#I suppose the tag can make an appearance for today

[virgil-isnt-a-lee]

Bro me too-

I am in THE WORST LEE MOOD RN ITS HORRIFIC

[humanjarvis]

good heart

synopsis: zayne wonders if he’s mean. you reassure him otherwise.

tags: fluff. comfort. zayne is self-conscious and cute  pairing: zayne x reader word count: 641

a/n: surprise (not rly) first zayne fic :] it’ll be interesting seeing how i want to write him since i’m probably the most similar to him irl #neurodivergence. also posting the most depraved and fluffiest things i’ve ever written in the same week who said versatility

“Darling, have I ever been…mean to you?” Zayne asks hesitantly.

You’re cuddled on his sofa with your knees resting against him, halfheartedly watching a nature documentary. Brilliant rays of afternoon sunlight pour in through the floor-length windows, drawing most of your attention away from the grasslands and toward the trio of squirrels leaping over leaves in Zayne’s backyard. At his question, you raise your head from its place on his shoulder, squinting at him playfully. 

“Hmm,” you draw out, as if actually taking the time to consider his question. He blinks at you. “Nope! A little impassive, sometimes, sure,” you grin, poking his adorably neutral face. “But never mean.”

He forces out a weak smile at your teasing, gently lowering his gaze to your intertwined hands. 

When you don’t receive the usual politely packaged retort, you furrow your brows in worry. “Why do you ask? What’s wrong?” 

Still fixated on your interlaced fingers, Zayne clears his throat. “At the hospital today,” he starts, “one of the younger patients said I was…mean.” He bites the word out as if it tastes bad, the mere association of it with his character destabilizing his being. 

Perplexed, you unclasp your hand from his to lift his chin. “What happened?” 

“All I did was tell her that if she wants to feel better, she’ll need to take her medicine daily.” Now it’s your turn to blink at him. “Perhaps it was the tone I used, I’m not sure. I haven’t encountered this before.” 

Deep in thought, he moves to bow his head again, unconsciously avoiding your gaze out of unwarranted guilt. With a frown, you grab his face between your hands before that can happen, climbing over his lap to straddle him. 

“The Zayne I know is worried that doing his job makes him mean?” you ask, peering into his startled hazel eyes. “C’mon, Zaynie, she was probably just being stubborn. You of all people should know what it’s like to avoid taking medicine.” Lifting his top lip as if to inspect his teeth, you drive your point home when he flinches away. As his face flushes pink, you feel his cheeks warm under your hands.

“I’m aware that children…and adults…are hesitant to follow doctor’s orders at times,” he says, clearing his throat. “But I also know I'm not the most…expressive of people. I’ve gotten so used to behaving freely when I’m with you that I wasn’t monitoring my mannerisms in the pediatric ward today. I must have appeared quite intimidating to a vulnerable child. The thought made me uncomfortable. It made me wonder if…I’d ever made you feel that way as well,” he grimaces.

With a fond sigh, you tilt his face up to yours to kiss his nose. This time, his blink is slow and confused. 

“The only one you're being mean to is yourself,” you start, pinching his cheeks lightly. “No matter what’s on your face or in your voice, I know what’s in here,” you say, placing a firm palm over his chest. “You wouldn’t be Dr. Zayne without your directness. You wouldn’t be my Zaynie, either. And I happen to like both versions of him very much.” 

As you press another kiss to his nose, the corners of his full lips quirk up. “I suppose I should be nicer to him, then.”

“You’d better. Or else he’ll have to write ‘I am nice. I am kind. I have a good heart’ over and over again until he understands. Surgeons don’t have time for that.” 

“I'm sure I possess the cardiovascular fitness to work it into my schedule,” he quips. “I have a good heart, after all.”

As the joke lands, you give him an exaggerated wince, removing a hand from his smiling face to fake a retch. “Okay, maybe I was wrong. Subjecting me to that? That was a little mean.”

[loverindeepspace]

Is That My Shirt? // Caleb x Reader

Hi ya'll, it's been a while. The writer's block hit me hard, but I finally managed to write something again so this is for the Caleb girlies. He finally came home for this new banner so he gets a lil treat. Concept: (Pre-realtionship) You take the first step and kiss him first. Tags: Fluff, slightly suggestive, pre-relationship, first kiss, first make out session, rip veggies they died for a greater cause, references to past cards and myth, fem!reader, Pipsqueak used a couple of times. Word Count: 1507 Masterlist

“Pips, how many times will you keep bringing that up? I said I’ll make it up to you.” Caleb sighs as he follows you into your apartment, eyeing the coffee stain on the side of your shirt. 

“Hmmm I suppose I can let it go now, you’ll be cooking dinner for me afterall.” You glance at him, a smug smile on your lips as you lead him into your apartment. 

“Yeah yeah, I’m at your service today, My Lady.” He gives you a mocking bow, exasperation playing on his features.

“That’s a good butler, you go start on that dinner, I’ll go get changed.” You pat his cheek gently with a laugh, before making your way to your room.

“Yes ma’am.” A laugh escapes Caleb’s lips. Shaking his head slightly, he steps into the kitchen, letting himself get lost in thought as he starts prepping the food.

It’s been some time now since you last saw each other, so when he found out that both of you had the day off, he jumped at the opportunity to see you, making the trip to Linkon without a second thought. The two of you have started to take steps to mend what was broken now that some time has passed after everything that happened in Skyhaven. You have started to come to terms with the fact that the Caleb from your childhood and this new side of him were the same person, and it made it easier in a way, to interact with him, to forgive him. The joy that burst from his chest when you reached out to him again was incomparable to anything he’s ever felt before, and the more time you spent together, the more that joy blazed through him. With every call, every text, every shared smile, he felt closer to you. He wanted to badly, to reach out, to hold you, to kiss you.

But he did enough damage in the past, he needed to suppress the intensity of these urges, he didn’t want to scare you off just as you started to mend things. It always seemed like that, it was never the right moment, the right situation or time, to cross that line, to show you just how much he felt for you. Maybe one day, one day you’ll share these intense feelings, one day when you’re both ready to take that step. Even so, sometimes he tiptoed around that line, that day he was ill, that day in the garden, that day at the fair, so close yet so far, but that the fear of rejection stopped him every time. He could not stand the idea that you’d pull away, that he’d see disgust on your face if he kissed you. And so he swallowed his feelings, going back to teasing and poking fun at you, settling into the familiarity of it all before he ruined it.

Before long, he hears light footsteps coming from behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts, as arms wrap around him from behind. You feel him stiffen slightly at your unexpected touch. How curious.

“How’s it coming along? Can I help with anything?” Your voice is light as you peek around him, curious at what he was working on. 

He turns slightly to look at you, a teasing retort on the tip of his tongue, but falters when he takes in your appearance.

“Is… that my shirt?” A seemingly cocky smirk spreads across his lips, but his words stutter slightly as he notices your bare thighs peeking from the bottom of the shirt, his mind racing, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Nope. You lost the right to it when you died.” Your voice is playful as you move away to stand beside him, leaning back against the counter. 

The startled laughter that escapes him makes you grin back at him. It’s so refreshing to see him so carefree, the dark cloud that seems to follow him fading, the tension in his shoulders giving in as he spends more time with you. He almost seems like the old Caleb, the one from your childhood. 

“Ouch. Low blow, pips, low blow.” He nudges you with his elbow as he carries on chopping the vegetables in front of him. You reach out to poke him in the side in retaliation, but he catches your hand.

“Watch where you poke or there’ll be consequences.” His eyes narrow at you, but his words are amused. Of course, you reach out to poke him again, the shit-eating grin never leaving your face. And of course, he catches the other hand too. Now fully pressed against the counter, your wrists still held tight in his hands, you look up at him.

“I said there’d be consequences and yet you still persist. What should I do with you?” Mischief plays through his eyes, as he lets go of one of your wrists, his hand instead going to your side, poking just like you did to him. A squeal leaves your mouth as you try to squirm away from the offending appendage but with him caging you in, there’s nowhere to go. That fact doesn’t stop you from trying again and again. That is until you nearly escape his grasp, only to slip on the cold kitchen floor. You brace yourself for the fall but the arms around you stop you in your tracks, pulling you tightly against him.

“What am I going to do with you, Pipsqueak, when you even trip over nothing? Where’d that hunter's gracefulness go?” He sighs fondly, but his words trail off slightly when he notices just how close the two of you are, faces only inches away from each other.

His face is all you see as you feel his breath catch in his throat. Your eyes widen as you take in the situation you’re in, slight shock settling into your frame. Or was it anticipation? His violet eyes scan your face, looking, searching. For what? You think you know. His gaze is filled with a longing, a yearning that has been present for as long as you remember, as his eyes dart between your own and your lips. Is this it? Is he finally going to take that step?

His breath fans your face. It’s warm. 

Minutes, hours, tick on by, the silence filling every corner of the room, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. 

Just when you think he’ll lean in, he starts to move away, eyes breaking away from yours. 

Coward.

Before you can even think, your hands fly out, grasping his collar, pulling him back closer to you. And finally, finally, your lips meet his. His lips are chapped, rough to the touch, but it feels just right. Just like you always imagined and better. So much better. You feel him tense as his mind catches up with the situation and for a passing second, you think you fucked up. You pull away, and it’s your turn to scan his face, waiting for anything to show you that you made the right move. 

You don’t wait long as he lips crash back to yours in a desperate and searing kiss. There it is. You have waited so long for this moment, the moment the two of you crossed that boundary, took things down the path you always knew you both wanted. To be able to kiss, to touch, to love each other freely. Your arms weave from his collar to around his neck, pulling him closer, as his large hands engulfed your waist in an iron grip, the counter at your back trapping you against him. The moment you feel his tongue press against your lips, you part them, allowing the kiss to deepen further. Your lungs scream for air, but you don’t dare pull away, you have waited too long just to break this moment. You feel him shift slightly and for a moment you feel weightless, until you find yourself sitting on the counter, Caleb settled between your bare, parted legs. Your fingers caress his hair as he presses close and you hear him give a content hum into the kiss. 

BANG.

The loud sound of a crash next to you snaps you away from the kiss, as you notice the chopping board, along with all of the veg Caleb was cutting earlier, on the floor. The two of you must’ve knocked it off the counter in your enthusiasm. 

Still catching your breath, you turn back to Caleb with an exasperated look, “This is why we can’t have nice things.” Even with your deadpan words, a grin plays on your swollen lips. 

Ignoring your statement, you feel his arms encircle your waist as he rests his face on your shoulder, breathing laboured.

“Fuck, Pips, you have no idea what you do to me.” he whispers against your skin, and you feel your face flush.

“I can definitely make an educated guess.” The giggle you let out borders on devious, your hands still running through his hair.

[asce-of-hearts]

CW: SPANKING, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, NOT PROOFREAD

A little spanking every once in a while is okay, nice even. The light sting and some aching when sitting is bearable, even the red marks are erotic. But with Toji? It's a constant, it's an every day thing. He can't keep his hands off your ass.

Its just so round and pretty, the size doesn't even matter, because either way it fits perfectly in his palm. The way it ripples after he has delivered a harsh smack to it, even unprovoked, even if you're not fucking like rabbits, he loves it. He loves your ass, he loves it as much as he loves you.

And you have tried, you have begged for him to tone it down a bit, because you can't sit without feeling the aftermath of his heavy handed touch. And for once... it seems to have worked. The loud SMACK! sounds don't echo around the house every hour of the day, and you can finally sit in peace without feeling like your cheeks are being placed over scorching metal.

But today? Toji feels like he's being tested. The way you wear one of his shirts, the way your underwear exposes the most vulnerable spot of your body. It's too much for him, and he's trying his best to keep his hands to himself. At this point he's challenging his self restraint, completely absorbed in his thoughts that he isn't even listening to you. You're complaining, that's for sure, he can see it in the way your brows furrow and your lips pout just a bit.

"For the love of all things holy, Toji. Keep your shit off the floor, the laundry basket is right there," You say, bending over to pick up some loose pairs of socks and boxers that litter the floor of your room. And there, in that second, before you can even react, you feel it, you hear it. The loud, angry clashing of his palm against your supple flesh. And you can only let out the most pitiful, choked whimper. Looking at him with wide eyes, mouth wide open.

"Ah, shit," He says, trying to sound sheepish. But the way his smile becomes a shit-eating grin betrays his fake guilty act. "It was your fault. You know I like it too much when you wear my shirts, woman."

"My fault!?" You quickly reply, and he averts his gaze, trying his hardest to appear innocent. "How am I supposed to sit now?" You ask him, hands on your hips, turning around to show him the red imprint that now lingers on your flesh. He whistles, then shrugs.

"Well, guess it can't be helped," He sighs, and delivers another harsh smack to your bare ass. On purpose, harder this time, making you jump. And the second after, he strides right out of the room, swiftly avoiding the shoe thrown right to his head. "I really can't keep my hands off your ass."

Toji M.List

TAG LIST

Tagging: @sunnymmoon  @lilithlunas @imvivian @eroscastle @goldenglow149

@lurexin @stranger00001 @kitzusune @mizzhellsingsstuff @lakxcpsta

@coolnekochan9961 @notreallyablogger @lilyalone @oliviathatgirl @hannas16

@mimihaitani @raxshall @ayn-yurbestie @janeisnotonline

[cece693]

He's Cute

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: you're Loki's brother, but actually nice and come in peace, bucky finds you adorable, humor, asking out a prince from another planet is hard, just ask bucky, part 2 can be done

Tony tapped his fingers on the conference table, wearing his best ‘well, here we go again’ scowl. In front of him, the Avengers were assembled, all shooting wary glances at Thor. “So,” Tony drawled, making sure to emphasize his skepticism, “we’re hosting another Asgardian prince. Is your father just collecting them at this point?”

Thor, doing his best not to look offended, cleared his throat. “I know you hold distrust after what Loki did, but (Y/N) is our younger brother. He’s quite the opposite from Loki.”

Clint quirked a brow, exchanging a glance with Sam. “‘Opposite’ how? Less shape-shifting and more interpretive dance, or…?”

Sam snorted. “I’d pay to see that, actually.”

Thor, for his part, stood straight-backed, looking earnest—and maybe just a little bit offended. “I assure you, (Y/N) is not here to conquer anything,” he reiterated. “My brother is gentle. He's nothing like our brother Loki."

Tony drummed his fingers on the table one more time. “Yeah, we’ll see. Might I suggest we have a ‘No Asgardian Shenanigans’ sign at the front door? We can hang it right under the ‘No Solicitors’ sign.”

“That might be a tad welcoming, don’t you think?” Clint drawled, lips curling in a wry grin.

Sam chuckled. “No illusions allowed, no staff-wielding illusions, no illusions about illusions.”

Bucky glanced around. They were all bantering, but he could sense the undercurrent of nervous energy. Finally, Steve caught his eye and nodded, inviting him to speak up if he wanted. But Bucky just gave a small shrug—he didn’t really have an opinion yet, beyond thinking that maybe it would be nice to have another level-headed god around. He’d heard Loki was a piece of work, but Thor—despite his bombast—had proven a decent ally.

“Well, guess we’ll know soon enough,” Nat said, pulling everyone’s attention back to her. She tapped her phone, checking the time. “Thor? When’s your supposed to show up?”

Thor’s chest swelled with pride, as though merely announcing your name was akin to proclaiming victory over the Nine Realms. “He will arrive today—shortly, in fact. Heimdall has secured him safe passage. I ask for your patience, my friends. He is not…accustomed to Earth.”

“Oh, this ought to be fun,” Tony said, pushing back from the table. “Alright. Everyone, let’s roll out the welcome mat. And by ‘welcome mat,’ I obviously mean ‘a healthy dose of skepticism laced with potential backup plans A through Z.’ Clint, let’s find a vantage point—”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, sounding exasperated. “He’s Thor’s brother, not a Hydra spy.”

Tony shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. Or have we collectively forgotten the Chitauri fiasco?”

Thor let out a deep, put-upon sigh, and Bucky caught the flicker of guilt in the god’s eyes. Clearly, Thor was sensitive about all that had happened with Loki. Which in turn made Bucky feel a little guilty for automatically being wary.

About an hour later, the Avengers had dispersed, though most lingered in the main atrium of the Compound. Bucky hung back near a wall, arms folded, scanning his surroundings with a soldier’s vigilance. He had no idea what to expect. A second Loki? Another six-foot-something, muscle-bound, hammer-wielding Asgardian?

The air crackled with energy, and suddenly, a swirl of rainbow light appeared at the center of the room—a mini Bifrost. Out of it stepped you.

Your entrance was about as dramatic as one could expect from a swirling cosmic rainbow, but you looked anything but menacing. Clad in simple Asgardian attire (far less extravagant than Thor’s usual gear), you blinked, adjusting to the Earthly surroundings and then you bowed—actually bowed—deeply and respectfully.

“Good day,” you greeted softly, your voice gentler than any of them expected. “I am (Y/N) of Asgard. It's an honor to meet the team that has accepted my brother Thor with open arms. I know you might be wary of me with all that has transpired with Loki, but know that I deeply apologize for any problems he...” You paused, searching for a polite way to phrase it, eventually settling with, “…might have caused.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “‘Might have caused?’ Yeah, that’s one way to put an alien invasion.” He exchanged a look with Clint, who shrugged.

“(Y/N) is different,” Thor explained, laying a large hand on your shoulder with a brotherly sort of pride. “He will not attempt subterfuge or illusions.”

Bucky, observing quietly from his corner, noticed how you half-cringed at the mention of illusions, as if even the word brought you guilt by association. You glanced around at the assembled heroes: Tony with his pointed skepticism, Nat’s arms folded in careful assessment, Steve’s polite-but-guarded kindness. Even Sam gave you a sidelong look that said he wasn’t entirely sure he believed in second Asgardian princes yet. Only Thor, unwavering in his faith, and Bruce, gently curious, seemed at ease.

Clearing your throat, you continued, “I truly want to learn of your customs and help in any way I can.” Your voice quieted further. “I understand if my presence here makes you uncomfortable. You have already faced so much.”

Natasha eyed you, the corners of her mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles. “Well, you’re certainly more polite than your brothers,” she said, glancing at Thor pointedly.

“That’s not difficult,” Clint muttered, earning a huff from Thor.

Bucky only half-listened to the exchange; he was more focused on the shy curve of your posture—how you carried yourself with a subtle humility that was so unlike Thor’s boisterous confidence or Loki’s cunning. He realized then he was staring, so he forced himself to look away, crossing his arms over his chest to maintain some semblance of aloofness.

Steve, ever the one to break awkward silences, stepped forward to shake your hand. “We appreciate your honesty, (Y/N). I’m Steve Rogers. I promise no one here means you harm,” he said in a reassuring tone.

You took his hand carefully, as if unaccustomed to the formality. “Nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.” A flicker of surprise crossed your face as you felt the firmness of his handshake. “Your grip could rival Thor’s,” you murmured, almost impressed. Thor puffed up, beaming that you’d complimented one of his comrades.

Sam spoke up next, his voice colored with curiosity. “So, no illusions, no plans of world domination…I’m guessing you’re the ‘normal’ one in the family?”

You seemed flustered, but your lips quirked in an embarrassed smile. “I—I wouldn’t quite say that. But I have always strived for peace.”

Tony waved a hand. “Alright, Peace Prince, welcome aboard. We’ll see how it goes. Just don’t conjure up any giant space whales or open any more cosmic portals in the middle of Manhattan, deal?”

Thor looked positively mortified that Tony would even imply such a thing, but you only nodded politely. “Yes, sir. No space whales. I can assure you of that.”

At the “sir,” Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I like you. Please continue to address me as ‘sir’ in front of the others.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

Thor cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to calmer waters. “(Y/N) will be staying with us for a time—learning Earth’s ways. Please, treat him as you would me.”

“So we haze him with endless pop culture references and toss him in the deep end?” Sam joked.

Bucky saw you swallow hard, and something about your shy, uncertain expression tugged at his chest. Without meaning to, he spoke up for the first time in the meeting. “I’ll help,” he said bluntly.

Everyone turned to look at him, surprise etched on their faces—especially Steve, who arched an eyebrow as if to say, Didn’t know you were volunteering, pal. You brightened, relief shining in your eyes. “That is very kind of you. Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Just…Bucky,” he mumbled, cheeks warming the tiniest bit.

Natasha’s keen eyes flickered between the two of you, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Great,” she said lightly. “Now that we’re all introduced, who wants lunch?”

Over the next few days, you integrated yourself into Avengers life with unexpected ease. You asked Tony endless questions about Earth technology, took great care to help Bruce reorganize his lab (after you discovered you had a knack for meticulously alphabetizing everything from chemicals to coffee mugs), and politely sparred with Natasha, who grudgingly admitted you were surprisingly tough yet considerate.

Meanwhile, Bucky quietly observed you. He watched you cheerfully fix up the lounge furniture after Thor accidentally broke a coffee table. He saw you carefully water the potted plants in the hallway, eager to ensure none of Earth’s “fragile vegetation” withered on your watch. Little by little, Bucky found himself drawn to your presence—drawn to your soft laughter, your bright curiosity.

But one thing stood out above all else: you never once bragged about your title. You never boasted about your Asgardian heritage or demanded special treatment. You even seemed embarrassed whenever anyone called you ‘Prince (Y/N).’ Instead, you were humble—sometimes painfully so. And that humility, combined with that sweet, open-minded wonder, made Bucky’s heart do somersaults he hadn’t felt in years.

Bucky sat in the compound’s lounge one afternoon, pretending to read a newspaper while sneaking glances your way. You were studying a half-eaten bag of potato chips like they were the eighth wonder of the world.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured, beckoning his friend closer.

Steve, doing his best to hide an amused smile, leaned in. “What’s up?”

Bucky tilted the newspaper so Steve could see you turning the potato-chip bag upside down, letting crumbs tumble out onto your hand. “He’s cute,” Bucky muttered under his breath, so quietly it nearly dissolved into air.

“…Should I act surprised? It was obvious from the moment you volunteered to show him around the tower,” Steve finished, his voice just as low. He flicked his gaze from Bucky to you and back again, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide the hint of pink that dusted his cheeks. “I’m trying to be subtle, all right?”

Steve snorted. “That’s rich coming from the guy who’s sneaking glances every ten seconds.”

Bucky’s gaze drifted again to you—now tapping the bottom of the potato chip bag in an effort to extract the last crumb. The entire display was so earnestly adorable that Bucky had to bite back a smile. “Look,” Bucky sighed, voice dropping lower, “he’s Thor’s brother. A prince. And I’m—well—” He gestured vaguely at himself, as if that summed up a lifetime’s worth of complications. “You really think he’d be interested?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I do.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest—he’s just curious about Earth, he’s friendly to everyone, it doesn’t mean anything—but then, as if on cue, you turned around in your seat. The instant your eyes met Bucky’s, your face lit with delight. You waved at him so earnestly that you almost spilled the bag of chips.

Bucky swallowed. “Fine,” he muttered, giving Steve a pointed look. “Maybe there’s a small chance.”

Steve suppressed a laugh, nudging Bucky forward. “Then go talk to him. Ask about chips, or Earth cuisine, or literally anything. Just say something.”

Bucky tried to summon that stoic confidence that sometimes worked for him. Instead, he felt like a high school kid with a crush. “Right,” he mumbled. “Be casual. Real casual.”

He stood up, discreetly adjusting his jacket, and made his way over to you. You greeted him with a bright smile—still holding that bag of chips as if you’d discovered gold. “Hello, Bucky!” you said. “I didn’t realize such simple food could taste so addictive.”

Bucky felt his heart do a little flip at the sound of his name on your lips. “Yeah, uh…chips,” he replied brilliantly, jamming his hand in his pocket in a desperate attempt to appear nonchalant. “They’re a big deal around here. We’ve got, uh…like, 70 flavors, I think.”

Your eyes widened. “Seventy?!”

“Maybe more,” Bucky corrected himself. He cleared his throat. “So, you like them?”

“Very much. I fear I might become dependent,” you admitted, glancing a little sheepishly at the half-empty bag. “But enough about me—how’s your day? I noticed you’ve been reading that newspaper for a while.”

Bucky cringed internally. Busted. “Oh, yeah—lots of…uh…interesting articles,” he fibbed, holding up the folded paper. He glanced at the front page, realized it was yesterday’s news, and hastily lowered it again. “Anyway, I was thinking, maybe we could…you know, get out for a while? Go, uh…check out a café nearby.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion creeping across your features. “But the Compound has a coffee machine. It’s in the kitchen, right? I can fetch you coffee, if you like.”

“No, no,” Bucky corrected, trying to keep his composure. “I mean, we could go out. Just you and me. Kind of an…outing.” He struggled with the word date, but it hovered there, unsaid.

Your eyes went wide, as though another revelation had dawned upon you. “Oh! You need supplies? Are we on a mission?”

“No, not a mission,” Bucky explained, scratching the back of his neck. “Just hanging out. Relaxing. Maybe having a nice conversation—away from everyone else.”

You nodded, albeit slowly. “A private conversation…in a place that also serves coffee?”

“Right,” Bucky confirmed, trying not to seem too relieved. “It’s…well, on Earth, we call that a ‘date.’”

He finally said it—date. His palms were sweaty, but he held your gaze, waiting.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, brows shooting up. “I’ve read about dates in one of the Midgardian relationship guidebooks. Something about courting rituals and paying for each other’s drinks to demonstrate affection?”

Bucky’s cheeks felt warmer by the second. “Yeah, that’s…that’s the general idea. You interested?”

“Yes!” you said, then paused, a flicker of doubt crossing your features. “But do we need to bring my father into this? Thor mentioned father-gifts or is that just for official betrothals? I don’t want to be rude.”

Off to the side, half-hidden in the hallway, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose to stifle a laugh. Bucky shot him a quick glare—thanks for the backup, pal. Chuckling nervously, Bucky shook his head. “No father-gifts required. On Earth, it’s usually just between, well…the two people going on the date.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed. “Ah, excellent. That simplifies things. I wouldn’t know what to buy your father anyway—does he prefer golden chalices or—?”

“No, no,” Bucky interjected quickly, biting his lip to keep from outright laughing. “Seriously, no father involvement. We just go, maybe sit down, order coffee, talk.”

You seemed to take a moment to let that sink in. Then, you grinned wide. “That sounds delightful. When do we depart for this coffee date?”

“How about tomorrow morning? Around ten?” Bucky offered.

You placed a hand over your heart, nodding firmly. “Ten in the morning. I will be ready. Should I wear armor, or is that too formal?”

Bucky glanced at Steve again, who was now silently cracking up. He smothered a grin, turning back to you. “Casual clothes are fine. Maybe just…I dunno…a shirt and jeans, if you have them?”

“Ah, yes! The mortal garb. I’ll do my best not to clash patterns.” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Though everything on Earth seems to clash with my Asgardian boots.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh, feeling tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding in slip away. “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Moments later, you excused yourself to research casual Earth attire, leaving Bucky standing in the lounge with a strangely giddy feeling in his chest. That’s when Steve sauntered in, arms folded, his smile practically ear-to-ear. “You see?” Steve teased. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t quite hide his grin. “I almost had to explain father-gifts, so maybe a little complicated.”

Steve chuckled. “Looked like you handled it just fine. And if you need a quick escape route tomorrow, you know I’ve got your back.”

Bucky gave him a playful shove. “Thanks, punk.”

Steve shrugged, still grinning. “Anytime, jerk.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[gguk-n]

Rewritten Headlines (Charles Leclerc X Model!Reader)

Fake dating mixed SMAU and imagine. All the pictures are from pinterest. Random girls from Pinterest no specific person

{Reader's POV}

My manager mailed me the tickets to Monaco. I was flying in on the Sunday morning and then I was to meet some guy who was gonna be my fake boyfriend apparently. I reached Monaco around afternoon and rested in the hotel until the meeting time. She sent the guys's profile and number so that I could contact him, if I needed to. When I opened the profile, the name read Charles Leclerc. I'd heard about him; he was a driver for Ferrari and if you base your work out of Italy it's kinda hard to miss Charles or Ferrari. I got dressed and headed to the restaurant we decided to meet at. He was already waiting for me when I got there. He waved at me as soon as we saw each other. I walked towards him and raised my hand to greet him "Hi, I'm Y/N Y/L/N, your fake girlfriend." I said. He laughed then replied, "Hi, I'm Charles Leclerc, your fake boyfriend."

We sat together and talked for a while, going through the profile our teams had sent and made a few changes that we would be letting them know off. Charles was easy to be around and fun to talk to. We had dinner together and he dropped me back to my hotel. He even offered to drive me to the airport tomorrow but I denied his request since I didn't want to ruin the plan our teams had come up with.

We were supposed to date for a year till it would clear up our names. Our meeting was supposed to happen at a race, I was flying out in 2 weeks for. I would be Ferrari's guest and then Charles and I would hit it off, immediately. We would do a few public appearances and be 'caught by paps' make it believable, a few interviews and Instagram posts and then break up with a post or story. Simple as that.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, 1,256,976 others

y/n.y/l/n Thank you to Ferrari for having me as a guest at todays race. I had so much fun. I would love to be back for more races.

user1 You look so pretty!!😘😘 user2 guys, everyone at the gp said that Y/N and Charles were inseparable, new couple?!🥹🥹 user3 After the whole scandal and the first post back is her at a race, who ever said she was irrelevant is actually irrelevant😭😭 user4 How are you so pretty???😍😍 user5 we love you, don't listen to the haters❤️❤️ scuderiaferrari please come back soonn. You look great in red. ti amo❤️❤️

f1gossip

Liked by 1,789 others tagged y/n.y/l/n and charles_leclerc

f1gossip Rumor has it Model Y/N Y/L/N and Scuderia Ferrari's driver Charles Leclerc are romantically involved. They were spotted in various cities across Europe in between race weeks. People say Y/N was at Charles home race too. But there were no pictures so we cannot confirm.

user6 damn you tagged them🤣🤣 user7 I can confirm she was at Charles's home race. I saw her. Both of them looked so cute tbh🥹🥹 user8 I'm happy if they are happy😭😭 user2 Idk why Charles is dating that problematic abusive woman🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 1,279,356 others tagged charles_leclerc

y/n.y/l/n I don't think I've been this happy in a really long time. Thank you baby for loving me. Can't wait to spend all my time with you and support you in all your races!! Je t'aime, mon ange

charles_leclerc I love you too mon cherie. Can't wait to support you in all your runways either user1 my goodness, I can't breathe😭 user3 they are so cute!! the hand in his hair❤️❤️ user4 the way Charles holds her, fuck I want a man like him🥹🥹 user5 love is real it seems😪😪 bestie/user Congratulations you two!!😘😘 scuderiaferrari pretty people make prettiest couple😌😌

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/n.y/l/n, scuderiaferrari and 1,267,202 others tagged y/n.y/l/n

charles_leclerc Can't believe I get to call the prettiest girl my own!! Thank you for having me. Je t'aime cherie

y/n.y/l/n You're making me blush. I love you more Charlie. 😘😘 user6 when will it be??😭 user7 he takes the best pictures😏😏 user8 if a man don't love me like this, I don't want it😤😤 user1 I think it's time to switch social media off, couples are annoying😩 carlossainz55 Congratulations mate! So happy for you👍 scuderaferrari so pretty!! Congratulations❤️

{Reader's POV}

Going to all these places to be spotted by paparazzi or to his races meant we spent a lot of time together. It felt so nice to have someone going through a similar situation. He was so nice to me, I had so much fun just hanging out with him. He made me laugh at his stupid jokes. He got me flowers even though the dates were fake. He bought us matching watches to make it believable. Even my actual boyfriend never put this much effort.

After a race, both of us got to the hotel together. He walked me to my room; "do you wanna chill and get room service?" I asked while I unlocked my door. "sure" Charles replied with a big smile. I let him in. We sat and ordered room service and watched a movie together. I got tired mid way through the movie and ended up laying my head on his shoulder. We ended up cuddling eventually. I don't remember when I slept but I slept like a baby in Charles's arms.

After a 'date' in Milan, we were walking back to my place. I had offered him a spare room since it would be weird if he stayed at a hotel when his girlfriend had a house. We walked back holding each others hands in silence. The comfort was warm and inviting. I may have been cuddling myself to sleep in Charles's arms the whole weekend he was there but no one has to know. I didn't sleep as well alone as I did with him. So whenever we were together, he offered to be my cuddle buddy. I think I'm starting to like him; this could be bad.

When Charles won the race, he walked towards me cupping my cheeks; "can I kiss you?" he asked softly barely above a whisper. I nodded my head and then he kissed me. It wasn't in the contract, we weren't supposed to kiss but we did. It was magical and warm and sweaty. The kiss ended to quickly for my liking but the cheers were deafening. I think I'm in trouble, I think I love him.

{Reader's POV}

Our contract was up in a couple days. We haven't be seen together for a few weeks now. It's breaking me not being with him. But this was a contracted relationship to help us both. I just never felt like this with any other guy.

{Charles's POV}

Mine and Y/N's relationship was a contractual obligation. But I never realised how close we got. That kiss we shared after my race win was everything. I felt electric shock through out my body as her lips moved against mine. It was then I knew that I loved her but it probably wouldn't work out since she didn't feel the same.

f1gossip

Liked by 1,702,827 others

f1gossip Paddock's favourite couple has broken up after only 1 year. It was year ago around this time that rumours were floating that they were dating and yesterday both of them posted a story saying that they decided to break up because of work and their schedule. They said that they will continue to remain good friends.

user2 tell me this is lie😭 user3 I'm crying😭😭 user4 please get back together😤😤 user5 both of them made each other such better people🥺🥺 user6 she really deserved everything Charles gave her after her shitty ex🤧 user7 I hate life!!😓

A couple nights after the sleep over at Y/N's place with her friend; Charles showed up at her door with a big bouquet of tulips and roses. He had a huge chocolate in hand too. He was scared; his palms were sweaty and he really contemplated ringing her door bell. As if the universe was trying to get these two oblivious love birds together, Y/N opened the door with a packet of trash in her hand. "Charles" she whispered scared that he'll disappear if she said it out loud. "Hi" he greeted. "come in" she said while opening the door for him to enter. "I'll be right back" she said while walking out of the door. She disposed of the trash and came back to sit where Charles was sat in her living room. The chocolates and flowers still in hand. He stood up as soon as she entered. "For you" he said while thrusting them in her hands. She took the flowers and sniffed them, a small smile on her lips. "What are you doing here, so late?" she asked. "Ilikeyoulikealotandican'tlivewithoutyou" he blurted out. "Charlie, you're gonna have to say it slowly for me to understand" she said while placing the flowers and chocolate down to stand in front of him. He huffed out before speaking, "I think I like you. After we stopped seeing each other I couldn't imagine my life without you. I don't know when you became so important to me but I need you in my life" he said. She had tears in her eyes, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around him; "I think I like you too Charlie, I couldn't sleep without, i couldn't eat. I knew I loved you when I was able to fall asleep in your arms. I'm so happy you feel the same" she whispered into his neck. Charles wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "I love you too mon cherie." he said while pulling away to look at her, "Will you be my girlfriend for real this time?" he asked looking into her eyes. "Yes" she nodded while pressing her lips against his.

f1gossip

Liked by 258,972 others

f1gossip Charles's ex Y/N was spotted at the launch of his new ice cream Lec with his brother Arthur. They were seen holding hands and kissing each other. I think it's safe to say that the paddock couple is back together.

user8 my prayers have been answered🙏 user1 I can sleep peacefully knowing that they are together again🤧 user2 Mom and Dad are back!!!😌 user3 I love that for them!! They deserve each other🥹 user4 they deserve all the happiness❤️❤️ user5 I hope they never break up😭

[helenanell]

I’ll Be Seeing You || Dr. Abbott

Dr Jack Abbott x OC - (Functions as an x Reader too)

This is Part Two of - You’re Good

Summary: The shift ends and in the aftermath, it’s once again Dr Abbott who anchors me.

Notes: Minor Spoilers. Angst. Emotional hurt / comfort. (Sort of…in the way these two know how) Yearning. Denial of feelings. Mention of trauma and death.

WC: 2.3k

Tagging some people who interacted with the first part (thank you ❤️): @madsmilfelsen @nyheartbreak @lc-birdie @pear-1206

A hundred and twelve mass casualty patients and there were only six we couldn’t save. Not only. Never only. Each of them was a world— someone’s world.

Those we saved are safe within the hospital walls, in the best hands, one hundred and six that made it to nightfall.

Outside, only a few paces beyond the entrance to The Pitt, I stand on the sidewalk with the six we lost. I hold them with me beneath the stars they didn’t get to see.

I was with one of them when he died. A sixteen year old boy who clutched onto my hand, not as a patient to a doctor, but a terrified kid who’s always believed adults had all the answers. That an adult could save him.

Scrape your knee and run until you’re swept up into the safety of stronger arms. He looked up to me in the same way, but I wasn’t stronger, not in the ways that matter.

My shift has ended, but sirens still sound throughout the city. They’re always ringing, both in the streets and in the darkened network of my mind.

My head drops, chin against my chest and a quiet sob wracks my body. No tears fall. I keep them inside and with nowhere else to go, they run down deep and corrode something at the core of me.

I hear the steady swish that tells me the doors to the ED have expelled someone, but I don’t turn.

Once again, when I am adrift, it is Dr Abbott that finds me.

“First Robbie, now you.”

“He was up on the roof.” I say, not a question.

“He was on the roof.” Abbott affirms, the edges of his words jagged as if he’s torn them out of himself.

“He took your spot.” I say, almost managing to sound teasing.

“That’s exactly what I said.” He answers gruffly. Then, he’s leaning to the side, nudging his shoulder into mine. “Get yourself home, Doctor. Eat. Shower. Sleep.”

Neither of us have looked at the other yet. Well, I suppose I can’t know for sure that he hasn’t glanced at me but…I feel like I would know.

He’s never had the consideration to look at me in a way that doesn’t leave a trace.

Fighting off the sense of intimacy that always appears unbidden when I’m with him, I opt for sarcasm that I’m too weakened to make convincing. “You better tell me to brush my teeth too or I might forget.”

He scoffs indignantly. “Joke all you want, but you forgot to eat today.”

There it is. That feeling I get when he’s looking at me. It makes me more than furious with him.

Unfortunately, that anger doesn’t come out when I speak. Instead, I’m wilting beneath his scrutiny. No, not wilting because of him. He’s seeing me and I can no longer pretend to myself that I haven’t already wilted. Dead or dying, or at least feeling like part of me is.

“No, I ate—“ I cut myself off, realising the truth of it and the ache of absence in my stomach.

Shit. He’s right. The bastard wasn’t even on the whole shift and he knows I didn't eat.

Then, as if he can hear my thoughts, Abbott produces a protein bar from his pocket and holds it out in front of me. They’re not in the break room, so I know he must have brought it in. It’s also the only protein bar I like. All of others taste like sand.

I also know, that he doesn't eat these, always turns his nose up, says it tastes like soap. But he brought it. He made the conscious effort to grab one as he rushed to help with an emergency.

My throat tightens as I reach out and force myself not to snatch it out of his hand. He releases it into my shaky grip, hand hovering for a second before he drops it.

I feel like I owe him now. I hate it, so I pay him back by meeting his eye with as little ire as possible. I can’t examine why his consideration burns in a way his apathy cannot and never has.

He holds my gaze, quietly, kindly. Not reacting or uttering a word. Letting me test myself.

I break eye contact and shove the protein bar in my hoodie pocket. When I’m back to staring at the street, he seems to feel he can speak to me again.

“Six years and you’re still not taking care of yourself,” he says, “Patients suffer if you’re not operating at a hundred percent.”

I sigh, releasing a grieved breath and yet all of the hurt of the day remains lodged within.

“Okay, Abbott, I’m exhausted and so are you, could you save the lecture for another time?”

I feel him shake his head. “Can’t do that.”

“Why?” I say tightly.

His next words are so soft it feels like they don’t belong in the place we’re standing in. Doesn’t belong in the night that I know he uses to hide himself away in. He stands in his safe place and releases some real part of himself to me.

“Because I don’t see you,’ he says hoarsely. “I never see you anymore.”

I slowly turn my head to look at him, and he’s already watching me. I falter at the sincerity sitting boldly in his eyes.

I’ve never known what to do when he looks at me like that. I always shrink away, curl into myself defensively.

I do all that I’m capable of in my current state: I throw the sentiment I can’t decipher back in his face, but this time the words are too loaded, too heavy. They land right by my feet again.

“Well, that’s good for me isn’t it? I’ll never hear the lecture.”

A frustrated divot appears between his brows.“For someone so exhausted, you’re putting a lot of effort into fighting me.”

“I am exhausted!” I exclaim. “That’s why I’m fighting you, you fucker, I can’t talk to you when I’m—“

“Sad.” He finishes for me.

He’s right. He’s right again and I want him gone all the more because he’s articulated an emotion in myself that I didn’t even want to say out loud. He used to do that all the time when we were on shift together.

My emotions are something I struggle to offer up, they always come in a closed fist that someone would have to pry open to get to. With everyone else it works, but Abbott doesn’t need to pry, he just looks at me and sees what I’m trying to hide as if I'm wearing it.

He takes from me without touching me. He knows me, without my ever freely giving him anything.

I feel held hostage by his knowing of me, an intimacy he snatched in that very first week of my internship.

“You’re sad,” I throw back at him, furious at being perceived. I’ll hurt him by showing him I see him too. “You- you’ve always been sad. You hold it within you and don’t stop moving so you can ignore the feeling. You work at night so none of it sees the light of day.”

His eyes are the overspill. Seeking, searching for people he can help, a fight to throw himself into because he can’t bear to be stationary. Because it is all he knows and if he does stop, he fears he’d atrophy and never move again.

So maybe sad isn’t the right word, instead it’s a silent devastation that he harbours like a secret. He hasn’t successfully kept the secret from me, but I’ve kept it for him.

Abbott doesn’t react to what I’ve said. Instead, he steps closer, then in front of me. He ducks his head into my field of vision.

“I’m not lecturing you, Doctor,” he says, “I want to know that you will go home, eat and rest.”

“You forgot shower.” I grumble.

Abbott reaches up a hand and scrubs it over his weary face. “You are testing my patience. Six years and that’s not changing anytime soon, huh?”

“It’s a test you are voluntarily taking! You came over to me!”

“You were alone.” He says as if those three words are an acceptable answer. An obvious answer.

“And?” I prod.

It’s his turn to snap. “And- what do mean fucking and? We just went through hell and back! We lean on each other!” He hisses.

Abbott looks wrecked as the words spill out. They’re ragged, almost as if barbed, cutting his way up out of his throat.

“You don’t.” I say frankly. “You never lean on anyone, Jack.”

A sharp intake of breath. Then his head drops defeatedly, a strained admittance coming out of his mouth. “I did. Against my better judgement, I did lean on someone.“

“Did?” I question, curious despite myself. “Why the past tense?”

He lifts his head, his eyes back to searching me for…for what? For more to take? More to know?

What he comes out with, is a body blow. “You should be proud of yourself, for…all that you are.”

The blow has caused a crack, and I’m terrified of what will find its way out. “Hmm, I’ll pass on that.” I snark.

Abbott groans, deep and from his chest. “Christ, you’re a walking headache. Learn to take a compliment.”

“Haven’t you heard, Abbott? Pride comes before a fall.” I say, already trying to fill in that crack with feigned aloofness.

“No, you’re not falling any time soon,” he insists, “listen to Robbie. Be proud. Let your heart break, but don’t think it can’t be put back together. Feel the grief of this day.”

“Put my heart back together so it can break over and over?”

“That’s what this job is. It’s what we choose every day.”

My eyes prickle with unshed tears. “I…I don’t know that I can choose this anymore. This shift…I thought I had a hold of myself, that I could cope with whatever's thrown at me.” My voice breaks and I look to the ED entrance with watery eyes. “I couldn’t cope with this.”

Abbott takes a step, then another. He moves until the distance is closed, he’s looking down at me and we’re toe to toe.

“You did. Coping isn’t a lack of feeling.” He says huskily. “It’s staying on your feet. You’re on your feet. Exhausted and hurting, but standing.”

More tears rise, too much to hold in. They spill. One, then two, roll down my cheeks.

“Fuck.” I hiss, reaching up to furiously wipe them away. “Nope, not doing this in front of you.”

I try to take a step back, to put distance not between our bodies, but to between myself and the weight of his stare, the agony of his knowing. The pain of being perceived by a man who has always felt out of reach.

But, as I try to back away, Abbott’s hands fall on my arms. Not heavily- light, but comforting, like the first layer of snow. But he’s not cold. He’s warm and steady and holding me in place.

“Hey,” he says. I feel his attention sweep my face but all I can do is look down at his shoes. “You absolutely can do this in front of me. Just…stand still for a minute. Breathe.” The last word is a whisper on his own tremulous breath.

His voice trembles not in fear or anger, but I don’t know what it is.

There’s an unsteadiness unfurling in both of us as we stand there together. Something, somehow, blooming in the darkness of the night.

Unsteadiness has my head dropping and I sway forward, into him. My forehead brushes his chest. I don’t let myself lean on him, not fully, because then what will I do when he steps away? Fall?

I can’t let myself lean on him.

Abbott’s thumbs ghost over my skin, almost a soothing back and forth, as if he also knows he can’t press in.

I extricate myself from him as if tearing something asunder. I almost stagger back.

“Goodnight.” I look up at him, his dark eyes shining, more affecting than the starlight above.

He nods. Reluctantly. Resignedly. I can’t know. I don’t know that I want to.

“You take care of yourself.” He says, backing away himself. “Take care and come back.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“You can and you will. You’re made for this. It’s in your goddamn bones. You’re the light of salvation, doctor.” Abbott says, giving me no room to resist. “And I will see you around.”

It’s not an order, but it’s not a plea either. Just like everything else with him…I have no goddamn clue.

“You never see me, remember?” I say.

Jack actually smiles then. It’s small, but it’s there. It’s painfully tender. Not painful for me, but as if in some way it hurts him. Something hurts him.

“If this job teaches you anything, doctor, it should be that anything and everything can change.” He begins to back away but stops himself. “You know what?…Robbie and I are going for a drink. Come.”

“You told me to go home.”

Abbott rolls his eyes. “Come for a drink. Then go.”

“Why?”

“So that I can see you sooner rather than later.”

Despite myself, I crack smile. “I—“

The ED doors open again and Robbie steps out into the night. He looks between us, eyes sparkling curiously before he focuses on me. With the hand still holding onto the strap of his backpack he lifts and finger and points. “You’re coming for a drink.”

My eyes drift to Jack. “It seems that I am. Good to show my face. Be seen.”

The three of us walk to the nearby benches and crack open a beer with our colleagues. But, I soon realise that more than anyone else, I'm with Abbott.

And I have no idea what to do with that feeling. Worse still, I don’t want the feeling to go away.

Part III - Pushing It Down

[cornsoupflavour]

Sick Day (Twice NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWICE Momo Hirai x Manager!Male Reader

Tags: 3.8k words, wholesome, manager x idol, multiple creampies, power exchange, role switching, possible romance, caught in the act

It was the day that the TWICE girls were supposed to visit an attraction together as part of a variety show, but your phone buzzed with a message from Jihyo, the leader of TWICE, the morning of the outing. Momo came down with a fever and was advised to rest. Being the group's manager, you acknowledged Jihyo's message and drove over to the hotel that they were staying in. Upon arriving, you climbed the stairs, two steps at a time, to reach Momo's floor. With a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

Momo opened the door, her dark, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a white tee, sweatpants, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Her face is flushed and glistening with perspiration. A steaming cup of tea sits on the bedside table.

"Morning, Momo. Heard you're not feeling too good so I brought you some snacks, some hot beverage packets and a few other things. How are you feeling?" you asked, walking in and closing the door behind you.

"Oh, thank you... I'm really sorry for all this... I wish I could've gone with everyone."

"Hey, we don't ask to get sick... okay, maybe sometimes, but I know this isn't one of those times. So don't worry about it, it's no trouble at all. Trust me, alright? Let's get you all nice and well rested," you helped her to the bed, tucking her in while placing the back of your hand on her forehead to check her body temperature.

She frowned, her lips pouting a little as she spoke, "It's still pretty high, isn't it? I miss everyone already..."

"I'm sure they miss you too, but they'd want you to get better too. I'll make sure they take lots of pictures so you can have a feel of what it was like there. For now, just lay back on your pillow and I'll go make you some hot chocolate and something small to eat."

Momo nods, her eyes closing as she laid back. You set up a small table for her before heading to the kitchen, fixing her up a small meal along with a glass of warm water. You brought it over and placed it on the table with a bottle of vitamins. "Here you go, eat up, you need to eat if you wanna get better."

She sat up, and turned on the television to keep herself occupied as she ate. As she began eating, your eyes drifted to a stack of unread magazines. You picked one up and flipped through it, stopping at a page where Momo is being interviewed. She's smiling, her eyes bright, you can't help but feel bad for how she's feeling right now.

Momo looks away from the television, her gaze fixing on you, "Thank you. This is perfect."

"I'm glad you like it, when you're done, let me know. I'll come and clear the table for you and you can have your rest."

"Thank you again..." her voice damp and slightly hoarse as she leaned back from the table, allowing you to clear the dishes, "...I promise I'll make it up to you and everyone else next time." She sniffled, her nose red from her flu. You began clearing her table, bringing the dishes to the sink and washing them.

"What did I say? I told you not to worry about it. We all have our off days and it appears that today is yours. No shame in that, so just focus on getting better, alright?"

Momo smiled as she tucked herself further under the covers, her gaze momentarily locking with yours. You gave her a warm smile before planting yourself in the recliner, staying close by if she needed anything else. Slowly she drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, you groggily stretched your arms as your eyes peeled open, feeling stiff from your position in the recliner. "Oh, shit– I fell asleep–" You glanced over at Momo, now nowhere to be seen, and your heart skipped a beat. Panic surged through you, and you're about to call her name when you spotted a note on the bedside table.

Your breath hitched, and you let out a sigh of relief as you read the contents of the note.

I'm feeling a little better, so I thought I'd go to the pool to cool down. Please don't worry. I'll be back soon. Thank you for everything. –Momo

You gave your face a quick wash in the bathroom to freshen up before deciding to head down to the pool to find her. As you take a step out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, you're greeted by the soothing sounds of water cascading from a nearby fountain. You walked towards the glass doors that lead to the outdoor pool area, the sun hitting your skin, and you squinted as you surveyed the area.

In the distance, you spot Momo, her curvy form in the pool, the water reflecting the rays of the evening sun, her hair spread out like a fan around her. She was backfloating in a soft pink bikini. That sure is one way to cool off from a fever. She had a pair of red–lensed clear sunglasses as she floated.

You watched longingly as you slowly approached her, subtly admiring her figure. "Water's nice, huh? Enjoying the sun?" you asked, teasingly. She swam towards you upon hearing your voice, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she rested her arms and chin on the edge of the pool. "Hey, nice to see you're feeling better."

"Yeah, looks like I just needed some hot cocoa, a good rest and some care and concern from my favourite manager to help me feel better~"

"Yeah, yeah... you're my favourite too..."

"Huh? What was that?"

"I said you're all my favourites too," you answered, smirking a little.

You take a seat on a nearby poolside chair as you watch Momo try to get out. Your cheeks blush ever so slightly as you're presented with her assets, glistening from the water. Momo extended her hand out, requesting for you to pull her up, but upon grabbing her hand, she pulled you in, laughing excitedly.

Momo continued to giggle excitedly as you float next to her, splashing water at her. "You're so lucky I put my phone down before reaching out–"

After a little bit of playful splashing, you both climbed out of the pool. As you pulled yourself up, your suit and tie absolutely soaked, your gaze landed on Momo, her body glistening from the water, her assets shaking graciously with every movement. Your cheeks turned a soft red as you looked away, handing her a towel. She grabbed it and proceeded to wrap it around herself. "Much better, thank you. The water feels great, it helped cool my fever down. I'm feeling more refreshed now."

You nod, smiling, "That's great to hear. Now, let's get back to your room to get dried up. I'll  check your temperature again too, just to make sure."

Momo nodded, her eyes bright, "Alright, Mr. Manager~" she giggled, leaning into your side.

Before you both start walking, she shook her head, trying to get the excess water out of her  hair. As you watched, it felt as if the world disappeared and you were watching her in slow–motion.

"Shall we?" her voice snapped you back to reality. You blinked a few times, setting yourself back into the real world as you nodded, "Yeah, let's go."

As you walked, you threw on your own towel to cover your wet clothes. After a while, the two of you arrived back at the room. Upon entering, you head straight for the shower to get yourself out of your wet clothes. Once done, you threw on a bathrobe and stepped back out. Momo turned around, drying her hair with the towel.

She smiled as she walked towards you. You returned her smile, glad to see her in better spirits. "You can go and freshen up if you'd like, I'll go grab the thermometer."

"Thank you, thank you, but it's okay, I could stay like this for a while," her grateful smile tugging at your heartstrings as she stated, glancing down at herself in her pink bikini and towel. "Feels nice~"

"Alright then, at least go and dry your hair, don't want you getting sick again."

"Well, at least now if I do, I know you'll come and take care of me~" she teased before proceeding to dry her hair. You headed over to your bag and pulled out a thermometer for her to use. As she stuck the thermometer under her tongue, you placed the back of your hand on her forehead once more.

"Seems alright..."

She showed you the reading and it showed her temperature being back to normal. "Wow, looks like you're alright. I shall take my leave now, the girls should be back in a few more hours."

Momo fiddled with her towel, her gaze moving to the door, "Um, can you stay a bit longer? I'd feel more comfortable with you around, you know, just in case..." she trailed off, her voice a little shy.

You hummed, glancing back at her. "Of course, I could stay till the others get back. I'll just head to the mall downstairs to grab some new clothes. You wanna come with?"

She flashed a grateful smile, "Thank you, I appreciate it... Sure, just let me change into something less revealing. Wouldn't want to give fans a free show~" she added before grabbing some clothes and walking into the bathroom. After a while, she came out and followed you down to buy some clothes. About half an hour later, you're both back in the room.

You tossed your wet clothes into the wash, already changed into a fresh set of clothes. You took a seat next to Momo on the bed. "So, any plans on how you want to spend your 'sick leave'? Y'know, besides swimming in the pool. Or do you want to just relax and rest some more?"

Momo shrugs, her eyes drifting to the television, "I guess I'll just chill here and watch some TV... My phone's dead, so I'll be a little disconnected from the world today–" she smirked, "Not that I'm complaining," she added, her eyes meeting yours.

You chuckled, "Sounds like a plan. If you need anything, let me know."

Momo's eyes flicked back to the door, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she spoke, "Actually, there is something I need from you... I need to make sure you're not just a good manager, but a good friend as well."

Her smile grew as she stood up, swaying her hips a little as she came closer to you. Momo then straddled your lap, her body pressed against yours. She lifted her shirt to reveal her pink bikini top. She tilted her head, her hair cascading around her face, "Is there something I can get you in return, Mr. Manager? I know you like this top of mine~"

You stared, somewhat in disbelief, at the situation you're currently in. You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you gulped before responding, "Umm, I don't know, I'm not really in a position to ask for anything, but if you insist..."

Momo leaned in, her lips grazing your earlobe as she whispered, "Just be a good boy for me, and I'll make sure you won't regret it."

You nodded, a smirk appearing on your lips, along with a smug look. As she pulled back, her hands landed on your chest, gripping your shirt. She began to gently tug, her eyes locked onto yours. "You really are a good friend, aren't you?"

You responded with a flirtatious confidence, "Yes, I am~" you answered, knowing where this was headed. Momo then pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. She trailed her fingers down your chest, her touch feather–light. You let out a soft hum at her touch. "Mmh, so strong..."

With her hands now on your abs, she leaned in, her lips just millimeters away from yours. Her breath was warm, her scent enveloping you. "Now, let's see if I can make you even stronger," she whispered, her lips brushing against yours. As she pulled back, her hands moved to the strings of her bikini top.

You grabbed her wrist, refusing to let her take the top off, "No. Leave it on... I like the way it looks on you..." She blinked with a mix of confusion and desire. She brought your hand to the center of her top, hooking your thumb on it as she slowly slipped it upwards, dragging the top with it.

"We could leave it like this, not on, not off~" she whispered, revealing her perky breasts, topped by dark pink nipples. Her eyes never strayed from yours, her mouth curving into a seductive smile.

You licked your lips, your hands reached out, tentatively, to cupping her breasts. She let out a soft, satisfied moan, arching into your touch. "Ungh, there you go, don't be shy."

You gave in, your hands massaging her breasts, kneading them, feeling her nipples harden beneath your fingers. Her nails dug into your shoulders as she leaned in, her lips capturing yours. She tasted sweet, her tongue dancing with yours as she gripped your hair, her hips rocking against yours.

Momo broke the kiss, her breaths shallow as she leaned back, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "I thought you could use a little distraction, Mr. Manager. You're doing well," she praised, her hand drifting down to the growing hardness between your legs.

You brought your lips to her neck, your head swam against it, planting kisses along her jawline. "Of course, you're my favourite distraction~ Don't tell the others I said that..." you joked but her touch and actions had you on edge. "You really are something aren't you, Momo?" 

You continued to kiss down her neck, your breath warm against her skin. Momo smirked, leaning in to nibble on your earlobe as she grazed your length through your pants.

You let out a soft whimper against her neck. You gripped her hips tightly, knowing this was crossing boundaries, but you couldn't resist her. "Mmff, Momo... So eager..."

Momo sat up, her eyes bright as she pulled down your pants, just enough to release your arousal. She licked her lips, her gaze never leaving yours, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. I'm just happy you're here for me."

You bit your lip, a smirk forming on the corners. Momo wiggled and shifted in your lap. She spread her legs slightly, inviting you to join her. You obliged, Momo's siren call was too strong. You raised her up slightly by her hips, lining her slit with the tip of your length.

Momo leaned forward as she lowered herself onto your member, her hands gripping your shoulders as she connected her lips with yours. As you entered her, a small moan leaked into your kiss. You slowly thrust up into her, her moans filling the room, as she set the pace.

You gripped her hips, your thrusts growing faster and more forceful. "Ahh, goddamn... you feel good, Momo," you panted, your voice rough. "You're so tight, so wet..."

Momo let out a soft, breathy moan, "Ooh, just like that... Nnngh~ You're not so bad, Mr. Manager."

You increased your pace, the sounds of slapping flesh filling the room with every thrust. You gripped her tighter, your lips pressing against her neck, your breath hot against her skin. "Mmh, you feel so good," you groaned, your grip tightening.

Momo's moans grew louder, her body arching towards yours as she grinded herself to meet your thrusts, her body quivering. "Ungh, yeah, don't stop, you're making me feel so good," she panted. The pleasure was building, each thrust bringing even louder moans to the pairing.

You slammed into her, gripping her hips, your thrusts growing more intense, the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping together. Momo's moans grew louder, her head thrown back, her nails digging into your shoulders. "Mmf, yeah, Mr. Manager~ so good... I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," she cried out.

You let out a low growl, your thrusts getting harder, "Cum for me, Momo, cum on my cock. I bet you'll look so good while you do it," you encourage.

Momo's hips bucked against yours, her body shuddering as her climax took over, her pussy tightening around you. "Ahh, daddy, yesss, I'm cumming~" she screamed out, her body trembling, her release shaking her.

Your own climax was nearing, your thrusts frenzied, "Goddamn– you're so fucking good, Momo. Fuck, I'm gonna cum too–" you groaned, your release taking you over the edge, exploding deep inside her.

Momo leaned forward, her chest pressing against your own, her breathing quick and heavy. You both enjoyed the afterglow for a while, her body still quivering, her pussy milking you softly.

You leaned down, bringing her breast to your lips, your tongue swirling around her nipple, gently pulling on it with your teeth. "Mmh, you taste so fucking good..." your voice thick with satisfaction.

Momo let out a soft, contented sigh, "Thank you, daddy, that felt so good... I can't believe I'm calling you daddy, but it feels right~"

You chuckled, giving her a tender kiss on the lips, "Well, you're my favourite, so anything goes, right?"

Momo smiled, her body still clinging to your length, "Right... My favourite Mr. Manager~"

"But I'm not done. You think with a cock like yours that I'll just hope off after one ride? You're in for a real good time~ Let me give you a 'thank you' gift for being such a good manager for us~"

You smirked, "I'll do my best to keep up with you, Momo, don't worry."

Momo grinned, her hands guiding you to lay down on your back. She raised her ass and leaned forward, her breasts pressing against your chest. She wrapped her arms around your head, hugging you into her cleavage. "This is how a good manager should be, right here, in the cradle of his favourite Momo's tits," she purred.

You chuckled, your hands gripping her hips, "So bossy, Momo, but that's what I like about you."

Momo's eyes locked onto yours, a lustful intensity in her gaze that mirrored the hunger in her soul. Her hips shifted, ever so slightly, before she began to lower herself back onto you, her lips parting in a soft moan. Inch by agonizing inch, she descended, her wetness enveloping your hardness.

Your breath hitched, your fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as she sank upon you, her pussy tightening around your length. Her breasts squished against your face, swelling slightly with each tantalizing inch. Your eyes followed the descent, drinking in her sensuality, the way her nipples hardened, the way her throat arched, the way her lips quivered in a mixture of pleasure and exertion.

Once fully impaled, Momo traced a finger along your jawline, a wolfish grin curling her lips. She began to rise, her hips grinding against yours, the head of your cock dragging against her swollen folds. The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, her moans adding to the crescendo of desire.

"Mmf, daddy– My Mr. Manager~" she panted, her eyes never leaving yours, "Make me feel good." The challenge hung between you, a promise of the submission she so eagerly gave.

You gripped her hips tighter, your own arousal building. "Just like that, Momo," you encouraged, your voice deep, hungry. "Give me everything you've got."

Momo's pace quickened, her breasts pressing onto your face, punctuating her movements. Her moans grew louder, her nails digging into your shoulders, her hips rolling, her body swimming against yours. The room trembled with the intensity of the rhythm.

She continued to grind herself onto you, going from quickly to slowly, her eyes locked on yours. Her body came down on your length, her pussy swallowing you whole. She rose and fell, her tits engulfed the bottom half of your face with every movement, her eyes never leaving yours. "Mmf, yeah, daddy, make me feel good," she moaned.

You gripped her hips, your body arching up to meet her, "Just like that, Momo... I'm all yours–" you encouraged her, your voice thick with lust.

Momo let out a soft, satisfied moan, "I'll show you just how you're all mine~ Don't you dare cum without my permission, Mr. Manager," she warned, her tone playful.

You chuckled, your hips bucking up to meet her, "I wouldn't dare, Momo... But when you do let me cum, it's going to be explosive– I will flood you–" you promised, the lust apparent in your voice.

Your grip on Momo tightened, your hips bucking, matching the pace as her body rocked against yours. Her moans grew louder, resonating in the room, filling it with the sounds of pleasure. "Ungh, Mr. Manager, you're getting me so close... I can't hold it," she panted, her voice thick with lust. "Mmf, daddy, you feel so good, I'm close... So close..."

You groaned, your body arching to meet her thrusts, your voice growing hoarse, "Let go for me, Momo, let your juices coat my cock," you encouraged her, feeling your own climax nearing. From beneath her soft yet firm breasts, you took her nipples into your mouth, sucking on them as her movements became more erratic.

Momo's body shuddered, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. "Ahh, Mr. Manager, I'm cumming~" she cried out, her pussy clenching around you, milking you with each spasm. Her moans echoed in the room as her release washed over her.

Feeling her orgasm, you too couldn't hold back, your release pulsing deep inside her. You let out a low growl, your hips bucking up one last time, "Fuck, Momo, that's it, cum for me," you groaned, your release flooding her depths.

Momo collapsed onto you, her body shuddering, her grip on you not letting go. She rested her head on your shoulder, her breathing heavy, "Wow, I don't think I've ever felt so good, that was intense... I think I should get sick more often... what do you think, Mr. Manager? Or do you prefer... daddy~?" she whispered, a satisfied and cheeky smile on her lips, her body still quivering from her climax.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her, your chest rising and falling in unison with hers, "Whichever you like better, Momo... But just wait until the next time, I have a feeling we'll be testing just how much we can handle," you teased, your voice laced with confidence and promise. You peaked from between her mounds and leaned up for a deep, passionate kiss. As Momo reciprocated, her body twitched at your slowly softening cock. Just as you both broke the kiss, a strand of saliva still connecting you two, the room door opened, to the excited chatter and banter from the other TWICE girls.

Both parties turned to look at one another, all their mouths agape.

"Hey, girls... back so soon...?"

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[ Sick Day Pt. 1 – See Pt. 2 ]

[writingwisterias]

Ruined

Part 2

Kidnapper! Leon Kennedy x AFAB!reader

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DNE, SMUT MDNI, Dub-Con, Sonomphila, Oral (F receiving), Cow-Girl, Unprotected Sex, Degradation Kink, Implied Abuse, Manipulation, Light Intox Kink, Isolation

Read Pt1

Taglist: @rigorwhoring

had a thought couldn't shake it = pt2, Lighter on the tags this time but only going to get worse ;)

Nature was your only chance for a brief moment of peace, being able to watch the water flow freely in front of you from where you perched on a fallen tree without the fear of anything. Most of your fight had left, the fear of him doing something worse lingered in the back of your mind. His strength seemed endless like there were no limits he wouldn’t go to just so you understood that he can easily overpower you. Nothing in this situation was fair and it never will be so you have accepted that you should just deal with it. You had still yet to see the full extent of your kidnappers' anger – it wasn’t like you wanted to, after all curiosity killed the cat. With how obsessed he was with you it wouldn’t be like him to go that far. At least you hoped not. It was a good thing, you suppose, that his tolerance was high you guess. 

If you sat here for long enough it was like you almost forgot where you were or why you were here. The nature changed around you, fresh leaves appearing on the tree now that spring had come around. The leaf litter being broken down by the mushroom colonies that had now appeared, their spores dusted the air giving the rays of sun an ethereal look. Occasionally animals would appear on the other side of the stream, the new babies drinking for the first time. You were just enjoying the sounds and sights of your new home you suppose, it wasn’t one that you wanted but it wasn’t terrible. It was nice to be here, like this. Until you heard the twig snap - his boots thudding on the floor as he approached you. 

The plant life squashed, its future growth now relied on its own will to live. 

“It’s getting dark now,” Leon said from behind you. One of his new rules he’s implemented. No time after dark, not when he nearly had a heart attack when he couldn’t find or see you. The orange sky was your warning. You didn’t reply to him, you never needed to say anything after all what he said was final. You’ve had enough handprints on your skin to learn that lesson. At least he was gentle this time as you walked through the door, his hand was holding yours softly instead crushing each bone. 

“The sky’s pretty today” You said, watching the ground carefully as you walked next to him. Shoes were still a privilege you have yet to earn back after the last attempt to escape a few months ago so the last thing you needed was a thorn or cut on your foot if the opportunity did present itself. Leon nodded, stopping on the porch to observe the orange hues. They were always his favourite. It didn’t matter if the sun was rising or setting - if he saw them it meant he survived to live another day. 

You watched carefully as his eyes scanned over them, his features calm as they fluttered shut. He looked peaceful – thankful even. “Don’t you think? I always liked the sunset” You prompted. He glanced over to you. He always did this, like he still didn’t fully trust you since your last escape. Trying to find any hidden meanings in your words.  His grip tightened ever so slightly, afraid in his moment of weakness you might dash away again. Still never fully convinced you wanted to be here, like you were hesitant. 

Upon entering the cabin you could already feel the heat of the fire, the crackles filling the room. The dinner he had made was already set out in front of you, vegetables he had gone out to collect, the ones from the garden not quite ready yet. Venison that he had also previously hunted. 

You hated the way that smell was becoming familiar, feeling like home to you after so long being here. Dinner as usual was eaten in silence, he preferred it that way. Spending his time making sure you actually ate everything until he began to eat himself. Once the clinking sound of your cutlery against the plate was heard you would be allowed to speak again. “There were a few animals at the stream today” You spoke watching him as he began to eat. 

He was methodic and gentle as he used the knife on the steak, scoring his lines in the meat before pressing harder to carve it. The actions mimicked familiar situations you have been in with him. The scar was now angry and red, you caught it in every window reflection or the bathroom mirror. A branding of where you belonged, like a horse or cattle to a cowboy. “What kind?” He asked, his eyes bore into you but they never really seemed interested in what you had to say exactly. More like he enjoyed the simplicity and domestic feel of the evening. “A few deer and rabbits. If I stay quiet enough they linger”

Your nails picked at the skin on your hand, your once perfect ones now were often seen with bloodied scabs. Despite your acceptance of your situation, the doubts and guilt you once had with your forgotten life are now gone – you still grew nervous in his presence. His control and dominance never faulted, always masking an element of him that you knew haunted him. It always slipped when darkness greeted him, when he was forced to sleep. His mind is plagued by nightmares of a side of him you didn't know about and he hoped you never would. After all he considered you his salvation, the only good thing he has managed to protect and gain. Conversations like this, despite his lack of interest, meant a lot to him. 

“Maybe I should take you hunting with me then” Leon commented. Everything was always so violent with him, something innocent like watching animals always involved death eventually, little do you know that his whole life has been violent. Apart from the slither of love you have given him during sex it’s all he’s ever known. You smiled and nodded, not exactly agreeing but the idea of seeing more of the surrounding area is tempting. You never got far enough in your times of escaping, the trees always looked the same beyond the stream. “What’s it like? Hunting I mean.” You asked anything to stop the impending silence that lingered if the conversation went dry. 

Leon always assumed you wouldn’t be interested in stuff like that. He would never admit that he hunted in a way to keep himself trained around a gun, after all anything could happen. “Peaceful” 

Seeing him describe such a violent act like this made himself cringe, he had never liked the idea of death. He’s seen it far too often but Leon was a provider – a career. You needed to eat and he had the skills to make sure you have plenty of what you needed. Maybe showing more of the beauty that surrounded you would make you happier. Keep that smile that showed itself very little, there a while longer. That meant it was easier for you to gather your surroundings. It had only been a season since your last escape. You promised not to fight anymore but he saw the way you hesitated still when he kissed you. You grimace as you look upon the mark he left on your chest in the mirror. 

The hesitation was still there and until he got rid of it you would be limited. You didn’t need him to explain his answer further, it would open up questions you were sure would get you punished in some way. Instead you both continued to clean up, manoeuvring around each other like a practiced dance. Your hums filled the air such a sweet tune he enjoyed so much. He watched as you lost yourself in your own mind watching the night grow closer through the window. He wondered where you were, wanting to know every thought you had and collect it like a dream journal. You jumped when you felt his lips on your shoulder, sucking the skin softly no doubt leaving another mark. 

His touch was always so confusing. His lips were demanding, greedy to devour your sweet taste whilst his hands were gentle as they lifted you onto the kitchen counter. His fingers dug in the flesh of your thighs as he pried them apart, the nightdress you wore hitching up towards your hips as you displayed yourself to him. Leon nibbled at your thighs, each bite slowly growing closer to your clothed cunt. Yet, when he reached his destination he only smirked, eyes flicking upwards to see your face. Your brows pinched in pleasure, your teeth tugging on your lips silencing your whimpers as if they were a shameful thing to do. 

Like it was such a terrible thing to enjoy what pleasure he treated you with. You felt his rough fingertips graze along the hem of your underwear, playing with the lace. “Don’t silence yourself love, you know how much I love your pretty song” He chuckled. You whimpered as his nose pressed against the fabric that separated him from your pussy. You could feel the tug on the fabric as he inhaled your scent, sucking on the gusset gently to gather the first taste. An appetiser of what you had to offer. You could feel the hint of a smile grow on your features as he pulled the fabric away exposing you. 

His tongue had insane accuracy as he swiped at the arousal that was already pooling. His moan vibrated around you at your sweet taste, if only he had a drink in this flavour. Your legs trapped him close to you ensuring that he had no choice but to continue to devour you. Your pleasure caused his cock to throb in his trousers, the hardness of it almost becoming painful. He realized a while ago you didn’t mind the sex with him as long as your pleasure came first. If it felt like you were getting something out of it before him. You never saw the damp patch on his boxers when he would stand up and pull out his cock. The taste of you was enough for him, the thrill of betraying you with this simple realization had him orgasming first. The taste of you was always comparable to a Michelin star dessert. 

Leon could feel the clench of your walls around your tongue as he brought you closer to your orgasm. His nose nudged against the sensitive bud eliciting deep guttural moans that sent the blood straight down to his cock. Just when you were about to cum, to give him the sweet juices he craved daily – Leon pulled away standing in front of you. Your cheeks were flush, eyebrows pinched in frustration. Complaints lingered in your mouth but came out in pathetic pleads and begs for pleasure again. Your own fingers frantically help him undo his trousers and free his leaking cock. “So desperate. I still remember when you pleaded for me to not give it to you. All that time you could have been getting all of this pleasure. Just for what? To not ruin your pride?” He chuckled as he lined it up. 

It felt like heaven as he slid it through your folds, you watched the tip appear – red and eager already beading with his cum. His lips brushing the shell of your ear “Admit to me that you’ve always wanted it. Even when you squirmed part of you enjoyed it. Admit it” 

It was a command. One that if you refused he would withdraw the pleasure you were clawing for. “Please, I was a fool before. I need it Leon” You begged. He laughed as he finally sunk himself into you. Groaning as you moulded around him, the tightness of your cunt gripping onto him like the nails you dug into his shoulders. He never seemed to get close enough, there was never enough skin contact for you. Leon moved slowly at first teasing you before his own pleasure coursed through him in a demand to finish. The usual silence of the home was broken with your moans, the sound of skin slapping before with one final thrust he finished. Pulling away to watch the cum spill out of you. 

“Beautiful” 

You didn’t hear his words, not when you felt his lips suck against the scar on your chest. The skin now angry and pulsing. Always leaving a reminder, making sure you never forgot. Sex was weird, the casual act of intimacy for normal people never felt quite right for the two of you. There was still reluctance on your part – the palms of your hands always pushed against his shoulders shoving him further away. Your mind always outwardly rejects him whenever you know it or not. 

You wouldn’t get a shower tonight, not as his cum still dripped down your thighs. He always left it there to grow sticky, the smell permeating your skin like a scent claim. You could imagine the look he would give you in the morning when he wakes you up with his mouth again, the smell of him lingering on your skin. 

Your nightgown was replaced with a fresh one, the stark white showing off an innocence you weren’t sure you obtained anymore. Leon did however – of course he did. You hadn’t seen what he had, felt the bones crush in your body as you continued to fight no matter what because it was your job. 

The two of you laid away in the dark, your head resting on his chest listening to his steady heart whilst his finger brushed through your hair. How did you get here? Why did he have to choose you? You wouldn’t have wished this on any other girl but what was his incentive. What was his goal? Did he really want you to just live here, in this lonely bubble? Your thoughts were loud to him as they were everynight. You understood he explained the basics of why he took you, his admission to finally having something good in his life. To provide a happy ending for the both of you. He felt your breathing change as you grew frustrated. You promised him to not fight anymore, to give in and appreciate the life he's giving you. Leon wasn’t stupid, not anymore, he could tell you still had a spark of rebellion in you. He was just waiting for it to appear.

He thought before about telling you about the horrors that plagued his mind. AFter all, he had only given you a brief explanation over what his job was. The gruesome details of the event he had experienced left him with nightmares. The things he had faced now lingered in the shadows of the room or the corner of his eyes. Maybe he would tell you about the ghosts of his pasts, the one that smiled at him from the trees when he was alone. He wouldn’t let you turn out like them; not when he had the ability to make sure you never did. 

You were special, Leon knew that from the moment he sunk his fat cock into your pussy. You stretched and clenched around him in the most perfect way he immediately became addicted that first night he had you. You had to be claimed somehow – so feisty that first time it was a hassle getting you to stay still, a fuck like you was too good to let loose. He still had the photo after he fucked your mouth; it was your fault the cock slipped out of your mouth anyway. The tip was lined up perfectly as he rubbed his cock until his load drenched your face. The translucent substance looked so pretty against your skin, giving it a soft glow that suited you. Eyes still shut as it coated your lashes; it created the perfect opportunity to form that photo. God you were perfect for him.

You felt his breathing even out the soft snores slowly releasing from his lips. It only ever happened when he was on his back trapped by you, for your own sleep you slipped away opting to face the window and the impending darkness that lingered. It never scared you, the unknown. The idea that something will happen to save you was one you clinged onto for comfort. You might have lost everything, became some mystery to the outside world but you knew your story wasn’t finished. Even if it was the reaper that came to write your final ending, that the darkness outside would sneak inside to take you away. Away from him. Unlike Leon the darkness didn’t scare you. 

His whimpers woke you up, the sheets ripped from your body as he shot awake with a sense of urgency. You didn’t even get time to react to the blinding light as he turned on the lamp beside you. His frantic eyes scanned the room silently getting rid of any danger that lurked in the corners. Until they fell on you. Your body looked so small in the sheets, eyes slowly adjusting to the light as well as his panicked form. His hands shook as they touched you, holding your shoulder tightly. “Leon-” 

You were cut off as he brought you into his arms, burying you in a hug. His scent intoxicated you, his skin layered with a sheen of sweat. You could feel him press kisses in the crown of your head, his mind using you as a grounding point. There was nothing you could do, you waited for his grip to loosen. The pain that flared along your skin was just a sign of more bruises to litter there in the morning. The tender spots would be hard to forget like always. Part of you felt sorry for him seeing him this affected by a dream. You would ask if there was anything more you could have done or if there was something in particular he needed. 

He was a horrible man, one that has stripped you of the essence of yourself but no one should be hunted in their dreams. Having nowhere to escape in a vulnerable moment. It was only when his grip loosened you spoke. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

It was normal to do that, he knew this. It's what normal couples do to comfort and talk to each other about what happened in their dreams, even the bad ones. He pulled away and looked at you, the sleep still lingered in your eyes. You slowly blinked them at him. He could tell you, perhaps in this state you would forget not to use his dream against him in the future. Allow a moment for his control to slip but that was riding on the fact you would forget. He knew you…you wouldn’t forget not with something like this. “You don’t need to worry about me” He spoke instead. It was strange to see the inner conflict so visible on your face as you had a silent conversation. You were never this expressive with him unless he was pounding his cock into you. 

“Does it happen often?” You asked again. Leon nodded his already messy hair now falling over his face. “Tonight was the worst. In a long while at least” 

You believed him, most of the time he woke up and snuggled back into you as if you being here actually helped him. Tonight however he jumped from bed, holding you desperately. It was different, the air had shifted. “I can make you tea tomorrow, it’s meant to help with sleep. I used to make it.” 

Your offer wasn’t instantly rejected which surprised you, maybe his troubles with sleep were worse than he led on. Leon nodded again, a smile growing on his lips at your offer to even help him. Maybe it was slowly developing into something he wanted, that time alone with just him was enough to ensure you created a bond with him. “Is there anything in particular you need?” He questioned, the house was stocked and he made sure of it. The kitchen had shelves of herbs and spices, in those cute little house jars that he assumed you would like. 

He didn’t tap into your devices for no reason after all, he wanted the perfect life for you. To spoil you with everything you wanted. He saw each little post you made online about how they made you feel, about how much you wanted to leave. Your pinterest boards filled with your dream items, the style you wanted, the hobbies or house decoration. He read it all like a book, like it was his daily news. It hurt you still didn’t notice or appreciate it all. “Valerian root, Lavender, Chamomile. I can forage for most of it, there might be some in the woods” 

He nodded, his heartbeat was steady again, a united front to prevent you from seeing too much. You had already seen enough weakness. “I’ll see what I can do” 

It was the next morning he approached you with the idea of going out further into the woods, you had told him the only one native was Valerian root. Also rumoured to be the most effective in achieving a deeper sleep. Leon would be lying if he said he didn’t feel unnerved with the idea of falling into a deep sleep, it had been so long since he’s not been plagued by nightmares and had a full body reset. Part of it felt nice, beginning to be able to just feel his muscles slightly looser in the morning. Maybe his head will be clearer and he’ll stop being so paranoid. He was aware of the effect lack of sleep had on a person – he just never had the ability to ease it. 

It shocked him last night at your admittance to using the tea yourself. Since you have been living here there was no evidence of your bad sleep. Perhaps that was another thing he has helped you with – his presence next to you at night fighting the nightmares you have now forgotten about. It was an unknown privilege to you that he no longer had to leave for the longer missions. It had been months since he was called into office. 

Leon knew how to make the activity harder since he insisted you held his hand the entire time. This was the compromise, he wanted you naked again – stripped bare so you wouldn't even think about leaving him. His hand was warm at least, a reminder that if you dared to edge closer to him you would feel the warmth of his body, a stark contrast from the morning frost. “I see why you like coming out here so much, the sun looks…magical” He spoke. You looked at him surprised to find his features relaxed, his eyes briefly closing just like he did yesterday evening. As if in his darkness the sun was his only light but now you caught him looking at you more, like you actually had an impact in his life. As if you helped him. If only you could know how. 

Your eyes remained firmly on the ground once he caught you looking at him, blush creeping in on your features. It wasn’t that Leon was unattractive that’s what confused you. He was fine until you miss behaved, you’ve learnt which of his buttons not to push and which of his moods to avoid to make your life easier. And yet still, you longed for that boring job which gave you endless headaches. The small meaningless things in life that still somehow gave you joy. He took that from you. You have learnt how to live without it, yes but part of you still craves it. 

“Your brain is working too hard again. Why?” 

He tugged on your arm, pain flaring as his grip tightened to halt your movements. You blinked at him like a deer in headlights. “I–I was just thinking about you” Your voice was quite unsure like you were aware of the hole you were digging yourself into. “What about me?” His smirk was suggestive, an eyebrow quirked up in amusement. Blush coats your cheeks as you attempt to think of any form of answer. “Um…s–sex?” Was that the best you could come up with?  

He barked a laugh, your response clearly pleasing him as his grip loosened slightly. “Never thought I’d see the day” His response was teasing. You felt your cheeks heat up, becoming flustered as you then began to actually think about him and sex. Heat pooling in between your legs. It wasn’t normal to feel like this, you shouldn’t. He was a horrible man – that’s all he should be left as. 

“I’ve found some” You muttered after a short while, pointing at the white flowers that decorated the stem you needed. He nodded, taking the combat knife that always stayed strapped to his hip. The green hilt was frayed and damaged - evidence that he has had it for many years. He let go of your hand briefly, watching you with an intense stare before walking around to the side of the plant so he could still see you as he cut it. “It would be pointless running away whilst you are right next to me” You spoke. It had been a while since the both of you had spoken about your old habit. He shrugged, watching you more carefully now. “I wouldn’t put it past you”. 

He was right, this was your first act towards loyalty that wasn’t just following his rules. You were optionally helping him, using your knowledge to treat him from unknown horrors to you. It was something he hadn’t expected from you. Not for a while anyway. “I like this. Being here. I just wish I could see or do more” You admitted. Leon nodded, perhaps it was time to allow you to have some freedoms that didn’t involve you sitting on the log opposite the house. Maybe you could learn how to sew or knit and begin filling the house with things that you made. Finally turning it into a loving home, warmth coming from something other than the fire that you both watched at night. You couldn’t tell what was going on through his head, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to. “It makes me happy to hear that” Was all he responded with accompanied with a gentler smile. 

Your usual routine was pretty much the same, your outside time was cut short from the orange hues. He didn’t hold your hand this time, he allowed you to walk next to him without guidance. It felt nice to have this small display of trust but your fingers itched for the warmth of his. To feel the rough skin on his palms against yours. 

After dinner, you boiled the water in the kitchen for you to make the tea, the valerian root was already grated ready for use. He watched as you prepared it, tasting it for yourself with a small sip on the side of the mug. Hands flickering over the spice jars to add what you thought it needed. You had a small smile when you presented it to him after dinner, the fire crackled behind the both of you. “We can go to bed when I start to feel sleepy” You nodded, understanding that he wouldn’t want you walking around the house whilst he slept. You still had to wake him up to let him know you were going to the bathroom at night. “And you are sure this will help?” He asked, swirling the liquid in the mug. It wasn’t like you could poison him, he had watched you prepare every step from where he sat at the table. “It should help you fall asleep. It won’t knock you out like a sleep med” You said, smiling softly. 

That was a good thing he supposed, eliminated one of his fears. You both moved to the fire, sitting on the sofa watching the flames dance around each other. The wood burns brightly leaving only the embers and ashes. To his surprise you leant on his shoulder. You had never done this before; maybe it was because he was finally trusting you and in return you trusted him. He watched the shadows dance along your features, your hair falling on his shoulders. You felt him tug you closer, silently offering a sense of protection. “Why are you crying?” He whispered in your ear. You hadn’t even noticed you were, the tear was a silent scream from the inside that this enjoyment was wrong. You shouldn’t want to be near him and be held like this, but your longing for freedom was fading.

It has been so long since you have been held, being able to weep in someone else's arms, not the pillow you used at night. “I’m not sure” you whispered, sitting up straighter to look at him. To watch his reaction. Instead of anger or disappointment genuine care laced his features. The last time you saw this look was after one of the first escape attempts and you tripped over a log. Your cries of pain hurt him deeply back then, now they were just another sound to him. Most of them coming from his punishments anyway. “Maybe sleep will make you feel better” He cooed. You nodded, holding his hand optionally. 

Leon felt the effects of your tea pretty quickly it seemed, his arm now dead weight against your waist. You watched the net curtain blow in the wind, the breeze that leaked through the small gap. You turned to face Leon, watched as the soft snores slipped through his partially open mouth. He was peaceful for once, nightmares that normally plagued him finally left him alone. Your finger poked at him, prodding him gently. He didn’t move, didn’t react. Normally his eyes opened immediately. He had never been a deep sleeper, you knew this from when you tried to chance an escape at night. Perhaps it could work this time. 

The floor was cold against your bare feet but you took no notice as you began to creep out the room. The front door was now in sight, as you crept past the dying fire that had now reduced to embers: to you, this was the prettiest part of a fire, burning a bright red, waiting for the opportunity to ignite again with the right fuel. Nobody ever thinks to drown them out with water, they just assume that they’ll burn out on their own, but that's how most fires restart. It just takes the right conditions for it all to spark up again…

Your hand gingerly touched the freezing knob, turning it slightly. It was unlocked. This was your chance surely? A sign you could finally get a good enough headstart and escape or die somewhere in the woods. Finally get away from this place. 

You couldn’t move, it felt too good to be true. The door was ajar, the cold breeze was harsh on your bare toes. You had finally settled here, everyone back home would have forgotten you by now. He would just find you again, he was a government agent. You couldn’t hide from someone like him. You would only be dragged back and your hard work to get him to trust you would be pointless. Your eyes glanced at his boots placed neatly next to the front door. The laces loose incase he needed to slip them on quickly. It didn’t take much to tug them out, holding the ribbons of fabric in your fingers. You closed the door, turning back towards the bedroom. 

Heat and excitement blossomed in your stomach alongside the fire, which now had a new lease of life, rejuvenated by the breeze. As you sashayed through the bedroom door, you noticed Leon now lay on his back. His chest is still slowly rising and falling with his sleep. He didn’t wake when you sat back on the bed, your knees pressed against his chest nor did he when you began to tie his wrists to the bed frame. You didn’t care if the string bit into his skin, he could have marks like he gave you when he first did this. You looked at the permanent red bracelets that now decorated your skin. Maybe you could carve your name onto his chest, give him the same treatment as you gave him. 

You felt the tears this time. What happened to you? You were just like him. Thinking of every way you could hurt him like he did to you. You weren’t any better. 

Not ignoring the heat that pooled in your stomach you hovered above him before sinking on his lap, feeling his soft cock underneath you separated by the duvet and underwear. He was vulnerable like this. Just as you were before. When he took you all those months ago. Leon broke you into the person you were now. Your family wouldn’t want you back, not after him. Not with these ugly scars that now littered your body, his stupid initials branded onto you. You were his now, there was no point in denying it. 

You moaned as you rubbed yourself along the length of him, feeling it harden even in his sleep. His need and reactions to your body only spurred you on more. There wasn’t anyone else that would react to you like he did; Made you feel like they needed you to just breathe. Your fingers shook as you pulled the fabric away, sliding his boxer along his legs exposing the length you now craved. Your eyes flicked towards his face, watching as his eyebrows pinched together slightly now his tip was exposed to the cold air but he didn’t wake. Your finger ran along the slit of it watching as beads of cum replaced the ones you wiped away. Even in his sleep he was desperate for you. Craving you. You slipped your underwear off, the nightdress discarded as well. The white fabric didn’t suit you anymore. Not after this. 

You whimpered as you sunk onto him, feeling yourself stretch and mold to accommodate him. His hangs tugged at the laces you began to move, eyes blinking as he panicked. Leon’s groan was wonderful, they always were. You were in control, it was exciting. He was whimpering beneath you. Your hips continued to wake him up, the slow circles causing him to tug at the restraints until finally he stopped. You faltered as he stared at you, keeping eye contact with you as you continued. “What is this?” He said, a slow smirk beginning to grow on his features. “Have I corrupted you? Tainted your soul to be as dark as mine?”  

You shook your head, the pleasure building up slowly as you continued to use him. He stopped tugging, stopped trying to break away. Eyes fluttering shut each time you lifted yourself along his cock only to slam it back down. “I thought you’d run away, finally get a head start but you finally figured out there was no point didn’t you” 

You jumped as his hand caressed your thigh, it shouldn’t be there. It was…tied up. Leon’s eyes darkened as you looked back at his wrists. “You were so close, love but don’t fool yourself now” He chuckled. You sped up, trying to finish before he ripped it away. Your desperation only fuels him further, his hip joining yours in an onslaught of pleasure. He couldn’t have given you this slither of power. Once chance to finally take what you wanted. No. That would have gone to your head, made you think your plan worked. You used his weakness against him. The fight has never left you now. No matter how many times you told him it had. That he had broken you down to this weak person who wouldn’t betray him anymore. 

“Please…just let me finish” You whimpered, you needed the release that was coming from your own doings. Your own pace. To enjoy the slither of freedom you gave yourself. He only smirked. “Leon– please” 

“Such a whore now. Begging for your release. I know it’s because you gave it. You made it happen” 

You whimpered again, nodding. Cursing yourself as your hips began to falter now the pleasure was getting too much, tethering yourself on the edge of overstimulation. “Such a whore for the bad man” 

He stopped, his fingers gripped at your hips holding you in place. He couldn’t give you this, you would do it again and again. He’d rather suffer in his nightmare than allow someone else take control of his choices, his life. You were flipped onto the bed. Head dangling off the edge causing the blood to rush there. Leon was unforgiving in his pace, his pelvis hitting yours and it turned into pain. Each thrust felt like a spank. Your hands gripped at his, desperately holding on as you became fuzzy. He felt your orgasm, the force of it pushing his cock out harshly. “I was wrong to trust you, to think you were changing and understanding what I do for you” 

You whimpered attempting to lift your head to look at him but his hand landed on your neck. Holding it in place. He was doing it wrong, crushing your windpipes instead of the blood circulation. You panicked squirming beneath. “After months we are right back where we started. If you had seen the things I have you wouldn’t. You would hide here like a good girl and be grateful for this. That you are alive to experience it” 

Leon finished with a grunt, his hand closing around your throat as he fucked his cum into your over senstive pussy. When you finally raised your head he stared back at you, his eyes dark daring you to do something. It was tempting. To become this little brat he couldn’t contain. “Continue like this…and see where it gets you. You are already becoming twisted using me like that” 

“Just took inspiration from you” 

He didn’t appreciate the bite in your words. You watched his fingers twitch each digit clenching into a fist and then relaxing. Your hips hurt, your throat hurts. He had ruined you now, your soul and actions just as bad as his own. He wasn’t wrong. It just made it all the more exciting.

[angelltheninth]

The Heroic Build

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, banter, awkward flirting, secret crush, working out, sweet!Clark Kent, himbo!Clark Kent

Word count: 1k

Ao3

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: He would make for a great, but distracting, gym buddy.

Going jogging and going to the gym were never about you wanting to impress anyone, just doing what made you feel good. Until... you noticed that he was taking the same route as you. Clark Kent, one of your new co-workers. You only talked to him a few times but he always seemed like a very sweet guy, if a little on the clumsy side. And from what you saw he was very well built. Just your type.

Hopefully some day soon you'll be able to ask him out on a date.

That day was not supposed to be today. Today you were on your usual run, minding your own business when a mountain of red appeared next to you. "Good morning!" Clarks soft, happy voice made your heart skip a beat, which really wasn't good when you're working out.

"Good morning Clark. Is this your route too?" What a stupid question, damn why do you get like this around him? It's just a crush! You've had those before.

Clark didn't seem to notice your flustered state and if he did he politely chose not to say anything, "It's on the way to the gym I go to so yeah. Plus it passes by my favorite store and I can't say no to their donuts. I uh... you could say I'm drawn to all things sweet." You swore you saw his eyes lower to your lips just then before he straightened his head forward. "What about you? I saw you running the same route a few times."

No way, could you really be... "I run this route to the gym too. Its a good warmup."

Clark's eyes lit up, you actually swore you saw them flash for a moment, must be a trick of the light and glasses, "Awesome! If you want maybe, we can go together. To the gym that is! And then also maybe get something sweet after? As a treat. My treat! I mean I will treat you to something sweet!" His face was as red as his shirt by the time he made himself stop talking.

Damn it, why was he so cute?!

"I'd love to go with you. You look like you could use a good partner. Gym partner that is." You don't know why but you found yourself winking to him all the same, which made Clark gape at you and slow down to process that wink.

As was the case almost everywhere he went Clark's cute puppydog energy seemed to make people like him. When you arrived at the gym both of you were greeted by the owners and a few other people there, although Clark seemed more like the social butterfly, or rather he let people talk and offered them the kindest possible smile and reassurance when they seemed to need it.

In fact from what you observed Clark didn't really need to go to the gym judging from his build. When that hoodie came off and you saw all that toned muscle you found yourself staring, "Oh wow." You thought you were pretty quiet but Clark heard you, somehow. "Sorry, I just didn't know you were so... buff. I knew you were big but- I mean tall, you're very tall!"

"Oh well I grew up on my parents farm so I had to bulk up and help them out." He seemed a tiny bit flustered by you looking and scratched the back of his head, which made his biceps flex and bulge. Oh this was a big mistake on your part. "I really like being in shape so I figured joining a gym would be my best option. Er... are you okay?"

"Hot. Uh, I mean, I'm a little hot from warming up and all, but I could help you out if you want. I noticed you didn't get much done, running around helping others all the time." A soft smile flew across Clark's face. He seemed happy to be acknowledged.

"I like helping others." There was so much conviction in his statement, like its his true calling. It was so admirable it made your already bad crush escalate.

"So what do you need help with? What do you normally do?"

"Well today I was gonna be lifting some weights. You can count if you want." He smiled and pointed towards one of the empty powerlift benches. A part of you wanted to say that judging by his arms he didn't need that but you also wanted to see how many he could do. When you saw how many weights he packed on there you were... a little worried.

Clark though laid back with full confidence, grabbed hold of the bar with full confidence and with a tiny grunt lifted it all the way up. "Holy shit. You actually did it." If he could keep lifting those with relative ease he could for sure lift you too. "One." Clark smirked at the awestruck confidence boost he got and lowered it all the way to his chest, then up again. He was past the 20th and not even breaking a sweat. "You got the heroic build."

"Huh?" His arms faltered, a look of both surprise and horror on his face as the bar and weights almost crashed onto him, "Fuck!" Clark wheezed as he put the bar back into its place and sat up, now very out of breath, back muscles rising and falling with every breath.

"That has to be the first time I've heard you swear." It was almost funny really. You rounded up to face him and offered him a bottle of water, "You okay? That could have ended badly." Others seemed to think so too seeing as there were a few people looking your way.

"I'm fine!" Clark informed, more them then you, "Might have overdone it a little. I..." He scratched his pink-tinted cheek, "I may have wanted to impress you."

"Oh." Instead of complimenting him you flicked his forehead. It actually hurt a little, he was very hard-headed, literally, "Well you don't have to get hurt trying. I'm already impressed." The moment of silence between you seemed to stretch out forever, "I-I'm gonna go shower. Meet me at the front later, we still need to get something sweet." But first you needed to get all the frustrations and dirty thoughts out of your system.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Megumi's little sister falling head over heels for Yuji (and maybe Sukuna?)

Pairing: Megumi's sister x Yuji; Megumi's sister x Sukuna; Megumi's siter x Mugumi sibling dynamic (Megumi being a cool big bro)

Word Count: 2,7k

Synopsis: After being set on a mission with your crush Yuji, your big brother and Nobara, things don't go as planned as all and force Yuji to sacrifice himself before you have the chance to tell him how you feel. Until Sukuna appears...

Warnings: drama over drama, hurt over hurt, but also a lot of fluff

Notes: I hate to brag about my own work, but this is honestly one of my favorite fics out of my own feather so PLEASE interact in some kind of way with it - will be forever grateful <3

Tags: @sunshine7queen @selen1um-hexafluoride @sanicsmut (tagging you bc I bet you'll like that)

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, just one look at the boy next to your brother is enough to make your heart skip a beat. Yuji Itadori is a walking green flag, the best boyfriend material you stumbled upon in your life. Just seeing his bright smile is enough for you to feel like flying, his inviting brown eyes sweeping you off your feet on a regular basis.

“Oh look, there’s (y/n)”, Yuji speaks out in excitement.

Despite the fact that you are Megumi’s younger sister, you are the complete opposite to him. Kind, open-minded and oh so sweet. When Yuji joined jujutsu high, you were the first who greeted him with open arms, showed him around, trained with him, gave him every little advice you’ve had. It truly is unavoidable to fall head over heels for you in that white uniform with that smile as bright as the sun.

“Hey Yuji, hey grumpy-cat”, you greet both boys, earning a huff from your big brother.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)? Aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”, Megumi questions.

“Oh, Toge and Panda took over for me as the curse seems to be a grade 1. Also, Gojo-sensei needs me here for the training sessions”, you clarify.

Right, the training sessions. It doesn’t sit right with Megumi that you are partly responsible for them. You are a skilled jujutsu sorcerer, especially your tajutsu abilities are truly outstanding and it’s no surprise that you are the best combat fighter along with Maki. That’s why you grew especially close with Yuji…

Megumi hates the way his friend looks at you with hearts glistening in his eyes and heart hammering so loud that even he is able to hear it. It is no secret to anyone anymore that Yuji Itadori is hopelessly in love with you. How could he not? You are breathtaking beautiful and the kindest person walking on this earth with an angelic voice that could end wars. Only fools wouldn’t fall for you.

But the thing is that you seem to like him too. You, his little precious sister, the one thing he loves more than anything else in this world. The thought of you and Yuji being together alone makes his guts turn.

“Aren’t you too weak for that? You’re still a first year”, Megumi comments dryly.

“Huh? (y/n) is just as strong as you and me, maybe even better. I’m sure she will be great!”, Yuji instinctively replies.

You can’t help but admire him, that beautiful boy with the purest soul. Not even the fact that he inherits parts of the most dangerous curse on this whole planet can keep you from stumbling, crashing and falling for him.

“Yuji, I was wondering if you…If you’d like to meet up with me after today’s training”, you begin, nervously fumbling with your hair.

“No. Way. In. Hell”, Megumi hisses through gritted teeth.

Before Yuji is able to comprehend what is happening or even to answer your precious question, Megumi drags him along with him, away from your striking sight, back at Jujutsu High.

“See you, (y/n)!”, he shouts over his shoulder while waving you goodbye.

“Yeah…”, you mutter, hand dropping in disappointment.

When will you ever be able to get to know him better without your big brother interrupting every sweet moment you have?

“That girl…”

Sukuna leans forward, hand stroking his chin thoughtfully.

You are a pain in the ass, always on this brat’s mind. But you are very easy on his eyes, truly a beauty with decent abilities.

He laughs to himself, eyeing you up and down as your figure disappears.

“This will be fun…”

-the next day-

 It sounded so simple and enticing at first. Don’t fight, exclusively rescue survivors, if you encounter a special grade: run. Pairing up with Megumi, Nobara and Yuji. A difficult but manageable task.

Until you got caught in a sphere.

Until Nobara disappeared.

Until Megumi’s divine dog got killed and a special grade curse appeared in front of your very own eyes.

“We can’t leave without her!”, you yell, eyes roaming around in a desperate attempt to find Nobara.

“Not now, (y/n). We’ll find her later, right now we have to-“

This presence. The sheer presence of this creature takes your breath away without even seeing it. There is no doubt that this is…

A special grade.

None of you move, just staring blankly at this thing with its wide open eyes and alien-like appearance next to you. No. You can’t just stand there, move, try to attack it, try to fight.

Suddenly Yuji lunges himself at it, trying to slice into that frightful creature. In the blink of an eye, his hand falls to the ground along with the cursed weapon Maki lent him.

“I-ita…Itadori?”, Megumi stutters next to you.

Time stands still. You can only stand there and watch in horror as he turns around, blood squirting out of his arm.

“Yuji!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

No. No. No.

This can’t be happening. This isn’t reality, right? Maybe it’s Sukuna who tries to play tricks on you. You aren’t even able to hear what Megumi and Yuji talk about, ears ringing so violently that you feel like fainting, sweat dripping from every pore.

Is this how you’ll die? In your first year, together with the boy you never admitted your feelings to and your brother? This can’t be how it ends, you still had so much planned…

“Hey Sukuna, if I die here you die too, right? So you have to help me out.”

“Not true. Even if the part of me that’s inside you dies, there are 18 other fragments of my soul still out there. Still irritatingly enough, I don’t have control of this body. If you want to switch, go ahead and switch. But once you do, I’ll kill that brat before the cursed spirit can! Then I’ll go for that woman. She’s a lively one, I’ll have fun with her. Last but not least, there’s your little friend over there, or should I say girlfriend? What a pleasure it will be to see the light in her fade while she’s staring at the eyes of the boy she loves!”

The thought of him killing his friends with his own hands is frightening enough but killing you…Yuji stares at you in disbelief, the way your glossy eyes are widen in nothing but fear.

“I’m not going to let you do that”, he hisses automatically.

“I bet. But if you’re too focused on me, your friends are gonna die.”

“(y/n), watch out!”

Megumi grabs your collar just in time and pulls you to the side before you get hit full force by the curse. You hold onto his uniform for dear life, feeling like you’ll throw up any minute. This is all too much, way more than you can handle. You don’t want to die yet, especially not here, especially without telling Yuji how you feel. Megumi…You can’t both die here.

“Fushiguro!”

You’re still so young, so full of life…

“Fushiguro!”

Out of instinct, your eyes dart towards Yuji. Control your breathing, gain regulator over your ringing ears.

“Take (y/n) and Kugisaki and get out of here. I’ll keep this one busy until you three are out. As soon as you’re out, give me some kind of signal. Once you do…I’ll switch with Sukuna.”

“You know you can’t do that! Not with one arm against a special grade!”, Megumi yells at him while holding onto you tightly.

“Yuji…”, you breathe out, tears now running down your cheeks like waterfalls.

Please, this can’t be happening right now. What Yuji suggests…

Is his certain death.

“Look closer, it’s having fun. It’s obviously toying with us. I can at least buy us some time.”

“No!”, you cry out while tearing you away from your brother’s tight grip to grasp Yuji’s sleeve.

“I can’t just leave you here like that!”

“Please, (y/n), you need to-“

“I love you!”, you blurt out.

“I love you!, Please don’t leave me like that, I love you…”

“I love you too, (y/n), but you have to go now. Fushiguro.”

Your brother’s eyes dart towards you. Despite he has to fight back tears himself, despite the fact that he hates seeing you like that he knows exactly that Yuji is right.

With a swift motion, he frees your hand from Yuji’s sleeve and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you away from this special curse.

Away from Yuji.

“Come on, (y/n). We’re getting through this”, he interject between your toe-curling screams.

All you can feel is numbing grief. You can’t even hear your own cries anymore, vision getting blurry over Megumi’s shoulder. None of this should have happened. This was supposed to be a rescue mission, all of you should have been running the second that curse appeared. But now Yuji is in there alone with a missing hand, risking his own life to save yours.

“Divine dogs, find Kugusaki”, Megumi’s voice shouts from far away, the tiles underneath you moving in rapid motion.

Until slowly but surely, everything around you seems to get dark.

“(y/n), you need to stay with me. (y/n)!”

-later-

Rain wets your face and takes your sight as you open your eyes. Where are you? What happened? You lift yourself up from your sitting position, eyes darting towards Nobara and Ijichi-san who is about to stitch her head up.

Where is Megumi? And what about Yuji? A lump forms in your throat when memories of your last encounter begin to flood your mind. If he’s dead…

You clench your hands into fist, watery eyes darting in front of you. No, don’t think like that. There has to be a reason for Megumi being missing. He must be on his way to look after Yuji. And you’ll definitely to the same.

Your rapid steps make the water to your feet spray in every direction, sharp and heavy breaths hanging in the air. You just have to concentrate on Yuji’s signature cursed energy. After spending so much time together, it’s no problem to detect him anymore. And then you’ll hug him like there’s no tomorrow. Yes, he probably switched with Sukuna and returned as soon as the cursed spirit was gone.

Something makes you stop in your tracks. Foreshadowing, fear, hope? You can’t tell. But the atmosphere around you changed completely. Is he…?

“Yuji?”, you murmur into the heavy rain of the evening.

“Sorry, he’s not coming back.”

You can’t catch your breath, eyes wide open as the body of Yuji pins you against a nearby tree. These tattoos, that smirk.

This is Sukuna.

You fight against his claws as hard as you can only for him to chuckle over your efforts. No, his hand doesn’t move an inch away from your arm, holding you in place effortlessly.

“No need to be frightened, (y/n). Let’s talk a little, shall we?”

“Bring him back”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Who knows why, but he can’t come back. So I’ll keep you entertained”, he replies.

Sukuna wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. Oh, you really are lovely with your wet hair and skin, let alone the way you glare up at him while heavy breathing. Somehow he gets it, how this brat fell head over heels for you.

“I don’t wanna be entertained!”, you yell into his face.

With full force you rip yourself out of his firm grip and attack him. Fists fly through the air, sending him into a nearby tree.

“I’m surprised, when you beat that brat over and over I thought it was because he is weak when in fact, you are pretty strong!”, Sukuna shouts while running towards you with neck breaking speed.

You were never confronted with Sukuna. Since you know Yuji, he was always able to suppress his presence. But right now… Your blood freezes in your veins, the way his usual to tender brown eyes are lit by raging red makes shivers run down your spine.  

“Come on (y/n), give me all you’ve got!”

You fight as hard as you can, hitting him with full force over and over. Until it seems like he has enough.

He pushes you into the dirt violently, rain pouring down as all you can do is stare up into his amused face while he sits on top of you.

“Not bad, girl. Not bad”, he hums amused.

His hand sure feels good wrapped around your neck. Yes, slowly but surely Sukuna definitely understands what that brat sees in you. A ray of sunshine while being feisty, looking feminine while being so strong. Impressive, truly impressive. And how the rain pours down at your stunning face.

“Bring. Him. Back.”, you spit at him, very own eyes glistening in thick hatred.

“Come on, don’t look at me like that. After all I am technically him. Just a much better version.”

“You will never be him”, you bite back.

His weight on top of you along with his hand wrapped around your neck makes it hard to catch your breath, let alone think straight. Yuji’s uniform is now completely soaking wet, revealing his tight muscles underneath. Of course you always knew how well trained he is. After all, you touched him many times before. But this, him sitting on top of you, his hand wrapped around your neck…

You shake your head. But this isn’t Yuji Itadori. This is Sukuna, the king of curses.

“What’s on your mind? I bet you secretly like that.”

You glare up at him and his stupid grin. What are you supposed to do? Whatever is going on, it doesn’t seem as if Yuji will come back any time soon. Is Megumi around? You can detect him either.

So you have to deal with this on your own.

Fine.

One last deep breath. One last spark of focus to defeat him.

As fast as you can you lift and wrap your legs around his neck, pushing your hips through and holding his hands around your neck in place. With full force you pinch your knees, drive your hips forward and free yourself out of his grip. You can tell that he didn’t expect this, that he won’t fight back. Your fists darts towards his face, only inches away until-

“(y/n).”

Just inches before you hit his nose with full force, you stop in your tracks. No, this didn’t sound like Sukuna. Could it really be…?

“Are you okay?”

“Yuji”, you breathe out.

You tear up, a silent scream of relief escapes your lips as you lunge yourself towards him, landing on top of his chest as you hug him tightly.

“I thought I lost you…”

“Sorry that you were worried. Did Sukuna hurt you? Are you okay?”

His tender brown eyes wander along your slightly bruised body while a wave of respite washes over you. You thought he is dead. Or even worse, that Sukuna will occupy him forever. But he’s back, the boy you love more than anything else.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

Your nails dig into his biceps while you look up at him through wet lashes, rain still pouring down at both of you without mercy.

“I’m okay. Especially since you’re fine.”

Your heart flutters, emotions threaten to overflow.

Screw it. Screw all of it.

“I love you”, you breathe out.

And then your lips meet his. Crushing down at him without mercy, through the heavy rain falls. You let yourself sink into his arms, fireworks are set off inside your stomach. God, Yuji could have died today, the second he faced that cursed spirit alone you were almost certain that you’ll never see him again. But now…Now you’re lying in his arms, kissing him with so much passion that you feel like drowning and suffocating.

“I love you too, (y/n)”, he mumbles against your lips, smiling sweetly.

“God, how much I love you.”

[xechu]

[Honor & Vengeance] S. Geto - 夏油 傑

Pairing: general!suguru x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.1k

Series Warnings: please read my blog rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, explicit sexual content, depiction of gore and violence, mature themes

Chapter Warnings: mature themes

Tags: historical au, non-curse au, marriage of convenience, slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut, angst, hurt/comfort...will take a while to get there though

Summary: Under the King's decree, House Geto is expected to make their public appearance at the Eastern Campsite. You begin to prove your strength, while Suguru struggles with the realization that, perhaps, he had underestimated you.

a/n: I've decided to open up a tag list for this series, so if you're interested please leave a comment below. :) Chapter 4 might take a little longer to release, I will post an update notice as usual when it's getting close to finished. I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for reading! x

Master List: << chapter 2 | chapter 4 (to be continued) >>

[Chapter 3]: Within the Shadows

Tonight, Suguru sat in his study room and drank alone, the oil lamp which cast a warm glow throughout the room, flickered as a light summer breeze drifted in through the window. It was not a habit of his to drink; in fact, he quite disliked it. He only drank when necessary such as making appearances, dining with the King, or lifting soldiers’ morale. But he could understand the appeal now—why people drank their feelings away. 

This was not what he had anticipated. You were a mere judge’s daughter supposed to be unassuming, obedient, quiet. And yet, something about you unsettled him: you were unreadable. 

On the surface, you remained aloof. Never once did you falter at his harsh words and treatment, almost as if you had anticipated every single word in advance and braced yourself for it. You were articulate, unyielding, and reminded him of a calm before the storm. 

Yet, there were moments where he thought you might have slipped.

The first time was during the wedding ceremony. There was a nervousness in your eyes—a pleading look that he had seen countless times. It was the same look his enemies wore right before he ended their lives, a pathetic cry for mercy and understanding. The second time was earlier today, when you entered his study room. There was a flicker of childlike innocence in the way you admired his books and maps, yet, he was certain that you were far from innocent. Then, it was when you thanked him for the guest house. If you were as intelligent as you led on, then surely, you must have understood its purpose. Why give thanks for your cage, if not to only wage psychological warfare? 

He loathed it. He loathed how fate was playing a cruel joke on him—mocking him. Even with standards set so low, he had still managed to choose wrong. He didn’t ask for much, just a body to play the part, a name to wear, and a silence to keep. Many would have vied for your position and gladly assumed the role. But it was apparent that he had underestimated you. You wanted more. Perhaps to seduce him into fathering a child with you, so that you can cement your place as the true Lady Geto. 

But you will never be real. 

You are not worthy. A fraud. Someone who was trying to bite off more than they can chew. 

He had allowed a fox, cloaked in composure and cunning, into his home. And it was a mistake he would soon rectify. He would send you back to where you came from once he had accomplished what he needed to do. 

And now, as he looked at the scroll on his desk, it seemed that the two of you would very soon have to take the stage again. The thought of having to pretend with someone like you filled him with a sense of dread he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Until then, he must endure.

Until then, this is what he must convince himself is the truth.

Because it was easier to believe you were calculating. To brace himself against a foe. Than to wonder what you truly wanted, or if you wanted anything at all.

A knock at the door broke his dark thoughts. Perhaps the alcohol was fogging his mind, but at that moment, he had fully imagined you to come through that door—brazen and insolent.

Instead, it was Haibara.

“Geto-sama,” Haibara took note of the bottle of wine that sat on Suguru’s desk. A small sigh escaped him. 

Without a word, he crossed the room and lowered himself into the chair across from Suguru, studying his old friend with a gentle, though unmistakably judgmental, gaze. He had come to report how the tour went but now, sensing the melancholy in the air, he decided to hold back on the report.

“Would you like to keep me company?” Suguru asked, taking out another small cup and placing it in front of him.

"Feeling lonely?" Haibara teased lightly, but he knew why his old friend felt compelled to drink. He watched the alcohol smoothly pour into his cup.

Suguru only let out a low hum, rough and reluctant. Enough for Haibara to understand that his friend was not in the mood to talk, but also did not want to be alone with his thoughts.

A comfortable silence passed between the two young men, as they drank without word. 

The bottle slowly emptied between them, sip by sip, pour by pour. 

Though the alcohol dulled their tongues, the thoughts in their minds still rang clear.

…

“The King expects House Geto’s first appearance soon,” Suguru suddenly broke the silence, leaning back in his seat. 

His eyes stared at the flickering oil lamp, as if it were some mystical artifact holding all the universe’s answers—answers that he wished he, too, could grasp.

“Where?” Haibara asked, surprise evident in his tone.

“At the Eastern Campsite.” 

“That’s…an odd request. I don’t see why that requires the presence of Lady Geto.”

Suguru slowly nodded once, “I had the same thought. Sato is scheming something, but the risk should be low.” 

“And a campsite isn’t suited for a lady either,” Haibara muttered.

“That matters not,” Suguru downed another cup of wine, the smooth burn now felt comforting.

"That woman is a lot more cunning and intelligent than she lets on," Suguru said, but it was more to convince himself than Haibara. “If there were to be any danger, I’m sure she could claw her way out.”

Haibara studied him for a long moment, swirling the wine in his cup. “If I may give you some advice as a friend and not your advisor…”

Suguru let out a reluctant sigh. “Go on.”

“Lady Geto is intelligent, yes, but my observation of her is not one of a cunning woman. She is no threat.”

“And what are you trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say—is that you can still keep your distance without being heartless, Suguru.”

Haibara’s voice was calm. Steady.

“You know better than I that making enemies—both within and beyond the walls of your home—will drive you to your grave before your ambition even has the chance to be realized.”

Suguru bitterly scoffed but did not refute his words. In the end, he couldn’t reject the truth.

He had known since the night he had sent his offer to your father. But Suguru had long accepted that his path was his alone to walk on, there was no one he could rely on—not even Haibara, at least not entirely. The best way for you to be his ally was to stay out of his way.

Sensing his inner turmoil, Haibara let out a low chuckle and refilled his friend’s cup—a small gesture to show he would not press the matter further.

The two men continued to drink through the night, keeping each other company in silence.

—

Lady Geto,

It is an honor to have received your letter.

You have not once left my thoughts since the moment you left home to be with Lord Geto.

I visited your father last week, and rest assured, he is doing well.

No matter where you are, I will always answer your call.

By the time this letter reaches you, I will already be on my way.

There is so much I want to say to you.

I will see you in two days’ time.

Yumi

Excitement and anticipation bubbled within you as you clutched Yumi’s letter—now worn and crumpled from restless hands. Though there was no grand welcoming, the gentle summer breeze and the clear skies seemed to cast the perfect backdrop. You had eagerly prepared for her arrival ever since the note had reached you. To see a familiar face, to reclaim a small piece of home, was enough to spark hope. 

Haibara had offered to welcome Yumi with you, but you politely declined. After all, this was your chance to test the waters. In order to confirm if your name truly held weight within these walls, you would judge it in how Yumi was received under your introduction.

The distant creak of wooden wheels and the slow, steady clop of oxen hooves grew louder until the lacquered cart finally pulled to a stop before you. Yumi hopped out, barely able to contain her excitement.

“My Lady! Oh, how I’ve missed you.” She flung her arms around you, nearly knocking you both off balance.

“Yumi,” your voice cracked. 

This reunion had made you more emotional than you thought. The heartiness of her embrace made you realize just how deeply you’ve yearned for familiarity.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that things could be simple again.

Yumi had been a trusted friend of yours since childhood, practically like sisters. When you were younger, she would often spend time at your family home. The two of you would wander the halls and surrounding garden, imagining the life of endless adventures and discoveries. 

As you held her, your mind drifted to the very force that had shaped both of your fates: the Merchant Guild.

Nobody knew exactly how or when the Merchant Guild was established—only that, for generations, they functioned as an enigmatic, faceless network that operated among the shadows. Though their dealings were discreet, their presence was no secret. Even the King himself was aware of their existence. Yet, he chose not to interfere. After all, the Guild served an important purpose: they kept the lower classes occupied, fed, and in relative harmony through trade and employment. It was less governance for him to worry about.

A quiet commensalism. 

He let them be, so long as they stayed in their lane.

In recent years, however, that quiet respect had begun to sour. There were whispers that King Sato had become increasingly wary of the authority that the Guild bore, and the social influence they had over the lower class. Thus, he had ordered in secrecy the spread of propaganda in hopes to sway the public opinion of the guild, a call for unified action to purge the guild and its leader. Mercenaries eagerly chased the bounty, but they all described it as grasping at shadows. Nobody knew where to look. It was as if the Merchant Guild itself was nothing more than a conspiracy theory—spawned from the paranoia of a delusional king.

But you knew better than anyone that the Guild was very much real, because Yumi had found her calling with them, a secret you had learned very early. 

And you had sworn to protect her identity—her life.

—

After the unceremonious welcome, you walked alongside Yumi back to the guest house. At first, she had assumed it was her own living quarters, but the harsh reality of your situation quickly became clear.

“My Lady, this is…” Disbelief laced her voice.

“This is fine, Yumi,” you said as you opened the door to the bedroom. “This living arrangement isn’t as terrible as it seems.”

“I thought Lord Geto was a gracious husband. Your father thinks you’re in good hands—!”

“My father will not know of this,” you firmly interjected. “Geto-sama just needs time to warm up.”

But you knew those words were unconvincing, if you couldn’t even convince yourself of it.

“This isn’t right,” Yumi’s voice shook as she called you by your name. It had been a while since you’d heard it.

“The guest house may not be as grand as the main estate, but look closely—everything here was arranged with care.” You tried to comfort her, understanding her concern.

“Geto-sama does not deserve your kind words and understanding! He doesn’t know whose dignity he is stepping on!” she cried.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. Her anger on your behalf told you more than enough that you had found a genuine friend.

“Don’t worry,” you reassured. “I have my ways of dealing with Geto-sama. For now… I hope you won’t mind reliving our childhood days—and sharing a bed with me.”

Truth be told, the road ahead was long, and the uncertainties many. It would be a lie to say you had it all figured out. Nevertheless, only two options lay before you: either submit to your husband’s hand, or ascertain your own future.

Yumi may have voiced it aloud, but you had long understood the reality of your situation. Life as Lady Geto would not be fair, it would not be easy, and no one was going to rescue you.

But you refused to be silenced. You refused to remain hidden in the shadows. You refused to become a thankless ornament, shown off only when needed and tucked away when you weren’t.

If you were to survive, it would be by your own hand and not by anyone else’s mercy.

—

Thanks to Haibara’s detailed tour a few days ago, you were able to guide Yumi around the estate grounds without issue. It appeared that among the staff of House Geto, your authority had indeed been restored; they all greeted you with utmost respect and acknowledged Yumi as your lady-in-waiting.

“Please, Miss Yumi, if there is anything you require from us, let us know,” one of the servants said.

You smiled at the exchange, content that your plan had worked so quickly.

As the two of you continued down the path leading to the training grounds, your steps slowed at the sharp ring of steel clashing. You knew, once you rounded the corner, you would see your husband.

The man who had made it clear to you that your existence here should be one of a ghost.

You steeled yourself and walked forward.

From a distance, you watched Haibara and Suguru spar. Suguru’s skills were undeniable—his strength, his form, were precise and unrelenting. Every strike of his blade was efficient, calculated, deadly: aimed to kill.

There was no hesitation, no mercy. You doubted there would be, even if the opponent were you. In fact, if it were you, you were certain he’d strike you down with his full might.

“My Lady!” Haibara called out, abruptly halting the spar, and jogging toward you.

You acknowledged him with a slight nod, forcing your eyes to stay trained on his face—even as you took in his disheveled hair, the sheen of sweat on his bare chest, and the casual strength in every step.

Suguru was similarly attired. But you continued to hold yourself together, pretending not to notice such things.

“Geto-sama’s swordsmanship is impeccable, is it not?” Haibara grinned, his breathing only slightly uneven from the spar.

“It is,” you replied calmly, glancing over at him.

Suguru returned you an icy stare.

“This is Yumi, my lady-in-waiting,” you gestured, smiling slightly. “Thanks to you, I’ve been able to give her an adequate tour.”

“Miss Yumi,” he greeted smoothly, “If there is ever anything you require, you can always find me.”

“Thank you, Master Haibara,” Yumi dipped her head politely.

“I can’t help but notice you are rather interested in the training field, Lady Geto,” Haibara mused, his tone light. “Perhaps you’re interested in sports?”

“I—”

“My Lady is quite proficient with the sword,” Yumi cut in, a challenging glint in her eyes.

“What a surprise!” Haibara’s voice carried genuine astonishment. “I should have known, from the way you were so captivated.”

“It is only a small hobby,” you tried to deflect.

“Then surely we must spar!”

You hesitated. Not because you doubted your ability, but because you could feel an intense warning radiating from Suguru, wordless but unmistakable: do not cross this line. And you understood. This was a line you didn’t need to—and shouldn’t—cross.

You shook your head gently. “Please, don’t let me take up your time. Perhaps we could share a friendly spar another day.”

“I shall hold you to it then, my Lady!” 

You excused yourself, and almost made it out of sight when his voice cut through the air.

“Lady Geto,” Suguru said.

“Yes, Geto-sama?” you replied, turning to him despite the pounding in your chest. His presence, his gaze, his voice—they didn’t just unnerve you. They chilled you to the bone.

“We depart for the Eastern Campsite at tomorrow’s sunrise. The King has summoned House Geto.”

You nodded once. “I shall see you tomorrow morning, then.”

As you turned to leave, the clashing of blades resumed behind you. 

But something felt…wrong.

You did not doubt the King’s summons was real, but why request the general’s entire household? The Eastern Campsite was no place for ceremony.

Everything still felt like a shot in the dark, and there was only so much you could prepare for.

But for now, you would play the role.

Observe. Endure. Prepare.

—

The very next morning, you waited with Yumi a few paces behind the main gate. Just beyond the heavy doors awaited a small entourage of highly trained soldiers. You had made sure to arrive before your husband and Haibara. After all, General Geto and his wife should be seen stepping out together.

The very moment the gates opened and you took that first step, every glance, every breath, every movement would need to sell the illusion.

This time, you figured it would be best to let your husband take the lead. And you would follow.

“Lady Geto, Yumi,” Haibara called out.

You turned around to meet Haibara, Suguru walked beside him, his gaze sliding coldly past you without meeting your eyes. It was clear that he was keen on holding out his disdain towards you till the very last second.

“Geto-sama, Haibara,” you slightly bowed. 

Suguru acknowledged the both of you with a slight nod. Without a word, he continued toward the gate. You matched his pace, forcing yourself to steady the anxious knot tightening inside your chest.

It was your first time seeing him in his official uniform—the neat lines of the dark fabric, and the sword fastened on the side of his hip. Even the hilt alone was enough to tell that this was a sword crafted by a master swordsmith. Upon the pommel bore the crest of House Geto: a peony, symbolizing honor, prosperity, good fortune, and love. 

General Geto looked regal, perhaps even more so than the King himself. It wasn’t in his garments or accessories, but it was his presence. And the way it effortlessly commanded attention without ever needing to ask for it.

It was hard to believe that this man was your husband. Though even calling him that felt wrong.

As the heavy doors swung open, the four of you were greeted with enthusiastic salutes. 

“General Geto, Lady Geto,” the soldiers greeted in synchronized discipline. 

Suguru smiled to them, “It is good to see you again.”

This was the first time he had smiled since the wedding.

“Yes, it is also an honor to finally meet Lady Geto,” the soldiers all bowed at once.  

Your eyes widened at the unexpected greeting. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. Thank you for coming to escort us.” 

“It is our duty, Lady Geto! It is our honor to serve you and General Geto.”

“Ah, but our deepest apologies,” one of the soldiers interrupted. “We did not expect that there will be four representatives from House Geto…we have only prepared three horses.”

A heavy silence pressed down on the group.

“That would be my mistake,” Haibara cleared his throat. “I have forgotten to account for Miss Yumi here, who is Lady Geto’s lady-in-waiting.” 

“That matters not. Time is of the essence. I will ride with my wife,” Suguru said without hesitation, as he rested a hand on your back.

You looked up at him, there was not a hint of anger or irritation in his features.

The way he slipped between masks and dropped them without effort was, quite frankly, terrifying.

As you approached the black horse, you could sense Suguru just a breath behind you—calm, composed, and unnervingly quiet.

“Do you need help?” his voice murmured low at your ear.

“No,” you answered softly. Without hesitation, you gathered your skirts and mounted in one smooth motion, settling into the saddle.

A moment later, you felt him swing up behind you, the subtle shift of the horse’s weight pressing his presence flush against your back. You could feel his warm breath ghosting the nape of your neck.

His closeness gave you chills. You shifted closer to the front of the horse, feeling the rising discomfort, until his arm firmly wrapped around your waist.

You froze. Heat rising to your ears. 

“If you keep moving, we’re going to fall,” he muttered.

The journey to the Eastern Campsite was a long ride, even on horseback. And the travel was uncomfortable to say the least. Suguru would make conversation effortlessly with his soldiers, it was the first time you saw him among his comrades, and if you had to be honest, he seemed like a kind and respectable general. You would have been fooled if you hadn’t already seen his true colors behind closed doors. 

His arms remained steady around you the entire ride, while he held onto the reins, never once letting go. As if he was ensuring your safety, or prepared to catch you if you fall. But each time you see this side of him—kind, understanding, and present, a small pang tugged in your chest.

Because you knew it was a lie. 

It felt like a mockery. His way of taunting you, showing you he was capable of such warmth, but that you were simply not deserving of it.

His kindness was a weapon, and the kinder he appeared, the deeper he cut.

—

As the sun began to set, the entourage decided to set up camp at an open field for the night. 

Normally, the soldiers would handle the work while the general oversaw from a distance. But tonight, with the group’s small number, it felt wrong to simply stand and watch. 

Nearby, Suguru had given a few low-voiced instructions before slipping away toward the river, a fishing line casually slung over his shoulder. As you watched him disappear into the distance, you let out a small exhale. The distance, you thought, was much needed—for you and him. 

The soldiers moved with efficient ease, unpacking the supply wagon, hammering stakes into the ground, setting up canvas tents. Without wasting more time, you decided to make yourself useful and gravitated to where the food was being laid out—bundles of dried rice, jars of pickled vegetables, and thin strips of dried meat from the wagon.

Taking the rice, you rolled up your sleeves and began rinsing rice at the edge of the camp, your fingers working deftly, the cool water biting at your skin. A couple of soldiers glanced your way, the look of surprise on their face was evident.

“I didn’t expect Lady Geto to be so adept,” one of them whispered. 

“Perhaps that’s why the General chose her. He’s a soldier, after all—men like us respect competence,” another said in agreeance. 

Though you appreciated their kind words and admiration, you tried your best to shut them out. Under normal circumstances, this would have been flattering—perhaps even welcomed. But you knew the circumstances were far from normal. On the bright side, you suppose that your actions thus far have been convincing. 

Suguru returned with a net of fish just as you were stirring the pot of porridge now resting over the fire. One of the soldiers immediately sprang forward to take the net and began preparing the fish.

Meanwhile, Suguru approached the campfire, settling across from you. His gaze was steady—observing you with a quiet intensity, making it hard to focus. His eyes flicked down, noting the way your sleeves were still rolled up, the faint splashes of water darkening the fabric at your wrists.

For a moment, his mind wandered; wondering what your life might have been before marrying him. It wasn’t common for noblewomen to be adept with chores or kitchen tasks. Did your family home lack housekeepers and servants?

“My Lady!” Yumi exclaimed, hurrying over to the fire. “Allow me to take care of the rest.”

She gently plucked the ladle from your hand, gesturing you to take a seat. “Please, sit with Geto-sama. The preparations are nearly finished.”

Your back stiffened as you rose quietly and made your way over, settling beside Suguru.

His composure remained perfect, even as your arm brushed against his, but his eyes remained fixated ahead. You let out a small breath, the crisp crackle of the fire, and Yumi’s busy presence, offered a fragile sense of normalcy. 

…

Dinner was simple: bowls of porridge passed around, grilled fish laid out, and the pickled vegetables were shared among the group.

You sat beside Suguru near the fire, as was expected—the general and his wife, presented side by side. You could feel the quiet weight of his presence beside you: his steady posture, the subtle shifts of his movements, and the invisible wall of cold distance he kept drawn between you both. A wall that was only apparent to you, and no one else.

You gently placed a piece of fish into Yumi’s bowl, knowing full well that she would never serve herself first. 

Suguru’s gaze flicked towards you—then stilled.

The small gesture pulled up a memory that was buried deep inside him. A memory that he’d rather not remember. He saw his mother’s hands, quietly setting aside the best bite for his younger sister. Followed by the sounds of laughter echoing faintly in the background. 

Suguru inhaled slowly, grounding himself back to the present. His jaw tightened ever so slightly. He said nothing and simply watched. Something unreadable flickering behind his dark eyes.

As dinner continued, it was shared with laughter and easy camaraderie among the soldiers. Mostly, you and Yumi remained quiet—observing, while occasionally letting out a small laugh at a joke someone would crack. Until Haibara, in his usual fashion, pulled you into conversation. His usual playfulness glinting in his eyes, the kind that already made you dread what was coming.

“According to Miss Yumi, Lady Geto is quite skilled with the sword!” He exclaimed. 

“It is but a small interest, Haibara,” you tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, as you felt curious gazes drift toward you. “It is nothing worth noting.” 

“Why not let us be the judge of that?” Haibara grinned. It was apparent he had no intention of letting this go.

Intrigued murmurs stirred among the soldiers, while Suguru remained without a word, sipping on a small cup of hot wine. 

“Allow me the honor to spar with you, Lady Geto!” One of the soldiers stepped forward and volunteered.

Whistles and cheers rippled through the group, lifting the mood into something light and spirited. Not wanting to spoil the moment, you gave a small, graceful nod—relenting to the challenge.

—

The crossing of blades does not lie. It is, perhaps, the most honest conversation one can have with another. When two opponents meet steel to steel, they learn everything there is to know. Every clash, every parry, every stroke tells a story. Their convictions, their regrets, their hidden truths.

Everything you had said or done until now could have been written off as strategy. Performance. Manipulation. But as Suguru watched you cross blades with one of his most seasoned soldiers, a chill ran down his spine.

The way you moved was fluid, instinctive, precise. It mirrored that of an experienced general—one that nearly rivaled his own.

You fought with a cold, impenetrable expression. The same expression you wore whenever you looked at him.

The outcome had been clear from the start. Your controlled and practiced movements left room for little doubt. 

You were going to win.

But in an unexpected turn, his soldier parried you. Your blade slipped from your grasp and clattered to the ground.

“Oh—!” You gasped. 

Everyone erupted into cheers and applauded. 

“That was still impressive, Lady Geto!” Haibara said. 

“It’s no wonder the General is so smitten with you!” One soldier said. 

“A true match made in heaven!” Another chimed. 

“Look at our General, he’s so impressed that he’s at a loss for words!” They laughed heartily.

You lost.

But why? Victory had been all but secured.

You should have seen that parry coming. It was the kind of slip a novice would make.

Which could only mean—you had lost on purpose.

Only Suguru seemed to realize that you threw the match, and that realization stirred something inexplicable inside him. 

You had not only afforded the grace and mercy to his soldier, but you dictated the outcome of this battle.

There was no denying it: you were formidable. 

—

It felt as though the atmosphere had slightly shifted after the spar. Suguru said nothing and then disappeared off somewhere.

Did he find it distasteful? That Lady Geto had entertained a sparring match? Or perhaps the compliments earlier about the two of you being a good pair irked him. 

It was jarring, to say the least, every time you received compliments like that. Because the truth of the matter was that neither of you could stand each other. 

Most likely though, he just loathed the idea of sharing a tent with you, and went to spend time in solitude before he was forced to share the same space as you again.

It had been a good and honest intention from his comrades when they happily presented the bigger tent. 

“For General Geto and Lady Geto!” They said proudly.

But you knew that Suguru was probably seething inside. You, too, felt uneasy and flustered by the arrangement. You never shared a confined space with a man before…let alone a bed. 

As you made your way to the tent, ready to turn in for the night, your ears caught a quiet conversation.

“This escort is a nice respite,” one of the soldiers murmured, easing down onto a crate with a weary sigh.

“Though strange, is it not? For the General and his lady to ride with us.”

“It is. And the Eastern Campsite has been uneasy of late. It’s no place for a general’s family.”

Another voice joined, hushed. “Have you noticed? The supply wagons—they’ve been arriving more frequently.”

“Yes…it feels as though we are standing at the cusp of something grim.”

A silence fell between them for a breath.

“Let us hope it passes peacefully,” came a quiet reply. “My wife is expecting our first child at home.”

A pang struck deep in your chest. You were no stranger to loss and grief. But hearing it spoken so plainly—the weight these soldiers carried, the sacrifices their families bore alongside them—pressed on your heart with an ache. 

Even Suguru was not immune to death, though people often tend to forget. For a brief moment, you almost felt ridiculous for even trying to fight him behind closed doors.

Yet one thing was now certain.

This conversation only confirmed your suspicions: there was indeed something wrong at the Eastern Campsite.

What you still did not know was just how deep the trouble ran.

—

Footsteps approached from behind and you straighten yourself up, hoping that you weren’t caught eavesdropping. You turn around only to see it was your husband. He returns to you an empty gaze. 

Perhaps it was the conversation you had just overheard. Or perhaps it was under the moonlight. But as you looked to your husband, beyond his empty eyes, you saw a glimmer of something foreign. For the first time, you found yourself questioning…did he always look so lonely?

You quickly looked away as he brushed past you, heading towards the tent. Slowly, you followed behind.

Inside, Suguru makes his way towards a small wooden chair in the corner. You stood there, hesitant, unsure of what to do next. Without a word, he sat down, arms folding loosely across his chest, his gaze remained distant and unreadable. 

“The bed is yours,” he said evenly. It was a reflexive formality—an offering that costed him nothing.

There was no warmth, no softness, just a quiet acknowledgment of what was expected. You lowered yourself onto the bedding without protest, curling your fingers into the blanket. 

You weren’t sure how long you lay there—pretending to sleep. Cautiously, you cracked your eyes open, glancing over at him. His head rested against his hand, propped on the armrest, his breath shallow, indicating that he, too, was not yet asleep.

Finally, you gathered the courage to ask him. “…Is there trouble in the Eastern Campsite?”

As expected, he did not reply. A small resigned sigh escaped your lips, but you decide to try again.

“Perhaps I can hel—”

“You will do nothing,” Suguru dismissed coolly. “Except stay in your own lane.”

It was dark, so he couldn’t see the expression that you bore, which was a blessing, because you felt yourself slowly cracking. Your hands balled into the blanket, hoping to quash your simmering frustration.

It was a difficult feat.

You couldn’t understand Suguru Geto. 

He was more difficult to read than any book, more ruthless than any weapon, and the toughest negotiation you ever had to face.

“You must also conduct yourself properly as Lady Geto when we get to the campsite,” he said. “The wife of a general does not help with soldier’s task, and certainly does not spar with them.”

A tense silence fills the air. 

Suddenly, the tent felt too small, too suffocating. You wanted to storm out and stay with Yumi instead. But you resisted the urge, remaining rooted in your involuntary obligations at keeping up with appearances.

If he was so keen on setting the image, why couldn’t he just pretend all the way through? Was it really such a big ask for him to treat you like an equal—to just speak to you like an equal?

“I don’t understand why you resent me so.” The words slipped from your tongue in a moment of vulnerability.

Suguru looked up from where he sat, his gaze boring into you. 

Again, you had challenged him—challenged his control. Asking difficult questions. Forcing him to look inward.

He, too, wished he could have a proper answer. But nothing was ever simple. 

His life had never afforded him such luxury. 

Even if you were vying for the title of Lady Geto, was it really so wrong? He doubted anyone from the list of candidates was in it for love. 

So, then, why did he resent you? 

It would have been simpler if he could call it hatred. But it wasn’t hatred. 

It was more so you vexed him. 

Because deep down, in the corners of his heart he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that you wanted nothing.

You hadn’t fought him. You hadn’t begged. Not so much even flinched when he offered you freedom to take a secret lover. He didn’t know your story. Maybe you already had someone you loved before being promised to him. Like him, maybe your heart had already belonged to someone else but you were forced into a marriage with him.

Whatever the reason may be, in this marriage of convenience, it seemed that there was nothing convenient for you. Most would think that you had the better end of the bargain—power, status, prestige—but in truth, it was very much the opposite. 

It would have been easier if you truly coveted the title of Lady Geto. At least then he could have labeled it as a mutual benefit. 

You were very much your father’s daughter: the both of you had a clear conscience. 

Suguru had never known your father personally. He was not widely talked about in the palace like some other judges. Only a few whispers of him here and there. He did not rub shoulders or curry favor—he simply did what needed to be done. He was a man of principles. It reminded Suguru much of his own father—they probably would have been good friends. 

It was respectable. Admirable, even.

But in the game of palace politics, goodwill and integrity seldom take you far. If anything, they paint a target on your back. There is a fine line between righteousness and arrogance—and in a world ruled by ambition and corruption, righteousness is often written off as arrogance. A man of principle is seen not as noble, but as disruptive. Difficult. Threatening. After all, why play by the rules when everyone around you gains more by bending them?

Suguru leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose. He could almost hear Haibara’s voice—calm, reasonable, always cutting through when he least wanted it.

You could keep your distance without being heartless, Suguru. 

Haibara’s advice echoed in his mind. He bristled at how his friend was the voice of reason, and he hated to admit Haibara was right most of the time.

He didn’t resent you. 

But he resented that you were no longer so easy to dismiss.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

I do not own any of the images/photos used on this banner.

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) [teaser]

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

READ FULL FIC HERE!

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (none in teaser) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT: est. 25k

WORD COUNT [teaser]: ~820

RELEASE DATE: est. october 2nd 2023

!PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST (ageless blogs WILL NOT BE ADDED)!

masterlist

WARNINGS [!is subject to change upon publishing of the full fic!]: slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, (smut tags in the full fic)

[A/N]: I worked rlly hard on the banner pls look at it ‼️ enjoy hehe also this is probably gonna be way more than 25k but I supposed its better than overshooting

teaser under the cut!

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down. 

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention. 

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel. 

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car. 

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further. 

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns. 

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.” 

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard. 

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended. 

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister. 

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.” 

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat. 

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride. 

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.” 

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | 16:63 ⏤BABY FEVER

SUM. : you and remus meet an adorable baby while grocery shopping

TAGS. : husband remus ; wife reader ; modern au ; muggle au ; married au ; baby fever ; mentions of birth control ; honeymoon phase ; domestic fluff

LENGTH : 0.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

You and Remus were doing your weekly shop, list in hand as he pushed the shopping cart beside you. It’s a peaceful routine the two of you got into after making it official and moving in together. Every Friday, after the two of you got off work, he’d pick you up and you’d both go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.  

“Should we buy welsh cakes or make them ourselves?” you mutter aloud as Remus chuckles beside you. 

“You mean ‘or you make them’, you know I’m useless around ovens,” he presses an affectionate kiss against your temple and smiles at the giggle it draws from your pretty lips — music to his ears. People said it was impossible to stay in the honeymoon phase of your relationship for so long but you and Remus debunked all of that. From a distance, the two of you still looked like newlyweds. 

“I suppose I have some time to make a few batches after we get home today,” you smile at your husband, “we can have some before tea,” 

“Sounds like a plan, dove,” Remus agrees and, as you add a small bag of self-raising flour to your cart, you hear a cry to your right and turn to see a baby perched in the cart seat, reaching its small pudgy hands down for a small dog plush they must have dropped. To the left of the baby, you saw, who you assumed was the child’s mother softly ask what the matter was, her brows furrowed from worry. It appears as though she didn’t see that her child had dropped their toy. 

Before you could take action, Remus was already handing the small plush back to the child, “here you go,” he whispers softly, “no more tears now,”

The mother flashed a smile at your husband, “Thank you so much,” she then turned to her child, “let’s say thank you to the kind man, darling,” she took the child’s small wrist and made them wave at you and Remus, who moved to stand beside you with an adoring smile on his face. Seeming to understand what their mother was asking of them, the baby gives a gummy grin with the few teeth they had as their eyes disappear behind their pudgy, flushed cheeks. At this, the mother gave one final grateful smile before moving on with her shopping, her baby hugging their beloved plush to their chest. 

“How cute,” Remus mutters, smiling and waving a final goodbye at the baby as he gradually begins to realise how quiet you’ve been. 

“Remus…” he looks at you with soft eyes as yours become rounded when looking up at him, they sparkled with want as you push your bottom lip out into a pout. It’s a look he’s familiar with; it’s the one you always pulled when you wanted something so he’s quick to anticipate any request you wanted to make.

“Yes, dove?”

“I want a baby,” 

“A–...” speechless, Remus stares at you with his jaw slackened and his eyes wide. A heat crawls up his neck and floods his cheeks as he stiffens in the hopes that the tightening of his pants weren’t just his imagination, “a…a baby?...”

“Yeah…” your whining voice makes a heat pool in his lower abdomen and, just when he thought you couldn’t make things worse, your arms wrap around his torso to squeeze him close. He looks down with red cheeks as you place your chin on his chest and continue pouting, “I want a baby now!”

“D-Dove— we can’t–”

“Why not?” 

“..y-you’re on birth control–!”

“I’ll get off it,” you quickly reply, grinning up at him like the little minx you are. He knows that you can see the profound effect your statement has on him, “please, honey~” like all of your requests before, Remus can’t say no to you. 

He’ll give you a baby and he’s not going to wait for you to get off birth control. 

NAVI.

A/N : i'm dying from a horrible flu and fever but i had to write this before i lost the inspiration to, again, this was inspired by tiktok XD i hope you darlings enjoy! i'll try to get better as soon as possible so i can get back to writing again ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

TAGLIST : @rosalyn-s @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani

[zigrethsnotebook]

3 times Stan fake-proposed to you and 1 time he didn’t

Stan x Reader

words: 4,123

tags: sfw, toothrotting fluff

a/n: was allowed to borrow the idea from @stanpineskisser <3

1. Stan and you had been dating for a couple of months now. The town was slowly warming up to the idea of Mister Mystery dating someone so... 'out of his league' as you'd once heard it. You knew they just thought you were a gold-digger but you also did not care. You loved Stan. And even though he had a hard time saying it out loud, you knew he loved you, too.

Stan didn’t need to tell you how he felt, because he showed you through little gestures and gifts he'd get you. (But to call you a gold-digger because of that? He stole most of the stuff anyway!) Like today, when you two went on a date to Greasy's Diner.

It wasn't supposed to be anything fancy, just a normal dinner date with Stan. But as things so often are with this man, it ended up being anything but normal.

When you two entered the Diner one thing immediately caught your eye. A new little machine stood next to the coat rack at the door. It was one of those things where you'd put a coin in, turn the handle a couple of times and a little plastic ball filled with some cheap toy would fall out. You loved these when you were a kid! The toys were always terrible but something about it always made you get something whenever you saw one of these.

Your excitement and nostalgia got the better of you. So while Stan put both of your coats away, you went and got yourself something from the machine. Grinning from ear to ear you followed Stan to an empty booth. You waited until after you had ordered your drinks to open the plastic ball.

"Where'd you get that?" Stan asked as you struggled to tear the two halves apart. "The machine at the door." You didn't even look up to answer him, you knew he wouldn't like it, call it a waste of money. He'd be right, of course, but you didn’t need to hear it.

While Stan was looking for the machine you finally managed to pull the ball apart, sending the contents flying across the table, one of the things rolling off of it. You quickly gathered them all in one spot in front of you while Stan stood up. "I gotcha."

When he spotted the little dark blue plastic ring in front of the table, he bent down on one knee, picked it up and presented it to you. You were about to take it from him when Lazy Susan appeared behind him, holding your drinks. She gasped before saying: "Oh my, Mr. Pines! Are you proposing already?" Stan looked at her quizzically for a second when you saw an opening for a free meal.

"Oh my god, Stan! I never would have thought! This is so sudden...!" You put on a real show and Stan was quick to follow your lead. "What can I say? These past few months have been the best of my life and I never want them to end! Please... marry me?"

The words were right but both of you spoke them like you were the leads in a cheap soap-opera. It didn’t matter though. Everyone cheered when you said 'yes' and fell into his arms. Stan pushed the ring onto your finger and you kissed him as dramatically as you could.

Once you two had settled back into your seats, now holding hands and making heart-eyes at each other, Lazy Susan put your drinks on your table. "Well, I think it goes without saying that you two are getting the special today. On the house! Aren't you just adorable!" You both thanked her and grinned at each other as she turned around.

After dinner, on your way back to the shack, Stan couldn't help but laugh. "Nice stunt you pulled there. Quick thinking - I like that." You smirked at him. "I learned from the best."

He shifted in his seat a little, the words he was about to say making him slightly nervous. "You do realize we'll have to pretend to be engaged now, right?" You chuckled before answering sarcastically. "Oh no, what a nightmare!"

Stan joined you with a chuckle of his own. However, he couldn't shake the warm, fuzzy feeling that was blooming in his chest at the thought of being engaged to you.

2. About two weeks later Stan asked you out to dinner again. "And put on something nice. We're going to a fancy restaurant today. Because I'm planning to propose to you!" You were about to question him when he showed you a little blue box. When he opened it you recognised the little blue plastic ring from the Diner and smiled a crooked smile.

"And here I was, thinking you were going to propose to me for real," you sighed dramatically, "but I suppose a scam for a free dinner will do." You smirked at Stan as he put the box into his jacket. "I'll be back in five." You kissed his cheek and turned on your heels to put on some nicer clothes.

As you walked away you had to calm your racing heart with a few steadying breaths. What happened at Greasy's was dumb luck, but the fact that Stan wanted to pull the same scam again, on purpose this time, left you feeling giddy.

You lived for the excitement Stan brought into your life. Scamming, shoplifting, pug smuggling or robbing his rival of a clown painting - Nothing beat the adrenalin rush of doing something illegal, running away hand in hand and then sinking into each other, laughing hysterically.

This scam in particular though? It felt a little different. You knew that this would only work if the people at the restaurant believed that you two were so in love that you'd want to marry each other. Not that it was very difficult for you. You two had been dating a good while and you really loved him. But the topic of marriage had never even crossed your mind before.

Then again, this was only a scam. He wasn't actually proposing to you. After all, you had roped him into this at Greasy's and now he was just taking advantage of a good situation.

Still, as you looked in the mirror, all dressed up in your fanciest dark red suit, you decided that you'd put on an even better show than last time.

When you met Stan again in the living room he eyed you up and down before stepping towards you and grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to him. His voice was low. "You look gorgeous, doll."

Your hands found his chest and traced his skin in the part of his shirt he'd left unbuttoned. "You clean up nice yourself, handsome." You all but purred at him. Stan chuckled, a smirk on his face. "Don't tempt me, sweetcheeks. Let's get dinner first."

You both chuckled and pulled apart so Stan could lead you to the front door. He kept one of your hands in his up until he opened the car door for you, allowing you to climb inside, before he shut the door. He walked over to the driver's side and you two drove off.

Stan had picked a restaurant a good 40 minute drive from the shack so by the time you arrived you were starting to get really hungry. Stan had put in a reservation beforehand which meant you were quickly seated and presented with a nice red wine Stan had ordered for the both of you.

He promised you he'd only drink one glass and then switch to soda and you believed him. Stan had assured you time and time again that nothing was more important to him than your safety.

You held his hands on top of the table and you both stared into each other's eyes, really going all out on the lovey-dovey stuff. Normally, Stan would roll his eyes and groan at people who behaved like this, but when he could use it to scam someone? He was not holding back.

He softly spoke sweet nothings over the table, quiet enough to be believable, loud enough to make sure the staff heard him. He peppered your hands in soft kisses and smiled at you like you were the light of his life.

Hell, if you didn’t plan for this to be a scam then you would have believed him. You couldn't help the way a gentle blush crept onto your cheeks at the sight of Stan picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles without breaking eye contact with you.

Just as Stan saw the waiter approaching again out of the corner of his eyes, he put on the real show. He stood up, his chair screeching backwards slightly and declared: "I can't wait any longer." Stan pulled the blue box from one of his pockets and got down on one knee in front of you as he addressed you by name.

"You are by far the best thing that's ever happened to me. Your smile is what lets me get up in the morning and I would be honored if you would allow me to see your smile every day for the rest of our lifes. Please. Will you marry me?"

You watched him, real shock and surprise making its way to your face with every word he spoke. You had to manually remind yourself that this was just a scam and Not a real proposal. Without your permission your voice went shaky as you breathed out a "Yes, of course!" and went in for a kiss.

You sighed into the kiss, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Why was this having such a strong effect on you? You knew this was coming, you should have been prepared for this!

It didn’t matter because you didn’t have much time to dwell on it. When you parted the kiss you tuned back into the real world and heard the other customers applauding. The waiter had now reached the both of you and declared that for true love like yours your meal would be on the house. The customers applauded again as you both settled back into your seats.

You admired the dark blue ring Stan had slipped onto your finger and Stan quickly covered it with his own hand when the waiter brought out your plates, knowing full well that with one closer look every idiot would see that the ring is just plastic.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Two couples congratulated you both on their way out and you thanked them accordingly.

After you were done and back on the road Stan was first to speak up. "You were real convincing today. Almost made me think you thought it was a real proposal." He kept his eyes on the road but the smirk on his lips was still very clear.

You chuckled. "Yeah, right. To be fair, you weren't half bad yourself. 'Your smile is what lets me get up in the morning'? Now that's some true romantic stuff. Did you learn that from The Duchess Approves?" You tried to play it cool by teasing him. It seemed to do the trick.

"Hey! I can be romantic!" You chuckled fondly. "Yes, I know, love." Stan's expression softened at the nickname. He wanted to tell you just how much he loved you, too, but he just couldn't get the words out so instead, he just put his right arm over the backrest of your seat and pulled you towards him slightly as he continued to drive home.

You leaned into his touch and held up your left hand to look at the ring again. "Hm... How about I give this back to you, in case we want to do this again sometime?" You smiled as you pulled the ring off your finger and dropped it into the chest pocket of Stan's shirt.

3. It was late spring as you and Stan decided to go to a fair, one town over. You two walked along the many different attractions together, your arm lazily around his torso, his hand gently resting on your hip. Your pace was very slow, because at every other stall he squeezed your hip lightly to pull you closer and whispered in your ear how exactly they were scamming the customers. Every time he'd get a chuckle or a gentle swat to his chest from you.

As you two were passing by a Tin Can Alley, you spotted a gorgeous bear plushie that was just one fez short of looking like Stan. Just as you were about to ask him to play a round with him he pulled you closer again. "Ah, the Tin Can Alley. Did you know that they put a bit of double sided tape under the cans so they're harder to knock over?"

You swatted him lightly again and he chuckled. "No! Stan! Don't tell me that! I wanted to play a round with you. That bear looks so much like you, I wanted to win one." He looked a little puzzled at you, then at the bear, and back at you again. "I don't see it."

Even though he hated hearing you say it, he was plain adorable at times. A fond smile graced your lips even though you sighed in disappointment. "It's okay, let's go." You went to take a step forward but Stan stopped you. "Nah, let's play anyway." "But-" He cut you off and stepped towards the stall. "Come on! My treat." Stan flashed his teeth and winked at you. Was he planning something?

You were the only people at the stall so the man in charge of it noticed you two immediately. Stan squinted at him. "What do we need to do to get that bear?" He pointed at the plushie dangling above your heads.

The man smiled at him. "Good choice, sir. For that one you should only need three balls." He placed three balls on the counter between the men. "There is a catch though. You see these stacks?" He pointed at the three pyramids of stacked cans behind him. "You'll need to clear all three of them completely. Care to try? It's only three dollars."

Stan pulled three dollars out of his pocket and placed them on the counter, then gently nudged you closer to it. "Give it your best shot, doll." You smiled at Stan and took the first ball as the man behind the counter put the money away.

You positioned yourself in front of the first stack, took a deep breath and threw the ball. It hit the second of three rows, knocking four out of six cans to the ground. "Hoho! Good one! But not quite good enough for the bear I'm afraid." You frowned, disappointment filling your chest again.

"Yeah, not an option, pal. How about you just keep 'em coming, huh?" The man smiled at Stan again, although this time it looked a little more like a smirk. "Gladly, sir! Every extra ball is an extra dollar." As he said this he put one extra ball on the counter. Stan grumbled quietly and pulled another dollar out of his pocket while the man restacked the cans.

When the man was done and took the dollar, Stan looked at you, encouraging you to try again. This time you actually managed to clear the first stack. You threw your arms up in triumph and Stan huffed but the look in his eyes was of pure adoration. The second stack was less easy though, you only knocked off three cans this time. You needed an extra ball.

This went on until Stan had spent exactly eleven dollars. You had counted along. After that, when you hadn't cleared the cans again and looked at Stan expectantly, he put on his saddest face and pulled his pockets inside out, proving that he had 'no money left' and you couldn't continue.

Stan sighed sadly, shook his head and turned to you again. "I'm so sorry... I wanted to make this the best day ever but..." He looked wistfully up at the plushie and then back to you. "I suppose it doesn't matter that much." Stan rummaged through the inside of his jacket and pulled out the tiny box you'd come to recognize. You let your eyes widen in fake surprise.

He bent down on one knee, opened the box and presented it to you. You gasped as you saw the ring again. "Will you marry me?" You looked between Stan and the ring a couple times, pretending to be shocked at this scenario, before you nodded vigorously and stepped forward, hugging your boyfriend and repeating the word 'yes' a couple of times.

Some passersby 'aw'-ed and applauded as you pulled back slightly to press a loving kiss to Stan's lips. You'd never get tired of this. As Stan pushed you back just enough to slip the ring onto your finger, you could hear the man at the stall quietly sigh in annoyance. You went in for another kiss to Stan's lips, really selling the proposal.

When you broke the kiss again, you two were presented with the bear plushie, sitting for you on the counter. "If this is what it will take to make this the best day ever for two lovers, who am I to stand in your way?" The man said as he slid the bear over to you.

You gladly took it, hugging it tightly and throwing a couple 'Thank you!'-s at the man while Stan grabbed him by the shoulder and told him: "Thanks, man. I knew you were a true romantic at heart."

With that, you two left the fair. You had everything you needed. Back in the car, you slipped the ring off your finger and handed it back to Stan before nuzzling your face into your new favorite plushie, which you lovingly and creatively named Stan two or Stan the second.

You didn’t see it, but Stan's expression softened as you did that. He adored you so much. The way you were able to pull off these scams with him so effortlessly. The way your genuine joy for life made him actually want to spend money on silly things like this. You had changed his life for the better and didn’t even know it.

In that very moment Stan started planning exactly how and where the next time he'd propose to you would happen.

1. You and Stan sat in Greasy's Diner, sipping on some soda. Stan had asked you out to dinner and you had assumed he was planning to fake-propose to you again, but as he pulled up to the Diner you realized that that wasn't the plan. He couldn't pull the same thing here again, they thought you were already engaged!

Even so, Stan had put on one of his nicer outfits. A red shirt with the top few buttons unbuttoned to show off his gold-chain and a decent amount of chest hair. His tan jacket was thrown over the backrest as you sat down at a booth. You had also worn something nice, not too fancy, but nice enough for the kind of restaurant you thought he'd take you to.

Stan clearly enjoyed your outfit, it showed off all the right curves while not giving too much away... he couldn't keep his eyes off of you. It made you chuckle as Lazy Susan stood in front of your table and Stan seemingly hadn't even noticed her. "Hey! Earth to Stan!" You called out to him and he snapped out of it. "What would you like to eat?" You grinned at him as he ordered.

When Lazy Susan walked back to the kitchen you spoke up again with a chuckle. "I know I look good in this, but you're overdoing it a little." Stan just rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Haha... yeah. Sorry." You furrowed your brows at him. You had expected him to have some witty, suggestive comeback but instead he apologized? Something was off.

You watched him fidget with his hands in front of him, his eyes darting around the room and the table, anywhere but your eyes really. It was starting to worry you. "Stan? Are you alright?" Concern laced your voice and made Stan finally face you. His cheeks immediately went bright red.

"Th-There's nothing for you to worry about, doll, I promise." Your eyebrows stayed knitted together as you nodded slowly. He was clearly lying and also very nervous about it, but you knew better than to push him. He'd tell you eventually. He always does.

After a few minutes in silence, with Stan going back to fidgeting and not looking at you, Lazy Susan brought you both your meals. You thanked her and dug in. Meanwhile Stan quietly sighed in disappointment before starting to eat as well.

You were about halfway through your meal when Stan got up. You didn’t pay much attention to it and just assumed he had to use the restrooms. When you looked up and saw his plate though, you halted. The fork in your hand landed back on your plate as you wondered why Stan had barely eaten anything.

Someone cleared their throat beside you and when you turned to look it was Stan in front of you on one knee, holding a tiny red box. You quickly swallowed the food that was still in your mouth as Stan addressed you with your full legal name. He was blushing a deep red and you could feel your cheeks trying to match his.

"I know I've said this before but I want you to know that I truly mean it this time." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "These past few months with you have been the best of my life and I would spend all the money in the world to keep your smile in my life forever."

Your eyes welled up with tears as you realized what was happening. "I have become a better man and I blame you for that entirely." A wet chuckle escaped your lips. "I guess what I really want to say is..." Stan took another deep breath, then looked into your eyes. "I love you."

A few tears were flowing freely now as Stan opened the box in his hands to present you the most gorgeous silver ring you had ever seen. It held a little red gemstone between silver swirls that reflected the light from the Diner like a sunset over the ocean. "Will you marry me?"

You lept out of your seat into Stan's arms, knocking him backwards onto the floor. "Yes! Yes! A million times yes!" Stan could feel your tears staining his shirt but he couldn't care less. A massive weight lifted off his shoulders knowing that he could now call you his fiancé without having to lie about it.

With some difficulty he managed to sit you both back up so he could take your hand and place the real ring onto your finger. Admiring the sight he pressed a kiss to it, as if sealing it there.

You pressed your forehead to Stan's, holding the hand with the ring between you. "I love you, Stan." He sighed, finally content. "I love you, too."

After a few moments on the floor like that, Lazy Susan came up next to you. "Didn’t you propose two months ago?" Stan let out a gruff laugh, the one that always made you smile. "No, I didn’t. Just faked it to get a free meal." He beamed at her but Lazy Susan frowned.

She turned around and while Stan helped you up and into your seat again she came back with a broom in her hands. She smacked him with it from behind. Once, twice. Stan stammered out some halfhearted apologies as she kicked him out of the Diner.

You laughed all the way and when she came back to your table you apologized sincerely, asked her nicely to pack both of your meals up to go and told her that you'd pay for both these meals, and the ones you had two months ago.

She agreed happily, and when you stepped outside with your food, you found Stan next to his car, rubbing his ass. You laughed and told him that you'd finish your dinner at home, just the two of you.

That seemed to lift Stan's spirits again. He almost sprinted around the car to open the door for you and when you both got home you celebrated your real engagement appropriately.