulping, you slowly peeled his fingers off, only to instantly regret it as he grabbed ahold of your hand and squeezed hard. Biting your inner cheek to stop yourself from screaming and startling him awake, you directed your focus to his upper body, sighing as his grip loosened slightly.

Brushing his bangs aside, you placed your hand on his forehead, surprised at how moist it was to the touch. “Gongyoo, hurry up and wake up,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. You pressed your finger in between his scrunched eyebrows, smoothing them out. “I don’t know what you’re dreaming about, but you’re safe. You’re at home, in your bed. There’s no one who can hurt you, in fact, you’re probably the one who can hurt me.”

You continued speaking to him softly, alternating between affirmations and shushes when he clenched his jaw in his sleep, grinding his teeth. After what felt like ages he finally opened his eyes, gasping for air as his vision struggled to adapt to the darkness. “You’re finally awake,” was the first thing that came out of your mouth.

“Fuck, I feel like shit,” he groaned, forcing himself to sit upright, pushing his damp hair back with his hand. It was the first time you heard such foul language leave his mouth, especially since he tried so hard to appear prim and proper.

“I think you should talk to someone about this. Your nightmares are keeping me awake too,” you suggested, and he glared at you.

“Mind your business.”

You huffed. “Well, I’ll continue waking you up then. I think I’ve endured them for long enough,” you replied, slipping your hand out of his grasp and walking out the door, shutting it behind you. ‘Suit yourself.’

-

Gongyoo didn’t expect you to stay true to that promise, but you did. Every night, when he inevitably drifted off when he couldn’t resist the sweet allure of sleep any longer, he’d be haunted by the same nightmare. He got them more often as he grew older. It was like clockwork— he’d wake up at 8am sharp in the morning on weekdays, waiting for you to cook his breakfast before he packed his lunch and spent the day monitoring previous winners. At night, he’d shower, brush his teeth, and stare at the ceiling for as long as humanly possible until he physically couldn’t open his eyes anymore.

He wished he could keep himself on autopilot with ecstasy, but he was forced to quit when the Host found out about his addiction. He recalled how horrible the first two weeks of his withdrawal symptoms were. At home, he could barely keep any food down, essentially living in his washroom as he kneeled in front of his toilet, his stomach churning as he gagged and choked on the bile creeping up his throat. He had to take an entire week off work because he physically couldn’t function— he didn’t eat, sleep, or even have the energy to walk around his apartment, yet he suddenly gained an abnormally strong craving for sweets, binging enough candy to cause 3 cavities if he wasn’t hygienic enough.

Everything was for the sake of avoiding those nightmares.

Truthfully, he didn’t want you to help him. You were the stunning bird he locked up in his cage, free for him to show off, use, and get rid of as he pleased. The Host told him to be your husband, she never explicitly said he couldn’t kill you. You were no better than the vermin he spent all day and night playing games with every year when the Squid Games rolled around, you just happened to be the one chosen to be a pet.

His little birdie.

And pets shouldn’t stick their nose in the business of their masters.

But nothing kept you away. No amount of glaring, passive aggressive insults, or even throwing his ddakji in your face deterred you from entering his room every night, holding his hand and slowly stirring him awake with your soft spoken voice. He always woke up feeling like he ran a marathon and just came out of a coma at the same time, his limbs weak and heavy, his body sticky with sweat. You never stayed once he was fully awake, undoing your interlocked fingers and yawning as you walked out of his room, shutting the door behind you.

Eventually, he just accepted it. He allowed you to wake him before he naturally jolted awake, gasping for air, covered in sweat from head to toe, his eyes moving erratically as if he was still on drugs. You were too stubborn for any sort of antics to change your mind, and he was too tired to continue resisting your kind gesture.

Sometimes he’d doze off again, other times he pushed himself out of bed and into the shower, washing off all the grime on his body left by the nightmare. He avoided his own reflection as much as he could, his eyes remaining on the marble wall or the tiles on the floor. He’d grown up with women fawning over his handsome face, but he couldn’t see what they saw. He didn’t see himself when he looked in the mirror, he saw his dad. If he grew out his stubble and stopped styling his hair, the resemblance would be so uncanny it’d send a shiver down his spine.

The most difficult part of his day was when nightfall came, the ghosts of his past trailing him as if he didn’t work his ass off to leave it all behind. Gongyoo felt the most at ease when the sun peeked through the clouds at dawn, signaling a start of a new day, giving him another chance to reinvent himself— to be anyone but himself.

Ever since you entered his life, mornings gave him a chance for normalcy. He’d open his eyes to the ceiling staring back at him, the scent of your cooking wafting through the entire apartment. None of your meals were anything special, but he imagined they were what a true homecooked meal tasted like, not his methodical step-by-step cooking that followed recipes to absolute perfection. Baking aside, he never saw you pick up a measuring tool, choosing to eyeball everything you made.

You, as a person, intrigued him. Why did you never ask him what his nightmares were about? Why haven’t you already started begging for him to love you? Other than the Host herself, who already had every detail of his life on file, you were the only woman who never pried. The women he previously had relations with were all so quick to throw away their dignity and beg him for the world. You were in a different position than those women, but you were still a woman nonetheless, and he assumed you would behave like his previous partners.

And just like that, a year flew by. He never asked you any questions about yourself— not that he needed to— and you never spoke to him more than necessary.

Other than his nightly terrors, his life was peaceful. Your methods of waking him up continued to improve, and his nightmares became shorter and shorter as you adjusted, although the nightmares themselves never got easier.

Every night, his life flashed before his eyes, from the very beginning to the present day. It was akin to an out-of-body experience, the film replaying over and over again but he could never step in and change the prophecy. It forced him to watch the most terrifying moments of his life while knowing all he wanted was to close his eyes and forget.

-

Gongyoo’s earliest memory was his younger self, barely the age of 4, reaching for the fridge on uncoordinated limbs. His dad drowned his sorrows in the form of fermented barley, the type of melancholy that seeped into every corner of their home, one that Gongyoo’s childhood innocence had no idea of. There were times his dad sobered up enough to cook up a meal for him, or even buy something at the convenience store if he was lucky, but most days, Gongyoo was left to his own devices. So, he learned to push a stool in front of the fridge, using his hands to grab anything deemed as edible. Even raw onion and garlic didn’t taste bad if he was hungry enough.

His mom? Well, he didn’t have a clue. He learned the hard way to never mention her in front of his dad after he was rushed to the hospital after a beating that resulted in a broken arm. His dad sobbed and begged him for forgiveness, but he never changed, and his curiosity stayed even as he sewed his lips shut. Was she dead? Or did she leave him and his dad behind for another man?

School was fun up until middle school. It was the only place he’d be guaranteed a meal, so he always made an effort to attend, even if he had to walk there on his own. There were days he couldn’t show up no matter how much he wanted to. The beatings that left his entire face swollen and purple happened three times a year, although he didn’t know the significance of those days except one: Mother’s Day.

Middle school changed everything. Grades started to matter, and he was the target of bullying because his dad barely made ends meet, so he was always behind in clothing trends and had no access to the shiniest new toy. He studied as hard as he could, but everyday on his way to school, a few kids would pull him into the alleyway and steal his homework. It was always at least a group of three, two holding him back while one dumped everything out of his backpack. They’d throw a few punches at him until he was too winded to fight back and run away with his papers.

When his grades slipped because his assignments were stolen, his dad expressed his disappointment in the only way he knew how: whipping him with his belt until his skin blistered. At first, he tried reporting the bullying to his teachers, but when it worsened and he realized no one would help, something snapped within him.

Gongyoo stopped attending school. His way of learning was borrowing books from the library, but it became less and less frequent as he fell down the wrong path.

He first realized his fighting potential when he single-handedly knocked out his bullies when they tried harassing him even as he stopped attending school— like father, like son. It escalated into him picking fights with anyone who irritated him until finally, a group of delinquents confronted him and demanded for him to join.

Pain and cigarettes became his life. After being beaten around his whole life, he didn’t let people think they could swing at him and get away with it anymore, quickly countering with his bandaged fist, the skin on his knuckles always raw and sore. The stench of blood and smoke was stained on his skin and clothes, the metallic iron pooling on his fists and inside his mouth. He’d swallow his own blood with a twisted smile, imagining it was sweet liquor running down his throat.

His blood tasted sweet.

At his speed of crashing and burning through life, Gongyoo genuinely believed he wouldn’t make it past age 28, but everything changed the day he turned 18. As he smoked in an alleyway, a man in a fancy suit approached him. Inhaling a puff of his cigarette, he held it in his mouth and blew it in his face, expecting the usual reaction of coughing or flinching, but the man remained still, giving him a polite smile. He was handed the same beige business card he gave out to people in the present day, a circle, triangle, and square on the front and a phone number on the back.

“This is a chance for you to turn your life around,” the man said to him.

If he wasn’t desperately trying to save enough money to move out of his dad’s apartment, he would’ve regarded it as trash, but something possessed him to run to the nearest telephone booth and call the number. The next day, a truck parked outside of his door, and a person in a pink jumpsuit approached him, telling him to go inside.

So he did.

He allowed them to take him to the middle of nowhere, huddled in a cramped space with dozens of other people. Some were equally as confused as him, and others sat calmly as they waited for the truck to slow to a halt.

They were escorted out of the truck and brought into a mysterious dormitory, each given a pink jumpsuit, a ski mask, and a black mask with a large circle where the face was supposed to be. He was trained to do menial tasks his dad never bothered teaching him, such as cooking, cleaning, and laundry. ‘This is strange,’ is what he thought at the time, not understanding why he needed his identity to remain anonymous for such everyday tasks.

When he first saw players being slaughtered without remorse, it was a bit of a shock to the system, but when a more experienced guard informed him of their paycheck, he quickly bit his tongue and turned his head the other way. After growing up with the scent of iron always lingering nearby, it didn’t repulse him anymore, rather, he found it comforting. The cleaning was relatively easy, with the tractors rolling away the bodies as he carried the coffin with another worker. At the time, there were only 200 participants in the games, so there wasn’t much to clean up as well.

He bawled when the money hit his bank account, having never seen such a huge sum in his life. He didn’t earn the money by beating up unsuspecting teenagers and stealing whatever they had in their wallets— no, he earned it without having to get hurt. It allowed him to immediately move out, and although he had to be frugal and rent a shabbier apartment, it was the first time he tasted freedom.

Other than a brief pause due to his military enlistment, Gongyoo returned to the games every year, becoming a soldier at the age of 22. His military training was fresh in his mind as he handled the rifle with expertise, pulling the trigger and enduring the recoil on his shoulder, shooting his victims directly on the forehead as his triangle mask concealed his sadistic grin. It was the first time he had a taste of power, and the way his brain lit up with dopamine everytime he exerted it was addicting. Even better, being a soldier paid better than a worker.

Two years later, he was on the same island, a rifle in his hand when a manager ordered him to eliminate Player 056 from his earpiece. He approached the player, his arms heavy and sore from carrying the gun all day, when Player 056 turned around, and he was faced with a familiar face.

It was his dad.

He recalled hesitating, watching as his dad collapsed to his knees, tears springing in his eyes as he begged to be spared. “Please, I need this money for my son! I need to clear my debts for him!”

At the time, it sounded like bullshit. When did his dad ever give him money? He had to beat his way into scraping enough together for a few packets of ramen at the convenience store, otherwise he’d starve.

So, he stepped closer, his body stiff as his dad crumpled further, the fear evident in his eyes. Gongyoo tapped the muzzle of his rifle against his dad’s forehead, his finger pressing down on the trigger, watching as blood and brain sprayed out of his dad’s head as his body collapsed. Taking a deep breath, he peeled his eyes away from the crimson flowing out of his dad’s head and walked back to his station.

In the privacy of his room, barely larger than a capsule hotel, hot tears poured down his cheeks as he gasped for breath in between sniffles. It was uncontrollable— everytime he tried to convince himself to stop, it seemed his body rebelled harder against him.

Gongyoo stared at his younger self who was wracked with guilt, knowing exactly why he couldn’t stop crying. If he dug deep enough, he found happy memories with his dad as well. The annual birthday cakes, swinging at the park together, taking him to the amusement park and laughing when he threw up after a roller coaster ride. In darkness, there were always cracks of light.

After that day, he couldn’t stand to fall asleep, the moment of his dad’s death replaying again and again. At times, he wondered if his dad cursed him in the afterlife once he found out the person who killed him was his own son.

Around the same time, one of his delinquent friends, who was now in a gang, introduced him to ecstasy. Ecstasy, molly, MDMA— whatever you want to call it, it didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that it kept him awake, and bringing him to a new level of euphoria was only a side effect. With the help of the drug, the only way he fell asleep was by passing out after days of pumping the substance into his veins through his consumption of pills. It didn’t take long for him to develop an unhealthy obsession with it, frequenting clubs and buying them in bulk. He didn’t need the measly effects of cigarettes when ecstasy offered something much stronger.

His life alternated between drugs and the Squid Games, partying, fucking, and killing his way through life. Was this what that man meant when he told him he could turn his life around? Ironically, he only felt more like a bum, despite having the money to live in a comfortable apartment and plenty of disposable income to spend on drugs and women as he pleased.

At 27, shortly after being promoted to the position of manager, Gongyoo began begging the Host— Oh Ilnam, at the time— for more work. He was willing to do anything he wanted, nothing was off the table.

His first job was being a waiter for the VIPs for an afterparty to celebrate the games, the mask tight on his face, making it difficult for him to breathe. He ran around the room for hours, constantly refilling empty cups, making sure the music was played to perfection, and generally being as accommodating as he could. Towards the end of the party, the waiters were given a 30 minute break with a drink on the house, an offer that Gongyoo took up gratefully as he gulped it down all at once.

His drink had been spiked.

There was no way for him to find out who did it, but the effect was instantaneous, his body burning with heat as his legs wobbled and shook. It was an aphrodisiac. Even behind the masks, Gongyoo could feel the predatory gaze of the VIPs. He could practically feel their eyes wandering his body as the drug overwhelmed his senses, and he forced himself to stand his feet and stumbled out of the room, accidentally knocking over a few glasses and flinching as they shattered on the floor.

Bursting into the nearest men’s washroom, he nearly collapsed as he fumbled to close the door to his stall, his hands shaking uncontrollably. His entire body was covered with a sheen of sweat, and he winced every time the fabric of his clothing rubbed against his skin, his sensitivity dialed up to 100. Unable to take it anymore, he clumsily unzipped the fly of his pants and pushed down his underwear, gasping as the cold air hit his cock and thrusting into nothing.

He was so wet, his cock dripping with precum before he’d even touched himself. Gulping, he struggled to comprehend how mindboggling it would feel if he began stroking himself, almost scared of the electrifying pleasure. At the same time, he couldn’t leave himself like this— he needed to return to work, and the amount of blood rushing to his cock made it so hard it was painful.

Biting his lip, he ran his finger on his cock, his body stiffening as it twitched violently. After a few more seconds, he decided he couldn’t procrastinate anymore, enveloping his entire cock in the heat of his hand, almost doubling over as he groaned. His entire body was convulsing, and he hadn’t even finished yet.

The door creaked, and Gongyoo froze as the sound of footsteps entered the room, someone turning the tap on as he heard the water running in the sink. Blushing at the idea of being caught, he began pumping his hand on his cock, biting the thick fabric of his sleeve in an attempt to muffle his noises. He sped up when the person left the bathroom, falling to his knees as his cum spurted directly onto the door of his stall.

Gasping, shaking, and shuddering, when his vision finally cleared, he was horrified to find that he was still erect, the heat pooling where he desperately needed relief. Gongyoo recalled the enormous knot of shame and humiliation that formed in his stomach, fighting back tears as his hand reached for his cock once again.

Ilnam was understandably pissed, as Gongyoo’s actions offended many VIPs and ruined the mood of the party, with some of them even pulling their investments. Gongyoo had to beg him to check the security cameras, averting his eyes as the footage of him desperately jerking off in the washroom appeared on screen, his face burning red.

“I see, it wasn’t your fault. Okay, I’ll let you go by simply firing you.”

“Please, sir, don’t fire me! I’ll do anything to make it up to you!”

He couldn’t allow Ilnam to let him go like this. Gongyoo didn’t know how to be an adult, he never even had a job outside of the Squid Games. After being swept up at 18, being part of the games was a key part of his identity.

Ilnam, a playful man and a lenient master, brought out two folded papers intended for ddakji, and told him to flip it a hundred times in a row. It took him hours to complete the task, his arm feeling like putty attached to the rest of the body once he was finally done. Frustratingly, he kept reaching the mid-90s, only to fail and having to restart again.

When he finally reached 100, Ilnam allowed him to become a recruiter— to work in the outside world.

Gongyoo had to completely reinvent himself to become a recruiter. It wasn’t a requirement from Ilnam, it was simply his own self-loathing that drove him to change. He had to become like the refined man that recruited him all those years ago, otherwise, he couldn’t represent the games.

It started with him doing a deep clean of his apartment, scrubbing every inch down to the corners of the walls, ridding it of all stains. He cut off all his friends who he deemed to be bad for his image, like gang members, although he kept the contact of his supplier. Then, it escalated to him getting rid of all his old clothes, replacing them with a dozen of the same suit, some in different colours. The sales associate looked at him as if he was crazy, but neatly wrapped them all for him as he walked home with the bags. Most importantly, he needed to perfect ddakji, practicing day and night until he could barely lift his arms, but it made him unbeatable.

He kept his drug addiction under wraps, having his supplier secretly ship it to his apartment instead of going to the club and picking it up himself.

Then, Ilnam became incapable of managing the games by himself, and he introduced Gongyoo to the woman who would succeed him— an illegitimate daughter who recently turned 21. Gongyoo was the first to be made aware of her existence and have the opportunity to see her face, a privilege few had because she guarded her identity fiercely. He personally introduced her to all the ins-and-outs of the games after all his years of experience.

Only a year later, a new position was made: the Frontman, filled by Player 132 from the 2015 Squid Games. After years of labour, Player 132 overtook his position overnight due to favouritism from Ilnam’s daughter. To make matters worse, the Frontman was unrefined, constantly causing messes that needed to be cleaned up, and often used the favouritism he received to his advantage. Gongyoo had completely cleaned up his image for a scum of a human to shatter his world in an instant.

The relationship between the Frontman and the new Host was an open secret, a necessary one to protect him against the hungry VIPs. With the Frontman glued to her hip 24/7, Gongyoo could only pray for the brief moments when the Frontman was away, allowing him to have a taste of her, running his hands through her hair and her soft skin.

Unlike the Frontman, Gongyoo never overstepped his boundaries. He never ordered the Host around, waiting for her to come to him of her own volition. She was the closest thing he knew to a goddess, being the daughter of the very man who changed his life for the better. It was ridiculous for mortals to order around gods and goddesses.

Then, in 2019, he overdosed. All the molly he’d secretly been taking caught up with him all at once, the euphoric high he desperately chased was long gone, and the drug only functioned to make him a working member of society. His tolerance was so high that he fell asleep even after taking the drug, and it drove him to take more and more and more until it bubbled over and left him unconscious in his room, barely breathing, when a manager discovered him.

When he opened his eyes again, he laid in a hospital bed, staring up at a grey ceiling as the Host sat by his bed, the Frontman standing beside her.

“Gongyoo, you need to quit. You seriously almost died. You can’t take them anymore.”

And that was that.

He quit, enduring all the pains of withdrawal.

And he succeeded, like he always did.

-

Gongyoo awoke. There were none of his usual dramatics, like gasping for air, his intense sweating, or trembling. He simply opened his eyes to find himself unable to comprehend visual information, as if a veil covered him.

“Are you awake?” It was a woman’s voice, but she sounded far away, as if she was speaking to him from across the apartment. It couldn’t be the case though, because he could clearly feel her soft touch in the palm of his hand. His eyes drifted in what he assumed to be her direction, but they remained unfocused, and he could only make out her figure, not her face. “You seem conscious to me.”

Before she fully pulled away, Gongyoo tightened his grip on her hand and tugged her closer to him, and after a brief moment of the sound of slippers shuffling, her body weight weighed down his chest. Using his sense of touch to guide him, he moved his hand up, stopping when he reached her scalp, running his hands through her hair as he buried his head somewhere on her body, possibly her neck, and inhaled deeply. She smelled of L’eau Papier by Diptyque.

Was she the Host? The Host always smelled like L’eau Papier right before bed, a clean, slightly sweet rice scent in a starchy way.

Flipping her over, Gongyoo pinned her down in his bed, his hand holding both her arms above her head. Though his vision wasn’t fully working, he could still vaguely make out the important parts of her body, from the valley of her breasts to her hips. “What are you doing?!” She yelled, squirming beneath him, but Gongyoo had her exactly where he wanted, and he tightened his grip a little more.

“Just comfort me…” he trailed off, his hand slipping underneath her shirt, pinching her nipple as he felt his way to her neck, kissing, licking, and nipping at the skin. Her body stiffened, tiny squeaks occasionally escaping her lips as she attempted to hold back her voice.

Gongyoo removed his hand from her nipple and moved downwards, his fingertips grazing against her soft skin as he fumbled with her pants, trying to slip his hand into her panties. He didn’t recall the Host ever dressing this conservatively in front of him, but he didn’t think much of it as he traced his finger around her clit, eliciting soft whines from her until he pressed down and heard her gasp, feeling her arching into him.

Pressing his lips against her jaw, he worked his way up until his lips found hers, continuing to rub circles on her clit to force her mouth open for him to explore. Gongyoo didn’t know what time it was, but she tasted oddly sweet for what he presumed to be the middle of the night. Did she eat a piece of candy right before he kissed her? He found himself subconsciously smiling into the kiss, picking up the pace as she ground her hips into his hand and came with a loud squeak.

Gongyoo waited for her to stop trembling to feel his way back to her pants, sliding everything off until her bottom half was completely bare. Releasing her arms, he held her thigh open as he traced the entrance of her pussy, soaking his hand in her slick as she quietly whined. Smirking, he inserted two fingers at once, causing her to jolt and let out a long moan as he pumped in and out of her, occasionally bending his fingers to brush against her g-spot, only to straighten them again when she tightened around him.

Once he felt he’d sufficiently loosened her up, he pushed down his boxers and lined his tip to her entrance, groaning as he pressed into her. Without giving her time to adjust, he slammed his hips against hers, moving at a steady pace, aiming at the spot he deliberately avoided earlier to tease her. She gasped and trembled beneath him, her hands firmly gripping the sheets, tightening every time he hit her g-spot. With one of his hands palming her breasts through her shirt and the other pressing on her clit, she came with a loud gasp— the kind that only happens when all the air leaves your lungs.

Turning her over on her knees, her ass facing him, he continued on his pursuit for his own climax, throwing his head back in pleasure when she clamped down on him every time he thrusted back into her. Was she always this tight? Perhaps she finally stopped letting the Frontman climb all over her at night.

He wanted to be rougher— to have her begging him for release as he spanked her, but he knew she’d kick him out of the room the moment he acted on those thoughts, so he simply grabbed her arm and held her steady as he thrusted into her, gritting his teeth and swallowing his desire. As her walls clenched onto his cock again, he rode out his orgasm with a last few hard thrusts, groaning her name until he went soft, slipping out of her as she whined from overstimulation.

Collapsing beside her, breathing heavily, he reached for her face, brushing her cheek and pressing a firm kiss to her forehead.

[fragmentedblade]

This seems to be a reference to Lorentz transformations? The first formula is apparently a derivation, and seems to be the inverse of the time part of the transformation (there's a space part too), for what I've been able to find.

The second formula is Newton's second law.

[crescendo-system]

Having a burst of new(?) alter reveals this past week which can only mean one thing: the deep pit of horror that maybe we're faking this is looming ominously once more