#I never saw myself as anyone's savior

[sanemi-whore]

Phantasm (Cruel World Final)

You retire from the Demon Slayer Corps and return back home to your father. You'll never forget those you met during your time as a slayer and often send letters to them. One evening you see Genya, stating that he needs you to take care of his brother. @roaringlion @kiki17483 @stuckinthewrongworld @neji85 @nyarffeu @muichirosloveee @plvuii @annie-napier @dependsontheday @crazycatlddy @idiatism @kxthxrinx0310 @summ3rd4yz @iviyna @neji85

Part 1 | Part 2 warning: cursing, everyone hates sanemi lol, heavy ansgt themes, multiple character death, body worship, oral (m/f), creampie, cowgirl, fingering, word count: 10.823

Public Enemy #1 was what Sanemi became. In the eyes of the Hashira - even Obanai who attempted to be neutral even gave him a look of disdain. Uzui often berated him, stating that he didn’t deserve a woman like you - and Sanemi knew as such. Shinobu made it her mission while treating him to make it as painful as possible - seeing as she could be gentle when she desired.

Hell, even Tomioka gave him deeper frowns than normal and that was saying a lot. You set your mark upon the Corps and now that you were going to be leaving soon, everyone despised him for it.

Did anyone know the true meaning? No. They didn’t dare ask Sanemi. They didn’t wish to ask you, either, not wishing to see the sadness grow deeper in your eyes. What they did know was that Sanemi and your relationship had grown sour, you were leaving the Corps and the only logical person to blame was the man in the situation.

Sanemi hisses when a sharp pain swipes at his neck. It’s Hiyori - again - claws digging deep into his neck while her beak bites against his ear. This is the fifth time in the last two days she has attacked him randomly, Sorai no longer wishing to help out of fear of her attack coming to him next.

“Fuck.” Sanemi swipes at the crow to defend himself from her attack. She squeaks, eyes glaring before she flocks away. He couldn’t be upset with Hiyori - she adored you just as much as  everyone did. Even Ginko - Muichiro’s sly crow - had come to your defense. Sanemi likes to believe that the crow just desires to berate anyone that isn’t Muichiro and joins in on the torment out of boredom. 

“Serves you right.”

Uzui.

Sanemi sighs. Great, another session of the man berating him because of you. 

“I don’t have time for you right now.” Sanemi continues his stroll back to his estate. He had tatami mats to slice up to get his mind off of you.

“What’d you do to Y/N?”

Sanemi continues to walk.

“So unflashy.”

“Your lack of hand is unflashy.” Sanemi retorts.

Uzui cackles. “Yet I can keep all three of my wives. I cannot say the same for you, Shinazugawa.” Tengen trails behind the younger man who’s shoulders tense at the remark. “I’m serious now. What did you do to her?”

Sanemi stops in his tracks. He doesn’t turn to face Uzui. Even with one eye, the man knew how to see right through him.

“Did she leave yet?” 

You haven’t spoken to Sanemi in a week. His heart hurts and longs to see you, just to see that you’re alright. But he cannot be selfish enough to hold you back from what you want.

“No. She will in another week.” Sanemi exhales at the response. “You make her cry. I can never forgive you for that, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi recalls your wet eyes as you were leaving his estate. His throat tightens.

“Y/N saw you as a savior of the sort. She spoke so highly of you - even now. I rarely see her smile and there's always a sadness behind her eyes. It outweighs Tomioka’s.”

Sanemi swallows the lump in his throat. He continues walking and this angers Uzui. “I’m talking to you!” the retired Hashira roars. “What the hell happened-”

“I took advantage of her!” Sanemi roars back, turning to face the taller man. “I took advantage of her and I can’t forgive myself.”

Uzui stops in his tracks, fuschia eyes examine Sanemi’s face. “Are you admitting to…assaulting her?” Uzui is unsure where this conversation was heading. He doesn’t want to believe that Sanemi would intentionally cause you any harm.

“Ye-”

Sanemi falls onto his back and there's a sting in his face. Even retired with one hand and eye, Uzui was just as fast and strong as ever. Sanemi holds his nose and glares at the man, liquid leaking into his palm.

Tengen steps back and admires the sight. “You have changed.” he murmurs more to himself than to Sanemi. “You’re hurting just as much as Y/N. You’re better at hiding it.” Uzui kneels down to reach eye level to Sanemi. “The Shinazugawa I know would’ve never let anyone hit him and get away with it.”

The teasing was back. Uzui was willing to hear what Sanemi had to say. “What really happened?”

Sanemi rips a piece of his haori and plugs his nose. He does speak. He explains the entirety of the mission - the demon art and how he felt, the demon that was a Lower Moon that took your shape and how you managed to defeat it effortlessly. He explained how his body felt - hot, heavy and in excruciating pain; nauseous at the forbidden sight of you. Sanemi even goes as far as to detail the internal dialogue and the flashes of delusion his mind sent as to how badly he desired to have you.

Tengen listens with wide eyes, attempting his hardest now to cackle at Sanemi’s explanation.

“What you explain to me, Shinazugawa, sounds like consensual sex.” Tengan shakes his head. Kids, he thinks, even if you and Sanemi were considered adults. Still, anyone younger than him would be kids in his eyes. “She wanted you. You wanted her. You fucked the life-” Sanemi growls, tips of his ears hot red. 

“Look,” Uzui chuckles. “That’s not assault. Did Y/N feel indifferent about it?”

Sanemi glances away with a shrug. He didn’t know how you felt.

“Did you two talk about it?”

Sanemi shakes his head.

“...What did you do?”

“Ignored her.”

Tengen groans. He wants to send another punch to Sanemi’s nose but refrains. “You take her virginity and fuck her all night while declaring to always protect her and,” Tengen raises one hand and does air quotations. “the child you were begging to fuck into her just to ignore her this whole time?”

Sanemi stiffens. When he thinks of it that way, it sounded more fucked up then he intended.

Tengen stands, shaking his head at the dumb Wind Hashira. “Unflashy of you.” he turns and begins to journey back to his own home.

Sanemi stands with a huff. His nose was broken now and the only person who could fix it was unfortunately Kocho. He journeys to the Butterfly Mansion, mind on his conversation with Uzui.

Sanemi didn’t want to leave you the morning he woke. He desired to hold you close to him, inhaling your sweet scent. But he was disgusted with himself more than anything. In his mind, he took advantage of you and your intoxicated state. There were bruises and marks littering your once perfect skin - all made by him and his savage ways. He couldn’t control himself and now you were forever tainted - he didn’t regret his night with you. He regretted how it happened.

Sanemi admitted to himself that morning that he loved you, stating it aloud while you slept soundlessly. His mind also recalls the way you also admitted to loving him during your time together, but that was during your intoxicated state of sex and the demon art. But knowing what love meant to him only meant there was a matter of time until the love he harbored would crush him. Memories of the night prior flood in and he thinks about how deep he was into the demon art that he was paralyzed right beneath a Lower Moon. What if you weren’t capable enough to stop her? It would’ve been his fault why you died - and the thought sent shivers all over his body.

It hurts Sanemi to ignore you, but he wanted you to hate him. He wanted you to eventually be so angered with him that you wouldn’t bother to care for him any longer.

But no, instead you apologized. You thanked him. You left - all because you thought you were a burden to him.

“Sit.” Shinobu is curt with her responses to Sanemi. “Oh my, your nose is broken. Who managed to get to you first?”

Sanemi doesn’t retort in the way he usually would. “Uzui.”

Shinobu giggles with satisfaction. Serves you right, she wants to say. 

Shinobu places her hands on Sanemi’s nose and jerks it harshly. Sanemi hisses, eyes snapping shut at the pressure.

“Fixed.” Shinobu sing-songs. “You’re free to go.”

Sanemi doesn’t stand, not even when Shinobu has turned to give him a look of distaste.

“Is Y/N alright?”

Shinbou’s eyebrows knit harshly. “Y/N is none of your concern!” she snaps. “Not after all you’ve done to her.”

Sanemi sighs. “She told you.” he states. “I saw her…coming here a few times. Just-”

“You don’t have the right to act concern now, Shinazugawa.” Shinobu interrupts. Sure, she doesn’t know the full story of you and Sanemi’s relationship, but she knows enough of the outcome of it. “You’ve put her through enough.”

Sanemi stands and makes his leave. Everyone loved you, as they should, but everyone hated him. He wasn’t going to get any answers from Shinobu about you and he cannot be upset about it either way.

Y/N-san. How have you been since retiring? It gets lonely sometimes without you here but I I was told by Genya-kun to be a man. Even so, I can see that even he appears to be saddened by your loss. He doesn’t speak to me much without me talking first, but we eat together often when we can. It feels different without you here to keep the peace. I hope you’re doing good, Y/N-san, and you find the peace you deserve.

-Hoshi Shinra

You read Shinra’s message with a soft smile on your lips. You’re glad that he and Genya could get along with one another. You know just how Genya could be - similar to his brother at times. But he was a good boy, after all. 

It’s been only a month since you retired from the Corps. Retired sounds foreign to say. You haven’t been a slayer for long and you even felt ashamed to say that you’ve retired already. Those who were younger than you remained in the corps and fought while you retired; seemingly from a broken heart. You want to laugh at how weak you truly were, but you decided against it.

Returning home wasn’t what you truly wished to do. You haven‘t spoken to your father in close to two years - not even a letter. He hasn’t attempted to find you, either, and possibly assumed you were either dead or a part of someone's brothel.

The look on your fathers face upon your return was one of pure shock. He hadn’t said anything for the first few moments of seeing you. Was he happy? Angered? Relieved to see his only living child?

Your answer came when the man raised his hand to slap you - a hand you caught easily. You pushed the man away and swallow thickly. He was upset. Surely because you had gone rogue and that meant whatever money your husband had paid you for had to be returned. But, your father was never violent towards you before - the smell of alcohol laced in his breath told you that he had taken in the habit even more while you were gone. 

Your father didn’t stop, however. He was just as talkative as he once was. He yelled at you, stating that you were the reason he had gone broke. He had to work his ass off to pay off your debt to the man that you were destined to marry - that he even had to sell personal items. You shoved a few wads of cash in his face to shut him up. 

You were an adult - always had been. However, you were stronger. You trained alongside Hashira. You beheaded demons - and though you were not on the level of a Hashira, you were damn near close. The Lower Moon was nowhere near what Upper Moon Uzui, Tanjiro, Inosuke and Zenitsu fought, but it was a kizuki nonetheless. You would return home and deal with your father, but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect.

Your father noticed the change in you. He doesn’t ask where you’ve gone for nearly two years. He knows that you’ve grown. Hair longer, body toned and strong and face stoic. You appeared to be alert at all times, even with the slightest of sounds. But, that didn’t stop his disdain for you. 

“You could’ve been set for life.” your father told you one night at dinner. He ate what you cooked with a side of alcohol - a normal set up for him. 

“Could I have? Or would you’ve been set for life without me?’ you retort, taking a bite of the chicken you prepared. Another thing your father had to grow accustomed to - your mouth. You talked back now, an act he didn’t appreciate. 

“I gave you to that man to take care of you!” your father yells, banging his hand onto the table. His breath stinks of sake. You contemplate hiding the bottle, but that would only mean he’d tear the home apart looking for it or just go buy another.

“You sold me to him.” you deadpan. You’re unsure what lie your father had told himself to make himself feel better about it, but it wasn’t the truth. He sold you to get money for himself and get rid of you. You’re back now and he hated you for it - oh well. “I paid my due to you already. Eat your food.”

“Where did you get that money?” your father hisses. The only time he’s seen so much cash upfront was from the man - and you didn’t return from him. “You decided to be an Oiran like I said?” your father scoffs with a shake of his head. 

Your appetite is lost now. You gather the dishes and begin to wash them, deciding that ignoring your father was for the best. But that didn’t mean your father was done. He continues, carrying on how you cost him a lot of money and you being back was a slap to the face. You pondered if retiring was even worth it if it meant you had to deal with him on the daily. You cooked for him on the daily, made sure the home was clean and even bought whatever was needed for the home - and still, he hated you. It was as though your existence here was causing him such anger.

Genya, I’m glad to hear from you. I’ve heard from Shinra that you’ve been eating together! I’m glad you and he are building a friendship! I hope you’re eating well and staying healthy. 

Please, stay safe.

-Y/N

You folded Genya’s letter and placed it inside a small envelope. You had several letters to go through, even some from those you weren’t expecting. You opened an envelope and were surprised to find several leaves, acorns, seeds and even rocks. The next envelope was from Tanjiro who apologized for the mess caused by Inosuke. Apparently the boy wanted to gift you something after Tanjiro explained that he would be writing you a letter - it warmed your heart knowing that even Inosuke was a part of your penpal group.

The next letter was a surprise, signed by several lower-rank slayers. It caused you to laugh upon reading it, catching you completely off guard. It detailed how Sanemi had turned sour once more and that he was utterly murderous. It continued saying that they wish you were there to calm him down with whatever “miracle” tea you made him while in Asakusa. In the end, they wished you the best on retirement, warming your heart even more.

Y/N, I hope you’re well. Sumi, Naho and Kiyo miss you and though she won’t admit it, so does Aoi. It feels different without you here. Shinazugawa still gets attacked randomly by Hiyori and now even Sorai is too frightened to help! I know you wish to not speak of him, but he asks about you constantly. I have not told him anything, do not worry! I’ve attached some medicine to this letter that would help ease the morning sickness - please take it daily. Please keep yourself in good health; not only for you, but for the baby.

-Kocho Shinobu

Shinobu was sent from heaven, you’re convinced. It was only a few days ago that you spoke of your nausea daily in a letter - even when it stretched far from the morning. It was difficult keeping any food down and water appeared to be the only thing that didn’t mess with your stomach. The medicine she gave appeared to be enough to last a month or two.

You laid a hand on your stomach and sighed. You weren’t far along, only in your fourth month. You thought you appeared bigger than normal, but maybe it was just your head doing things to you,

Your mind flickers to the same day you found out about said pregnancy and how you spoke with shinobu. She had assured that it would be painless - and you believed her. She made you a drink and handed it to you with a warm look in her eyes.

You recall the way you smelt it before attempting to drink. Your hands were trembling and as you brought it to your lips, you felt just how wet your cheeks were.

You couldn’t do it.

Shinobu had consoled you for what appeared to be hours. You apologized profusely to her, stating that you were doing nothing but wasting her time. She assured you that you weren’t, that you were going through something normal. She never onced judged you - and for that you were thankful. She had kept your secret and allowed you to leave the Corps with whatever dignity you had left.

Your father, on the other hand, was another story. Upon returning home with a flat stomach, he was beginning to think he was seeing things when your stomach began to grow. Your kimono couldn’t have been that big and your weight didn’t change elsewhere but your stomach. “That’s why you returned home.” he spat once he realized just what was the issue with you. “Because whatever man that did this to you had left you! It’s what you deserve for leaving.”

It’s what you deserved, his words rang in your ear.

Once all of your letters were written, you pushed yourself away from your desk and stood. You were trying to make it a habit to walk. You didn’t feel different now early on in your pregnancy, but you didn’t want anything to change as you grew closer to when you were expected. 

You strolled out of your home, finding the sun to be high in the sky. Your father would be at the pub right about now, not that you cared where he spent his time. 

There’s a light breeze, you note, as you walk. It isn’t a warm breeze that causes your skin to crawl with such heat, but a nice one that causes you to sigh in relief. 

“I hope it’s a girl!”

You turn to the sound of the sudden voice. You were strolling for about ten minutes, not far from your home. You thought you were alone - a village is not far from here, but usually people didn’t tend to walk down this path often.

Your eyes catch a child - a small girl. Her eyes are large and blue and she’s smiling at you. Her hair is black and tied in a low bun. Her kimono was long and red and her obi was orange.

“Ah, hello.” you offer her your own smile. She’s cute, so small and innocent.  “I never thought about gender much.”

You’re unaware she could see your bump through your kimono.

The girl crosses her arms. “I hope it’s a girl.” she repeats. “There’s a lot of boys in my family. I only have one sister.” she has a look of disdain on her face.

You giggle. “Is that so? But don’t you love them?”

The girl seems to ponder on your question before nodding. 

“Then it’s alright, isn’t it?” you question. 

The girl slowly nods. “I guess so.” she murmurs. “I remember when my baby brother was born!”

“Is that so?” you ask. 

The girl begins to walk besides you as she speaks, never focusing on just one topic and instead jumping between a few of them.  You listen to what she has to say, unphased to be speaking to a child. You assumed she lived nearby and her brothers were in the village where the majority of the shops were at. She spoke fondly of them and this causes your heart to swell. You missed your own brother at times.

“Would you like something…to drink…?” your eyes scan the surrounding area for the little girl who was just talking your ear off to find her gone. You hum. She must’ve ran off somewhere. You only hope she would find her siblings before the sun set.

“Must you cut yourself so deep?” you sigh, dousing the ointment across his open wound. “Surely any amount of blood could intoxicate the demons.”

The mission was done, leaving Sanemi a bloody mess before you. You learn to pack a small kit for this moment after the first time he cut himself in front of you to distract a demon.

Sanemi snickers. “I get carried away sometimes.”

You knit your brows, glancing into his eyes. He’s already watching you, and noticing your eyes meet, he glances away.

“It doesn’t really hurt anymore.” Sanemi continues just as you apply the bandage over the wound. “I’ve got enough scars to prove that I’ve been doing this for a while.”

You nod at his words, your eyes scanning the amount of scars littering his skin. It covers his entire torso, back and arms. Some appear to be fresh while others old and forming into new skin on top. 

“Do they bother you?”

Sanemi’s question catches you by surprise. You shake your head, hoping he didn’t think you were insulting his appearance. “I think they’re interesting.”

Sanemi hums. 

Sanemi’s not entirely convinced. 

“Each scar has a story to it.” you say. You lean back to give the man a smile. “It shows just how strong you are.”

You pat a scar on his chest gently and Sanemi feels himself grow hot. He turns his eyes back to you, finding that you weren’t lying. Your eyes show just how sincere you were being with him. 

“Children often run from me.” Sanemi tries to joke with you to lighten the mood, but he curses himself mentally at the look in your eyes. 

“Maybe you should smile more.” you offer and this causes Sanemi to scoff aloud. “I’m serious! You look terrifying to others when you’re upset.”

“Not to you.” Sanemi states. He didn’t care what other people thought of him. You were different. Your opinion of him mattered.

“Of course not.” you grin. “You’re nice to me.”

Sanemi swallows.

“Let’s try to smile without appearing menacing.” you suggest. Your hands touch his face and Sanemi feels the familiar jolt in his heart. Your hands are soft and you come even closer, your scent surrounds his nostrils. 

You’ve grown used to being able to touch him without a care and Sanemi never pushes you away. 

Your fingers lift his cheeks up and you begin to giggle at how unnatural he appeared. Sanemi concludes that he likes the way your laughter sounds.

The mysterious little girl had returned countless times over the course of three months - this time however with another girl nearly identical to her. Her black hair is tied in a bow in the back of her hair. Her kimono is a minty green with a lime green obi. Her eyes are just as blue as her sisters and you can’t help but giggle at the two of them.

“What do you wish to have, Y/N-san?” they had asked you. “Have you thought of any names?”

You were unsure yourself. You often think of the baby's gender and what you’d name them in the middle of the night when you’re supposed to be sleeping. You wondered if they would have Sanemi’s hair color and eyes or would they take after you. Maybe a complete half of the both of you? You find yourself wishing that the baby would have something of their father, hair, eyes - anything.

“I have thought of no names yet.” you answer truthfully. “I just want them to be strong and healthy.”

“Like their dad?”

You’re taken aback by the statement Slowly, you nod. “Y-Yes. He was…is a very strong man.” you say to them. 

You swallow. You pondered how Sanemi was doing. You have not asked when you write to anyone and they rarely bring him up. You haven’t received any letters so far, but you concluded that they were busy and whenever they were available, they would. 

Still, you harbored no bad feelings for Sanemi. In the end, he was the father of your unborn child, nonetheless, and even if things turned sour, you held him in great respect. It would be difficult to explain to a child why they had no father, but you had years to prepare for that conversation. 

“Do you miss him, Y/N-san?” two pairs of cerulean eyes are watching you and slowly, you nod your head. “Go see him, Y/N-san! I know he misses you, too!”

You giggle at the two girls. They were young. Life was more complicated than what their young minds could comprehend. “Wait here.” you tell them. Your child was kicking on your bladder and you had to once again, relieve yourself.

But the children were gone by the time you returned, but you’ve grown used to the way they’d disappear randomly just to reappear once more. You would leave little treats and candies for them that they never touched - maybe they didn’t like sweets? You never met a kid who didn’t, but eventually you’d learn what they like.

You closed your eyes and inhaled. You swayed back and forth slightly as you sat upon the hardwood floor of the outside deck. The sun felt nice against your skin.

“Y/N…?”

Your eyes flash open at the familiar voice. Your heart pumps.

“Genya?”

Genya was before you. His eyes appear confused. 

“Genya!” you lift yourself from the ground steadily and make your way to the boy standing a few feet away. His eyes are wide as he watches you. “How did you know where to find me? How-”

“You can see me?” Genya asks suddenly and you stop in your tracks. Your smile turns to a frown and now you’re tilting your head. 

“Genya, of course I can see you.” you try to laugh, but nothing you’re saying or doing to ease the situation is doing anything. “Genya,” you shake your head. This had to be a dream of the sort. 

“Y/N, you’re…” Genya swallows thickly with a shake of his head. “There’s a reason why I’m here. You…you’re pregnant.”

Nothing was making sense to you. What was Genya talking about?

“Brother!”

The familiar voices of the two young girls. They come besides you, one at each side. 

“I hope YN-san has a girl! Don’t you think we need more girls in the family?” the one with the red kimono speaks. 

“Yes! I hope she looks just like me.” the one with the minty kimono retorts.

Your blood runs cold. Your eyes widen and now you understand just what’s happening.

“Y/N!” Genya calls for you.

You’ve fallen to your knees, the tears flowing down your face. You’re trembling. 

“Genya…you…you’re..?”

You don’t want the words to leave your lips.

“Yes.”

You sob a little louder. Your heart is pounding outside your chest. 

“Sumi…Teiko…” Genya murmurs. 

“Please don’t cry, Y/N-san.” Sumi says. 

“What happened, Genya? How have you…?” you’re unable to stop the tears from falling. “W-Who else…?”

Genya doesn’t want you to be in pain. He’s unsure what to do or why he’s here - how you can see and speak to not only him, but Sumi and Teiko.

“Don’t cry, Y/N. W-We won.” Genya attempts to lift your mood, but he knows it's useless. “Muzan…muzan is dead.”

You want to scoff at his words.

Because yes, Muzan was dead by what Genya has said.

But at what cause? How many young, innocent lives had been taken during the process? Genya was just the only life gone that you could see.  Has Tanjiro survived along with Zenitsu and Inosuke? Did they manage to turn Nezuko back into a human - the young sweet girl with such kind eyes tugging at your heart strings. Sumire…Roshi…Shinra. Your blood runs cold when your mind wanders to Sanemi.

Genya answers you and you feel as though your heart would give out at any moment. Nearly everyone you have grown to love has sacrificed themselves to stop Muzan. You feel selfish for retiring the way you had. You should’ve fought alongside them. Maybe then-

“Stop blaming yourself, Y/N.” Genya tells you. He can sense the guilt throughout you. “Please don’t think about what could have been.”

“Genya…”

“Think about now.” Genya says, his head motioning to your stomach. “No one blames you for retiring.”

You shake your head. 

“Please calm down, Y/N-san.” Teiko murmurs, her eyes sad at the sight of you. 

“Please, Y/N.” Genya begins. “I-I don’t know what my Aniki did to you but…” he swallows. He feels selfish for even thinking about this. You deserved to feel whatever you felt towards his brother. “...please…don’t hate him. Can you find it in your heart to forgive him?”

Genya’s eyes are hopeful as he looks into your tearful ones. You swallow thickly. You were never upset with Sanemi - you’d forgiven him long ago.

“I-I…” your cheeks are tear stained as your mind attempts to gather all the information given to you. “I have to go.”

Your legs are trembling as you stand. Teiko and Sumi - finally learning the girls' names - are by your side. 

“Y/N, please. You aren’t in the position to go anywhere.” Genya is nervously walking behind you. He is still unsure why he was here. He understands that he had died during the battle, but he recalls reuniting with his younger siblings - then he was here before you. 

“I have to see them.” you’re scurrying around in your home. Your father was nowhere in sight and you’re glad that he wasn’t. You would appear to be talking to yourself.

Genya only shakes his head. You were stubborn and he now understands why his brother loved you as much as he did.

“Okay. I’ll accompany you.” It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. Moving on into the afterlife appeared to be much more difficult then he ever thought it would be. 

Genya watches as you pack a light bag. He finds his eyes wandering to your small bump and he feels warmth - was it possible for him to feel this way while deceased? He’s unsure truly and doesn’t want to question it any longer. 

“Are you sure you want to travel now, Y/N?” Genya questions once you are done. Teiko and Sumi are both by your side again, large eyes so soft and caring for the woman that was you. “I don’t want you to be in harm's way.”

You want to reach out for Genya and touch him, but you’re unsure if it is possible. You never thought to try, either, not sure how you’d react if your hand didn’t get to touch him. “Yes.” you nod. “After all, you guys won.”

Your mind is unsure how long Sanemi and you had gone round for round - but you’re certain that you cannot get enough. You’ve never pleasured a man before - not until now. But Sanemi wasn’t just any man - he was the man you’ve grown to love. You accepted it now more than ever.

“Y-You don’t have-” Sanemi throws his head back. He’s sweaty, chest rising and falling as he pants. Your lips wrap around the tip of his cock, warm tongue licking gently on the sensitive tip.

Sanemi hisses even more at the feeling of your tongue. He opens his eyes to glance at you and is positive that one day, you’d be the death of him. Not a demon or anything else - but you. 

You looked so beautiful to Sanemi, equally as sweaty with hair sticking to your forehead. Such innocent eyes looking up at him for approval while your mouth sucked him with all the might you could muster. 

Your hand wraps around the length of his cock and pumps while you focus on sucking the tip. You weren’t sure if you were doing this right, however Sanemi’s moaning. Nor does he appear to be bored or upset by your actions, so you’ll assume that he was enjoying himself.

“S-Stop!” Sanemi jerks, feeling himself ready to cum - as embarrassing as it was. It hasn’t even been five minutes. 

But you don’t, enjoying the flushed look on Sanemi’s cheeks. You go as far as your mouth would allow, feeling the tip of him hit your throat. You begin to gag, feeling your throat clog up, but you don’t stop. Sanemi’s moans edge you on and your legs clench together, enjoying the way you were making him feel. 

Your head bobs up and down, suckling. The sounds of your sucking mixed with low curses and grunts from Sanemi echo off the room. The sight is as filthy as it comes, but neither of you cared. 

You release Sanemi’s cock from your mouth with a pop, a string of saliva connecting from your lip to the tip of it. Sanemi twitches slightly, finally able to calm down - but still, you had other plans. You allowed Sanemi to take control for hours, now it was your turn to pleasure him.

Sanemi’s eyes snap open when you sit upon his lap. You give him a cute smile that melts his heart.

“I’m not really sure how good I’ll be.” you tell him, leaning down to peck his lips.

Sanemi grunts into the kiss. He positions himself at your entrance. “You’ll be amazing,” he responds.

You sit fully onto Sanemi’s cock, hands placing themselves on his bare shoulders. You shudder, the familiar pleasure coming back to you. 

Sanemi watches between hooded eyes as you begin to move your hips, his hands placing themselves permanently onto your hips. You’d do amazing, he told you, and amazing you did. You started off stiff, unsure of what to do, but after a few moments you got the hang of it. You lifted your hips and brought them back down at a steady pace. 

Sanemi finds it hard to focus on just one thing. Your breasts are bouncing for him to see and for a moment, he’s mesmerized. Then his eyes catch the sight of your pussy - wet and dripping with slick all over him. You’re clenched onto him so tight that he’s sure he wouldn’t last long in this position, either. 

Sanemi decides that your face is where he wants to settle his eyes. He could never get tired of calling you beautiful. Your face contorts with pleasure, mouth panting as you pleasured yourself upon him. Your eyes are fluttering, fighting to remain close or to open.

Lilac eyes meet yours when you do open them. You feel hot with humiliation having Sanemi see you lost in the moment. His fingernails dig into the skin of your hips when he notices your back from your high. 

“I love you, Nemi.” you murmur, unsure what in the world you were going through that made you confess such words suddenly. It causes Sanemi to stiffen at the confession. But you don’t notice, far too entranced with pleasure to care. You lean down and kiss his lips.

“Say it again.” Sanemi buckles his hips forward, thrusting into you at an alarming speed. 

Sanemi pushes himself forward, wrapping his arms around you to bring you even closer to him. He doesn’t want you to leave his arms - not now. He brings you onto your back, hovering above you. “Say it again.” he repeats, thrusting deeply inside of you. 

“I love you, Nemi!” you exclaim. The familiar churning in your stomach is coming back, and with the clenching you’re doing on his cock, you’re positive that you were going to cum once more.

“Again.” Sanemi holds you tighter. He never wants this moment to end - the intimacy the two of you shared at this moment is the most alive he’s ever felt. 

“I…I…” you’re cumming, eyes rolling to the back of your head. But Sanemi doesn’t stop, not until he's assured that he came deep inside of you, your words replaying over and over again in his mind. 

I love you, Nemi.

I love you, Nemi.

I love you.

Sanemi’s cumming, his eyes fluttering close. He places his head at the nape of your neck and he’s pampering kisses. He doesn’t move, not until he’s cum deep and he finds himself softening slowly - for the time being.

“Tanjiro…” you murmured, feeling relief wash over you upon seeing the boy.

 Your eyes scanned the room as you did so, finding Uzui with Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio. You take notice that Rengoku’s father is here along with his younger brother, the resemblance is quite uncanny. Zenitsu appears to be in and out of sleep while Nezuko is seated beside her brother. It tugs at your heartstrings noticing that she no longer appeared like her demon self.

“Y/N-san!” Tanjiro's eyes widen at your sudden appearance. “Hello.”

You feel a mountain of eyes upon you - or more so on your stomach. Genya is beside you, watching as a few gasps are heard. “Act like they have never seen a pregnant woman before.” he grumbles and you can only silently giggle. 

“I’m glad you all are safe.” you feel teary eyed at your words. You hadn’t gotten the chance to say a proper goodbye to Shinobu or Mitsuri, only your letters. You pondered if they received them before their battle. As you watch Tanjiro lay upon the bed, you’re yet again reminded of the many young lives that suffered…Sumire…Roshi…Muichiro.

“Ah, Y/N!”

Genya is startled by the sudden call of your name behind them. In the doorway is Shinra and he’s panting. He’s covered in bandages from head to toe and even has a limp as he strolls. “Shinra…” he murmurs. “...you did survive.”

“Shinra!” you wanted to engulf him in a hug but stopped yourself. He looked seconds away from dropping. “I’m so glad you’re safe. You must’ve fought hard.”

“A little too hard.” Shinra jokes, chuckling to himself. He then winces, now remembering why he refrained from laughing. Or speaking. Or anything besides breathing.

“Y/N!” Suma is the first of the group to react to you. She runs to you and engulfs you in a tight hug. She’s sobbing as she speaks. “You’re here! You’re pregnant! You have such a lovely glow to you-”

Makio punches Suma in the head, eyes glaring at the girl. “Stop yelling!” she hisses. “You’re going to crush her! Can’t you see she’s fragile?!”

Tengan sighs but he can’t help but smile. It felt whole in a way, almost as if you never left. Suma was right, however. You had the pregnancy glow to you. Your skin appeared to be blemish free and hydrated, your smile reached your eyes and your bump was round and healthy.

“Where is Giyuu-san? I haven’t had the chance to see him.” you say aloud. You want to ask for Sanemi, as well, but you chose not to.

“They should be finishing with the meeting soon.” Tengan strolls towards you. He has a grin on his lips and he gently pats your head. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, as well, Uzui-san.” you say. You place a hand upon your stomach and hum.

“Hey!”

It’s Inosuke. He’s come from behind Shinra, shoving his way in. Shinra hisses as he’s set to the nearest wall by the boy. Inosuke isn’t wearing his boar mask as he looks at you. 

“Inosuke. Hello.” you say, glad to see the young boy seemingly well. “I’m glad to see you’re safe. You are King of the Mountains, after all.”

Uzui scoffs with a roll of his eyes. 

“You’ve been well, too!” Inosuke’s voice is gruff as he speaks. “Since you’ve gotten fat. You must’ve been eating really well!”

“You imbecile!” Shinra wails, eyes glaring at Inosuke.

Tengan sends a fist upon Inosuke’s head. “She’s not fat, you idiot!”

You’re laughing at the sight. “It’s okay.” you assure them, understanding that Inosuke meant no harm. “He’s probably never seen a pregnant person before.”

Inosuke refrains from attacking Uzui like he wants to. “What’s that?” he asks, his head turning to Tanjiro.

Tanjiro chuckles slightly, a red tint on his face. He always has to explain things to Inosuke in more animalistic terms. “Y/N-san has mated with someone. That’s why her stomach has gotten a little bigger.”

Inosuke hums, eyes turning back to you. He tilts his head with a nod, now understanding.

“Stupid idiotic boar.” Genya hisses. 

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N.” Hinatsuru waves with a kind smile. “Please come visit us before you leave.”

You nod. “I will. I promise.” you assure. “I’m going to go find Giyuu-san.”

Tengan follows you out. He only allows you to go down the hall before he calls for you. “And what about Shinazugawa?”

Genya turns his head, as do you.

“Are you planning on seeing him, as well? I know he’s been…” Tengan trails his words off, hoping that you’d understand where he was going with this. 

“I will be seeing Sanemi, as well.” you nod. 

Tengan allows himself to watch you as you walk away, turning out of sight. He inhales once more, this time wishing that the former Wind Hashira would admit the way he feels. Not just for your or his sake, but for the sake of the unborn child.

Giyuu is the first one you find. He’s already walking your way when you happen to see him. “You cut your hair, Giyuu-san!” you say, waving his way.

Giyuu appears to be shocked at your presence before him, but he manages to not have his eyes linger on your obvious pregnant belly. He offers a small grin your way with a nod. 

“It’s good to see that you’re alive.” you murmur to him, taking in his appearance. You notice that his right arm has seemingly been lost during battle and again, you feel yourself grow with guilt.

“You, as well.” Giyuu responds. “Congratulations.”

You grow hot and nod your thanks. You allow Giyuu to pass you, Genya furrowing his brows at the man. He was never one to speak much and oftentimes you found yourself talking to him, wondering if he was ever telling you to shut up mentally. 

“You think Aniki would be at his estate?” 

“I’m not sure.” you murmur. You place a hand onto your stomach, the baby is seemingly moving. “You must be excited.” you say, laughing to yourself. 

You’re nervous and that part is obvious. You wanted to see Sanemi, yes. Your heart is full knowing that he managed to survive. You don’t know how you’d react when your eyes meet his for the first time in months - you hope you wouldn't cry. 

The journey to Sanemi’s home is rather quick. Maybe you were walking fast to get it over with - pay your respect and leave. You found yourself outside the familiar shoji doors, contemplating if sending a letter was more appropriate then coming up unannounced.

“Go.” Genya speaks. “I’ll stay behind so you can have a level of privacy.”

Genya disappears - the first time since you first saw him days ago. You gulp, hands feeling sweaty.

You lightly tap the shoji doors before sliding them open. The home is quiet and appears the same as when you left months prior. You remove your shoes and continue into the home, heart quickening.

You find yourself holding your breath when you see him. He’s seated on the hardwood floor in the sitting area, in his hands the rhinoceros beetle he claimed as a pet. He’s feeding it some fruit you note, watching intently. 

“Sanemi.” your voice is low and barely audible, but Sanemi is alert. His head snaps in the direction of your voice and he noticeably gasps. 

Sanemi blinks once, then twice - you were here. You weren’t a fragment of his imagination like he initially thought. Through the months his mind could still hear your voice as if you never left. He was sure he’s gone insane sometimes when he’d awake and swear his ears pick up on you cooking, low hums coming from your lips. 

You feel uncomfortable under his intense gaze. You’re considering you coming to see Sanemi was a mistake, unsure if he truly wished to see you.

“I-I’m sorry.” you murmur. You blink away, unsure as to why you were truly apologizing for - maybe for coming unannounced after all these months. 

Sanemi places the beetle back into the wooden cage and places it beside him. He lifts himself up onto his feet and makes his way to you. He’s quick, placing both calloused hands on your cheek. His left thumb rubs your cheek gently, enjoying the feeling of getting to touch you after so long. Your eyes catch the bandage wrapped around his right hand and you frown deep. “Your hand…” you murmur, your own softer hands wrapping around the bandage. You notice he’s missing his index and middle finger. 

Sanemi doesn’t care about his injuries. He’s far too enthralled that you’re in front of him. He takes a step back, eyes going lower to your stomach.

You swallow, breath hitching. You feel uneasy with his gaze. His face was stoic, unable to read just what his thoughts were. You feel a few kicks from the baby and you’re sure they were just as uneasy at this moment.

“Sanemi?”

You break the silence after around 5 minutes of Sanemi’s staring. His head snaps to you. “You’re pregnant.” he states the obvious. 

“Yes.” you nod. 

Sanemi is silent once more and again, the silence is killing you. You’re unsure of what he’s feeling - if he was feeling anything at all. 

Sanemi glances away from you. His heart is jolting once more, but now with sorrow. He’s lost you for good, he thinks, and now he wants nothing more than for the world to swallow him whole. 

“You’ve found a husband?” Sanemi asks but he doesn’t truly want to know. The thought of someone else getting to have you causes his heart to feel sad, sorrow erupting through him. He can never blame you for finding love elsewhere, it’s what you deserved.

“Aniki’s an idiot.” Genya groans. You flinch at the sudden sound of Genya who is standing behind his brother. Your brows furrow at the boy who raises his hands. “I’ll take my leave now.” he states and again, disappears once more. 

You take another deep breath and shake your head. “No.” you murmur. “The baby is yours.”

Sanemi was sure he’d have whiplash the way his head snaps back to you. His eyes are wide with realization - how big your stomach was, the child growing in you; his child. 

You’re shocked when Sanemi suddenly falls to his knees. His hands are on the ground while his head is hung low. He’s trembling, you note, and you’re confused about what's happening. 

“S-Sanemi, I-” Did you anger him? You’re unsure what to do - should you leave? 

You got your answer on what Sanemi was doing when your ears pick up on low sobs. You kneel down in front of him, eyes noticing droplets on the hardwood floor. You stand straighter and gulp.

Sanemi was crying.

You’ve never seen Sanemi cry. He was always a strong person, showing little emotion. Others once cower at the sight of him, tip-toeing around him to not anger the man. He was always different around you - smiling, often joking and never lashing out at you.

But crying - Sanemi never cried.

“Nemi…?” you place a hand on top of his hand, fingers gently rubbing the white tresses. 

Sanemi lifts himself up to look at you, tears staining his cheeks. He moves fast, arms wrapping around you. His head lays upon your bump and wants to cry even harder when he feels soft kicks.

“Please forgive me, Y/N.” Sanemi’s begging now, His tears don’t stop and he doesn’t let you go. He never wants to, afraid that if he does you’ll leave him once more. 

“Nemi,” you murmur. Your heart swells at the sight of him and you want to laugh at the situation. “I’m not upset with you.”

“You should hate me.” Sanemi murmurs, lifting his face from your bump to look at you. “I took advantage of you.” He left you to fend for yourself, pregnant and all. He shouldn’t feel as if it was completely his fault - he had no idea you were pregnant and if he had, he would have never allowed you to leave. However, he cannot help how he feels. 

“You didn’t take advantage of me, Nemi.” you play your hand - so soft, Sanemi thinks -  against his cheek. “I said I loved you, didn’t I?”

Sanemi’s throat tightens and again - as pathetic he’s sure he looks - he feels himself crying. His heart jolts and for the first time in months, he feels happy. Watching Genya die before his eyes while claiming that he always protected him had shot a hole through his heart. It’s a feeling that would never go away, but having you back before him pregnant with his child was the feeling he needed to feel whole again. 

“Thank you.” Sanemi murmurs, arms unwrapping just for his hands to place upon your stomach. 

“I didn’t do anything.” you giggle.

Sanemi shakes his head. You’ve done a lot. You weren’t upset with him for how he treated you after the two of you were intimate. You decided to come back from your home, pregnant and not far from giving birth he’s sure. You were a gift he wasn’t sure he deserved - you and his child.

“Stand up.” you tell Sanemi and he does what he’s told. “Stop crying, Nemi. It’s okay.” you offer a smile.

Sanemi’s heart jolts again. 

You’re as beautiful as you always were and now you’re glowing. 

Sanemi wants to cry yet again.

Sanemi can never keep his hands off of your stomach. He always has to hold it - while the both of you sleep. While you both sat and ate. Any reason he could to hold you bump, he would and you couldn’t be upset about it. He even would place his ear against your stomach - mostly as you slept - to hear the heartbeat of his child and yours. It brought him ease, assuring that the both of you were safe. 

Sanemi was more fascinated with the sudden kicks. He recalls many years ago when his mother fell pregnant for the first time with Genya and how intrigued he was at her size - and when he noticed her stomach moving at an alarming rate. Then she fell pregnant again, again and again until his youngest brother was born.

Sanemi was nervous about traveling back to your home and leaving his estate for good. Now that the Demon Slayer Corps was disbanded for good, he had no reason to stay - “only if you want”, was Kiriya’s words. And he was until you had come to him. Now, you had made plans on going home and home meant where your father resided. He had never met your father and truly had no plans to, but by what you have told him, he was not a man Sanemi would like. He wouldn't want you or his child to be disrespected by the likes of him.

You were now 8 months and so close to giving birth that Sanemi often walked on egg shells. He never wanted to leave your sight in case it happened suddenly. Not only that, but he missed the majority of your pregnancy that he didn’t wish to not be at your side for whatever you needed - stomach rubs, random cravings in the middle of the day or night. He would massage you - especially your feet that had since swollen up due to your pregnancy. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. 

You have been spoiled since you returned and couldn’t be more grateful and happier. Tengan has bought a mountain of clothing items for both you and the baby, claiming that it would be the most flamboyant child around - after his own, of course. Suma, Hinatsuru and Makio were always around, dousing you with compliments and gushing over your growing bump.

Inosuke was still curious about your stomach, but understood you weren’t fat. He’d still gift you leaves and other things he could find and become one of your eating buddies, even eating food from your plate. Tanjiro had scolded him but you assure that it was alright.

Shinra was recovering and now could move freely without a mountain of cast and bandages. You were glad the boy survived, truly. He had grown slightly from the frightened little boy of Final Selection. Upon learning that he had no family left to go to, you had offered for him to stay with you - much to Sanemi’s dismay. However, if he didn’t want to admit it, Shinra was much like his own brother. Genya and he were the same age, often having similar outbursts and interests. Plus he couldn’t be upset that you’ve grown an older sibling-like bond to the boy. It was one of the many reasons why he loved you.

“Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you?” Sanemi has a look of confusion on his face as he awaits your answer.

Sanemi thought you were beautiful now more than ever. You were carrying his child, after all, putting your body at risk for him and the child you shared. It makes the man angered at himself for having you think that he wouldn’t find you attractive.

Maybe it was because he hasn’t attempted to touch you - which it isn't like he didn’t want to. He finds himself wanting to be inside you all the time but he stops himself from trying and would rather jack it off in the bathroom. You had just returned and he was sure the last thing you wanted to do was be intimate with him, and so he waited for you to initiate it.

However, then you asked him now as the both of you laid in bed, a calloused hand rubbing your stomach if he found you unattractive due to your appearance.

“I’m kinda fat right now and-”

“Did that boar call you fat, again?” Sanemi hisses, eyes glaring. He wanted to castrate Inosuke when he found out he said it the first time but refrained because of you.

You roll your eyes. “No. It’s how I feel.” you tell him. “You don’t attempt to touch me. I don’t think you find me as attractive as before.”

Sanemi sighs. He wants to laugh because damn, you had no idea how he truly desired to have you. He doesn’t want to hurt you is another reason why he stops himself - the fear of leaving your perfect skin with bruises and marks. That, and if anything happened to his child or you during the act, he would never forgive himself.

“You can sit on my face?” Sanemi offers suddenly, far too excited that you’re gasping.

“No!” you exclaim, growing hot at his sudden words. 

“Why not?” Sanemi questions, feeling disappointed.

“I-I’m too big to be sitting on you, Nemi!” you roll your eyes but manage to giggle. 

“No you aren’t.” Sanemi assures. “Have you forgotten what I was prior? Have I grown soft?” he’s teasing you not, but he peppers kissing onto your cheek, trailing down to your jaw to your neck. His hand slides up to cup your breast and you find yourself moaning at the sensation.

Sanemi didn’t care about himself and his own pleasure. He found pleasure in your own. You were sensitive, far more than ever. Your breast had grown due to the pregnancy and Sanemi was but a man, diving right into them, rubbing and suckling on the sensitive nipple. 

You’re a moaning and gasping mess. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed Sanemi’s hands upon you. It was different from your time with him in Shinjuku, of course. He and you weren’t under a demon art - even though you couldn’t completely blame the mark. Now, however, Sanemi was sane and attentive, purely focusing on worshiping you.

You’re unsure when Sanemi had managed to strip you of your underwear but in a matter of seconds you’re bare to him, a humiliating feeling washing over you when you feel his lips upon your thighs.

“Nemi…”

Sanemi grunts a response, kissing until he finds your wet lips. He quickly pecks them before his tongue lapse between your folds. He keeps you in a firm hold as you’re squirming. He doesn’t hold back in pleasuring you, enjoying the sounds of your sweet moans.

Sanemi’s tongue is flat as he bobs his head back and forth, determined to make you cum. Once he realizes you’ve begun to relax in his hold, his left hand add’s two fingers inside of you and pumps.

Your back arches, a slew of moans, grunts and gasps releasing from your lips. Your walls clench around his fingers, thighs trembling at the pleasure. You weren’t aware how much you truly missed Sanemi, even outside of intimacy. You were only intimate with him one time (for hours on end) and even then, waking up alone without his warmth felt lonely. Now you can wake up to him besides you, hand onto your stomach. It felt nice - almost as if you never left to begin with.

Sanemi’s fingers curl inside of you, pumping a little faster. He muffles against your clit when he feels your hands in his hair. His pants were feeling tight, cock twitching.

You begin to grind against his tongue and Sanemi encourages it. He removes his fingers from inside of you to now grip your thighs to give you more access to do so.

“Please, Nemi…” you groan, licking your lips. You were now clenching around nothing. “...I need you.”

Sanemi lifts from between your legs, licking your sweet slick from his lips. He looks at your face to find you already looking at him through hooded eyes.

Sanemi could never deny you - not now especially. He knows what you want and he’s quick to undress himself. He’s hesitant slightly, not wanting to ever harm you. He lays beside you and offers a quick peck onto your cheek before gently pushing you onto your side. He wanted you to be comfortable.

Sanemi lifts your leg, making sure he held it up for you so you didn’t have to. He centers himself at your entrance and shudders, the familiar warmth and wetness brings back the memories of when he first had you.

You’re clamping around Sanemi as he enters you slowly. His breath tickles your neck where he’s kissing lovingly. Sanemi’s slow with his thrusts, but it feels good nonetheless. He never knew sex could be just as amazing when he wasn’t being rough, but he noted that it was better because it was with someone he loved.

“It’s okay to go faster.” you moan. Your hand wraps around his wrist for comfort. “You won’t be hurting me.”

Sanemi grunts. He does what you ask, picking up his pace only slightly. Your juices are coating his cock, pussy clenching so heavenly around him that he catches himself fluttering his eyes closed. He inhales your familiar scent - the same scent that has since plagued his home. His heart no longer feels lonely, yearning for a lost love.

“I love you.” Sanemi murmurs, the confession causing his cheeks to flush red. He hasn’t told you explicitly like this before, only while you slept your exhaustion off in Shinjuku. His hand allows your leg to drop, sliding up your thigh to your stomach. “Thank you.” he groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

Sanemi was going to come and you know this. You wanted to ask what in the world he was thanking you for, but you had a clue. Random times Sanemi would thank you - “thank you for coming back to me”, “ thank you for carrying my child”, “thank you for loving me”.

Sanemi’s confession to loving you, however, was what made you cum and your words repeating his own was what made him.

A rare sight to see truly - Shinazugawa Sanemi was crying. Weeping at the sight of his child, cheeks flushed and puffy. The girls of the butterfly mansion were the first to be dumbfounded by the sight, gasping at the tall, scarred man with bulging muscles. The same man who would slam the door open and demanded to be treated, uncaring if they were busy or not. Now this same man held such a small infant in his arms, so close to his chest afraid to let go. 

You were brought into the Butterfly Mansion by Shinra one evening while Sanemi had been out gathering the food you were craving. You were stunned when not ten minutes later your water had broken and Shinra was a nervous wreck, eyes wide and looked as though he was nearly about to cry. He was then instructed to go get Sanemi while Aoi set you up on the birthing futon, the three small girls whose names he had not learned were gathering towels, water and other supplies for the birthing process.

Sanemi was by your side no later than five minutes, having thrown the food in Shinra’s arms and dashed away, a gush of in his trail. It was truly a sight to see - Sanemi so caring and loving, holding onto you while murmuring how amazing you were doing. He allowed you to hold his hand and squeeze the life out of it - whatever it took for you to deliver the child safely.

The first sounds of cries cause a wave of relief over Sanemi, you crashing against him in exhaustion. He recalls kissing your head, the sounds of his child louds wails are an accomplishment of what you brought into this world.

“It’s a boy!” Naho, Sumi and Kiyo say in unison and Aoi only smiles towards the wide-eyed former Hashira. She had placed the baby in your arms, innocent eyes looking around curiously but not focusing on anything.

It wasn’t far when the small room was full, Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma low cooing at the sight of the baby. Shinra has a soft smile on his lips, paying his own visit while Tengan is beside Sanemi, who’s eyes had not left his son or you.

“How does it feel?” Tengan asks Sanemi, who blinks but doesn’t take his eyes from you.

“Surreal.” Sanemi responds.

Sanemi felt happy for once. Was it selfish to say this was the happiest he felt in years? He was happy when you came back into his life and brought a new meaning into it. He can even say he felt happy when he learned that they had won the battle against Muzan, even if in the moment he wished he would have died alongside his brother. 

However, there was no happiness that could replace the one he felt at the sight of his child; his son. There was like a new light that overcame him as he watched you nurse his child or hold him close with such love. It’s insane to think that you were the reason that he felt happy once more - he was once content on dying knowing that he would possibly never have a family. Now, he cannot imagine his life without the little family you have given him.

“I don’t think Y/N-san can see us anymore.” Teiko says, a little sadness laced into her voice. “Another boy in the family.”

“Yes.” Sumi murmurs. “At least he’s cute!”

Genya places both hands upon his sisters shoulders. He has a soft smile on his lips, eyes watching his elder brother and how content he appeared. He then looks towards you and the baby - his nephew. “Aniki is happy again.” he says, more to himself than his sisters. 

Sanemi had kneeled down besides you, his index finger lightly stroking his son's cheek.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Genya says, understanding fully that you could no longer see nor hear him. Teiko and Sumi have now disappeared and he finds himself fading, as well. 

[internetegoist]

Of Shidou Ryusei ; And how his character connects towards sexual trauma

(Content warning: Major mentions of SA/CSA and abuse, minor mentions for NSFW behaviour. Most of them aren't in graphic detail, but please please be wary of it 🙏 There's also spoilers for CSM and A Clockwork Orange)

Shidou's character is one of those that sticks with you throughout the entire series. It feels like we know everything about him, yet there's something so mysterious about his behaviour that makes you wonder, what's with this guy? We know how he acts, his violence and vulgarity injected in his brain and blood, but yet we don't know why he acts the way he is. It is very heavily implied that he went through a sort of restriction, born in a bird cage which he freed himself from through going to Blue Lock, but what is that restriction? What was the bird cage which trapped him? What was it that was holding him back from searching for freedom and exploring the world?

Since then, there's been a large speculation of theories on what his backstory could be. But one of them I want to talk about is about how his backstory is connected to SA, and how he could have experienced it at a young age. At first, I was extremelyyy hesitant to follow it due to how it made me a bit uncomfortable to discuss about, and how I saw a majority of people supporting the theory use it for shock value rather than a chance to devolve into darker topics. Of course, not the case for everyone who supports the theory, just from my own personal experience in the fandom.

But now, I can see the extremely, deeply discomforting vision on how this could be true in a way. From both his favourite manga and movie involving SA as an integral part in the story, to the concerning side of him being slightly revealed in the Egoist Bible. (Eg. crying at the end of the day, when he's feeling nothing or when he's empty, as well as his dislike of gifts)

Due to my heavy interests, I wanted to explore this theory into a more deeper matter. I decided to analyze more of his behaviour, as well as doing some of my own research. I must say, Shidou's behavioral manner can be one that is similar to those of SA survivors, especially male survivors.

Okay okay, enough yapping around. Let me get straight to the point.

Shidou and his instinct's responses

Generally after experiencing sexual abuse, one's entire personality will change. Every behaviour change is different for every sexual abuse survivor. Sometimes they'll isolate themselves more often, sometimes they turn into a much aggressive and violent person. Because the world has failed them, the world is putting them in a place where they are no longer safe and are more vulnerable. Because when your entire sense of self and personal power is taken away by your abuser, you are left with nothing but fear and new survival instincts. Why I bring this up is because Shidou's entire personality is built on instincts. His instant response to even the slightest hint of dislike or threat is to immediately beat them up, no matter who they are. A noteworthy thing to mention is that one of the main responses from males following sexual trauma is anger, because it is more socially acceptable for men to react that way. Attacking someone is the best way of defense, and Shidou follows this way of defense entirely. This also follows up with the stigma with the male ethic of self-reliance, in which help-seeking behaviours can be seen as cowardly or unmasculine.

It's most likely the reason why he also dislikes Kunigami's philosophy of heroes; Considering the fact his entire character is based on wanting to be free from restriction, he must have lived in an environment and/or went through a sort of restriction which influenced his ideals of "I can fend myself, I won't need anyone". The world he has grown up in was nothing but survival against the abuse he went through, so for what purpose should he believe in the principle of a savior, if he himself could have never been saved? It doesn't help either when in real time, there have been many cases where survivors of sexual abuse are either never believed when they speak out about it, or never speak out at all in fear of not being believed.

And besides the fact he uses violence as a defense method, one thing I noticed about Shidou is that during the time he was locked up by Ego for inducing violence onto Rin. We see him, perhaps for the first time, being calm and offering a promise that he'll make sure to stop fighting and hitting others, as long as he is let out of that prison he's trapped in. You see, a common reaction victims will use during the process of the SA is to freeze. To stay silent and still. It's like how animals freeze to avoid fights or further harm to themselves, or play dead in order to prevent getting eaten by predators. Although the outer self may seem to be in a calm state, the inside are on high alert, because they are afraid on what will be their abuser's next moves. The option to fight or run away may seem easy to those who haven't experienced SA, but to the victim it may seem harder than you think. Because freezing is a body's instinct response to abuse, and it'll stay frozen until the abuse is over, it's almost like a human's way of playing dead, so that the assault induced will end sooner. Among the instincts of 'fight, flight, freeze', Shidou seems to use fight the most out of the three. However, when necessary times come necessary measures, Shidou, perhaps for the first time, switches to 'freeze' instead of 'fight'. Not only because he basically, cannot physically fight anyone at that moment, but also because he is afraid. Afraid of being restricted yet again, afraid of not having the chance to live his life, which is to play football. The worst position to be in when you're being hurt or abused is limitation. You can't move, you can't fight, you can't run away from your abuse from happening. Nothing but hope that the abuse happening to you will end soon, that your abuser will stop hurting you. That's exactly what is so terrifying about the freeze responses.

Shidou and his sexual behaviour

If any fan knows anything about Shidou, it's that he's not afraid to speak out what's on his mind, especially lewd and inappropriate words. More or less, this can be connecting to something called hypersexuality. Accordingly, hypersexuality is defined as an intense focus on sexual fantasies, urges and behaviours that can't be controlled. Hypersexuality can not only cause distress, but also problems in school and workplace.

Survivors of sexual abuse cope in one of the two ways: Either by avoiding sexual or intimidate interactions entirely, or seeking said interactions on a large and unhealthy scale. According to this article, a majority of men who suffer from hypersexuality or sex addiction have been either physically or sexually abused in their childhood.

We see Shidou quite literally compare scoring a goal in football, to sexual intercourse. (And also the part where he says he's gonna blow his load, with Sae also dismissing it, but it's just partners supporting each other!)

By now, we know that two things that Shidou is unable to separate from each other is life and football. Both the act of life and the act of playing football is interconnected. Because football is something that allows him to leave a mark, allows him to be known by the world. Because football is a biological phenomenon to him, rather than just a sport.

And yes sure, this is supposed to be a connection to his philosophy of leaving a mark on others, so that you can be remembered. But also remember what he says in his monologue: "Those who create something, those who want to become something, and of course, those who make children." The way humans create life is through intimacy, through intercourse. The two people engaging leave a mark on each other through creating that life, that child.

And while speaking about his monologue of leaving a mark, Shidou also mentions that wounding others are a way of leaving behind a proof of existence. Inducing abuse whether it'd be physical, emotional or sexual, can also be one of the ways to make someone remember you.

The abuser leaves the mark on the victim, the mentioned mark left on them can be seen as PTSD or trauma symptoms.

Abuse is not something you can just simply turn away, forget or overlook. Whether the effects of trauma are short-term or long-term, they are there, they are a proof of existence that it happened. Shidou's inability to separate the physical act of football and the biological act of life's desires, especially sexual desires, can be seen as hypersexuality. Hypersexuality can also be seen as a mark left onto the victim. And it's extremely lengthy to recover and remove those marks left on you.

Of Freedom and Shidou Ryusei

I think Shidou Ryusei and his obsession with freedom is something so interesting about his character, yet so many people tend to ignore it as a significant part of him. Because imagine if one day out of the blue, your entire bodily autonomy gets taken away from you, you're trapped in a cycle of repetitive abuse onto you. When it's finally over and you have control over everything again, the world suddenly feels so utterly different. So what do you do? Of course, cling onto that freedom that is now yours.

Bite any other hand that may seem like it's trying to take it away, because if there is one thing you do not ever want to repeat, it is someone isolating you once more against the world. So hold on tightly to the freedom you now have, and make sure it stays with you for eternity.

All of Shidou's favourite things, his favourite film, manga and song, are also connected to this in a way.

It would take too long for me to get into detail about both Chainsaw Man and A Clockwork Orange, but I want to say that both media and their protagonists have approaches to freedom of life and choice.

In Chainsaw Man, Denji is a child that has been depraved of even the basic of human needs; Just like Shidou, he wants to claim everything in his current life and not return to when he had nothing when he was a child. In A Clockwork Orange, Alexander who in the beginning of the movie has been committing heinous crimes with no one to stop him, is captured and put through inhumane experiments in order to rehabilitate him. His entire freedom is taken away from him and for the next hour, we see him go through immense suffering and torture by those who he had wronged to the point he attempts to commit suicide through jumping off a window. In the end, it doesn't seem like his mindset has changed at all. It makes us question whether or not letting someone be free to do anything they want is the better option even if it hurts others, rather than attempt to isolate them in order to transform them into a better human being.

I would like to talk a little about his favourite artist. For a bit of context, hide is popular for being an icon of rebellion against Japan's conformist society, and one of his songs PINK SPIDER, is listed as Shidou's favourite song according to the official Blue Lock Egoist Bible. I've seen a lot of interpretations of what the song truly means, but the main story is that it's about a spider trapped within and kills anything near it. Because it wishes to free itself away, it steals a butterfly's wings. It attempts to fly, and fails, and tries again. Whether or not the spider did actually succeeded in flying away is unknown to us. But, that's not all!

Around the chapter where Shidou scores a goal, the commenter calls it a 'rocket diving header'. This can lead to one of hide's other songs in the same album as PINK SPIDER, rocket dive; a song with the similar approach of freedom but with different tones. Compared to PINK SPIDER, rocket dive has a more cheerful approach. In the end of the song, the star mentioned in rocket dive successfully flies away and appears as a new shooting star in the sky.

Which brings me to point out something: Shidou Ryusei's birthday is on Tanabata, a type of Japanese celebration called the Star Festival which is celebrated on the seventh day of the seventh month.

His name, Ryusei, is also a homophone for shooting star in Japanese.

Shidou, born as a star on the day where two lover stars meet, yet when he was born, he was not allowed to fly and join the others in the sky.

But he overcame everything, achieved that dream of having the freedom to do whatever he wants. And even though he went through all that pain, all that abuse, and most likely had to learn how to escape by himself through football before Blue Lock, he made it come true, like a spell.

And eventually, he learnt how to fly, and let the world knew who he was.

[captain-mj]

Wrote this at a laundromat so I hope you guys like it

Ghost had just moved to Scotland to get away from everything. His family's murders stayed a constant thought in his mind, but more than that, he didn't want anyone still loyal to Roba to find him. After wiping them off the map, he decided to do something he never thought possible.

Chose himself.

So he made his way to Scotland where no one would know Simon Riley and he bought a house and lived next to a small town so he could go over and get whatever supplies he needed before coming to hide again.

That's where he met him.

A local man who apparently was involved in the church and was in general a great person.. Most people referred to him as Soap, which Ghost thought was a very strange name, but he had also heard MacTavish which seemed more realistic.

The man saw Ghost, probably decided he was emotionally vulnerable, and decided to skulk around him. He asked, begged, pleading for Ghost to join his congregation.

Ghost turned him down each time, though he did love to see a pretty man beg. Once, he lifted lifted his mask, let him see the Glasgow smile cut into his cheeks. He hoped that Soap would assume gang member or miscreant and leave him alone, but it seemed to spur him on.

Soap MacTavish, savior of big buff men. Patron saint of being annoying.

Ghost started... watching him. The way he moved. His smile, just a little too wide with teeth a little too sharp.

He was... handsome. Seemingly kind. But Ghost was like a stray. He didn't trust affection and he wanted to keep it that way. No matter how honeyed Soap made his words or how kind the scraps he offered. Something about the man was unsettling.

Soap simply knocked on his door one day at dusk. Ghost only answered when he had his mask on. He had some kind of food in containers. "Hey! Several people I know made me these and gifted them to me, but I don't think I'll be able to eat all they gave me. Thought you might appreciate them. I know I'd be homesick, in such a new area."

Ghost stared at him, hands itching. "How did you know where I lived?"

"i knew the people who lived here before. Laid them to rest myself. Saw their last rites and all that. No other empty house around for miles."

"Other people know...?"

"Doubt it. Most don't think of you too much." Soap sniffed, looking around. "I assumed that's what you'd prefer."

"It is. Thanks."

Soap smiled. "I'll keep it between us." He kept standing there. Just waiting.

"I'm not going to invite you inside."

Immediately, those soft lips turned into a pouty frown. "At least take the desserts. I really do have no use for them."

Ghost didn't want to disappoint him for some reason, so he awkwardly took the food. "Okay. Address between us right?"

"Of course. With God as my witness." Soap grinned and left.

If Ghost would've thought about it, he'd made him promise to never come back as well. But he did not do that.

He went into his kitchen and opened the container.

Cranachan. Ghost had heard of it. The King of Scottish Desserts.

He grabbed a spoon and brought a bite to his mouth slowly. There was a thick cream with oats and raspberries. When he put a bite in his mouth, he could taste the honey and whiskey.

It was so good.

Ghost dug in on his couch. He was pretty sure this was supposed to be something he'd eat off for a few days, but he devoured all of it in one sitting. There was more of the raspberries sauce and Ghost found himself licking it from his fingers. A warmth settled in his chest from it.

Maybe Soap wasn't terrible.

Ghost got ready to start his routine of checking all of the windows and doors, but his couch suddenly felt so comfy. He felt his eyes start to close, the warmth spreading more.

For the first time since being a kid, Ghost slept all the way through the night with no nightmares.

Ghost cleaned up from the night before, feeling comfy. He noticed one of his windows was unlocked and chided himself for being so forgetful. After two sweeps of the house, he was sure no one was in his house and nothing was missing.

The dishes sat on the counter, suddenly suspicious. The idea of there being something in it was preposterous.

Ghost cleaned the dishes. "He's a fucking poster boy for good. You're being paranoid."

As time went on, he noticed things. Always on his porch or right outside. Tapping or animal noises or sometimes visions of someone right outside. The wonderful night of sleep was the last time he slept for a while.

Soap showed up again. A cross necklace Ghost couldn't remember seeing was around his neck. He looked apologetic as he had more of the delicious treat. "Sorry. It's raspberry season so everyone is making it and... well... I don't really have much of a sweet tooth."

Ghost looked at him coldly. "And you're bringing it to me? No orphans to give it to? Children to target?"

It was the first time Soap had looked upset at him. Ghost was a military man. He dealt with that constantly back in his troop. But for some reason, Soap's unhappiness got under his skin.

"No, Ghost. I just... thought you might be feeling lonely. Ya probably think I'm naive. Small town guy, always trying to talk to you..." He looked embarrassed. "Never met someone from Manchester. And before you ask, I figured it out by your accent."

Ghost looked at him for a few minutes before looking away to pretend he wasn't affected by him. "I don't."

"Gotcha... I can just... take the food."

"No. I'll still take that." Ghost quickly grabbed the home made food, noticing Soap's flash of a smile. He bit his lip as he cradled the food. "Look, I'm not a good guy. Definitely not someone you need around you."

Soap looked at him sadly. "Even outside of my faith, I still think all people deserve someone. I just... want to try to make you feel less lonely."

Ghost sighed. "Alright. Come in."

Soap got so excited. He carefully walked inside and glanced around, moving his weight back and forth between each foot.

Ghost sat on the chair he had. "Haven't exactly bought much furniture. But you're allowed to get comfy."

Soap grabbed the couch and smiled brightly. There was something about him. He looked at him and his eyes... had a shimmer to it.

Ghost paused, holding the bowl.

"Are you going to put it away? Or eat it right now?" Soap asked conversationally. He batted his eyelashes.

Ghost gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "Gonna put it away for now."

"I see. Have you been sleeping well? This place seems... so isolated. I don't think I could ever quite get a good sleep."

Ghost couldn't think of a good answer besides the truth. "Sleep has never came easy to me."

Soap frowned, batting his eyelashes at him. "I'm sorry. I hope it gets easier for you." He seemed so genuine. So sweet.

Ghost shrugged. "Thank you..."

They started to slip into rather easy banter, but he found his eyes getting heavier.

Soap got up and picked his way over. For a moment, Ghost was afraid. He almost lashed out, afraid. But he didn't touch him. He leaned in, eyes glowing against the backdrop of everything around them. "Sleep well, Ghost."

Ghost fell asleep on his chair. Soap locked the door on the way out but he didn't lock the windows.

Ghost found Tommy's photo album and went through them. He looked at the various photos of him and his family and he found himself missing them again. They looked so cute. So perfect. He left them on his coffee table, messy and covering every inch.

Joseph looked up at him, bright smiling face.

Simon was holding him. Blond curls that he spent too much time keeping bleached. No scarring.

He felt like he was going crazy as things... moved around his house. Things moved right out of the corner of his eyes. So he started preparing.

Guns were tucked into every hiding place he could. Knives even more so. He started to work out again for the first time in a few weeks. Luckily he hadn't lost too much of his physique.

Ghost eventually found himself eating the cranachan. He slept well. It was unsettling.

Right before dawn, Soap arrived at his house. The clouds were churning together but there was still some sunlight streaming through. "I brought coffee. Are you a coffee person?"

Ghost wasn't usually, but rather than deal with Soap's sad look again, he took the drink. He sipped it and found himself pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Soap smiled. "Have any plans?"

"Gonna make breakfast... wanna join?" Why did he say that??

Soap smiled and quickly walked in. "I'd love to."

Ghost started to cook. He had been trying to learn more cooking lately so hopefully it wasn't too bad.

Soap looked thankful when he set it down and started to eat. They did so in basically silence. The cross necklace kept catching the light so he kept staring at it. When he lifted his gaze to look at his eyes, they made direct eye contact.

Soap's eyes. They were so dark. Like a shark.

Ghost felt for the gun under his side table. He tried to keep up conversation.

"Don't grab that gun, Simon."

Ghost paused what he was doing, watching the cross necklace sway where it sat. "What?"

Soap sighed. "Don't be like that. The gun your hand is on. Don't grab it." His nails clicked against the table. Too long. Too alarming. "Be a good boy, Simon."

Ghost stared at him, debating what could be done here.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you?"

"Not a danger to you." Soap answers a little pedantically. "I promise." His canines. They were long and curved.

Ghost glanced at the coffee. "You were drugging me."

Soap hummed. "No. More of a... side effect of my presence. You feeling anything right now?"

Ghost could feel something tugging at the edge of his consciousness but nothing too severe. "What do you want?"

Soap swallowed. "I'm hungry. Starving."

"You saw me up here. Being vulnerable. And decided you could fuc-"

"No. Not quite. I... I know you could keep a secret."

Ghost blinked, realizing the situation. "You're... asking."

Soap looked pained. "I am. A... deal. I keep everyone away. Tell them whatever I need so they leave you alone and I get to..." His eyes trailed to Ghost's throat.

"How bad is the feeding?"

"Not bad! I take about as much blood as a blood donation. Easy peasy. I'll even bring you food for recovery just please..."

Ghost undid the top button of his shirt and Soap looked ready to wiggle out of his seat. The poor man was salivating.

Why was he doing this?

it was stupid.

Idiotic.

Self-sacrificing.

The mask hit the table.

"Go for it."

Soap leapt over the table and sat in his lap. Teeth sank into his throat as he held him, holding him tight. They pressed together and Ghost could feel the unsettling chill that came from Soap.

He grabbed the table, almost white knuckling it.

Pain radiated from where he was being stabbed into and he felt himself go lightheaded. Soap's ass was pressed firmly to his lap though and it felt...

pleasurable.

Slowly he sank into it, feeling Soap take his fill.

His pretty boy thanked him, lips bright red from blood. "Thank you. Thank you. You're perfect. My angel from heaven."

Their lips touched and Ghost groaned softly.

Soap panted in his ear. "I'll be good. Promise. Take care of you." His claws sank into Ghost who was wondering how bad the situation he landed himself was.

[shroomaz]

First Encounters with the Disaster Twins

A/N: I wanted to try something new- by NO MEANS am I a writer but I'm trying to tap into the turtle-ness that are these brothers. SO I thought why not for a start do a READER first encounter? I rushed Donnie's story a bit but that's because I had to do some things today...enjoy!

💜DONNIE - (ROOFTOP...at night...half rescue-) 

You were on top of the roof admiring the scenery, frustrated at the troubles of the day. It wasn't your fault that you had the computer stolen, Kendra and her purple dragons managed to get their grubby hands on it, and then you were blamed for losing it.

You swore that you would get it one way or another, however, you never thought of a plan for it...

You were drowning in the scene so much that you had no awareness to what was going on...in other words, you were called "too emotional" for your own good, not that it was your fault. Just the overall scenery and quietness made everything much more vibrant...until you heard the sound of a crash. You turned your head and looked over to where the sound had come from; down in the alley.

Rushing; you had gone to see what it was.

Then it all came to you, there they were - the Purple Dragons.

You scowled at the very look on Kendra's smug little face.

Kendra was about to speak before getting bumped on the head with what seemed to be a metal part....wow. Is she okay??? It seems like her henchmen were thinking the same thing.

Whilst they were dragging her away hoping that she was at least ALIVE, you look up to see something floating around the buildings unevenly. Quickly grabbing the metal piece that fell, you rush your way in the direction the figure went.

Not even caring about the dragons that would soon follow you.

Climbing your way up the building's stairs, you lay your eyes upon a turtle with a purple shell and purple bandana. Looking frustrated and seemingly fixated on something. "All that I told Nardo to do- was leave the controls alone and nothing would happen. And what does he do? Touch. My. Things..." his eye twitches from the thought...and hissing too. "And great...I'm missing something! Round of applause anyone? Anyone?...Ah great now I'm talking to myself. I'm becoming Raph." He visibly shivered at the thought as he gave himself a slight face palm.

You couldn't help but try to make your way out of the situation, in shock that a turtle is even capable of moving like that, that tall and that smart and can TALK???? Its like something from a Jupiter Jim movie.

You took a step back but you missed your footing and tripped backwards.

"GAHHH---!!" You cried in terror as you- ya know- nearly fell to your death at 115 ft. But your body was grabbed by four claws that dragged you up.

Unknowingly, you were squirming to get out.

"Fear not dear fellow human, for I am but your most excellent SAVIOR!" he gloats to himself. "Against my tech, you are unable to break free from my heroic grasp from. Yours truly: Othello Von Ryan!" He gloats again, seems like he's trying to show how smart he is.

"....Othello Von Ryan?" you looked up at him confused. "Is that your name-"

"I-" he opened his eyes and raised his eyebrow with his arms slightly crossed. "Do you have a problem with that?" he questioned you.

".....No?" You squeaked out to him.

The Turtle seemed to bring his attention over to the piece that you had in your hand. His eyes glimmering. He looked so happy! So content in passion.

"Hey...you found the piece! That's what I'm looking for!" he exclaimed.

His claws put you down so that you could walk towards him and give him the piece. "Was this yours?" You asked handing him the metal part.

"More or less... it's for something very precious of mine.-" He looks He takes the piece before you both get surprised by the Purple Dragons. Kendra seemed to hiss when she saw the turtle.

"Get them Jas!" she had her "brother" try to take care of the situation with his invention that seemed to be in the form of a spider. "Get Donnie this time! Make yourself of use!" I mean- she's angry cause she got hit on the head with a metal part... it's understandable.

Suddenly you feel a hand wrap around your waist along with the turtle saying. "Hang on!!" You grip on without thinking before the turtle's purple shell grows to drone-like wings and starts hovering to get the two of you away from the situation.

"Donnie huh...?" you thought to yourself looking up at the softshell. 

🩵LEO - (IT WAS A RESCUE...it was by accident-)

You were walking back home from work.

It wasn't most ideal but your car had been in an accident so you had no way of transportation...and crime was spiking, so you had already made up your mind to not take a cab. However, this was fine, you made sure to stay on the right shortcut home and that there was a light where you went...and above all, you had your BEATING STICK! +lucky charm.

(insert sparkling image of a dinky self-defense weapon here...along with the charm of your choice.)

What could go wrong?

Is what you said to yourself....but it was too late--

Suddenly; a glowing blue light appeared from above. Looking up to see what it was- your fight or flight response immediately made you leap across the street when a mutant hippo came crashing down with a mutant turtle following behind.

"HOHOO--- BOYY!" the turtle in blue started to exclaim as he came crashing down into the pavement on the Hippo.

"Blasted! You teleported me away from the 'Cards of Devant'! Curse you turtle! What is it that I possibly have to do to get you turtles off my hide." The hippo cursed at the red-eared slider in an accent, floating rings surrounding him.

"You're telling me...I could be catching my beauty-zs right now, but you have to try to get your tricky fingers on those magical cards-!"

The turtle was using his odachi to create more portals to deflect the spinning rings coming at him; you were too stunned to speak- but you tried your best to sneak away until you heard a snort from the hippo mutant. You slowly made eye contact...and then awkwardly smiled.

The hippo seemed to give a grin.

"Eh? Whatcha looking at-- ohhhh boy..." the turtle looked in your direction too. How could he have not seen you before- he didn't know but all he could do was try to play cool.

It was only then that the turtle knew what to do. He couldn't stay longer- but he couldn't leave you there either. He left his brothers behind where the cards were, so he knew they would be safe...I suppose it's time to do what any hero would do.

He leaped at you whilst you grabbed your BEATING STICK as a way of self-defense. Not knowing what was happening-

The hippo pounced, but you managed to sledge him straight in the head with your BEATING STICK losing it in the process; with that being said the Hippo missed and the turtle fell through the portal with you in one of his arms.

"Adios! Hippos!" the turtle called with a laugh following after. The hippo seemed outraged before the portal closed...then it was quiet.

You both fell on a floor that seemed to be the top of a roof; an apartment complex. You groaned...and then he groaned. It seemed like he didn't think that he could hit back first onto a hard floor. However...you both did.

Rubbing the back of his head and looking over to make sure you were okay, he seemed to lose his face-man grin that turned into a look of worry.

"Are you okay?" the blue turtle helped you up.

"I'm okay...what are you...?" you rubbed your eyes and looked upon the features of the slider turtle. You were frazzled...he could understand, it is not every day you meet a sentient turtle.

He moved with ease.

The turtle seemed in thought before laughing slightly and rubbing the back of his head.

"I think a better question would be what is your name..." He puts his odachi back behind him before lifting your lucky charm in the other.

"You can call me Leo." he smiled at you, which was strangely calming.

"....Y/N."

(END)

[xsolaresx]

daryl dixon.: love goes through the fire

pairings: daryl dixon x fem! reader wife!

summary: after being kidnapped and tortured by Negan, the reader does everything she can to make Daryl feel better.

warnings: angst! sad! graphic description of Glenn and Abraham's death! mention of torture! only depression from here on!

word count: 3,9k

Author @xsolaresx  

notes: English is not my first language, so there may be some grammatical errors.

The noise still bothered me every night. Whenever my eyes closed, even for just a second, the sound of the bat repeatedly hitting Abraham's skull and then Glenn's tormented me. 

One hit after another, and at the end Negan's diabolical laughter. 

I could still feel Glenn's blood dripping down to my knees, I was so close to him that after it was over I was covered in his blood and the scraps of skin that flew off. No matter how many baths I forced myself to take, that sticky feeling of fresh blood never left my skin. And sometimes I still found a patch of my skin with a crimson tinge impregnated in it. 

My dark circles told anyone who saw me that I hadn't slept for days. I kept reliving the moment like an endless loop in my head. I still remember how that day began, that week, that month, how the whole situation ended the way it did. 

Hilltop had enemies, and Alexandria needed food. One thing led to another. 

First the massacre at the outpost, then the kidnapping of Carol and Maggie. Everyone had questions about whether it was the right thing to do, whether killing so many people was worth it, whether it was worth seeing another sunrise under so much blood. 

But Carol felt more, the deaths she had caused were beyond counting on her hands. We all kill to survive, but she was molded in this world, she wasn't raised with Rick's hero instinct, or the strength that the trauma and torture that Daryl suffered at the hands of his father and brother did to him. It was too much for her, she couldn't look us in the eye anymore, so she ran away from everything and everyone. 

There was no concrete reason for so many deaths, they were evil, weren't they? They killed people, and they die at the hands of our people. We did what had to be done. We saved a community from the so-called Saviors, but it couldn't have been that easy, there were more of them, there always would be. 

Daryl had to see it first hand. Denise died in front of him by her crossbow. It made him furious, we saved Dwight in the burning bush, helped him and his wife only for him to do something terrible in the end. Daryl had shown them a way, but they couldn't believe that was salvation.

He had to go back there, he had to finish what he didn't finish. He thought it was his fault that Tara no longer had a girlfriend. If only I could have stopped him before...

Everything happened so fast, Maggie got sick, we had to get her to Hilltop. I thought I'd meet Daryl at night, in our room, I'd arrive and he'd be waiting for me, he'd apologize for leaving unannounced, we'd talk and make things right, and then we'd sleep together and have a new day. 

But that day never came. 

They surrounded us on the road, left us with no way out and took us exactly where they wanted us. The frightening whistles were the prelude to something much worse to come. After that I only remember seeing Daryl shot and bleeding being dragged to the wheel, Abraham offering himself up and dying by the bat. 

Little by little I saw the terror forming in Rick's eyes. In all the years I've been with him leading this group, this was the first time I'd seen the elder Grimes lost, with no way out and praying that this madman wouldn't take someone else from our family. 

But Dixon got angry, he tried to get to Negan. And the next thing I knew, the bat with the barbed wire was next to my face. Daryl screamed so much, screamed, cried. 

"It's all right, my love. I love you, it wasn't your fault” I could only look at him, knowing that he would be the last thing I saw before I left calmed me down. 

Negan started smiling and swinging his baseball bat between the two of us. "What the fuck! Let's see what we've got here, guys."  

“P-please... no-no” 

“You'd better shut the fuck up, Rick! Or your dear son's next.” Negan shouted when Grimes tried to intervene, he knew that if I died Daryl would never be the same. "So you're a couple? Dwight's best friend has a wife? hohoho this just gets more interesting!"

“If you lay a finger on her I'll kill you, you bastard!” Daryl wasn't the type to take a beating quietly, even though he was losing blood and had a gun to his head he was going to try and fight back.

“Ah, but I'll remember that very well, dear Daryl... You know what... I'm tired of all this, why don't we just get it over with, huh?” The next thing I saw was blood gushing everywhere. One second I had Glenn, my best friend, the person who had saved me in so many ways by my side, and the next I had a lifeless body. 

Daryl was taken away that night, as a guarantee that we would stay on the line. And only God knows what happened to him during those days.

I couldn't bear to see him so bruised and dirty the first time the Saviors came to Alexandria. That wasn't my Daryl anymore, he looked so fragile, wounded, defeated. He was no longer the survivor who could take it all.

“No! He's my servant now, you don't talk to him, you don't look at him, and I don't make you cut off any part of his body.” Negan shouted when Rick tried to talk to Dixon. “And that goes for everyone, even his wife, understand?” I couldn't walk away, I needed to hug Daryl, tell him that everything was going to be okay and that I was there, but I couldn't risk someone else in our family, so I just turned and walked to our house, mine and Daryl's, unable to hold back the tears any longer. The last thing I heard was Negan's shrill laughter. “That one knows how to take orders, Rick!”

A few days had passed since then, we hadn't heard from Daryl, Maggie was hiding in Hilltop, which was under threat from the Saviors. Rick went out every day in search of supplies for the Saviors, and I... couldn't leave the house. I couldn't leave the room, the bed where I could still smell Daryl.

Frantic knocks started at my door, and when I opened it, I saw Gabriel. "He's back, Y/N. He hasn't done anything yet, but he's back with Carl, they're at Rick's now and he's not back from his run with Aaron yet. I-I don't, we don't know what to do, Judith is there with them and..."

"Gabriel, breathe. It's okay.” I held the priest by the shoulders, trying to calm him down. Everyone was lost, scared. “Tell everyone to stay in their homes, they mustn't have come for anything else, so don't provoke them, okay?” 

“But Judith... I... I promised Rick I'd look after her...” 

“I'll go, okay?” I grabbed my sweater and left the house in the direction of Rick's. If Carl is back with Negan, it means that the boy went after him planning some revenge. He's so young, but he harbors so much anger, he's lost so much to this world. 

“Hold it right there, cutie,” one of Negan's henchmen stopped me on the front steps of the house. 

“I want to talk to him.”

“You can let her through, let's hear what the wife has to say” I stared at the man until he got out of my way. I was angry, the way he called me 'wife' only reminded me that every day Daryl was in prison, being tortured by him. “Hello, my dear, to what do I owe your presence in my humble abode?” Negan was sitting on the balcony with Judith on his lap asleep, Carl was next to him without the bandage on his eye with a sad and angry expression. I completely ignored the killer and turned to the boy.

“Are you all right, Carl?”

“Yeah. I'm fine, he didn't do anything,” he replied, lowering his head. I turned to Negan, who didn't look the least bit happy at being ignored. 

“I want to see him.”

“You're going to have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

"I want to see my husband, see if he's alive. You can search me, I don't have any weapons after you took them all. Take me with you to him." A devilish smile appeared on his face. 

“You know, I can see that you don't look so good after I took your man, but I don't know if I was very clear when I said that he's now my servant, maybe you won't like what you see, your husband isn't the most sociable.”

"I know he's not, but I've seen worse. I need to see him alive, it's okay if he's dirty." 

"Ah girl, you're a tough nut to crack. But I understand, I can't go too many days without seeing my wives, Carl here has met some of them and he can tell you how hot they are! Tell you what, I'll talk to Rick, we'll settle up and if I'm still in a good mood you can come with me." 

“Thanks”

“Oh how I like that word, thank you.” Then Spencer arrived, started his plan to take Rick out and ended up dying. Eugene was going to be taken away for making the bullet. 

“You're gonna take me, right?” I shouted as Negan neared the gate, about to leave. 

"Y/N... what? No." Rick tried to approach but I moved away, I needed to see Daryl.

“I almost forgot the wife, search her, you're coming with me in the truck”

I kept quiet the whole way, blindfolded, the truck had three seats, the driver was some kind of savior who kept quiet and Negan made me stay in the middle of them in case I decided to jump out during the journey. 

“I told them to give your husband a bath, you know, to make him look more presentable, but no intimate visits, I don't want him to get too comfortable with all this” Negan said when we stopped in front of a room. “I also took him out of his cell, that's no place for a lady like you, my love”. When the door opened I saw Daryl in the corner of the room, a little cleaner, but cowering in the dark with an angry look on his face, but when he saw me he turned away from the wall in anguish. Dwight was in the other corner, standing guard. “I thought you guys would be more comfortable with an acquaintance on guard.”

“Not the best, but thanks,” I said between my teeth, looking at Dwight, who couldn't take his eyes off Daryl.

"What the fuck, baby! If you thank me one more time I won't be able to let you go, you've become my favorite." Then he left, closing the door. I ran over to Dixon, throwing myself into his arms, but he didn't return the hug, still focused on the other man in the room. 

"No, no, please, look at me, darling. Don't focus on him, focus on me, please.” I ran my hands over his face and turned him towards me, tears starting to well up in my eyes when I saw the bandage on his shoulder where he had been shot. “I missed you so much, are you okay?”

“I don't think he's going to say much, he probably doesn't even remember how he does it, does he Daryl?” 

"Shut the fuck up Dwight! If you don't I'll come over there and smash your face in” I turned to him who just laughed weakly and left the room. 

“You have to get out of here, you can't stay, I can't protect you... them... them” his voice was broken, as if he hadn't spoken for days. 

“Shiii, it's okay, I just came to see you, he's taking me back, we made a deal... What did they do to you, darling?”

“It was my fault”

"What? No, it wasn't, everything's fine at home, everyone's fine” He pulled my hand away from his face, moving away from me. 

“It was my fault, Glenn, then Maggie, she died because of me” 

“My goodness, no” I moved closer to him so that no one would hear. "Maggie's fine, the baby's fine, we did it so he wouldn't get suspicious. Everyone's fine” Daryl pulled me into a long-suffering kiss and began to cry, grabbing me in a hug, I sat on the floor with him still clinging to me. Dixon looked so broken, he wasn't the same strong guy who did everything for Rick. We stayed like that for a few hours, I ran my fingers through his hair to calm him down, he didn't sleep, he was on the lookout for any threat, but he closed his eyes, enjoying the affection. Until our bubble burst when someone opened the door. Daryl got up at a speed I didn't think he could manage, weakened like that, and promptly stood in front of me, protecting me from whoever came in. 

"Visiting hours are over, honey. I hope you didn't take your clothes off after Dwight left." Negan entered the room with a smug smile, covering his eyes with his bat. 

“I'm very well dressed, much to your displeasure,” I said, getting up and standing next to Daryl, who promptly grabbed my hand. "I have to get back, but nobody's forgotten you here, okay? We'll get you out of this, sweetheart."

“I wouldn't be so sure, but now Laura will take you back, and I hope your puppy behaves better after the visit.” Negan left and a blonde woman came in, waving us out.

I hugged Daryl one last time, kissing his forehead and left the room. 

The days passed more melancholy and with preparations for the war against the Saviors approaching. Rick got help from the people at the Dump. We were on our way to Hilltop to talk to Maggie and get her support. 

But when the gates opened, my vision blurred with tears... Daryl was there, a little shy, but waiting for us halfway. 

I threw my backpack on the floor and ran as fast as I could to him, his arms already open waiting for me, and he kissed me with such urgency that I lost my breath. We stayed like that for a few minutes, crying and hugging, until Rick approached us in silence, his smile unmistakable. 

I broke away from Dixon, making room for Rick and the others to hug him. Joyful laughter with tears coming out of me. 

_______________________________

“We can't try anything without Hilltop's weapons, we have a lot of personnel, but it's still too little, and we're vulnerable that way.” Maggie said after we left Gregory's room, the asshole would rather spend his whole life under threat than fight back. 

“She's right, but maybe I know someone who'd be interested in helping... they call themselves The Kingdom.” Jesus intervenes, from the corner of the room, where we're hugging, Daryl squeezes my hand with an air of hope and I can't help but smile at him with confidence too.

“Do you think they'd be allies in the war?” Rick asks, shifting in his seat. The situation isn't the best, I realize that now. I was so numb from missing Daryl that I didn't focus on protecting the community, and Rick had to handle it alone. 

“They also suffer threats from the Saviors, but the community doesn't know about it, only the leader and people they trust.” 

“He doesn't want to create panic or riots for no reason,” I say and everyone agrees. “So, what are we waiting for?” With a nod from Rick, everyone leaves the mansion and heads for their cars. The whole time Daryl didn't let go of my hand and I didn't make a point of complaining, he wasn't one to show much affection in the midst of so many people, but after everything that happened to him, I understand. 

The Kingdom was very large, with many warriors training and many families, protected and happy. I squeeze Dixon's hand tighter when I see a couple with a newborn baby surrounded by elderly women. He stares at the couple and lowers his head.

When we enter the auditorium, the first thing that catches our eye is the huge tigress sitting next to a guy on a kind of throne. Rick shies away from approaching her, but they talk normally. Until Morgan appears, and Daryl asks me quietly where Carol is. “It's a delicate subject, but if Morgan's here she must be all right, you know she's tough.” He nods, even though his curiosity isn't quenched, he knows it's not time.

The King didn't accept our proposal, but gave Daryl the freedom to take refuge in the Kingdom for as long as he needed. 

“We need to go Y/N, they can go into Alexandria after Daryl.” Rick appeared next to us as I was saying goodbye to Dixon, I nodded and he walked away. 

“It's temporary, when this is over you're not leaving my side anymore, okay?” I held Daryl's cheeks and he bowed his head sadly. 

“I want to go with you, I want to help put an end to this”

"You'll help, my love. Staying here, safe. Maybe you can convince the King, we need him."

“You know I'm not that diplomatic”

“Let's look at this situation as an opportunity, what do you think?” I smile to break the mood, Daryl gives a sad smile. “I'll never leave you, my love” I say more seriously so that he feels the truth, these days away from him were the worst and I don't want it to happen again.

_______________________________

“Look, look, look, Rick Grimes has come to greet me on my doorstep!” Negan and his henchmen arrived shortly after we got back from the Kingdom, someone up there is surely on our side. "I love seeing your abandoned dog face, Rick, but today my business is with your little friend's wife. Why don't you bring her to me?" 

Rick nods begrudgingly, turns and starts walking towards the main house where we were all gathered, waiting for some sign of Grimes. 

“He wants to talk to you.” Rick approaches and says quietly. “Be careful, he's unpredictable.” 

"That's all right, Rick. I'll put him in his place, I've had enough of this.” I walk away quickly, anger overflowing just knowing that because of him my Daryl is shaken. 

“Y/N, no, wait.” Rick tries to stop me, but it's too late, I'm striding hard towards Negan. 

“I hear you want to talk to me.” That maniac's smile only gets wider when he sees me.   

"Oh, hello, darling. How are you? Miss your husband?" 

“You've got to be kidding... of course I miss him, if you don't remember you took him away from me and I'm very possessive of what's mine,” I say through my teeth. If he thinks I'm going to be compassionate and keep my mouth shut, he's mistaken.

"Wow, that's what I like about you, darling. You're tough as nails,” he says with a mischievous laugh. "The problem is that your husband was very moved by your visit, you know? And he must have thought it was a loophole for an escape." 

“Wait, what?” I say exasperated, I've always loved acting. “You mean you've lost my husband?” 

“I thought you could help me find him.” 

“You're unbelievable...” I whisper indignantly. “If you think he's here you can look, have your goons search every house, every manhole or cupboard in this place.”

“You're always a refreshment to me, darling, you always know what I want.” I roll my eyes as he sends his men to search Alexandria. 

As expected, they find nothing and leave, promising to return next week to collect supplies. 

“I have to go, Rick,” I warn Grimes. To avoid the risk of them following me, I waited a few hours after they left, and night came. I need to see Daryl, he won't stay another night thinking we've abandoned him. He gets up from the rocking chair on the porch of his house with Judith on his lap and approaches.

“Okay, but be careful, make sure no one's following you.” Rick hugs me in his fatherly way. We were always close like brothers, after I lost everything Rick was there as a leader for everyone. “And send him a hug, tell him we miss him.” 

“I will.” I say goodbye to him and kiss the head of a sleepy Judith, who gives me a smile. I grab a car and head out through the cellars of Alexandria, towards the Kingdom, towards Daryl.

_______________________________

“She's magnificent” Daryl was standing next to Shiva's cage when I arrived at the Kingdom. Quiet and shrunken, just stroking the snout of the tigress who melted at his touch.

“She is.” he confirms with a frown. I moved closer until I could see tears forming in his eyes. I quickly bent down, sat next to him and hugged him tightly, which he reciprocated. 

"It's all right now, my love. I'm here, you're not going to stay away from me any longer.” I tried to calm his crying, which was only getting more intense. I've never seen Daryl so broken, he seemed to be accumulating all the suffering, the pain, waiting to fall apart on me. He would never do that to anyone else. 

“I got scared.” Daryl says after he calms down. “I was afraid of losing you too, losing our family.” 

“You're not going to lose me, ever.” 

“But what if it does?” Daryl lifts his head with a more serious look. "When they tortured me, all I could think about was you, that you'd be alone out here, unprotected. They could do anything to you to make me accept the fact that I was nothing in that place. And I felt like nothing."

“No, no, no.” I pull Daryl's face so that he pays close attention to me. “You're not going to lose me, you know why? Because your wife is strong, she'll go through hell to pull you out of the fire and when I can't do it anymore I'll have our whole family helping me, because I love you, Daryl, we love you. That's what love does, it turns us into fighters, people who would do anything for the one they love. I love you, Daryl.” Tears flowed non-stop from my eyes and Daryl's.

“I love you, Y/N” His lips met mine fervently, it was a needy kiss, as if he had been thirsty for days and I was his oasis in the desert. I gave myself completely to him, wanting more and more all the time. 

We were too wrapped up in our bubble, completely forgetting that Shiva was still in the cage next door, and an imposing roar from her broke us out of this bubble of lust. 

“I don't think she likes not being the center of attention,” we laughed when we noticed the tigress's angry face at being left out. 

“She'll have to accept it, because now my only attention is on my wife.” 

[thecameronchronicles]

Savior

TW: abusive relationship. Cheating. Mentions of death/violence/homicide/blood. Language. Smut. 

SUMMARY: Being neighbors with Trevor came with a specific benefit as he always kept a close eye on you...

WORD COUNT: 3500

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

Savior

Trevor's POV

How in the fuck did I convince myself to come to this? Her boyfriend's party. But one look at her in a dress he didn't deserve to see let alone peel off reminded me why. Not only for the deafening need to know just how my hands felt beneath the fabric, but also for the way I wanted each and every one of her smiles to be because of me. And for anyone responsible for her tears, may God have mercy on them...

"Trevor!" She welcomed me with an embrace that allowed every inch of her body to be felt in the thin fabric that separated. God, this woman could wear only sweats and a messy bun as she did the first day I saw her and I was still needing to adjust the swell in my seam. 

"Thank you so much for coming!" She gripped tightly into my forearms. For a moment, it seemed as if I had been her reason for gravity. As if my presence soothed her somehow. Certainly an assumption as I was rarely seen as anything more than an inconvenience. And yet ever since she moved in six months ago, she always left me feeling this way. 

Important. Worthy. So fucking needed that it was enough to make you dizzy. And if this devotion wasn't enough, the way she made it a point to make me comfortable had been that tipping point that made her different. That made any girl comparable to her and yet none would hold a candle. All because one of those simple looks set me on fire that paled to even the most skilled of women I attempted to use to forget her. 

That was my plague. She was unforgettable. And I was the poor son of a bitch in love with someone else's girlfriend...

"Yeah, man, thanks for coming." It took everything I had not to curl a lip or even my hands to a fist. This possessive and arrogant asshole has a goddess at his fingers and yet his eyes scanned every feminine soul in attendance as if she was nothing. And she noticed. 

The light that fought to remain behind her eyes remained at war against his presence. Never a kind word that didn't leave her embarrassed in the end. Details of their sex life enough to speak well of her as everything else was an apparent service that made him a victim or a martyr. And why she allowed it continued to astound me. Surely she knew she deserved better. Literally anyone. Wishful thinking made me hope it could one day have been me. 

"Keep an eye on her would you? Gotta go do some rounds-" He abandoned her when he should have wished to show her off. It was enough to be thankful of his absence but regretful it brought her such pain. 

"Can I show you something?" I asked as she illuminated to the offer. 

The second we made our way outside to the balcony, she seemed to take a clear reprieve. I loved that it was possible in my presence. But I loathed knowing she would have to return to him eventually. But not now. And that's what mattered. It wasn't now. 

"I always loved the stars...he always complains it's too cold to see them..." She placed her fingers on the edge of the railing and trusted it to lean forward. My eyes drifted down her curves and to her neck. A chosen hairstyle leaving her neck accessible to view. Soft skin accented by a beauty mark in perfect placement. A true work of art I was able to adore without needing to share. 

Yet I remained as a friend as it's what she always needed. Everytime she was on the curb outside the complex in tears. Anytime she was left without a car and asked me for a ride. Each time keeping myself in check while burning for her. Just one signal that told me she wanted this and I would gladly risk his wrath for even a moment of that attention. A moment of bliss for a lifetime of hell. 

"You deserve to see them..." She only shrugged. 

"I saw this hotel...I can't remember where it is, but there are these igloos with glass ceilings you can spend the night in...and you can just stare at the stars all night. I'd sleep outside of I could..." The careless way she spoke with such raw honesty of her dreams made me want to make them real for her. No matter how stupid or impossible. But this one made me envision her wrapped in my arms, sheets draped over us just enough to be warm-

"Trevor?" 

"Yeah?"

"It means a lot that you came. You're the only one who I actually like being around here...so thank you..." She confessed, my hand moving closer to hers as my pinky judged hers just enough to gain her attention. 

"I wish it was only us..." This was the sign I needed. This was the step forward she needed to take so I knew. And I didn't care about the consequences. 

I used a hold on her wrist to pull her towards me. A gentle collision anything but humorous as I use the same ledge she trusted to set her against. Instantly, her hand came to a rest at my cheek in the reminder of how delicate she was. And yet, her tongue was the one to tease mine. 

"Trevor..." She breathed softly, a hand to my chest as she fisted to fabric. 

"I can take care of you..."

"It isn't that simple..." She confessed as I nodded. 

"Then let me help you not think..." I directed her hips harder into me, making my intentions clear before softening them. My pulse at war with her own, my cock desperate for even a small trace of her fingers, and my lips needing more. Needing all of her. 

She tried to speak, but her body betrayed her as mine orchestrated us both. My fingers held a mind of their own, remaining cautious to not frighten her with how badly I desired her, but also speaking where words couldn't describe. Every kiss telling her I wanted her. Every touch or grasp informing her I'd protect her. But she remained distant from me. 

"I want to make you feel good...I swear to God I won't stop until you do. I want to make you-" She nodded, her fingers toying with my belt as my thumbs teased the low rest of her skirt. 

He was so fucking lucky and took her for granted. She would have been unable to walk if she wore that skirt for me. But then again, I wouldn't have wanted a party. I would have been content unwrapping her in repetition. 

"Baby?" His voice echoed as she pushed me away, guilt riding over her face. 

"Please don't say anything...I'm..I'm sorry Trevor..." In six months, I managed to learn of her emotions. But this had to be a first of terror. 

After this exchange, knowing her body in my palms and the desperation her own made against my chest, I couldn't watch him use her as a trophy. Squeezing her ass when he wasn't reprimanding it. So I slipped out just prior to the cake, her eyes beckoning me to stay as even those pleading eyes wouldn't be enough. 

Returning to my apartment has never been this difficult. I struggled to enter as I turned back to face her door. Separated by only a walk, I was able to hear remnants of the party until it died down enough to hear only them. Her cadence softer but still muffled and his sloppy and intimidating to her. It was rage inducing as I paced my bedroom floor, needing her now more than ever. 

But she wasn't mine. It was simple. She chose him. Every night. Tonight. On the balcony. And it was enough to keep my ass in place. 

At least until two in the morning. 

The first rousing sound was that of broken glass and his raised tone. I slipped from my sheets and towards the wall, hearing her plead with him. It lasted a handful of times until the slamming of doors could be heard and an eventual sob. It was this sound of her sadness that sent me to their door before I could stop myself. 

Not your problem. Not your-

"Dumb fucking bitch!" 

Now it is. 

My anger came behind my fist as I pounded on the door. But as it came open, she only showed me half of her. The entire left side of her body was hidden behind the heavy door as I could see the disarray that remained. The strap loose down her shoulder and her hair clearly gripped after the perfect waves I had embraced a few hours prior. 

"Trevor..."

"Get rid of him..." He groaned behind her. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine..." Even a half mute, blind, or fully drunk man could tell she was lying. If the way she shook didn't show this, then the silent plea in her eyes had. 

"I left my phone...can I come get it?" 

"Can I...just have...I'll give it tomorrow-"

But as she tried to diffuse my presence and the tension it brought, he opened the door wide enough to observe her. Whatever works he spoke to me were moit behind the evidence over her. A busted lip. A bruised cheek. Tears escaping as she pleaded for me not to act. I had suspicions he was a dick. But I would ensure he'd never touch her again. 

"Get it through your head man, she isn't gonna fuck you, no matter how pathetic you are-'" Were his final words as I clasped his collar. He was quick to respond with a lower cut to my ribs, an unsuspecting blow that gave him only a temporary upper hand. 

"Trying to fight for her? She isn't fucking worth it! Trust me!" 

"Stop!" She pleaded, trying to get between us as he only pushed her away. 

"Go to my apartment..." I attempted to direct her but she remained as I was swung at. A last minute maneuver and his hand was smashed into the stone wall separating our living rooms. 

"Fuck!" 

"You're nothing but a low life asshole obsessed with her!"

"You don't ever touch her again!"

"Wrong. I do every night. Quite well. You MUST have heard her screaming for me...Knowing you'll never have her!" I ran to him as a bull to a crimson flag, sending him into the edge of his own sink. A set of elbows to my back made me release him before I rose like a man literally fighting for his life. Punch after punch until he was straddled flat. Nose broken enough to bleed profusely and two teeth loosened enough to spot out as evidence of my imminent victory. 

"Are you okay?" I asked her as I left him on the floor. My hands to her cheeks were accepted by her fingers wrapping around my wrists. But as I helped her in place, my forehead at hers with a silent confirmation, she opened her eyes in a split second to find him lunging after me. 

"Trevor!" The blade if a knife would nick my forearm before it was directed back within his abdomen. A pure reaction to a fight or flight response as everything chilled. 

I wasn't a man who often made the "right" decision. My methods were questionable and I was anything but honest in the means of...well most things. But I protected her. And it was enough to silence the guilt that she developed secondhand. 

"Trevor..." My name has never sounded so sour on her lips. But I understood. 

"You both...are...gonna be...sorry..." He shot blood rapidly. Whatever was struck by the blade was enough to be fatal as he became an immobile and flaxen in less than a minute. His back ceasing to rise in even the most shallow of breaths. 

He was dead. 

I killed him. 

For her. 

"What did you do?" Her eyes were wide. 

"He isn't going to hurt you anymore..." I took hold of her wrist and led her to my apartment. My mind was wild with a list of what to do. But as I thought of calling the police or cleaning up the scene, I watched her on the couch where I left her. Cleaning the blood from my hands in the kitchen sink, I moved to her. 

"I'm not going to apologize about what happened , but I am sorry you had to see it." I ran my thumb against her lip. "He deserved it..." she stood for a moment, my words rejected and my kindness left behind her steps. But as she moved to the door, she turned back to face me. 

"Do you have any idea what you've done? Who he is?! That's Roland Voight's son. Elusive millionaire...macabre and dark...questionable-"

"Guess the rotten apple doesn't fall far from the tree..." 

"You killed his son!" I moved closer to her. 

"And I'd do it again." I spoke with the attempt to be confident, but my words shook. Not in the fact it was untrue, but for the fact I hadn't understood the reality until she spoke the words back to me. But I meant it. If presented with the same circumstances, I would have done the same. 

"You...you killed him...you...you-" She was tripping over her words as I began to hollow. Not that I expected gratitude, but at least not hatred. I could have her disgusted with me even more than this. But then suddenly she was against him, knocking me off of my feet with her arms around my neck. 

"You freed me..." A weak smile broke our kids as I lifted her back towards the couch. This beautiful, battered, woman was mine. And I wasn't going to question it. Whether it as adrenaline or some kink, I didn't care. As far as I was concerned, she was mine and I was hers. 

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you..." 

"I know..." She smiled softly as she writhed against me. A dance of sorts allowed to my torso as she pulled my blood soaked shirt from my body. As it bled to my skin, she traced it for only a second before I brought her focus back to me. 

"I know I should feel guilty, but I can't...I've wanted this for so long, Trevor." I couldn't believe what she said. Like a seventh wonder presenting itself for me. Only me. And I was a greedy man. Especially when it came to her. Only her. 

"So have I..." 

"Please..." Her hand came to my pants as I stopped her hand, her plea coming from this rejection. When I remained in disbelief to her, she took it upon herself to bend over the arm of the couch. Her body presented to me in the most carnal of ways. Her panties peeking from beneath her shorts and a bra strap having fallen to her elbow. But this wasn't a one night stand. This wasn't a quick fuck to forget about her. I wanted her. I needed her. I wasn't going to rush this. 

"I want to know..." She confessed looking back at me. 

"Know what?" 

"What it's like not having to fake it..." She moved back towards me, slipping out of her clothes until only her lingerie remained, as I was at a loss to do anything but witness her. She was even more perfect than I imagined. Her curves. Her soft skin. Her. 

Fuck. 

"I thought of you. Everytime he touched me. Kissed me. I wanted it to be you-"

"Jesus Christ, you're gonna kill me..." I spoke against her neck. She hasn't been on her knees for me or touched my cock and yet it throbbed like never before. 

"Please Trevor...I can take it. However you want me...I can-"

"I want to make love to you, not fuck you..." She tensed to my words, as if they were worse than the painful ones she'd sadly become accustomed to. 

"I..."

"We don't have to..." 

"I want you..." Her arm cranes around my neck. "I've always wanted you."

"Then we're doing it my way..." My dominance was only to remind her of what she deserved. And for that, I moved into my knees for her. Her legs over my shoulders as I devoured what he always took advantage of. And fuck, she was sweet. So wet. So fucking sweet. And all fucking mine. 

Her back arched in seconds as her hands gripped for a reprieve she would never have. I didn't mean to edge her yet I wanted it to last. So I slowed. The most delicious of moans coming from such swollen lips. 

"You deserve to feel only pleasure...and I'm going to show you how to..." I set her fingers between her legs. 

"No...I want you..." 

"And I need to be patient because I won't last if-"

"I don't want you to...please Trevor..." 

"Not yet, baby...you're gonna be adored first..." I pulled her around me and into the bedroom. She deserved a bed. She deserved the comfort and space I'm sure he didn't allow her. Swift ducks to make himself come. But to know I was the only one to make her, genuinely, it was a high better than any woman on her knees for me. Maybe even her. 

"I can't wait...please Trevor..." She pleaded again as I'd stretched her for me. My fingers coated in her from tip to knuckle, learning her body exclusively for me. Every shudder, mine. Every moan, mine. Every whimper belonged to-

"Trevor!" She gasped as I used my cock through her lower lips. 

"Please..." She mewled, the desperations sweater with every utterance. 

"I can't wait." She nodded, her body welcoming me stronger than I expected. Her inner walls a vice around my shaft. Fuck I could  have come immediately. Everything was too much. But she deserved to be thoroughly blissed. I pinned her hands flat on either side of her head and controlled the thrusts as she continued to beg me. 

I never wanted her to beg. It was beneath her. But damn, she made it sound so sweet. 

"Harder..."

"Not yet, baby." 

"Ugh!" Her back arched as I began to increase my speed. Sweat mixed in abundance to tell whose belonged to who. It stained the sheet all the same. 

"Please make me come, Trevor...I can feel it..."

"You don't have to ask...I will, baby. I just want you to feel all of me..." I thrusted again. Shit, she was so fucking good. Too fucking good. The way she dug her nails into me. The way she breathed in my ear. Every goddamn detail. 

"I do! You're so deep, baby-" A moan escaped my lips. I would be anything to her, gladly. But any possession made me an immediate switch. A submissive to her desires. 

"Fuck..." I strained over her as she nodded. 

"Yes, Trevor! You're gonna make me come!" Her nails clawed into my back.

"Harder." I teased the words she offered earlier as she obliged. We both wore the wounds of the night in both pleasure and pain. Red lines of nails on my back as they were left on her hips. Bruises from him were kissed and quelled by me as she showed me her appreciation of my valor. 

"Baby, tell me where to come..." 

"Inside-"

"But I didn't put on-"

"Inside-" her nails were sharp into my ass. God, I'd sold my soul to her. 

"Fuck...." I inhaled with a groan as she nodded. 

"Yes! Fuck! Ah!"

"Is it too hard baby?" I asked as she only shook her head, biting her lips closed to not belt. My hand came to her lips as she took them between her teeth, biting softly onto the pad as I kissed into her neck. 

The edge too close. Her body still too far. 

"I love you-" the words left my lips as I came to regret them already. 

"I...I didn't mean..."

"I love you too, Trevor..." She confessed breathlessly. Those words more of an aphrodisiac than any other moment. My body submitting to her as if I'd never known pleasure before. My body in tremors that she accompanied, until I was left at a rest against her chest. 

"I meant it..." I confessed. 

"Good." She smirked. "I did too." She kissed me softly. 

This was how it should always have been. Us. And I would face any charge, any man, even any hell to keep her. 

Little did I know, I was about to...

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916

MASTERLIST

TREVOR MASTERLIST

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

[symphonyofsilence]

So first of all, let me start by saying that JGY & LXC knew each other for far longer than Wangxian knew each other, or even WWX & the Jiang siblings were together. (Cloud recesses got burnt down and LXC went on the run when LWJ was around 17. At the time of the events of the Guanyin Temple LWJ was around 34. In the CQL, LXC & JGY first saw each other (& developed a huge crush at first sight) when LWJ was 15, and at the end of the story LWJ was 36) so all that talk of "LXC being too naive and blind for trusting JGY & thinking that he knows him"? Or hating him for defending his savior, supporter, and friend of 17/20 years? No. Wrong. Enough of that.

Now getting to the main point, IDK exactly when that teacher/student roleplay of them takes place but it must be shortly before NMJ's qi deviaton. Which is well into Xiyao's relationship. So my question is if these two have only now heard each others' guqin playing as is implied by these lines:

Jin GuangYao laughed, "Well, now that I've heard Brother's guqin skills, I might as well smash my guqin the moment I get home."

Lan XiChen, "Your skills are also considered quite fine outside of Gusu. Were they taught by your mother?"

Jin GuangYao, "No. I taught myself by watching others. She never taught me such things. She only taught me reading and writing, and bought a handful of expensive sword and cultivation guides for me to practice."

And they only now talked about JGY's family history with Meng Shi, and with how when telling his parents' story to WWX LXC talks like he hasn't talked with anyone about this story before, then wtf have Xiyao talked about all those years?!

[renren-006]

No More Secrets | Bruce Wayne x fem reader

plot: The reader already knows he's Batman, but maybe Bruce already knows that you know?

word count: 749

a/n: hey! I know a ton of you enjoyed my other Bruce story but here is a second one to add to the list! hope you enjoy it!

taglist: @rosecentury

You knew Bruce was Batman before he ever told you. After he had almost thrown himself off a building to save your life, you knew. You watched him fake smiles at events, and when he sweet talked the people in Wayne tower, you could see the man in the mask. At every event you saw him itching to get back out to the streets, you felt it when he would excuse the two of you early from parties just to drop you off at your apartment with a kiss and leave into the night. It angered you, how he never told you, so much so that you blew up at him after one of his parties. 

It was another social gathering put on by some wealthy business owner in Gotham, someone you knew you would have to write about for the paper the next morning so you tried to get a few words out of him. You could feel Bruce's impatience as it got closer and closer to 9 o’clock.  When it was at the hour he came up to you, as you were talking to a few of his business partners about their lives and stories.

“I'm so sorry but It's getting late and my lovely girlfriend here has to be up early for work tomorrow” he said, kissing your head as he whisked you away from the businessman. Burice wasn't a jealous type, and you knew that because he would defend you with his mask if anyone ever tried anything. As you were walking away from the party you could feel the slight tugs from him to keep you moving and once you were in the car, not a word left your mouth. 20 minutes later you were on the other side of town way faster than the law allowed and you stepped out of the car with a slam of the door. 

“What's wrong?” Bruce asked over the hood of the car. 

“Nothing. Goodnight Bruce”

“You've been short with me all night, something must be wrong?” He said walking towards you on the street. A light drizzle had started to fall from the sky, dotting his jacket. 

“I can't do this Bruce…” you said, looking away from him. 

“Can't do what sweetheart?” he said, pulling your face to look at him again. You raised your hand over his eyes. 

“I can't date you, and know that there's another side to you that you won't tell me about” you told him as the drizzling rain became harder. You let your hand fall down and he was looking at you with surprise. “I'm not an idiot, Bruce Wayne. You think I don't put together that the man I loved was Batman, savior of Gotham?”

“I did, I just…I didn't think it would be this hard to tell you”

“Why would it be hard to tell me, if you knew I had already figured it out?” You asked. 

“Because what if you left? Or what if I told you the truth for certainty and you would be in more danger because of it?”

“Bruce! You can't protect me from everything” you told him, annoyed his answer was always putting your life above his or the relationship you both had together. 

“I have to”

“No. All you have to do is make sure I can protect myself when your not there”

“What?”

“Just…Bruce just train me to know how to defend myself so if something happens like the roof again, i'll be able to at least fight till you get there”

“I can do that sweetheart” he told you. “Why don't I stay with you tonight?”

“And give up prowling the city”

“For you? Always. I should put you first before the city, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be out in this weather anyways” Bruce said with a chuckle. Knowing that these storms that blow through Gotham never let up till the next day.

“It's alright. Tell me the truth next time when you want to leave”“What if the reason I want to leave has nothing to do with defending the city?” “Then I guess the city can't wait for the night. Right Batman?” You asked as you swished your hips into your apartment building. Bruce smiled, locking the car and heading up to your apartment. Whether you watched a movie and paid attention was anyone's guess, but the rain didn't let up for the entire night. You trapped the Batman in your apartment and blamed it on the weather.

[cultofdixon]

You will always have a piece of my heart

Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • From an argument…to an emotional goodbye. Life changes for everybody, but you’ll always have each other • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon

Requested by: Anon

From strangers to friends…

“Hey”

Daryl flinched to the unexpected voice that was attached to the Alexandrian enjoying the night sky by themselves on their porch.

“Uh…hey?”

“Sorry I saw yea comin’ from Aaron’s. Don’t think we’ve met” They started and in a sense, expected him to say his name first but guess they did come off a bit creepy when startling him. “Alright uh. I’m Y/N. I saw your group come in but didn’t want to introduce myself then”

“Daryl, and why not?”

“New environment. Shits scary. Y’all wanted to get a feel for it before letting us insiders in”

The archer couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth in his chest just from a total stranger being considerate instead of shoving their existence down their throat.

“Welp!” Y/N smacks their knees before rising to their feet. “I’m here if yea ever need me. I don’t bite” as they made their way to their front door that’s when Daryl whistled for their attention.

“Yea uh. Think yea can show me around more tomorrow?”

Now it was them that couldn’t help their smile and their own sense of security with the warmth in their chest.

“Sure Daryl. I’ll see you in the morning”

“Goodnight Y/N”

“Night” They smile on their way in closing the door behind them..

Leaving Daryl to fully smile in the streets of Alexandria before making his way back home.

“Y/N?” Aaron called out for them as they were hiding away in their new place back home. He cautiously walked the place until he found them sitting on the floor propped up against the wall. “Y/N, are you hurt? Are you okay?”

Y/N looks up at him with tears running down their cheeks as that led for their best friend to kneel in front of them checking their person for anything. But they quietly pushed his hand away when it got took close to their face. Aaron frowns trying to understand just from body language but he was receiving nothing.

“Y/N…what happened? You were so happy reconnecting with our family but then—-“

“He’s leaving”

“Who…Oh, oh. I thought you knew Y/N” Aaron frowns sitting on the ground before them as they shook their head covering their face in their hands.

“…Why does it hurt this much Aaron? Why does it still hurt so much”

“Because he’s leaving. To find someone we’ve lost years ago…who’s confirmed to be alive somewhere.” Aaron sighs. “It hurt you in the past…being alone when someone you love chased dead end after dead end. Now you’re not together…you fell apart and rebuilt yourselves…but there will always be a piece of your heart connected to him, that makes him leaving hurt like your first heartbreak”

Friends into lovers…

“Ha! You what?”

“I love you” Daryl confesses to the confused Y/N as they were currently covering from enemy fire from the Savior’s side. “I needed to say it now”

“Or what? You’ll die with regret when I would never let anyone hurt you ever again?”

“…What are you saying?”

“My own version of I love you too” Y/N exhaled as the firing stopped for just a moment as they brought their hands onto his face bringing him in just enough for their lips to connect. “That son of a bitch will meet my wrath for hurting my favorite person.” They state once they part as Daryl instinctively brought them close when the firing started back up for a temporary moment.

As the first battle comes to an end, Daryl kept Y/N close until they were alone for the night. Y/N brought Daryl into their home bringing him into their arms protectively crushing them in their grasp.

“I’m not going anywhere sunshine”

“Please don’t ever”

Daryl straightened up while holding them in his arms returning the same amount of bone crushing protectiveness in their hug. He hid his face in the crook of their neck trying to get as close as humanely possible.

They were never going to let go of the other

Daryl sat alone for a moment at the fountain that carried metal placards that bore the names of those they’ve lost. He needed to go back to Y/N and talk it more thoroughly instead of the heated argument they had that lead to them pulling themselves away from a supposedly happy reunion as a whole group.

‘You look lost’ Connie signs to Daryl as he didn’t sign back immediately, all he did was look back down at his feet. She sighs audibly to get his attention as she brought herself to sit with him. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Y/N is upset’

‘Why?’

‘I’m leaving. To help find Rick’ Daryl has told Connie some time ago about the bridge fire and the time before their group joined Daryl’s. So she knows about the recent news. ‘I don’t know why they’re so upset with me’

‘Because you left before. Refused to come back. Fell in bed with another. Had a life you envisioned with Y/N, with the wrong person. Then expected everything to go back to how it was and that blew up in your face’ Connie was hitting him hard with everything. ‘The two of you separated but you have pieces of each other still embedded in your heart and your soul…that you will always be drawn back. But separating after all this healing, regardless that your romantic relationship is no longer there…they will miss you and don’t want to lose you forever’

Daryl knew what he had to tell them before he gets on his bike and goes to who knows where…and he was thankful for this moment. As was Y/N for theirs with Aaron.

Which led them watching Daryl saying his goodbyes to the kids and to Ezekiel, thanking him for keeping an eye on the two knowing Carol will also be there for them. Y/N kept their distance until they were ready for their turn but also to not cry in front of the man.

“You be safe, okay?” Carol smiles fixing the poncho on her best friend as Daryl nods giving her a smile before turning his attention toward Y/N. “You two will be together again. In this lifetime or another. Who knows”

“Keep an eye on them for me?”

“They can handle themselves. We know this, but I promise if it calms your nerves”

“I just want them to be safe” Daryl tells Carol in the softest tone he’s ever been as he waited for Ezekiel to finish talking with Y/N before making his way to them.

You know they will

As they want you to be as well

The two didn’t say a word yet, even when they were a foot apart from one another. Then Daryl quickly looked them in the eye when he heard them sniffling as that lead them to finally make eye contact with him.

“I hate you for doing this”

“That’s okay”

“You’re very important to me, D. I won’t forgive you if you didn’t come back”

Daryl felt that uncomfortable yet familiar weight return to his chest but when Y/N brought themselves close, wrapping their arms around him. That weight disappeared as he brought his arms around them. Using that old force of his protectiveness he had with them knowing he won’t be able to hold them for a long time.

“…I really hate you for doing this. But we fought too much in the past about this” They whisper keeping their grasp on him as if he’d disappear when they part. “Just please tell me…you will come back”

“I will, and not alone”

It was time, whatever that may be. The light was still shining bright upon the two as they parted from the other. Daryl looks them dead in the eye and don’t give it a second thought before saying…

“I love you”

I love you too D “I know” Y/N smiles warmly feeling Daryl gently hold their face planting a kiss on their forehead before getting onto his bike.

The archer sat there a moment glancing back to Y/N who stood there with a smile on their face as he was waiting for something. Something that never escaped their person even when he remained still for just a moment longer.

Then as he started his bike and started to drive away from the new Commonwealth that they both helped rebuild for a year. Y/N felt themselves fall apart as they watched him fade into the distance…

“You’re my person yknow that? You will always be my person”

“Even when my heart belongs to you?”

“You can be hate me till the end of time, but I know I will always go to you regardless”

And strangers again…

[imnotasuperhero]

Show me a garden (that's bursting into life)

Natasha Romanoff x Reder

A/N: IT'S HERE! A day late, but hey! I made it before I dehydrated myself from crying, lol. I hope you like this one and are hooked on a possible continuation? I know I could've added more but I honestly don't know if I could resist any more feelings right now. I did not proofread since I'm running late for work, so all mistakes are mine.

CW: Heart transplant.

--

"Welcome back," Molly greeted as she checked her vitals.

Natasha couldn't help smiling as her vision became clearer and she realized what was happening.

The surgery has been a success, allowing her another chance at life.

Freeing the tear that had filled her eye, she smiled gratefully to whoever was kind enough to gift her with their life and silently vowed to cherish this new opportunity and live it as best she could.

"May I know their name?" Natasha asked hoarsely.

Fidgeting under the nurse's scrutiny, she hoped to be granted the knowledge to properly thank them.

"This goes against the rules. But just because it's you, I'll tell you." The blonde smiled softly. "Her name was Wanda,"

Closing her eyes, Natasha couldn't help the warm feeling overtaking her whole body. "Thank you, Wanda." She whispered heartfully with all she had in her for those words to reach her savior wherever she was, if that was even possible.

But as any hospital did, these four walls held different stories. And while Natasha was basking in this new chapter in her life, someone else was mourning their lover.

The pain taking over you was nothing like you'd ever felt before.

They say losing a loved one can be the hardest thing to go through, but with time that empty hole will heal.

But how is one supposed to go on when the person who held your heart took it away with hers way too soon? How is someone supposed to keep on living when you've been robbed of your other half?

The falls your eyes were had you sniffing every now and then as your soul rolled out of you with every tear you shed. Your hand hadn't stopped shaking since you signed those damned agreements. Because despite honoring Wanda's decision, knowing she'd be ripped from her organs meant she was gone. Having agreed with her meant that you'd never see those beautiful green eyes and you'd never hear that thick accent ever again.

Having honored her wishes only meant you'd been left alone to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.

Chuckling sourly, you sat down in the waiting area outside the ICU, where your hospital tour would finish any moment now. And soon enough, a nurse came out through the sliding doors.

"Excuse me," you timidly walked towards the blonde lady. "I just wanted to know if the receiver of Wanda Maximoff's heart was okay," you did your best to keep your voice steady, gasping when the nurse's hand squeezed your shoulder.

"She is in observation, but everything seems to be going perfectly," she smiled warmly. "I know what it feels like, so I thank you for your gesture. Would you like to meet her?"

"No," you voiced weakly. "Thank you, though."

With the confirmation that the heart you once loved kept on living in someone else, you walked the cold tiles of Memorial Hospital, hoping you would never have to come back.

But what once seemed like a faraway possibility had become a reality in just a matter of just a few months.

And if anyone dared to ask how you could love so soon after Wanda, you'd tell them the truth.

Something in Natasha had captured your attention ever since the first time you saw her almost tripping over Puck, like a magnetic field that kept bringing you both together over and over until you decided to feed your curiosity and asked her for a date.

To say the rest was history was an understatement.

And while sometimes you missed Wanda, time and Natasha's love had started to heal your broken heart.

Maybe it was the way she stared at you like you were the only person in the world, or maybe it was the way her eyes wrinkled when she laughed heartily. Or perhaps it was the way she lived so freely like every second mattered.

"You're staring."

"Sue me," you clicked your tongue, earning a laugh.

"We have to get ready," she leaned down and you met her lips in the middle, taking advantage of her position to roll both of you over.

Muffling her gasp with a kiss, you parted away to look at her.

"Or we can just stay in." You wiggled your eyebrows playfully.

"How about no." She pecked your lips before pushing you away.

But before she could stand up, you grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers together as your left hand caressed her cheek, brushing away a rebellious strand of blonde hair that had faded away to give way to her natural red color. "I love you," you vowed, receiving a soft kiss on your cheek in return, leaving you with a bitter feeling. But you didn't have it in you to dig in.

"C'mon, baby. They're waiting for us." Natasha kissed your forehead sweetly before walking to the closet.

Your worries from earlier that night dissipated as the night progressed, and the music combined with the alcohol only served to blur your thoughts.

Truth be told, it's been a while since you had the chance to go out with your friends since work occupied most of your time lately. So when the invitation arose, you were the first one to agree. Even more so when a certain redhead moved against you in a way that wasn't appropriate for young audiences.

Having your hands found their place at every side of Natasha's hips, you flushed her as close as you could, with your hips moving in sync with the sexy beat of the song.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," you murmured in the shell of her ear, feeling her body trembling even the slightest.

"What you gonna do about it?" Hearing the mischief in her tone was enough to get you into action.

Turning her in your arms, you crashed your lips against hers, blocking any word that would come, with a mission set in mind.

"We should go somewhere more private," her deep moan, as your thigh found her cunt, had you shivering from head to toe in the most pleasant way.

"Your place or mine?" You bit her lower lip before sucking on it.

"You choose." Natasha started walking you backward to the exit, ignoring the catcalls and "oohs" of your friends and who were you to deny her?

Unable to stop kissing Natasha, you clumsily stumbled through your front door, thankful that the Uber had a divisory window to keep your business between you and Natasha only.

But it wasn't until your fingers grazed the skin under her burgundy dress that you realized what you were doing.

Breaking from the heated kiss, you took Natasha's hands from your naked breast, linking your fingers together.

"If we continue I won't be able to stop," you leaned your forehead against hers. But instead of an apology or some sort of plea, you were met with her plump lips taking over yours and you had to fight extra hard to part away.

"I'm serious, Nat."

"I'm ready," she breathed and you searched into her forest green eyes for some trace of a lie, but what you found had your heart squeezing in the most exquisite way. The trust reflecting in those orbs had you closing the distance, kissing her tenderly as if asking for permission at every movement of your tongue exploring her mouth.

Locking your arms around Natasha's neck, you made sure to pour every single drop of love you held for her, making it impossible to fight the chaotic fire spreading through your body. The mix between arousal and gratitude had your fingers running through her creamy thighs, pressing a bit too hard as if intending to mark her.

Breaking the kiss, you smiled shortly as Natasha groaned only to sigh as your lips traced her jaw down to her neck nibbling at the soft skin, just to soothe it with your tongue after.

The needy moans coming from Natasha were a drug you didn't know you needed until now and you surely as fuck didn't want to stop hearing.

But all your determination in making this a night to remember went downward when you heard the lustful way in which your name rolled out of her.

With quick hands, you unfastened the zip on her back, dragging the tight-fitting dress down as your fingers caressed every single inch of soft skin they could reach within their path.

But contrary to your intentions, just as your lips grazed over the big, angry pinkish scar you just discovered, Natasha's moans turned into cries as her whole body spasmed.

"Baby," you shushed as your arms wrapped tightly around her shaking form, walking carefully the short distance to her side of the bed where you lay her down before quickly joining her, bringing her half on top of you, placing her ear atop your chest like she always liked to do when she was feeling down.

"No." Natasha sat back up with her back towards you, stabbing your heart.

"Would you at least tell me what's going on?"

You knew it wasn't the right time to question her. But you've been receiving different signals a few days till now and you were tired of her push-and-pull.

At her lack of answer and her body spams not subsiding, you stood up and rounded your bed, kneeling in front of her.

"Nat," you begged as you took her hands in yours, smiling briefly when she didn't take them back.

"The heart." She spoke after a few moments too long.

"What heart?" You mused softly, not understanding what she meant other than she's had heart surgery as you just had discovered.

"The heart I received. It's Wanda's."

Those two words had your soul frozen, making it impossible to breathe.

The well-known pain you've experiencied a year ago had your body giving up, plopping on the floor with your head tilting to the side as you stared at Natasha trying either to get a confirmation or an…

"Is this why you pursued me? Because you felt obligated?" You spit venomously.

"I-"

"No." You stood up and tumbled towards the door. "I can't hear it." You walked out, leaving her behind.

All in you wanted to scream and burn and just… "Wanda," you cried softly, feeling your tears filling your eyes and your chest starting to close.

Was all this a lie? Had you been a charity case all these months?

Had you been played by the person who saved you from drowning in sadness?

The hole in your heart opened again, consuming all the happy memories you've had with Natasha as you wandered lost through the maze that was your emotions' realm.

The rattling thunder shaking the earth had you jumping back into reality, where you managed to finally deliver oxygen to your tired lungs, allowing every cell in your body to work a little easier.

Walking to the big window in your living room, you allowed your tears to reflect the raindrops as you formed more questions than answers.

But before you could dwell too much into them, Natasha's presence had you facing her. Your gaze settled on the duffel bag in her hand.

"You're not going anywhere. It's storming badly outside," you indicated.

All Natasha could do was nod curtly as she settled her bag on the floor before sitting on the couch, flinching when you did the same a few centimeters away.

The uncomfortable silence filled with unspoken questions and the hurt and judgment she could feel emanating from you had her skin itching in ways she's never experienced before.

Her vocal cords craved to speak her truth. She was dying to reassure you and to make you understand. But the cold demeanor you sported had her silently crying, regretting all her decisions.

"Why you lied to me?" You broke the silence, your words cutting through her soul.

"I didn't-"

"Hiding something is the same thing as lying." You refuted.

Swallowing hard, Natasha spoke honestly. "I didn't want you to think less of me."

"You do realize I'm thinking less of you now after I found out you hold my late girlfriend's heart. Right?" You turned your head and Natasha couldn't help choking at the cold she saw in your eyes. Those same eyes that used to look at her with a warmth that melted her even on the coldest day. "How could you keep something like that for so long?"

Unable to look back at you, Natasha inhaled sharply trying to gather the courage to tell you the truth.

She knew that if she wanted you to forgive her, she must come clean.

"When I found out her name, I wanted to find you to thank you. To show my gratitude to you and somehow to her, too." Natasha sniffled softly. "But when I saw you, something in me lighted up with curiosity. Something about you called me to connect with you," Natasha dared to look at you and her heart shattered in million pieces all over again at the tears running down your face, and even if her fingers itched to brush them away, she kept her hands on her lap. She had no right to comfort you after breaking you.

"I truly wanted to tell you, but I don't know why I decided to omit my intentions and just play it as a casualty. And I know I was wrong," she hurried to say. "But when I noticed your pretty smile appeared because of me, I wanted you to see me as… Me. Not as Wanda's new vessel."

Pausing to gather her thoughts, Natasha turned her body to face you and test her luck, smiling small when you didn't take back your hands from her grasp.

"All I did was because I felt it, not because I pitied you nor anything of that. Y/N, you gotta believe me. My love for you was never a joke." She spoke securely, yet fearful.

"I never ever felt obliged to be with you. Much less to win you. I promise, cross my heart, that I fell for you hard. And I wanted you to feel for me, not for Wanda nor because you thought you owed your life to her beating heart."

Of all the reactions she could imagine, this was never an option.

Closing the distance, your arms locked around her torso as you placed your head on her chest, your ear aligned perfectly atop her heart, and Natasha didn't know if the broken cry she released was because of happiness or sorrow.

"You think we can work this out?" Your broken voice had Natasha's hold on you tightening in relief.

"We will," she spoke strongly. "I believe in us." Natasha released a calming breath as the new possibility of you overcoming this together opened in front of her.

It might take time for you both to be back to where you were before tonight's revelations. But with work, patience, and love, your story with Natasha was far from being over.

Taglist: @summergeezburr @red1culous @wandabear @owloftheshadows

[doriandrifting]

This shit with Kit Connor is bringing me back to the Love, Simon days, and I just gotta rant. Like first off, yeah the movie has some problems that didn’t really exist in the books, but so many people downplay the significance of that movie hitting the theaters. I’ll say, for myself, I was 18 and had just come out to my closest friends as bi a year before. It was genuinely the first romcom happy queer movie I had ever seen. I went home and cried my eyes out. And then I got online, and all I saw was people shitting all over it—calling the author of the book series, Becky Albertalli, a fetishist and saying the movie was “for the straights” because “all the actors were straight”.

Becky Albertalli was forced to come out as bisexual to defend herself. And then, what do you know? Like half the cast came out as queer in some compacity in the next few years following its release. It’s almost like they were literally barely out of their teenage years and were still figuring themselves out, or not ready to open up yet. Hell—Nick Robinson’s brother, who’s not that much younger than him, only came out to Nick as the movie was filming. Also one of the actors even stated that most of the production crew openly identified as queer, and the director was an openly gay man. But apparently that means fuck all, and these young actors should have their personal lives ripped into and either be called queerbaiters or be forced to out themselves.

For all the shit talking people did of Love, Simon to prop themselves up as some saviors to the purity of queer media, all they did was recreate the plot. A bunch of fucking Martins outing Simon. And of course it’s all happening again with the Heartstopper cast. They’re even younger too, which really breaks my heart. Coming out is never easy, but the fact that people are demanding it on a global stage from a bunch of teenagers? A bunch of teenagers on a show that stars Charlie, a kid who was forcibly outed? Talk about consuming media with zero critical thoughts.

And I know that these people never learn their lesson. I can only imagine the reaction from the general audience of Stranger Things next season with Mike and Will. The hate for Will’s character started immediately following the season, and Noah had to navigate all these questions about queerbaiting when the show isn’t even over. And I can only imagine what it’s going to be like for the actors following season five. Which, again, is ridiculous, because they don’t owe anyone an explanation.

Anyway, Simon said it best, “I'm supposed to be the one that decides when and how and who knows, and how I get to say it. That's supposed to be my thing, but you took it away from me.”

[inlovewithregencyera]

A letter from Maximilian Worthington to Frederick Worthington:

July 8th, 1817

Often, I am haunted by the fear of judgment for expressing my emotions so freely, save for you alone am I truly able to confide in. Today was extremely hard for me because it would’ve been Mama’s fiftieth birthday. I remember her death so clearly in the back of my mind, just as if it were yesterday. I returned from my daily ride, shortly before the usual dinner. I picked Mama a handful of daisies hoping to lift her spirit as she had been so melancholy with the loss of my dear sister the year prior. I hastily walked up to her chamber, knocked, and received no answer. Knocking once more and still hearing nothing, I entered the room, only to find her lifeless body limp and sprawled across the bed. I screamed for Father, who rushed from his study, and upon seeing his dear wife, collapsed and was immediately consumed by tears. His scream was heard all over Ivyhurst, as Isabella came immediately from the drawing room. We were all overtaken by grief, and sprawled on the floor in our despair. Miss Hurst, Bell’s governess, gently took the poor desolate girl away from the scene. I attempted to console my dear Father and it seemed my mind had gone blank. I don’t know how long I sat there with him weeping into my arms, perhaps it was an hour or two because when I looked out the window the sky was pitch black. Papa refused for anyone to come near her body, and told Reverend Smith to be damned to the depths of hell. When the funeral furnisher and undertaker finally arrived, he could not part with the corpse of his beloved Phia and therefore attacked both men who tried to get her. Because of this, he was given one last night alone with her, and he didn’t sleep. He held her in his arms and wept into her bosom the whole night, begging God to do the irreversible and take him instead. He said it wasn’t right that a man's sweet little daughter and now his beloved wife must go before him. I sat with Bell the whole night who cried herself to sleep in my arms. I didn’t sleep and had no more tears to cry, so I just sat there with my right leg joining my heart in numbness. At the crack of dawn, Father called us to embrace Mama’s lips and say a last farewell. I knew this kiss would be the last I should ever bestow upon on the woman who held all my affection. In the evening, she lay in the chapel with all the servants and the few people she held dearest to her heart around her coffin. The only person missing was you, as Papa blamed the entirety of your household for her demise, thus you were forbidden from coming. The daisies I picked for her were placed into her hands, and that was my final gift to my mother. She was taken to Thornfield before nightfall, to be reunited with the vessel of her daughter just as her spirit had been. Papa refused to watch her be put into a grave as he said he would jump into it with her, and Bell and I knew our hearts couldn’t handle that same sighting we saw less than a year ago with the death of our Elle. I watched the hearse head for the gates, and before it left, I kept telling myself that it was a nightmare. I hoped it would return with haste and bring back my nurturer, my savior, my most cherished Mama-but it never did.

[vindickyoutive]

spoilers!!

ok so thoughts on the first 3 eps.

- annie being a childhood bully, i kinda seen it coming. i feel like her mother’s narcissism & projection most likely instilled this sense of entitlement within her in her youth. interesting reveal, i wonder how this’ll come up again later on in the season now that the first half is presumably done.

- hughie’s mom lmfmdmdd that theory i had with his mom also being homelander’s mom seems kinda dead in the water, especially with the post partum & attempted suicide explanation. also hughie & victoria nueman were definitely a thing idc what anyone says, i’ll write the fic myself!

- mm being the leader!! mm kinda being mediocre at it but not messy! also his fight with billy was.. 😕 really feeling like they’re going to do down the comics route & it might be gut wrenching, but who knows!! it seems like they’re still changing things up. (everything that’s going on with black noir’s character)

- frenchie/kimiko, i’ve never seen a captive-savior, friends to siblings to lover, back to siblings to friends trope before and i gotta say.. i could care less either way, makes for an entertaining watch though!

- sister sage, i’d let her sit on my face. that’s it. that’s all. in all seriousness though, wow, talk about a fresh face!! her dynamic with homelander is chefs kiss & the fact that they’re literally going everywhere together the first 3 eps is hilarious, it’s like mean girls but just two girls. homelander literally going out of his comfort zone to recruit her, wooooooooooooooooooooo

- firecracker, not much thoughts on her yet. her backstory with starlight is eyebrow raising but that’s pretty much it!

now to the big 3

- ryan.. oh my precious little angel. god where do i start. first off cameron corvetti is doing an amazing job, really selling how emotionally torn ryan is. ryan himself is such a fascinating character in this season especially, & i love that we’re finally seeing him make his OWN decisions. he went to go see butcher. by himself. he misses butcher, and he knew that it would upset his father but they showed that the boy has his own desires & his own autonomy. every season we either saw ryan with someone by his side, whether it be an adult figure or just anyone else - always making decisions for him or telling him how he should feel about this or that.

he’s told how he should perceive his father, what he should do, what he shouldn’t do, what his future may be. i feel like now, with all those external layers aside, we’re going to see ryan’s approach on things now, especially the later episodes that’ll come out & i’m so excited. god, i’m so sad for him. i have more to say on ryan but i can’t even put it into words.

- billy, billy, billy! still a mess. it’s so interesting seeing him still make borderline bad decisions & pulling out of them, but this time he pulled out of one early. thank god. drugging ryan? that was not going to end well. 💀

like i said, how low he is this season has got to be the lowest we’ve seen him since the beginning of season 2? the beginning of each season he’s pretty down under, but this one just feels different. especially considering that between every interaction someone is basically telling him that’s he’s a deadman walking. 6months, 6months, 6months!! seeing him patch things up with ryan is a balm to my soul, seeing him make ryan smile, balm to my soul, oh & he missed becca so much gaaaaahhh!! on the bright side, seeing him so low, he’s got to get a win soon & i’m ready to see what it’ll be! i wonder how the writers are going to navigate his illness, i still am leaning towards the idea that he might get powers himself. (i havent read any voughthq spoilers other than the few i’ve seen around regarding a bit of hl, these are raw thoughts, most of the time.)

- homelanderrerereeererererrrerererrr

more personal season for him, imo. we seen his morning routine, seen his tits, seen him OUT OF HIS GODDAMN SUITTTT, seen him have an early severe mental episode after he found out ryan was with butcher. next few episodes should do a deep dive, finally, on the torment & abused he suffered through as a child. and i’m just… devastated. now to be truthful, it was a SHAKY start. i didn’t like the taste in my mouth with all of the trump references, & some bits of how he was treating ryan, especially with being all controlling?? if that makes sense? considering how sorta gentle he was with him in season 2 or 3. forcing ryan into this & that, kinda didn’t really align with what whatever they had going on in the prior seasons. i feel like they just wanted to push the envelope a bit, & not so subtly say, hey, he’s not a good dad but the writers don’t know homelander like EYE do so. i mean, we ALL know he’s not the best dad, & his thirst for being the best dad for ryan is the conflict between him & ryan imo 🙂 he wants to give ryan what he never had, he wants everything to be PERFECT for ryan but ryan feels like he doesn’t deserve it, which pushes & pulls at ryan, especially since homelander is all ryan has left in a way. unfortunately, at the end of the day, they both need each other. & that’s how i’ve always seen that pairing.

anyways, episode 3, they kinda got back on track. hmm. i feel like this wouldn’t push ryan completely away from him though, & a delusional part of me sees homelander apologizing to ryan (not a straight up ‘i’m sorry about that’ ofc) perhaps an attempt on giving him a milkshake idk 🥹

[unnervinglyferal]

Saw a thing that made me think of you for some reason. Gonna paste the entire reddit post here rather than link it, because you need to read in real time for the funny:

"My (31M) wife (32F) and I are in a healthy and happy relationship. That said, we’ve been together since high school, so we both feel that we missed out a little by being each others’ only sexual experiences. We’ve talked about this at length and decided a few years ago that we’re ok with having a few hall passes in our relationship, since we very much intend to stay together the rest of our lives and don’t want any resentment over missed possibilites. Plus it’s pretty rare that we could even find such an opportunity, as it’s a little hard to find hookups when you’re in a committed marriage and don’t go out much. We even gave each other advance approval in case a situation arises, so long as we’re safe about it and tell each other immediately afterward. We’ve both used one HP, each with someone we knew well enough but would never see again, and no issues came out of it. In fact, it’s only made us more secure in our relationship and how much we genuinely appreciate being with each other.

Recently, I had to travel to London for work. I don’t normally get to travel for work, so I decided to make a trip out of it and spend a few extra days of my own time in the city after the project was done. My wife couldn’t join because she didn’t have any vacation time left but was very supportive of me taking some time to explore since I’ve never been to London and she has. Being cheap, and being a pretty outgoing guy when I’m so inclined, I decided to stay in a hostel. I was interested in meeting other travelers since I didn’t know anyone in the city and love being sociable with new people. I chatted with several of the people staying there, and in particular a very attractive French girl (mid-20’s) who dressed super goth.

For context, I love the goth girl look. I’ve been sucked into the goth gf propaganda online, much to the annoyance of my wife. It isn’t her style, but she has been nice enough to cater to me by putting on a sexy goth outfit on occasion, since she’s knows it’s a huge fantasy of mine. Still, I pester her constantly to be more goth because I enjoy it so much.

Anyway, I ended up spending a little bit of time with goth French baddie - we both went to the hostel’s happy hour event and hit it off there. I found out that she was recently single and was in London for an art show. It turned out we were both into emo music, and we talked about our favorite bands. I had the thought that she was acting a bit flirty towards me, but didn’t think too much of it, until I later found myself sharing a sink with her in the hostel bathroom.

The hostel was co-ed, so each floor had a small shared bathroom with a communal sink, and a door that was meant to be kept open but which people frequently closed for the sake of having more privacy than just a stall to shower in. So I’m brushing my teeth while chatting up the real-life version of Shadowheart (who, mind you, is wearing an extremely low cut top), when she suddenly closes the bathroom door behind us. In my mind, my wildest fantasy is about to come true. It’s even more exciting because of the adrenaline rush of being in a semi-public setting, and a girl being so into me that she would make such a bold move. I can’t believe this is actually happening to me. I instantly get hard. Then she turns around and asks “Are you interested in learning about our lord and savior Jesus Christ?”

She had me cornered for 10 minutes trying to talk me into salvation, while I grew increasingly despondent and immensely disappointed, with the whiplash of going from what could’ve been one of the crowning moments of my life, to pure and utter dejection.

When I told my wife this story, she laughed for a solid hour. She said it’s karma for annoying her about wanting a goth gf.

TL;DR life dream was to bang a hot goth girl. Thought I was getting the opportunity, but got cockblocked by Jesus Christ. god is real and he hates me."

The fucking mood whiplash. I was reading this nodding along like okay yeah I guess that could be us in like 10 or 15 years, who knows, neither me nor my girl are the jealous type or anything, and then it fucking struck. The christians have weaponized goth girls. Fucking lost it laughing, it's been a rough 24 hours, thank you.

[sl-newsie]

Falling For You (Robert Fischer x OC)

Summary: A city girl’s life as a waitress can’t improve, can it? Wrong! As fate would have it, one woman catches the eye of Robert Fischer and he offers her a job as his escort. Why choose someone from low society for such an elegant position? Will this employment stay platonic… or will their feelings for each other start to bleed through? Warnings: Inappropriate language (nothing too extreme), hinting at intimacy

“Leave me alone!” I shove the man’s hand off my shoulder and attempt to escape into the city crowds.

Talk about a rainy day. Literally. Not only am I being pursued by a sketchy customer but it’s also raining buckets. Somehow I knew today was going to be a downer. The train broke down so I had to walk to work, nobody felt like tipping, and my boss wants me to do overtime over the holiday weekend. One day at a time, living the full city life as a waitress. And now one customer is getting too attached for my taste.

“We’re not through-!” He grabs my arm again and I kick him in the shin.

“Yes we are! I’m not interested!”

His eyes go feral and before I know it he swipes his foot under my feet and I’m falling backwards to the wet pavement. “You bitch!”

“Ah!” My head’s going to split-! “Oh my God!”

A pair of new hands grab my arms just before I hit the ground. I’m not dead.

“Are you alright?” a gentle but serious voice asks from above.

I look up to see my savior: a lanky man in a business suit with a spiffy tie and suspenders underneath a navy blazer. Not everyone can wear suspenders but he pulls them off well. Is my heartbeat speeding up because of the fall or because of the man’s incredibly handsome face? A familiar face, like a celebrity. Clear blue eyes, cute haircut, sharply-sculpted cheekbones, and soft lips. A rich man, no doubt.

“Hey, money bags. Leave the bitch to me and scram!”

Oh. I forgot the jerk was still here. The rich man, still holding me, doesn’t seem to care. He helps me stand up and takes his time to respond after giving the jerk a look-over. He’s not impressed.

“You will never bother this woman again, or you will regret it.”

His words are steady but hold a threat with new meaning. Both the bully and I know what he’s talking about. This man has half the city in his pocket and could make any death an accident. Thank God! The brute gets the hint and sprints off, leaving me flustered to still be clinging to the rich man’s suit.

“What’s your name?” Even his voice is attractive.

Before I answer I pull away and wipe off what water I can to make myself presentable- although it’s hard to in a rainstorm. 

“Margaret Chillinger.”

“Here, let’s get out of this,” the man says and leads me to a nearby restaurant. When we get inside he offers me a seat at a corner table and we both sit. People are already staring and I know what they’re thinking. Why would someone like him be in this low-rate place with someone like me?

The man ignores the stares. “Do you know me?”

Once the rainwater is wiped off (no doubt my makeup is smudged now) I nod my head. “I know who you are. Anyone who reads the papers knows who Robert Fischer is. I’m so sorry to hear about your father.”

Earlier this week I saw a headline claiming that Maurice Fischer, head of Fischer Morrow, one of the biggest energy companies of the world, had passed away. What are the chances I come across his son Robert Fischer? But I don’t feel as odd because Fischer is acting odd as well. Did he whisper ‘not dreaming?’ Why is he even in this part of town anyway?

“Looks to me like you’re in need of a job. A better job,” Fischer observes. “How about considering working for me? Not as a secretary. One that’s more… sociable.”

A new job? Me? Working for a multi-millionaire? A handsome multi-millionaire? What’s the catch?

“Are you saying you are in need of an escort, Mr. Fischer?”

“I need a smart and attractive woman who’s not ditzy enough to trip on her heels.” Fischer never looks away, still with the same no-kidding expression. “Someone the press can admire.”

A showgirl. That’s what he needs. “You obviously come from money. I imagine you already have a large arsenal of pretty girls to parade around with.”

Fischer chuckles. “Looks can be deceiving. What if I told you that I’ve never officially had a hired escort? Only a few temporary employees.” His expression changes. “Will there be any jealous boyfriends I should be aware of?”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Looks can be deceiving. Bold of you to assume I have one. You saw how my last encounter went and he wasn’t even my boyfriend.” I arch a brow. “You rich guys usually don’t come here to associate with lower society. Why choose me?”

“Because I take you as a woman who’s bold enough to not be afraid of authority.”

So he needs a girl with guts. “I don’t fear authority, I respect it. Also I kinda owe you for saving my head from becoming a split melon. You need my street smarts, Mr. Fischer.”

The man’s smile brightens at my diagnosis and he pats my shoulder. “You’ll do just fine. How does ten grand sound as a starting wage?”

Ten grand? This is one Hell of an interview. There has to be a catch. “How deep would the… physical details of the job venture?” I ask slowly.

Fischer is quick to explain. “Basic hand-holding, conjoined arms, the occasional kiss on the cheek. Nothing more.”

Wow. This is not what I expected. How is a man this rich so- so… kind? “Could you maybe-?”

“I will put it in writing,” Mr. Fischer finishes for me. “And I always abide by my contracts, Ms. Chillinger.”

I’ve never had a contract before. Ten grand… Ah, Heck. Why not? It’s better than my crummy waitress job. I can pretend to be an escort. Especially to such a generous employer.

“Ok. So when do I start?”

“You started 20 minutes ago. And you’re doing a brilliant job.” Mr. Fischer notices my confusion. “See those men there?” I look to where he’s pointing and spot two men wearing sportcoats, each occasionally looking over at us. If they’re trying to be discreet they’re doing a terrible job of it. “They’re reporters. They’ve been taking pictures throughout our whole conversation.”

That’s how popular this man is. This is how public my job is going to be? I need to alert my family so they don’t die of embarrassment. 

Mr. Fischer scribbles something on a business card and slides it across the table. “Here’s my personal number, just so when I call you will know I’m not a stranger.”

“But you don’t have my number.”

He simply tilts his head in consideration. “I have my ways. I’ll send over some supplies for your job.” Supplies? “Your first session starts tonight. I’m flying out to Los Angeles and need you to come with me. You’ll be given a private hotel room.”

Los Angeles? Just how much does-? But before I ask Mr. Fischer gets up from the table and gives a proper goodbye before heading back into the rainy streets. Well done, Margret. You’ve moved up from being a waitress at a greasy spoon to being an escort for a millionaire. A very handsome millionaire. How is a city girl supposed to pull this off?

Well. The question of pulling it off is answered. Outside my apartment door are bags and boxes of unknown department store goods. What’s Fischer done now? I quickly push the pile into my apartment before the neighbors can get suspicious. What is- Oh. 

The packages contain every woman’s dream. Gorgeous dresses, elegant evening gowns, classy heels, designer bags, expensive makeup brands. This is the supplies Mr. Fischer was talking about. Something to clean up my image. Clean up his image.

It’s not for you, Margret. He could have picked any woman to dress nicely. Remember that everyone is driven by fear, survival, worry, and anxiety. If Robert’s going to survive the corporate world he needs a woman by his side to show off. The rich man’s world is crazy.

I shower and scrub my skin raw to get rid of the dirt and grime covering me after today’s shift. It doesn’t take as long as I thought to get dressed. I have no idea what event Mr. Fischer is flying to so I choose a simple but classy black dress paired with gold heels. I look the part, now it’s time to test it. Downstairs I find a very sleek limo waiting out front.

“Are you Ms. Chillinger?” the driver asks.

“Yeah, that’s me. Did Mr. Fischer send you?”

“Yes. He instructed me to drive you to the airport. Do you need help with your bag?” I politely shake my head and climb inside, making him look surprised. “That’s the first time a girl hasn’t asked for special treatment. I’m Daniel, by the way.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Daniel. Do you know why I’m here?”

“I have a good idea. My advice? If you want to look legit then you need to pour everything you have into looking confident and rich. Very rich. The cameras love a rich smile.”

Even Fischer's chauffeur is nice! Maybe this job won’t be so bad after all. 

“Thanks, Daniel. Now let’s not keep Mr. Fischer waiting.”

“Good evening, Mr. Fischer. Ready to fly?” 

Even my voice is different. I take Daniel’s advice and attempt to hide my laid-back city accent with a posh tone. It seems to please Mr. Fischer, who’s wearing a different suit that’s a sharp black with a navy blue tie.

His pleased smile is good praise. “I thought that dress would look nice. Do you like it?”

“It cost more than all of my belongings. You have good taste, Mr. Fischer.” I look across the runway and see a giant white jet approaching. “Private jet? Fancy.”

Fischer shrugs. “This is what a business empire gets you. Now follow closely.”

Right. Time to go to work. I grab my simple carry-on bag and Fischer offers an arm for me to take. I must say it’s not as uncomfortable as I thought. He’s gentle but still tense, something expected from a stressed businessman. He leads me to the plane and immediately the stewardess rushes out to greet us- Or him, specifically. 

“Hello, Robbie! Looking handsome as ever-! Oh.” She notices my arm linked with his and her smile stiffens. “Who’s this?”

“Tiffany, meet Margaret. She’s my newest employee,” Fischer answers smoothly.

Aw, that’s sweet. He introduces me as an employee instead of the specific title. Though Tiffany seems to catch on to what I really am because her gaze tells anything but friendly terms.

“Oh. Robbie, what’ll it be? Whiskey or Scotch?”

Tiffany desperately tries to lure him away but to no avail. Mr. Fischer holds his place next to me and we both start climbing the stairs to the jet. His business behavior precedes him. Does he ever break from it?

“Feel free to sit anywhere,” Robert says and takes his own seat next to the window. “Have you flown before?”

“No. But I’m not afraid of it.”

“Before we begin, here is the contract you requested.”

Fischer pulls out a small stack of papers and slides them onto the tray table. How did he draft that so quickly? It looks… surprisingly thorough. ‘I, Robert Fischer, pledge to abstain from physical and mental harassment in favor of one Margaret Chillinger. This includes unconsented kissing, groping, and sexual intercourse.’ There’s also a bulleted list of more restrictions. He’s thought this out well. And my half looks just as laid-out. ‘I, Margaret Chillinger, pledge to carry out the position of a lady escort to one Robert Fischer. This includes appropriate presentation, etiquette, and attire, attending required social events, and consenting to public press.’ Impressive.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Fischer,” I reply and sign my name on the dotted line. “Pleasure to be in business. Would you like to discuss the details of tonight’s event?”

“Robert!” Tiffany’s back. And she’s holding a tray with a hot towel. “I’ve prepped your flight necessities! Oh.” She makes a dramatic performance to see me sitting across from him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Robert would have a plus one. So there’s only one towel.”

I wave it off to show no offense. “I can handle not having a towel. Thanks anyway.”

Tiffany’s eyes flash and she retreats back to the employee lounge. 

“She’s pretty,” I nod to where the stewardess just stood. “Why not use her instead of me?”

“Because she’s a scatter-brained harlot.”

My eyes nearly pop out at his blunt language. Fischer just laughs and continues.

“The only reason she works here is because her mother is the head chairwoman of the airport. Just watch.”

We wait a few minutes and sure enough the stewardess walks by again. This time she’s carrying a tray with a bottle of blue liquid and a single glass. Zero hospitality skills. Even if I hate a customer I always give them my best service. But that job is behind me now.

“Tiffany, what drink is that?” Fischer points to the bottle.

The smiling woman holds it up. “A type of liquor, I think. It was in the cabinet next to the winerack.”

“Tiffany, that’s windex.”

It’s-? Oh my God! I have to look away to keep from laughing at the big mistake. Robert’s right! How on Earth is this lady qualified to work here? 

The poor girl tightly grips the tray and stiffly walks to the back.

“See? Completely hopeless,” Robert stifles a laugh. “Now about the event…”

The rest of the flight goes uninterrupted by Tiffany. Robert explains that the event we will be attending is a charity gala held for large companies. It’s a good thing I chose this gown instead of a sundress. He tells me that I’ll be free to wander as long as I don’t leave the building. That, and I’m not allowed to associate too closely with other men.

“That’s no problem for me. Your society is far from my own.”

“Yet you still agreed to work for me,” Robert points out.

“Not every rich guy is a s nice as you, Mr. Fischer. By the way, thanks for treating my job professionally.”

“You’ll do your job well, Ms. Chillinger.”

The jet lands and another luxury car is waiting outside. I could get used to L.A. The evening weather is gorgeous! As we’re driven through the bright streets I can’t stop staring at the many marvels all around us. And it gets better! The building we stop at is, quite frankly, a fortress. Far more wide than tall to accommodate the earthquake regulations, yet still breathtaking.

“Impressed?” Mr. Fischer asks from behind.

All I can do is nod. It’s not until he offers his arm again that I snap back to reality. Get it together, Margaret. Do your job.

“Mr. Fischer! Over here!”

Oh boy. The press. Just like Robert said. And they look hungry for good newsfeed. 

“Follow my lead,” Mr. Fischer whispers. “Just smile. That’s all there is to it.”

He starts walking and we do quick work to strut by the photographers, each offering smiles for whatever articles they’re writing. God, I hope it’s not too humiliating. Fischer hires new mistress? Rags to riches? Street trash becomes gorgeous gold digger? As far as I know nobody knows who I am. The public must assume I’m just any ordinary escort.

Inside the building are dozens and dozens of more rich men. Most of them are over 50 but there are a few like Robert who are still young. Aside from looking rich the only thing that most have in common is their escorts. All around me I see women being paraded around like a dog show. Once again I give a silent prayer to Robert for buying me a dress that is classy and appropriate. Some of these girls’ dresses wouldn’t even apply as shirts in my book.

“You look stunning tonight, Mr. Fischer!” A fellow escort compliments.

Now her employer joins the conversation, a shorter man with thinning hair. “And this young lady of yours is gorgeous! Where’d you find her?”

“Actually she found me,” Fischer replies with a smirk. “Margaret is a remarkable person to have around.”

The man lets out a gut laugh and winks. “Not just for social calls, I hope.”

“You have no idea.”

A sick feeling tugs at my stomach and I suddenly want to inch away. You knew this was coming, Margaret. These are business sharks. Not saints.

“Why don’t you go stretch your legs?” Robert’s voice offers an escape. “I’ll meet up with you later.”

Thank you, Mr. Fischer! I make sure to give him a grateful smile and then hightail it to the back. Maybe I can hide here-

“Well hello there,” a new voice lurks in the corner. A tall man in a cream Italian suit struts over with a devilish look in his eyes. “And who might you be?”

Stay strong. “I am Mr. Fischer’s escort. May I take a message?”

He grimaces at the mention of Robert. “Ah, Fischer. You know you could do so much better than him. What does he pay?” He creeps closer and I feel myself getting cornered to the wall. “I can make it worth your while.”

“I’m afraid that is out of the question,” I say firmly and slink past him. “If you have a problem with Mr. Fischer then I’d be happy to arrange an appointment.”

This is where the ten grand comes from. I wouldn’t be surprised if some women charge higher. I sneak around a corner and find a balcony. Good. I can use some fresh air. Outside the familiar noise of the city brings comfort to me.

“There you are,” Mr. Fischer greets and joins me on the balcony. “Doing alright? I saw Nicklson corner you earlier.”

“I will never understand how you can willingly associate with them, Mr. Fischer. They’re scheming, perverted monsters. I’ve met bums in the city who have more morals than them.”

He walks up next to me and puts his hand over mine. It’s not a gesture of business. It’s more comforting, more personal.

“You’ve done brilliantly, Ms. Chillinger.��

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Au contraire. Ever since we walked in, every guy here has been looking at you. I just closed a very profitable deal that was once impossible all because of you. Some men here are attracted to intelligence, and you’ve delivered most pleasantly. So, ready to call it a night?”

I… I did it. My first night as an escort and I nailed it! I just need to get over this sick feeling.

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” my city slang slips through but Robert doesn’t seem to mind.

When I first told my old boss I was quitting he thought I was joking. After handing in my official resignation, signed by Mr. Fischer himself, he nearly passed out. A few days later my first payment got transferred to my account. Turns out I can stretch ten grand very thinly. That and once every few days Robert will have me run a few errands for some extra cash. Picking up dry cleaning, scheduling doctor appointments, mailing packages. 

Four months go by. The pattern I’ve grown used to is simple. Every Friday I need to wear either a sundress or cocktail dress to a company meeting. Every Wednesday is an evening gown for publicity outings. Sometimes Robert lets me pick the place for dinner, other times he surprises me. Before each meeting I practice smiling in the mirror. After a few weeks of escorting I began seeing myself in the papers, even on TV. No surprise there are a few negative reports, with some saying I’m only seeing Mr. Fischer for his money. But for those who have gotten close enough they report differently. ‘Margaret is a delightful person to chat with.’ ‘Sometimes I even forget she’s an escort, she’s so funny!’ ‘Margaret can carry a conversation with a drunk Scotsman.’

The news eats me up with no problem. My family, on the other hand, sees things differently. My father was very proud to see me move up in the workforce. My mother was appalled to see me being towed around by Mr. Fischer on TV. My brother saw the upside with the paycheck but offered to cut off Fischer’s hands if he ever violated our contract. 

The contract that Robert has never tested even once. Only simple gestures, nothing more. Just as he promised. The first time he gestured for me to kiss him it came almost too easy. It certainly helps that he’s easy on the eyes but there’s something else about Mr. Fischer. It feels natural to kiss his cheek, to let him hold me for pictures. After a while I can’t help but start to wonder what real love feels like. How it would feel if someone like Robert actually loved me-

“Robert! Margaret! Over here!”

Today’s event is the opening of a new theater. Both of us have a liking for performing arts and decided to attend the opening night of the first show. Of course there were photographers in the theater with us so I turned on the charm. Hold Robert’s hand, lay my head gently on his shoulder. Pretend to fall asleep. They loved it.

Now that the show is over we’re faced with the sea of reporters.

“Margaret! That new dress is dynamite!”

“Mr. Fischer! Mr. Fischer! Stephanie from Playboy. Would your escort be willing for a photo shoot?”

That last one nearly makes my jaw drop but Robert blocks me from her sight.

“Right this way, Mr. Fischer.” The theater owner shows us to the back of the building, where Daniel is waiting.

“Pedal to the metal, Daniel. These people are going crazy.”

I go to pull the door open but Mr. Fischer beats me to it and lets me in first. What a gentleman.

“Good job, darling,” he sighs in relief when the car starts driving.

“God help my poor parents. I’ll never hear the end of this.”

“It’s all a charade. They know that.”

I shake my head and take the time to scratch my hairspray-filled hair, messing up the classy hairdo. “It’s still humiliating. When you go out everyone practically bows because you’re… you. With money. I can hardly walk to my apartment without my neighbors teasing about how I’m your “squeeze for hire.””

I was right to assume that this job wouldn’t be as easy as it seems. After almost a week of starting as an escort my nosy neighbors finally spotted me coming home in clothing that is way too extravagant for a waitress’ salary. They put two and two together once they saw the news. 

“Then let's work smarter, not harder. Come live at my place.”

What? I turn to face Robert too quickly and he takes my surprise as hostility.

“You’ll have your own room, of course,” he stutters. “This way our arrangement will be more civilized.”

Our arrangement. If this gets any deeper then people really will assume we’re together. But he’s right. If no one sees me outside of work then they can’t make up stories. Right? Still… It feels wrong to take advantage of his hospitality.

“You’ve already done enough for me. I don’t want to impose-”

“You won’t be,” Robert interrupts. “I have more than enough. Too much, actually. I need someone to share it with.”

“Maybe it’s different in the rich world but in my world it’s not polite to live off riches you don’t earn. I feel wealthy enough with how much you pay me already.”

He doesn’t seem to be taking no for an answer. Mr. Fischer reaches across the seat and takes my hand. “You are earning it, Margaret. You’re working for me.”

It’s a job. It’s… a job. A job hiding in Fischer’s house. “By playing as your happy homemaker?”

Robert’s eyes show he’s thinking. He gets like this when he’s playing chess, trying to think ahead. “More than that. I- I’ll explain later.”

We’ve arrived back at Fischer Morrow, where a group of more business officials wait inside.

I frown at the gathering through the window. “Mr. Fischer, what’s this? I didn’t think we were hosting another dinner until next month?”

“A last-minute party, I’m afraid. Only for board members so it won’t be too big.”

Wonderful. The excitement of the previous show at the theater is fading because now I have to deal with these people. It’s so much easier when it’s just Robert and I posing for pictures.

“Good luck, Mr. Fischer. Ms. Chillinger.”

“Thanks, Daniel,” I say and wave goodbye.

Robert holds out an arm and together we make our way to yet another social gathering. Oh! Here comes Mr. Browning. Mr. Fischer’s godfather is still skeptical of him involving me with so many events but every time the subject comes up Robert always argues in my favor.

“Good evening, you two.”

“Good evening, Mr. Browning,” I greet politely. “Would you gentlemen like a moment alone?”

“That would be very appreciated, Ms. Chillinger,” the man nods.

I pull away from Robert (does he look disappointed?) and slip inside the lobby. My favorite place is the fountain. Why do corporate buildings always have fountains? None of them compare to the Fischer Morrow fountain. Its main attraction is a center sculpture of a bronze Earth with different jets and currents giving off water displays representing earth, wind, fire, and air. Around the edges are real vines and other plants that give the fountain an extra finishing touch. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

It’s Jolene, Mr. Wallman’s escort. She’s nice.

“Hello, Jolene. How’s the water here?”

Her makeup-heavy face shows a look of warning. “Calm before the storm. The men here could use your pizazz right now. Care to start a conversation? I’ve tried everything.”

“Maybe try to talk about the new member of the Atomic Energy Commission?”

Jolene’s eyes widen. “I forget you’re still new to this. Hon, you never discuss work with your employer. We’re only here to please them and the reporters. If I tried to talk about Mr. Wallman’s work he would be very upset.”

Upset? Mr. Fischer never mentioned anything about avoiding work topics. Does he just assume I won’t talk about it? I’ve never thought about it before.

“There you are, dear.” Speak of the devil. “Would you mind joining me over here?”

I take his arm and resume my smile. “Of course, Mr. Fischer.”

He shows me over to the other side of the lobby where three men are waiting. Jolene’s right. They look bored and uninterested. If Robert needs to sell any new business pitches I need to liven them up.

“Hello again, gentlemen. You know Margaret, I assume?” Mr. Fischer introduces me.

“Ah! Of course! L.A.’s favorite sweetheart.”

“You do know how to pick ‘em, Fischer.”

I take my cue and fish for topics. “Did anyone hear the story about the youth development charity?” All I get are blank smiles. They must not like hearing an escort talk about this, like Jolene said. Time to distract. “On another note, you’ll never guess the dilemma I had last week. I chose a black dress for the New York Stock Market gala, and Mr. Fischer chose to wear navy blue! I had to find a last-minute dress to match him.”

Now all the men laugh at my error (even though both Robert and I went through miscommunication in the predicament) and partake in examining my current outfit.

“You make up for it, Ms. Chillinger. That dress you have now can do no wrong.”

One man continues to lecture me about his water plant and in the corner of my eye I see Mr. Fischer talking business with the others. My plan works because there’s no denying they're distracted now.

“Thank you, gentlemen. It’s been a productive night, but now Ms. Chillinger and I must be heading off.”

“Go easy on her, Fischer. Can’t afford to lose a pretty face like that.”

Those bastards! I swear one of these days I’m going to snap and let out my city side. I wait until Robert walks us outside before letting out a heavy groan.

“I know, I’m sorry. But you did your job well,” Mr. Fischer assures me. “I’ll give you an extra grand, if you want.”

“It’s not about the money, Mr. Fischer. You can’t buy dignity. The only reason I’m still in this is because you’re the best boss I’ve ever had.”

He doesn’t say anything. If he does have a comment he keeps quiet. We keep walking down the sidewalk and there’s still no sign of a pickup car.

“Daniel’s not coming. I thought we’d walk for a while. Is that ok?” Robert asks, almost sounding nervous. 

Why would he be nervous? Probably because he’s not used to this part of town. It’s almost near where I live- or where I used to live. Now I have to think about moving to Robert’s place.

“I’m always up for a stroll outdoors,” I try to sound optimistic. “Have you always lived indoors?”

His brow furrows. “Doesn’t everyone live indoors?”

I let out a laugh. “No! I mean, yes people do. But have you always lived in a penthouse? Ever gone outside for the heck of it?”

“Oh! Um, sort of. When I was younger. Now I don’t really think about it too much-”

“Hey!”

A new hand shoves me away from Fischer and I see a new threat, only this time it’s not a corporate shark. It’s a mugger. He’s definitely a rookie because there’s no gun or knife, as if he expects for Robert to simply hand over his money.

“Take out your wallet!”

“C-Calm down. Here, here it is-” Mr. Fischer gives in and slowly pulls out his wallet. Is he serious?

“He’s not giving you anything,” I argue and step in front. “Touch Mr. Fischer again and the hand comes off.”

The mugger scoffs. “Don’t tempt me, bi- Ow!”

I grab his wrist and give it a hard twist, then give him a kick to the groin. He crumples to the ground and with my sharp heel I step straight on his wrist for good measure. He’s taken care of but we can’t stay here for long if Fischer’s going to surrender so easily to someone like that.

“Thanks for that,” Robert says when I pull him away from the groaning victim.

“I don’t kid around. Never let them see that they get to you.”

“Should I hire you as my bodyguard as well?” Fischer half-jokes.

I roll my eyes and can’t hold back a smile. “You definitely still need my street smarts.”

Why did I do that? My job is to look pretty for the cameras, not defend Fischer from threats. It was out of the goodness of my heart. Only that, right? Not because I feel sorry, not because of- something deeper. I’m doing it to be nice, because he’s definitely been plenty nice to me.

I move into Mr. Fischer’s home the following week. ‘Home’ isn’t the right word. More like an empire. He still owns his father’s penthouse downtown, along with a large mansion on the outskirts and a cabin in the mountains. I choose the mansion so I’ll be close to the city but far away from prying eyes. Of course Robert hired workers to help me move, all of which were surprised by how little I own. 

“This is it?” The head mover asks.

“This is it,” I shrug. “Please be careful, some of this is fragile.”

“Are these musical posters really signed?”

“Yes. I’ve had them signed, which is why they’re special.”

In a matter of three hours my possessions are moved to the house and I’m already settling in. Robert has a meeting so he can’t show me around in person, but he still left a note.

Feel free to take any room. My quarters are on the second floor. Thanks for being flexible. -Robert

Flexible. That’s what I am now. Following my employer around like a hooker pursuing a money trail. But I am not that. I am a lady. And Mr. Fischer knows that. The other thing that catches my attention is how he signed it as Robert, not Mr. Fischer. Interesting.

I decide on the west wing upstairs, next to Robert’s rooms. The full bathroom, bedroom, and walk-in closet feels like a small house all in itself. What captures me most is the view. Half the room is made of windows that look out onto the woods behind the mansion. This ‘work smarter’ plan might not be so bad.

After I’ve unpacked and done some exploring I discover the kitchen. Another note promises that a cook will be over to prepare dinner but I can’t wait. I’ve been too busy to eat and it’ll feel good to make my own meal. In the refrigerator there’s some precooked chicken and raw vegetables. Perfect! One big skillet and a little olive oil later, I’ve made a fairly good dinner if I do say so myself. I may have grown up poor but I can still cook. 

Is this what it’s like? To have a normal life? A wife cooking and upkeeping a house while the husband is at work? No. I am no wife and this life is far from normal.

“Margaret! Are you here?” Robert calls from the hallway. He walks in and does a double-take when he sees me eating. Instead of being angry he seems surprised. “What’s this?”

“Hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t wait for dinner. You’re welcome to have some.” I hold out the skillet and Robert takes a deep smell. “I know it’s not the type of fancy cuisine you’re used to but-”

“That smells amazing. You really made that?”

He likes my chicken? “Umhm.”

A new set of footsteps alert me to the door and Mr. Browning joins us. “I thought tonight’s dinner was pasta?”

“Margaret made dinner,” Robert explains with a hint of pride. “Almost makes me forget the day’s chaos.”

“How did the meeting go?” I ask without thinking. Damn it, Margaret! You’re not supposed to talk about business! 

“It was… tough.” Huh? “Mr. Walker’s trying to get me to partner with his oil company because it’s losing money. He’s a friend of my father’s but I’m not sure I want to accept.”

Mr. Fischer’s letting me hear about this? It sounds stressful. Maybe I can help.

“I don’t know about energy. But I do know about business.” I take a bite of chicken and run through Robert’s words. “Seems to me like this is a scam.”

He looks up from staring at the counter, still running a hand through his hair. His eyes search mine for any hesitation but finds none. He seems to have made up his mind about something.

“Come with me to the meeting. You can point out if it’s a fraud.”

Me? In a board meeting? I’ll be cooked alive. I’m a waitress-escort, not a business expert. I won’t last ten minutes-

“Robert, I’m not sure if she’s qualified-” Thank you Browning!

“I trust her, Browning,” Fischer determines. “She’ll do fine.”

That closes the subject. He is the boss, after all. Since he trusts me with this then I can only bring what I can to the table.

“That’ll be all.”

Robert dismisses his godfather, who’s still looking skeptical, and turns back to his dinner. I see now how the day’s been tough on him. He downs the chicken like there’s no tomorrow and there’s dark circles under his exhausted eyes.

“You look tired. Something wrong?”

Robert catches me looking and tries to shake his drowsiness away. “I don’t sleep too well.”

Between balancing his father’s expectations and the mantle of CEO it’s not unusual. 

“Ever wonder what is real?”

Oh. It’s that kind of insomnia. Who knew Fischer’s thinking went that deep?

“Sometimes,” I reply after consideration. “I try not to think about that too much, otherwise I fry my brain.”

“Are you satisfied with your lodgings?”

I flash him a wide smile. “Is that a joke? This whole place is gorgeous, Mr. Fischer.”

“I’m glad you like it. You deserve it,” Robert grins. “The press loves you.”

They love me. But what’s the point of being loved by hundreds of strangers when I can’t even have the approval of my own family?

“You don’t know my parents. They will never accept this.” I gesture between him and me.

“You never met my father. I’d say we’re even.”

The distant way he says that labels deeper father-son issues. It’s no secret that they didn’t see eye-to-eye when the elder Fischer was alive, and Robert doesn’t seem to have let the guilt go.

“Did you hate him that much?” Don’t pry too deep.

“He… was a businessman,” Robert mutters. “Being a father came second, despite my efforts to please him. I don’t hate him, Margaret. I know he loved me. He just didn’t show it until he died.”

Sometimes I forget how young Robert was when he lost his father. Something like that isn’t easy to cope with, especially if they didn’t make amends.

“Your mother is dead too?” I ask softly.

He walks over to the wine rack and nods. “Died when I was 11. That young, and my father did nothing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Everyone has their own way of grieving. His must have been denial. Did you two ever recover?”

Fischer pops a bottle open. “Not exactly. He never wanted to talk about her again, so I just clung to what memories I had.” Out of the blue he sets the wine down and I see him disappear up the staircase. After a few moments he comes back panting and holding a picture frame. “See this? This was taken when I was 6. It’s my favorite memory.”

The picture Robert holds up shows a child and an older man, each with the same dark hair. The boy is blowing a handmade pinwheel on a bright sunny day. There’s something innocent about Robert’s young face- before he began trying so hard to earn his father’s approval.

“Before he died, all I could make out from his last words was how he thought I’m a disappointment,” Robert mutters in a distant tone as he pours a glass of wine.

“That’s not true.” Escort or no escort, I’m not ignoring this. “You are not a disappointment, Mr. Fischer. Anyone who spends a day in your shoes would agree.”

“But I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Everyone expects me to be just like my dad, but… Nevermind.”

Don’t ask further, Margaret. He doesn’t want to talk-

“What?” Stupid stupid stupid!

“You’ll laugh,” Robert waves it off.

“I promise I won’t. And if I do, you can subtract it from my salary.”

The man eyes me with a suspicion but doesn’t reprimand me. He sighs heavily and toys with his glass. “Something… Something in a dream told me that I shouldn’t try so hard to be like my father. Maybe it’s right.”

“Why would I laugh at that? Premonition and epiphany come to us in many different forms, Mr. Fischer. Call this God’s way of saying you can be your own person.”

Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad! But instead of scolding me for prying Robert takes in my words gracefully.

“Would you like a drink?”

Drinking with my boss? Normally people might call this inappropriate but then again my job isn’t exactly traditional. A small glass won’t hurt.

“Yes, please.”

Mr. Fischer pours another glass. “Um, you don’t have to stay up long. Since, you know, we’re not getting mobbed by the press right now. I won’t force you to follow me around my own home.”

Wow, this is good wine. I understand where he’s coming from. This situation of living with my boss isn’t traditional either. Am I on the clock now or is this just a social call? I have free time to myself, and yet- This doesn’t feel forced. I’m actually enjoying myself. And judging by his nervous body language Mr. Fischer is too, he’s just too scared to admit it.

“I don’t mind. I’m up for some wine, no payment required.”

Robert’s eyes do little to hide both his excitement and slight fear. “Really?”

“Really. That is if you don’t mind the company, Mr. Fischer.”

He downs the rest of the drink and pours another glass. “I’ve played mind games before. Not a fan. I don’t let just anyone into my life.”

I’m not ‘anyone’ to him? A few months ago any pedestrian on the street would define me as ‘nobody.’ I only knew Robert for a mere ten minutes before he offered me a job. Either he’s quick to judge or his judgment is poor. There’s no half-assing it now. I’ve somehow proven to him that I’m a worthy escort, now I need to stay sharp for his business.

“Me neither. I will do my best, Mr. Fischer.”

He seems confused. “At the…?”

“At the meeting, yes.”

Recognition hits him and he nods, looking at the floor. Of course the meeting. What else would there be? I’ve got serious work to do if Robert is this shy during business meetings.

Last night’s sleep was… serviceable. The first three hours I spent tossing and turning, trying to ignore the eerie echoing of the giant empty house. City life always provides noise so the new atmosphere isn’t as comfortable as it seems. Finally I got fed up and searched for something to make noise and was blessed with a box fan hidden in a broom closet. Ten minutes later and I slept like the dead. However my beauty rest better hold up because so far I’ve hated every second of this meeting.

When Robert walked into the room with me in tow half the men waiting for us laughed. Once they were told I was here as a consultant they laughed even harder.

“Does your consultant do house calls?”

“I’d let her whisper in my ear.”

Disgusting. Relax, Margaret. You’re here to help Robert. It’s all business… right?

“As I was saying,” a Mr. Walker continues. “Walker and Co. has been losing funds for months now and my board agrees it’s best to partner with you. There’s just no oil left in our New Mexico drilling sites.”

New Mexico. Where did I hear that before? Oh! It was Justin! Last week, during my errand to the dry cleaners, he stopped to say hi. What did he say? Something about a new job… For Walker and Co.! There’s no way the company’s going bankrupt.

“Excuse me gentlemen. Mr. Fischer, there’s a call for you in the hall.”

Robert gets the hint and begins to stand-

“He can answer it later,” Walker interrupts. “This cannot wait.”

That bastard! “Very well. Sir, may I speak to you for a moment?” I grab Robert by the tie and pull him to the corner despite his strained protest.

“That’s not true,” I whisper and jerk my head towards Walker. “I’ve heard there’s plenty of oil in those parts.”

Mr. Fischer’s eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

“Word travels fast in the streets. People want jobs, they go to where the money is. In this case it’s oil. Walker’s mentioned to have a whole row of jobs lined up. I know because one of my friends just started working for him. He’s lying.”

Suddenly I hear someone get up and passive-aggressively pull me away. “Not now, honey. The adults are talking.”

My jaw drops but Robert is quicker to react.

“Don’t speak to her like that!” he barks with murder in his eyes.

Walker scoffs. “Why even have her here, Robert? She’s just a hooker-”

I lurch forward but Robert blocks me with his arm and jabs a finger at the jerk’s chest.

“Absolutely not! She is here for official business, and I will not allow you to talk about Ms. Chillinger that way.”

Now the rest of the men start jabbing at me.

“Do you like that, hm? Using your boss for prime luxury like this?” One man leans in with an accusing sneer.

“Get outta my face!” I shove him away.

“Oh-ho! There’s still some street talk in this one!” Walker snickers. “You like it rough, Robert.”

My eyes narrow and I make a performance to pull out my phone. “Do not tempt me. I could destroy your image in half a day.”

My threat hits him square in the chest but he doesn’t back down. “Oh really?”

I arch a brow. “Really. Ever heard of Phineas Brockowski? He’s a personal fan of mine and would be willing to die for an interview with Mr. Fischer. I could let it slip that a certain Mr. Walker makes weekly visits to strip clubs. Would your wife enjoy hearing that on the evening news?” I strike a nerve. A look of horror slips onto the man’s face and I smirk. “I didn’t think so. Now, it’s been quite a time having you here-” I push Walker away and herd the others to the door. “But I’m afraid it’s time for you gentlemen to leave. Anything to add, Mr. Fischer?”

Robert’s still glaring with a stern frown. “I refuse your offer. And for the record, if you ever insult her again I’ll see to it nobody ever does business with you again.”

The men try to re-appeal to our sympathy but I slam the door shut anyway. Immediately Robert lets out a groan and collapses in his chair, rubbing his temples.

“Margaret, I- I am so sorry. I thought bringing you here was a good idea-”

“No, it’s my fault sir. Mr. Browning’s right. I’m not nearly qualified-”

“No, no! You were perfect. It’s them. It wasn’t a good idea because- because…” He trails off and I see him trying to discreetly look me over. I look presentable, don’t I? I chose a blue blazer and knee-length skirt.

“They don’t take me seriously, do they?” I hang my head to hide my disappointment. “It’s alright. I’ll stick to galas and publicity stunts.” That’s what my job is originally. Why did I ever think I could do something more?

“No, wait. Margaret, I don’t want everyone to think you- you’re not dumb, you’re not an ordinary, um…”

 Obviously he means hooker but is too shy to say. God, this man’s innocence is adorable- Cut that out, Margaret! It’s those kinds of thoughts that do turn you into a dumb hooker!

“I know I’m not that, Mr. Fischer. But it’s alright if not everyone else does. Now, would you like something to drink? I know I do.”

I make a beeline for the minibar in the corner but Robert makes no requests.

“Alcohol doesn’t help. I need to keep my mind clear,” he mutters, still rubbing his head.

“How about painkillers? Meditation? Exercise?”

“Painkillers make me drowsy, meditation is too boring, and exercise makes me pass out.”

Hm. I’ll keep grasping at straws. “Maybe you need other methods of… coping with stress.”

This gets his attention. “Like what?”

“Um… Other escorts tell me some men prefer physical means of stress release.”

“Like a hand job?” Thank God I don’t have to elaborate on that.

“Yes.”

Surprisingly Robert still declines by shaking his head. “I don’t work like that. Besides, I'd never ask you to do something like that.”

I almost choke on my martini. My pulse snaps and I need to regain my thoughts. It’s just a misunderstanding, Margaret. “I didn’t mean for me to do it. I meant that you would hire a professional.” A real hooker.

“That’s out of the question.” Huh? “Like I said, I don’t let just anyone into my life. You’re all I need, Margaret.”

I- I am..? He really does appreciate what I do. Even if he does pay for it. Golly. It feels nice to feel wanted. That’s what’s causing the fluttering in my stomach. Get a grip! He’s your boss. You wouldn’t be doing a good job if he didn’t want you around. You’re supposed to look pleasing. You’re an escort! Stop thinking about what it might be like to- Just stop!

I down the rest of the drink and the alcohol’s sting snaps me back. “Will that- ah!”

I spin around too fast and trip over my feet, colliding with Robert and crashing to the floor. As if my heart wasn't racing already, it flies past the speed limit when I realize I’ve landed on Robert’s chest and his face is inches from mine. He’s much sturdier than I expected given his lanky build. His mouth is agape as well. We both freeze stiff as a board, completely unsure how to react. Those crystal eyes stare unblinking, almost daring me to go further. 

“S- Sorry,” I stutter and hastily roll off so we can each breathe. 

“‘S… It’s alright,” Mr. Fischer mutters, each of us still shocked.

I get up and help him stand, brushing off the accident as if it was nothing and start dusting off his coat.

“W-What are you doing?” he stiffens but doesn’t try to move away, trying to avoid my eyes.

“Can’t have the CEO of Fischer Morrow walking around like he just stumbled through a wind tunnel,” I speak smoothly and adjust his tie. A tie that I could use to pull him- Knock it off, Margaret! “Will that be all, Mr. Fischer?”

Robert’s still staring down at me. “Hm? Oh, yes. That’s all. Thank you.”

“I will return home-” I catch myself. “To your home, and prepare for tomorrow’s brunch.”

“Very good. I’ll be home shortly.”

Before I leave I give him a sincere look of worry. “Don’t overwork yourself, Mr. Fischer.”

A few hours later I notice an extra five grand in my bank account. God, Robert. I feel bad enough taking your money while you’ve also let me live in your house rent free. 

Spring cream suit, brown loafers… Will Robert look better with a blue or green tie? Blue, to go with his eyes. Now I just need to check the reservation-

“What are you doing?”

I flinch and nearly drop my clipboard. Jeez, this house is quiet! I didn’t even hear Robert come in. And… he’s caught me looking in his closet. It’s a very organized one, I’ll give him that. The other thing I didn't expect was for him to be a fan of building models. All over his room there’s shelves and shelves of miniature models. Cars, planes, everything. I didn’t mean to intrude but he can’t blame me for planning ahead! 

“Well, um… I wanted to make sure my dress matched your suit so I-”

“So you decided to pick out a suit for me,” Fischer finishes.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly and lower my head. “Please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to pry, I swear.”

He sets down his briefcase and walks over. First I crash into him, now he thinks I’m snooping in his closet! He’s going to slap me-!

“I’m not mad, Margaret.” Huh? “You don’t need permission to come in here. I think the suit you picked is perfect.”

“R-Really? I thought it was appropriate for the flower display we’ll be sitting by.” Relief floods through my veins. This man would never hurt a fly!

“A very good choice, Margaret,” Robert compliments as he examines the attire I’ve laid out, looking up with those gorgeous eyes and somehow getting caught in mine.

No, not again. Keep this professional. He’s your boss! He pays for you! For whatever reason my face is good enough for ten grand, so that’s why I’m here.

I’m the first one to look away, gripping my clipboard tighter. “Will that be all, Mr. Fischer?”

The man blinks and shakes his head, seeming to clear himself from a deep thought. “Yes. Yes, Margaret.”

I slip past him and gently close the door. “Goodnight, sir.”

His soft eyes don’t leave mine. “Goodnight.”

God, this job is getting to my head, I pray as I shed my blazer for a comfortable sleep shirt and shorts. I don’t care what others’ say, no expensive nightwear compares to a worn sleepshirt. And it’s no use buying things like lingerie anyway. I never understood that. Why would girls pay hundreds for scraps of fabric that men will rip off anyway? If anything a simple nightdress can be just as attractive. Not that I have anyone who would care. 

Robert might care… If it goes with my dresses, that is. Would he? Would it be assuring to know that I can upkeep appearances under the hood as well? No. It’s not worth getting my head wrapped around that puzzle. It’s for the better that I save up and… Then what? Apart from my employment with Mr. Fischer I have nothing. Once I thought that maybe I’d see the world after I’d saved enough but now there’s no point. Robert’s business has flown me to all corners of the globe. Ireland, Greece, Australia, Japan, Mexico. In the past four months he’s given me a lifetime of an adventure. Since that’s crossed off the list… I don’t know. I suppose I’ll just keep working for him until I get too old to be a worthwhile escort or he gets married-

Thump!

The noise jolts me from my half-asleep state. That’s not normal. This house is quest enough to hear a pin drop. Would anyone try to break in?

I slip out of the covers of my giant king-sized bed and creep over to look out into the hallway.

Thump!

That came from Robert’s room!

I throw away all manner of caution and sprint down the wood floor, heaving the heavy door open. Thank God it’s not locked! Now where’s Robert? He’s not in his bed. There’s no sign of a break-in. Where could he-?

“Margaret?” A small voice comes from the floor.

My head snaps around to find the man huddling on the floor next to his bed.

“Mr. Fischer! I thought there was a robbery! Are you ok?!” 

I kneel down and search for injuries. There’s no physical sign of distress but Robert’s frantic behavior paired with how he’s shaking leads me to believe something isn’t right.

“C-Can’t sleep- Nightmare.” He tries to wave me off. “J-just go.” 

That’s the end, Margaret. You can’t help if he doesn’t want it-

 “No wait!”

I freeze midstep from walking away, my heart clenching at his choked up words. 

“Stay? Please, please… stay,” Robert says softly. Is he asking or ordering me to? Would this be part of my job?

“You know the terms of our contract-”

“I know. Just- just need someone to…” His frightened eyes silently plead and I know this isn’t business.

He doesn’t need an escort or any other employee. He needs someone who cares. Someone to chase away whatever demons he’s seeing and provide comfort.

“Calm down,” I take Robert’s shaking hand and help him get back into his bed, choosing to sit on the edge. “I’ll stay here, just relax.”

Robert finally closes his eyes and lays his head on the pillow. “Thank you… thank you…”

This doesn’t seem to be covered by the job description but I can’t leave him. What kind of person would I be if I left him like this?

“I- I’ll pay for your time-”

I shake my head and put a hand on his chest to stop him. “This is off the clock, Mr. Fischer. Money’s not important right now. You need to sleep.”

I can’t let the CEO of Fischer Morrow get sleep-deprived. Not only as an employer but as a friend. Yes, a friend. Nothing more.

In the dark his eyes open again and I see the tension in his face melt away. “Call me Robert. Since it’s off the clock.”

Then he falls asleep. His hand goes limp in mine and he finally starts breathing steadily. He must be really tired to fall asleep this fast. That was too close. Too close, Margaret. You’re letting your heart get you in over your head. Robert must still be processing memories of his father. He needs a proper therapist. That’s what I’ll suggest to Mr. Browning tomorrow.

Robert shifts in his sleep and half-pulls me into the bed with him. Uh-Oh. As much as I want to fulfill my promise I also don’t want to leave us both in what might look like a compromising position. Maybe- Bingo! I grab the extra pillows and create a makeshift barrier between us. A better look at Robert shows me his own sleep attire is only shorts and a loose tank top. Guess we both have similar tastes. As sleep looms over me again I can’t help but notice my heart skip a beat every time Robert squeezes my hand.

“He had another nightmare?” Browning asks the next morning.

“Another?” I look up from the eggs I’m cooking. “You mean they’re consistent?”

Mr. Fischer’s godfather nods and sips his coffee. “Even before his father passed. And he let you stay with him?”

My cheeks flush and I keep my eyes focused on the eggs. “Yes. I assure you I had no hidden intentions. Mr. Fischer didn’t want to be alone. He should talk to a therapist about these if they’re not going away.”

He’s still sleeping and it’s already 10 a.m. I slipped away without waking him and decided it was best to let him sleep. That brunch meeting can afford to be postponed.

“It may not be my place to say this, but it’s in Robert’s best interest.” Mr. Browning pauses. Here we go. “I’m glad he chose you.”

I blink in confusion and fold the eggs onto a plate. “Um, thanks?”

The older man doesn't look away, continuing to analyze me with consideration. “You may not be the politician wife his father hoped for, but he loves you. Robert is happy with you.”

Love? In my surprise the plate slips from my hands and shatters across the floor. Oh no, no. 

“Sir, he doesn’t love me. He’s a very nice boss, but that’s all,” I stutter and make haste to find a broom. A politician wife?

“Ms. Chillinger- Margaret, surely you’ve noticed that Robert can be a complicated man. He’s been less stressed since you started working. Robert has always been afraid of pleasing people. His father, the press. He never let many women into his life.”

“Then why did he look for an escort?” I whisper and clean up the rest of my mess, my heart racing and tears beginning to blur my vision. What’s happening?

“You know as well as I that half of this business is playing the game of show,” Browning explains. “Showing the cars, the suits, the women. Robert knew he would need a woman to keep up with appearances. When I offered to find him a professional escort he denied and was determined to choose one himself. The next day he came by with you.”

On my knees I keep my head hung and try to piece together anything logical. “I- I’m not even a real escort.”

“You’re not a traditional escort, no. But that’s a good thing.” I hear the godfather get up and walk over to kneel next to me, not speaking until I look up to face him. “He told me about how you protect him. Not every woman does that. I’m glad he found you, Ms. Chillinger. Robert is in good hands.”

We both stay like this for a few minutes, each exchanging a silent understanding. I’ve done what every woman’s dreamt of. At the same time I’ve earned the godfather’s blessing and the heart of Robert Fischer. 

“Everything ok?”

We both look up. Robert’s awake and is looking down at the broken glass. He put on a light robe over himself but its loose knot still shows part of his toned chest underneath the tank top.

“I- It’s my fault, Mr. Fischer. I was careless enough to drop a plate,” I speak as evenly as I can while trying to not look away.

“Her eggs make up for it. Definitely a keeper.” Mr. Browning backs me up and I see him give me a wink.

This flies right past Robert, who’s still waking up. “What time-? Oh God!”

“Relax, relax.” My nerves get thrown out and I switch into business mode, putting my hands on his shoulders to calm him. “I called ahead and postponed the meeting. Your sleep is more important.”

He looks down at my hands and his eyes tell me he remembers last night. “Um, th-thanks. For, um, yeah…”

“Don’t mention it, Mr. Fischer. What matters now is that you’re rested. Now eat.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Robert digs into my plate of eggs like it’s his last meal on death row. Browning and I exchange looks as if to say ‘he needs a break.’ The godfather excuses himself without a word and exits through the side door. Is he leaving us alone on purpose? He mentioned the word wife. Is that term used lightly or should I be concerned? 

“So- what else- is- going on today?” Robert asks between bites.

“There’s a press meeting at the park.”

“Nah.”

I look up and do a double-take. “Excuse me?”

Robert takes another bite. “What else?”

He’s never turned down a scheduled event. “Um… that’s it. Unless there’s a last-minute call from New York-”

“It can wait. What do you want to do?” Robert asks once he’s done eating.

My eyes widen and I point to myself. “Me? My vote doesn’t count, Mr. Fischer. If this is to bribe me for not telling about the nightmares it’s completely unnecessary-”

“It’s not exactly that,” Robert replies, setting his fork down and looking over at me. “I- I want to thank you, properly. For doing that. What would you like to do today? Anything. Anything at all.” Anything…

“You’ve already helped me knock so many things off my bucket list,” I think out loud. “Well… There’s something, but it isn’t a normal request.”

Robert takes my hand and I can’t help but look up at his hypnotizing eyes. “Anything.”

Today is officially marked as one of the best days of my life. My unusual request was granted unquestionably by Robert and he seems to have enjoyed it just as much. I got to see my top favorite band! Not just to watch, no. I got to meet them! I’m still not sure if it was real. The only thing reminding me it was real is that Robert was with me.

“Thank you, Mr. Fischer! Thank you so much!” I say for the billionth time as we ride the jet home.

“So you’ve mentioned!” The dark-haired man laughs as he pours out some drinks.

“I’m serious! That was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me!”

He takes a sip and looks at me with content. “It’s cute to see you so passionate about something.”

The term cute almost flies past me but my overstimulated mind still catches it. Robert must have too because he looks away and busies himself by checking his phone. We fall into a comfortable silence and when the plane lands Daniel is waiting for us once again. Back at the mansion it doesn’t seem so empty now that Robert’s laughter rings through the halls. Browning’s right, he’s much less stressed now than when I first met him. 

It’s late but I feel no urge to retire yet. We reach the kitchen and suddenly I’m blinded by two hands over my eyes.

“Mr. Fischer! What’s going on?” I giggle pathetically like a schoolgirl.

Behind me I hear him breathing through a smile as he leads me over to the grand living room. “There’s one last thing I wanted to give you,” he says mischievously.

God, Robert. There’s only so much I can take from you, only so much until it’s too much. What else can he possibly-? 

“Ta-da.” Robert pulls his hands away and I’m facing the living room. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary… “Check the cup holder.”

His words draw my attention to the couch cup holders. I peer down and-

“Oh Robert,” I breathe. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

The silver key feels cold against my hand, a simple keyring with the Rolls Royce logo etched in blue. So small and yet so thoughtful that I almost drop it.

“You mentioned that you’re not used to being driven to work. Now you can drive yourself instead of relying on Daniel. Be more independent, as you would say. And you’ve talked about always wanting a vintage Rolls Royce.”

“Rob- Mr. Fischer, I cannot accept this.”

His face falls. Did I do something wrong? Shouldn’t he be glad I’m not draining his money? 

“I’m- sorry if I offended you,” Robert says softly. Offended me?

“How could you offend me? You don’t understand.” My hands start shaking and I feel everything bottling up from the past months start to spill. “I don’t come from money, I- I’m not used to just pulling out a plastic card to pay for things like this. A freaking car?”

Despite my frazzled outburst Robert remains calm. “I know.”

“Then don’t take offense when I decline these things, Mr. Fischer. This job? This house you let me live in?” I gesture to our surroundings. “That’s been more than enough for payment.”

“I wanted to make up for having to put you through it. The job.” Robert approaches me slowly to show no harm with hidden guilt in his eyes. He must be disturbed by my job but still needs me to keep up appearances.

I take a deep breath and use a gentler tone. “That’s no problem anymore. I have a thick skin, I can handle it. What I can’t handle is seeing you unhappy when those bastards try to push you around. That’s why you need me.”

That came out wrong. I know I struck something because Robert’s soft gaze has been replaced with a look of provocation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks in a low voice.

“I- You, um…” How do I break it to a grown man that he needs more confidence?

“Go on, say it!” Robert taunts in a slightly shaking voice. “I need a spine, don’t I? You think I don’t know that?! I know I’m helpless without money! If I was tossed to the streets I’d be dead in a week, if that.”

I’ve backed myself against the couch. This is the first time Mr. Fischer’s raised his voice to me. Why is he so upset about this? I’m trying to help him! But if he’s not going to accept it then I can’t make him.

“I’m not a secretary and I’m not a therapist. If you need one, hire one,” I speak in a low warning voice and move around to edge towards the door. “Don’t pile this on me.”

“You aren’t a secretary, and you’re more than just an escort.” Robert clutches his head and stutters what I think is an explanation. “I needed- I need someone to keep me in check with reality. And it’s you.”

Good heavens. I’ve seen Robert look intimidated before but never heard him sound this affectionate. My legs turn to stone and I give in to ignore the urge to run away as Robert walks closer, reaching his arms out to gently grab my shoulders. I could drown in those eyes forever… He steps closer and our chests meet. I’ve been held by Robert dozens of times for publicity. This time is different. It’s intimate, more… softer. And… I like it. Is that wrong?

Lost deep in this thought I hardly notice Robert leaning his head in. It’s not until his soft lips ghost against mine that my body goes even stiffer. My lips. We’ve never kissed on the lips. 

“You can leave if you don’t feel comfortable,” Robert whispers, lips still leasing mine. “This isn’t a part of the contract-”

“I’m not thinking about the contract.”

Strength returns to my arms and before I can control myself I push him to the wall. We both stare unblinking at each other for what seems like eternity; silently arguing with ourselves about this contradicting matter. Out of nowhere a hidden feeling that’s been building up inside me sparks to life in my eyes. Robert sees it too and finally closes the gap. 

It’s instant energy. As if on instinct I push harder and feel his arms wrap around my waist. Robert Fischer, you’ve been hiding in plain sight. All this time I’ve been escorting him and this is what I’m missing… He may look shy but Robert is a brilliant kisser. Soft and slow and yet full of desperate fire and passion. 

“I want this- Oh God.” What am I doing?!

I pull off and jump away as if being doused with ice water. What have I done? I just kissed my boss!

“This isn’t supposed to be real,” I stutter, shaking my head trying to convince myself this isn’t right. “This is supposed to be professional.”

But Robert does not see my attempts at logic. Instead his sad face looks as if I just slapped him. “You’ve been a wonderful- a fantastic escort. And I- I want more…”

My nerves quelch. “If you’re suggesting prostitution-”

“No!” He answers quickly.

“So… a promotion?”

Robert shakes his head and his eyes squeeze shut. “God Margaret, I’m in love with you.”

Love. There’s that word again. The spoken word binds itself into my heart and my head is spinning.

“You never took me for a man who falls in love… I don’t fully understand the concept of love.” I chuckle at my own confession. “I’ve had offers, I could have been married at this point. But I wanted to do what I wanted in life without having a relationship to hold me back.” I scoff and look down at myself, a complicated mix of frustration and sadness swelling through my chest. “And now look how far those dreams got me. I’m an escort.”

Robert approaches once more. “You’re my escort. You’re even more to me than that.”

“But you paid me to do it! Money can’t buy love.”

“Then explain why you just had me against the wall with the biggest erection I’ve ever had in my life.”

My jaw drops. I-?

“You could have left at any time. There’s something you feel, I know it.” Robert grabs my hand and puts it to his chest. “I feel it too, Margaret. I have for a few weeks now. I love you.”

His words cause tears to sting my eyes and I try to stay strong. “How can you be sure? How do you know it’s not just your testosterone talking?”

Despite the instinct to look away I keep Robert’s gaze as he pulls me back to the couch. Those soft eyes have grown determined. He’s not bluffing.

“This isn’t a one-time thing, Margaret. I know because there is no other woman who’s made me feel this. You’re the only woman I want in my life, for the rest of my life.” We both sit down and he’s still holding my hand. “Do you want me to prove it?”

Prove. Have these past months not said enough? All these gifts? Or was it all a transaction? Maybe some proof is in order-

“I need you to tell me,” Robert interrupts my thoughts, his face inches from mine.

I don’t hesitate again and nod. “Yes.” God, yes.

And he does prove it. Not through his kind words or affectionate actions but through something I can’t quite explain… Like an unseen energy. Robert’s soft touch lays me back on the cushion and peppers sweet kisses down my neck. All I can do is lie still and stare up at the high ceiling.

“How can you fall in love with someone like me?” 

“Huh?” Robert pants to catch his breath.

“We both come from very different worlds, Robert-”

“If you’re trying to say I can’t love you because you’re not rich, that’s a complete lie.” He hugs me close and can’t seem to stop looking at me. “God… How are you real?”

“You paid for it, you tell me,” I half-joke. But Robert doesn’t see any humor in it.

“If finance was off the record would you still love me?”

I pull on his tie and don’t blink. “Without question. I never want you to think my love for you comes with a price tag.” Now it’s my turn to press a kiss to his soft lips. “This is me, Robert. Loving you.”

“I want this,” he breathes, his eyes closed in bliss. “I want us.”

“Then you can have me. Or at least what’s left of me. I’ll be yours, Robert.”

Boss or no boss, I love him more deeply than any man I’ve ever met. Everything I’ve imagined seems possible. What it’s like to kiss, to feel loved…

Robert slides lower and nuzzles his head against my bust, using my chest as a pillow. No man’s ever done this to me and I don’t want him to stop. If I’m the rock he needs to stay sane then he’s my own as well.

“God, you’re here…” Robert’s voice is muffled by my shirt.

“And I’m all yours,” I speak for him, running a hand through his soft hair.

This gets a moan from him. “You’re all mine… Good thing I was there to catch you when you fell.”

All those months ago. In the pouring rain.

“I did fall for you, Robert. I’ve been falling for you for a long time, and I was completely oblivious to it.” 

When he looks up at me again his face is painted with unquestioning devotion. I’ve never seen him smile so wide. Just looking at his happiness would give any person a reason to live for. 

Another thing he said clings to the back of my thoughts.”Did I really make you go hard?”

Immediately Robert’s face goes bright red but he muscles through and nods. “Absolutely. I- I fell for you too. And, in the possible near future, if you ever feel like falling a little harder…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” I smirk.

His eyes nearly bulge out and his body starts shaking. “Really? Oh, Margaret. Th-thank you!”

I smile sweetly down at him and shake my head teasingly. “You are such a simp.”

“Hey!” Robert shows mock offense and rolls us over on the couch so he’s on the bottom. “You know I’m a people pleaser.”

“Yes, you definitely are,” I giggle. 

“Well then-” Suddenly Robert wraps his arms around me and hoists me up. “How about now?”

My breath hitches. “N-Now? I- Um…”

Robert’s face falls and we both blush. “We don’t have to- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable-”

“No, no,” I groan and bury my head in his chest. “It’s not that. I’m just not… too experienced. I can pull off an escort charade easily but don’t actually know much about… you know. Whatever you might expect me to do I’m not sure I can.”

I feel Robert’s warm hands gently rub my back and pull me closer (if that’s even possible). 

“Margaret, I don’t expect anything. I just want to love you. Want to show just how much you mean to me. I-” He swallows nervously and I slowly look up to reach his eyes. “I don’t know too much either.”

How can a man this sweet exist? Never did I ever think a man would be willing to care this much. He needs my street smarts. Now it’s time for both of us to learn something new.

“Then let’s learn it together,” I whisper and his grip on me tightens. 

“Yes- Please. Please.”

In one swift motion I’m lifted up and carried bridal-style through the drafty halls. Through the kitchen, up the stairs, down the hall. To Robert’s room. Laid down on the soft sheets. When I look up Robert’s adorable face is smiling down at me. Nervous, but excited.

“R-Ready?”

I feel underdressed (or overdressed?) for the occasion in my plain gray slacks and red blazer. But that doesn’t matter now. I meet his eyes again and give a determined nod.

“I’m all yours, Robert. Always have been.”

Wake up…

My eyes fly open and I burst awake. Where am I? Someone’s next to me-! Oh.

Even in his sleep Robert looks absolutely to die for. Apparently the nightmares haven’t plagued him tonight because he’s sleeping sweet as an angel; breathing softly and clinging to me like a human pillow. How can I squeeze out-?

“Hm?” Robert begins to stir.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. I was just getting up-”

“No you’re not.” Robert sits up and pulls me back down, kissing my ear. “Not yet.” We lay for a few seconds in comfortable silence. “Last night… How was…?”

Last night. My body’s still aching from the memory, one I want to relive over and over. 

“Robert. Last night was magnificent.”

He sighs in relief and gets a naughty smirk. “So there may be a chance for a follow-up?”

I grin wickedly. “It’s already in the books.”

“Oh really? So when is it?” Robert asks, playing along.

“Anytime you want, Robert.”

This surprises him and his eyes widen. “Wha- Really?”

“Yes. If each time is going to be like last night I don’t want to waste a second.”

“Well then-” He pecks my lips and rubs a thumb across my cheek. “Round two?”

“Robert!” I chuckle. “We can’t stay here forever.” A new thought hits me. “Oh no. When’s the-?”

“The first meeting isn’t until ten,” Robert replies and rests snugly against my chest. “We can stay here for a while longer.”

I roll my eyes. “Alright then, mister clingy. What time is it now?”

He lifts his head. “Shit! It’s already nine-!”

He jumps as if he’s been electrocuted and tries to scramble out of the twisted sheets.

“Calm down.” I pull him steady and make him face me. “I already pressed your suit, it’s laid out in the bathroom. I called Daniel last night and told him to pick you up this morning. He’s on his way.”

“God, you’re an angel!” Robert praises and stands up. “Thank you, sweetheart!”

“No trouble. What I need from you is for you to stop stressing yourself out. I can’t fight all your battles.”

Something about Robert’s face tells me what I said has him thinking. This is not the time for thinking.

“Get going before your brain catches fire,” I shoo him off. “There’s leftover egg casserole in the fridge. Will you need me for any events today, Mr. Fischer?”

That sounds off. We both think so. We each stare at each other, trying to decide how to proceed. When do I acknowledge him as my boss? Will this relationship be made public? God, I hope not. Then all the tales spun by the media will have come true.

“Y-You’re going to be late,” I finally break the silence. “Better get cleaned up.”

“Right. Yeah…” 

Robert walks to the bathroom, still looking confused, and gives me the cue to go find my own outfit for the day. Things are just getting started…

“I’m home!” Robert calls from the door.

I look up from reading American Prometheus and rush down the stairs. All day I haven’t gotten a call to come in so I’ve been trying to find things to keep myself busy. A maid already came in to clean and there’s enough prepped food, so the only thing left was reading.

“How was the office?” I ask after pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Boring. It’s far better when you’re there.”

“Then call me in,” I shrug. “That’s partly why I’m here. For the business, and you.”

“Right. That. Um…” Robert grabs my hand and looks around. “I should- Let’s talk in the living room.”

I don’t question it. We both can feel the unanswered questions clinging to the air. Robert leads me to the couch and sits me down, never taking his eyes off me.

“By now you know how my life works,” he starts.

“Yes.”

“And you know that somewhere down the line I need a wife.”

Just like Browning said. A politician wife.

I nod. “Yes.”

Robert copies my nod and runs a hand through his hair, getting more and more shaky. “I was just- planning ahead. And, um, if you might refuse I understand that you wouldn’t want to keep working for me if I was married-”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Robert. I will marry you.”

The man doesn’t speak. He just keeps staring at me with his mouth wide open. I’m incredibly frazzled myself. God, I hope I didn’t misread the situation. Was that the answer he was looking for?

“That is what you’re asking, isn’t it?” I ask hesitantly.

Robert, still staring, slowly nods his head. “You’d want to marry me? Be my wife?”

His wife. Mrs. Margaret Fischer. The title of being wife to the CEO of Fischer Morrow doesn’t stand out. It’s the title of being Robert’s wife that catches me. To be the one he trusts, the one he turns to during sleepless nights. To see his sweet face every day until I grow old.

“I love you so much, Robert.” I cup his face in my hands and we both try to ignore the tears in each other’s eyes. “I would love to be your wife.”

By now we’re both shaking. Not from distress or fear but bubbling happiness. He asked me. Of all people, me. To be his wife.

“I know this is all very sudden,” he whispers. “So if we want to ease into doing anything…”

“Yes, that- That’s the logical thing to do.” Finally! My brain is working again. “Would- Do you want the engagement to be made public? Or wait until after the wedding? Oh God. My parents are going to faint-!”

“Hey, hey.” Robert takes my hands, a smile growing on his face. “This isn't something to stress about. This is a happy thing, Margaret. The happiest moment of my life!”

My own smile spreads across my lips and I lean up to kiss him again. “That makes two of us.”

[aalissy]

Made for Each Other

So sorry I missed yesterday's chapter! I was tired after work haha. I hope you enjoy the two chapters I have for today tho! Lemme know what you think <3.

AO3

“Here you go, minou,” Marinette murmured, sliding a bag of warm croissants over to him before their lecture began. “A little something to help you get through the day.”

As Adrien beamed up at her from the small gift she had given, Marinette couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken her to realize he was Chat Noir. Now that she knew it just seemed so obvious. The goofy little puns, the same adorable smiles, his boyish charm. It was all just so... so him.  

At the time, though, when Marinette had seen Chat detransform into Adrien it felt like her entire world had shattered. How was it possible that she had been rejecting the person she loved because of well... the person she loved? It was just ridiculous.

And, to make matters worse, it took her even less time to realize that her love for Adrien had only grown since their reveal. She loved both sides of him. The goofy partner she got to see at patrol and the bestest friend she had ever had. 

But, even more unfortunately, she didn’t think Adrien felt entirely the same way about their reveal. Marinette could only assume that his little crush on Ladybug had disappeared when he realized that it was her. His just a friend.  

And, while that hurt more than anything, she didn’t blame him. She’d rather have him as her friend than have him not in her life at all.

When Adrien tugged her down into his arms, though, Marinette couldn’t help squeaking with surprise and pure joy. A shiver ran up her spine as he embraced her, his lips brushing against her cheek. 

Oh, how she wished that kiss had brushed just a little closer to her lips. She buried that desire, though, choosing to be content with the warm tingling left on her cheek where his lips had been.

“Thank you, Marinette. Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” His beam grew even wider as his bright green eyes gleamed up at her.

“Mmm, maybe once or twice,” she hummed, feeling her face flush with happiness. “But it never hurts to hear again.”

Adrien threw his head back in a beautiful laugh. Her gaze was drawn to his long neck and she was struck with a strong urge to kiss him just along his jaw. He leaned back up and not for the first time, Marinette was extremely grateful that he couldn’t read her mind.

“Well, then you’re the best.” He winked, obviously having no idea the effect that this had on her heart which was suddenly beating wildly in her chest.

Luckily, Marinette was saved from what was sure to be a steady stammering of nonsense as a book clapped down on the desk above them. She looked up at Alya gratefully, thankful that her best friend had saved her from a whirl of embarrassment before she saw the look in her eyes. 

Oh no.  

That was not the look of her savior. That was the look of someone who was dooming her to eternal damnation. 

“You two are so sweet,” Alya chuckled, pointing her finger between the two of them. “Seriously, has anyone told you that you’re made for each other?”

Marinette choked, her mouth gaping open at her friend’s words. Seriously, was she trying to kill her? 

Floundering for something to say that wouldn’t completely reveal her awkward crush on the boy she had been in love with for years, she was interrupted by Adrien saying something that her head swiveling to stare at him in utter shock.

“Mmm, I may have said something like that myself once or twice.” He chuckled, grinning up at Alya like he hadn’t just completely shattered her worldview.

“Oh, you have... have you?” Alya raised a brow pointedly at Marinette, obviously asking a silent question like why she hadn’t acted on this.

“W-well y-yeah b-but that was such a long time ago.” She laughed loudly and awkwardly, wincing at the pitch of her tone. “W-we’re just friends!”

Alya’s brow rose even higher as she glanced over at Adrien. Marinette briefly peeked over at him as well, surprised to see that he looked almost... disappointed. 

Disappointed? But why? What did he have to be disappointed about? He was the one who had given up on her. He was the one who had completely ceased all flirting! If anyone was going to be disappointed it should be her!  

And yet, as fast as the look had crossed his face, it disappeared, leaving her wondering if it had ever even been there in the first place.

“Yep! We’re best buds!” Adrien chirped, bringing his head closer to hers.

Alya grinned knowingly, clearly seeing through Marinette's attempt to downplay her feelings. "Sure, sure, best buds who blush like tomatoes around each other."

At that, the two of them both turned bright red. Slowly, Marinette got up, trying to hide her face with her hair as she slid into her seat. 

“That’s unkind, Alya.” Adrien pointed out with a frown, shaking his head. She was unable to hide her wince. “Marinette doesn’t see me that way and that’s alright.”

Instantly Alya barked out a laugh as Marinette whipped her head up to stare at him in surprise. 

“W-what are you talking about?” she choked out.

“Don’t worry, Marinette.” He gave her a gentle smile that had her mind whirling with confusion. “I understand. Your friendship means everything to me.”

“No, but...,” she started before shaking her head. “This isn’t about my feelings. You gave up on me.”

Adrien stared up at her like she had lost her mind. “No, I didn’t. You never felt the same way.”

Marinette scoffed, crossing her arms against her chest. “Yes, I did! I always loved you. Didn’t you see the way I blushed and stammered around you?! It was obvious.”

His eyes had softened considerably as he stared up at her. He slowly shook his head. “Not to me.”

Her face flushed as she realized what she had inevitably blurted out. Clearing her throat to try and wash away some of the embarrassment, she hurriedly tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her hair. “Yes, well... um anyway.”

There was a long pause before Adrien whispered so softly it had Marinette’s heart squeezing painfully. “Do you... do you still feel this way?”

Marinette's heart skipped a beat at Adrien's question. She felt a rush of emotions flood through her—hope, fear, longing—all tangled together in a chaotic mess.

"I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to move on, to see you as just a friend, but... it's not that easy."

Adrien's gaze was intense, searching her eyes as if trying to decipher her every thought and feeling. "Marinette, I've never stopped caring about you. Maybe I didn't understand your feelings before, but now... now I think I do."

Alya watched the exchange with a knowing smile, sensing that something significant was happening between her two friends.

Marinette took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "Adrien, I do still have feelings for you. I've tried to hide them, even from myself, but they've always been there."

"Then maybe we should stop pretending and see where this takes us," Adrien murmured.

Marinette looked into his eyes, seeing a sincerity and vulnerability that mirrored her own. "Yes... yes please," she whispered back.

Alya let out a delighted squeal, earning a playful glare from Marinette. But underneath the teasing, she couldn't contain the happiness bubbling up inside her. Alya had been right. They really were made for each other.