#and if I did nothing wrong then there is no responsibility on me to resolve the way they feel

[kikyoupdates]

Tears of a Villainess ⭑˚🗡️⭑ 𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑒

yandere!ocs x reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?

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Did I really just say ‘sup? What the fuck is wrong with me? 

You don’t know how to react. The fact that the heroine is standing right in front of you has you undeniably tongue-tied. You were resolved to avoid her at all costs. How in the world did you end up running into her like this? While she’s crying, no less? 

Actually… why is she even crying? 

From what you recall, the villainess was meant to harass her tonight, but that couldn’t possibly have happened since, well, you’re the villainess now. And you’ve been busy dealing with Alistair’s sorry ass until just recently. Does that mean that because the villainess wasn’t here, someone else stepped in and decided to harass her instead? 

“P-Pardon me,” Lucy sniffles, wiping her eyes as quickly as she can manage. “What you said just now… I didn’t quite understand it. ‘Sup, was the word? Is it a local expression? Forgive me for not being well-versed with the customs here yet…” 

Bruh. You just unironically got the heroine to use modern-day slang. This has got to be some kind of hidden achievement. 

“It means what’s up?” you hastily explain. “As in, what’s going on? Just a shortened version of the phrase. And, uh… sorry. That probably wasn't the best thing to say. I didn’t realize that you were crying at first. Is everything alright?” 

You still can’t believe you’re actually talking to the heroine right now. Even though you’ve already met all of the love interests, she’s the main character of the game, and up until this point, she was mainly a stand-in for you as the player. You only ever saw the world through her eyes. Being able to actually hold a conversation with her like this is next level. 

Lucy’s eyes widen in understanding. “Oh. I see. Thank you for educating me in the ways of your kingdom. So, ‘sup is mainly meant to be used as a greeting? I’ll be sure to try and use it as much as I can from now on.”

“N-No, you really don’t need to do that,” you insist. “It’s kind of… informal. I think I’m the only one who goes around saying that. And I really shouldn’t. But more importantly, are you okay?”

Evidently, she isn’t okay, and you’re not really sure why you’re even asking. You should be getting the hell out of here while you still can. It’s always safer for heroines and villainesses to stay as far apart from each other as humanly possible. That’s just common knowledge. 

“I’m… alright,” Lucy reassures. She offers a sad, visibly strained smile. Even though she’s only just met you for the first time, she’d still rather hide her sadness than burden a stranger. She would rather suffer in silence than trouble anyone with her problems. 

Truly heroine material. 

You knit your brows together. Since the villainess couldn’t have been responsible for this, then who was it? Who could possibly be so needlessly cruel and—ah. 

Nevermind. You’ve already found the culprit. Or perhaps you should say culprits. 

You recognize those women. They’re the same ones who talked shit about you when you went out to the last party. Back then, you remember they were making snide remarks about how mean and shameless you are, but it turns out they’re quite the bullies themselves, as evidenced by the fact that they’re covering their faces with fans and quietly laughing in Lucy’s direction. 

Truthfully, it’s not all that surprising that this happened. Lucy hails from a fallen noble household, and her family was granted new noble titles upon moving to the kingdom, because the king is ever-so-benevolent, but many people look down on her and think she doesn’t belong in high society. Even though the king wants everyone to extend her and her family a warm welcome, in reality, the majority of the people here tonight are probably gossiping about her right this very second. 

Whether it’s in this fictional world or back in the real one, no matter the time or place, there’s one thing that never changes. 

People can be really fucking shitty. 

“Did those bitches say something mean to you?” you ask, nudging your chin in their direction. 

Lucy lets out a gasp, clearly taken aback by your language. “I-I beg your pardon?” 

“That group over there. Those pathetic, catty bitches. They’re the ones that made you cry, I’m assuming?” 

She recoils, and even though she doesn’t say anything to actually confirm your suspicions, the hesitant, pained look in her eyes is already more than enough. 

Well, then. Perhaps it’s time to put your villainess reputation to good use. 

“Wait right here,” you smile sweetly. Lucy tries to stammer out a protest, but you’re already stomping your way over to the group of snickering women, heels clicking loudly against the marble floors with every step you take. 

Finally, you stop in front of them, and the ringleader—the same one who was manning the group last time—gives you a pointed glare. 

“Ah, hello there,” she greets, with little to no enthusiasm. “I see you actually turned up tonight. I was convinced you were going to skip the event altogether. You’ve never been much of a stickler for the rules, after all.” 

“Let’s save the pleasantries for another time,” you brush off. “I take it you’re the ones who made Lucy cry? Even though she’s supposed to be one of the guests of honor tonight?” 

“Why, whatever do you mean?” 

All of them feign ignorance, of course, but you notice how the corners of their lips twitch in amusement when they glance Lucy’s way. 

“Don’t play with me, bitch,” you say—and of course, all of them react by gasping loudly, just like Lucy did. 

Bitch #1 narrows her eyes. “What did you just call me? Surely I must have heard wrong. Even you should know how to speak to people with the bare minimum of—” 

“I called you a bitch, because that’s what you are. Do you need to get your ears cleaned or something? Bitch?”

Cue another wave of loud, overly exaggerated gasps. It’s hilarious how offended they all are by that word. Back in your world, people use it constantly. There are so many other horrible words people have come up with that it’s become pretty commonplace, to be honest. 

But not here, evidently.

“You sicken me,” Bitch #1 grits out. “I don’t know where you get the nerve. How do your parents put up with having such a miserable excuse for a daughter? Although I suppose the fault also lies with them. It’s their gross negligence that’s to blame for all this.” 

“Don’t speak ill of my parents, bitch. They’re lovely people. They could afford to be a bit stricter, for sure, but that’s beside the point. Watch your mouth.” 

“Are you still calling me that?!” she fumes. 

You can tell there’s a tantrum inbound, which is why before she can say anything else, you grab the folding fan from her hand, and without even wasting a beat, snap it clean in half. 

This time, she outright wails. 

“H-How dare you! My fiancé gave me that fan as a gift! You monster! You demon!” 

“I’m sure he can buy you another one,” you dismiss. She’s acting like her puppy just died or something, damn. But either way, you’re not going to feel any remorse for someone who was just bullying an innocent woman moments ago—and enjoying it, too. 

The other bitches crowd around Bitch #1 while she mourns the loss of her stupid fan, and you step closer to them, voice dropping several octaves. 

“That ought to put things into perspective,” you glower. “It doesn’t feel good to have someone treat you like shit, does it? In that case, you shouldn’t be doing it to other people. And if ever I catch any of you acting like this again, next time, I’ll break your faces instead.” 

You hold up your fist as a warning, and even make a point of shaking it at them. It’s all for show, of course. You’re certainly no fighter, but hey, they don’t need to know that. 

It seems to work, anyway. They all look sufficiently horrified. Horrified enough that they’ll probably stay far away from Lucy from now on.

You wait until they’ve scurried off with their tails between their legs, then cross your arms and proudly hold your head up high. Maybe you’re actually more of a villainess than you first thought. 

More importantly…

You turn back towards Lucy, unsurprised to find her staring at you all wide-eyed and incredulous. Plenty of other people are staring, too, although they don’t look quite as taken aback as Lucy does. Probably because this is exactly the kind of thing they would expect from someone like you. 

Whatever. You still need to work on restoring your reputation, and you always knew that would be an uphill battle. Even though you were defending Lucy in this instance, it doesn’t look like anyone is willing to listen to your side of things, but you’re hopeful that with a bit of time and a lot of effort on your part, they’ll come around.

Maybe. 

“Hopefully they’ll leave you alone from now on,” you tell Lucy, smiling brightly. “A lot of people feel uneasy around me, so I’m guessing they’ll think twice about picking on you now that I’ve threatened them.” 

Lucy blinks several times in quick succession. “O-Oh. Thank you… for helping me. I’m very sorry for inconveniencing you. I’ve only just gotten here, and I’m already causing so much trouble…” 

A few more tears slip down her cheeks, and she now looks absolutely mortified at the thought that she’s put you in a bad position or something. 

Poor baby. 

You’re the villainess, and she’s the heroine. Those two just don’t mix. Part of you was tempted to walk away right when you ran into her, but you felt too guilty leaving her to cry on her own. The very reason you steered clear of her tonight was to avoid triggering the plot, of course, but also so that she could actually enjoy the evening. It’s a shame that there are so many shitty people out there. 

“Please don’t cry,” you say, and you reach into your pocket to pull out a handkerchief. You keep smiling as you hand it to her. “Here. I brought this with me tonight because I’m kind of a messy eater, but you can use it to dry your tears. I promise those women will leave you alone from now on. They’re all scared of me. It might sound easier said than done, but now that they’re gone, try to enjoy what’s left of the evening. Okay?” 

“Th-Thank you,” Lucy stammers. She reaches out to take the handkerchief, then starts blotting the corners of her eyes, still sniffling every so often. “I’m terribly sorry for making such a fuss. I’m sure this must have put a damper on your spirits.” 

“Not at all. I’m good at calling people out when they act shitty. They’ve been pissing me off for a while now anyway, so it was actually kind of cathartic.” You pause for a moment, then pat her on the shoulder, and offer yet another smile—a reassuring one, this time. “There’s seriously no need to apologize. And whatever they said to you, don’t take it to heart. People that go around making others feel bad are just pathetic, insecure losers. Deep down, they hate themselves. That’s why they try to take it out on someone else.”

“Do you… really think so?” 

“Trust me. If they felt good about themselves, they wouldn’t go out of their way to try and tear someone else down.” 

Lucy keeps wiping at the corners of her eyes, and occasionally patting her cheeks, which are a little gritty from the tears that have already dried down. A bit of color is starting to return to her face, though. She looks like she’s finally feeling a little better.

It’d be nice if you could stick around to make sure she enjoys the rest of her night, but you’ve already overstepped enough. From here on out, your lives must remain completely separate from one another. Otherwise, if you get too wrapped up in the storyline, you might not even have a life left to live.

Still, it was nice getting to meet her. You wish her nothing but happiness from here on out. 

“I need to leave now, but I really do hope you feel better. I don’t know if you’ve tried any yet, but the pastries they’re passing around are pretty good. Maybe eating something sweet will cheer you up a bit. And you can keep the handkerchief. Think of it as a little welcoming gift.” 

You’re already walking away, but you make a point to stop and wave back at her with a big grin.

“Bye-bye, Lucy! It was nice meeting you!” 

Lucy watches as you disappear into the crowd. It all happened so fast that she can’t even fully process it. You came in like a tornado, immediately ripping those women a new one for having harassed her unprompted. Other people clearly saw it happening, but nobody bothered to do anything about it. Nobody cared enough to help.

Nobody but you. 

You’re already gone, and it’s a shame, because she didn’t even get to ask what your name was. There’s not a doubt in her mind that you’re a good person. The way you spoke to those women was cutthroat and harsh, but you only did it because you knew they were in the wrong. You didn’t even hesitate to rise to her defense. If only… if only she’d gotten to know your name. 

Lucy unfolds the handkerchief a bit more to continue wiping her face, but as she does so, her eyes widen.

“...oh.”

You probably should have expected this, since just about every noble in the kingdom is here, but you keep running into people you know left and right. 

“[Name]!” Rowan beams. “I’m so fortunate to have crossed paths with you. It feels like it’s been ages since we last spoke. You’re even more beautiful than when I saw you the first time. I didn’t realize such a thing was possible.” 

The ass-kissing is still going strong, I see. 

“Hello, Rowan,” you sigh. 

“That’s a rather lackluster response. Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

“No, not particularly. Tonight’s been plenty eventful enough. A little peace and quiet certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

“I can be quiet,” Rowan insists, but somehow, you doubt that. 

“Should we play a game?” you challenge. “First one to talk loses?” 

“Pfft. I’m not a child, [Name]. Your tricks won’t work on me. If you’d like to shut me up, a better way would be to seal my lips with a kiss.”

He proceeds to tap said lips and lean towards you with a crooked grin, as if that’s supposed to make your panties drop or something. 

You forcefully push him back. “Ew. Chill out, man. I don’t even know you like that.” 

Rather than being offended by your dismissal, Rowan just laughs. “You really are incredibly amusing. I can tell I’ll never get bored of spending time with you.”

He continues yapping, of course, but you’re not really paying attention—on account of the fact that you’ve just spotted Flynn from a little distance away. 

“Shit!” you curse. You duck, and thankfully, it doesn’t look like he saw you. Plenty of people are looking at you funny, since you’re crouched down well below them, but fuck if you care. The last thing you want is for that guy to be sticking to your side all night and sussing you out the way he always does. 

Rowan appears next to you with a smile, also crouching down. “What’s going on?” he muses. “Who are we hiding from?” 

You scowl irritably, refusing to dignify him with a response. Instead, you carefully creep away until you’re sure Flynn won’t be able to spot you. Or at least, you hope he won’t. 

“Do you know that man?” Rowan asks, tilting his head inquisitively. “The blond gentleman with the strange accents in his hair. I notice you keep looking at him. You seem rather concerned.” 

“He’s just someone I’d rather not deal with right now,” you wave off. 

“Not another suitor, I hope. Since you agreed to let me court you for a while. You already have my heart, [Name]. Please don’t toy with it.” 

Rowan makes a big show of sniffling and pretending to wipe away some invisible tears. He's even fake-whining a bit, despite the fact that you definitely never asked for his whimper audios.

“Just an old friend of mine,” you eye-roll. “But things are complicated at the moment, so it’s easier if I avoid him for a bit. I’ve got a lot going on.”

“I see. Well, it doesn’t surprise me that so many men are interested in you. You really are the prized jewel of the kingdom. My only regret is that I didn’t meet you sooner.”

“What part of he’s just a friend did you not understand?” 

Rowan chuckles. “My sweet, beautiful [Name]. You’re an intelligent woman, but it appears as though you have quite the innocent, naive side to you as well. It’s exceptionally endearing, but as your suitor, I can’t help but worry that you’ll fall prey to other cunning men’s schemes. Just because a man acts like he’s your friend doesn’t mean he’s only interested in being your friend. Please keep that in mind.”

“Yes, thank you for your invaluable advice,” you exhale loudly. “I can handle myself, so don’t worry. And Flynn really is only my friend. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s interested in someone else.” 

He will be soon enough, anyway. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to trust your judgment,” Rowan chuckles, yet another sly smile resting upon his lips. “In any case, we’re playing hide and seek, are we? This should be fun.”

This guy is seriously a real piece of work. Time and time again, you can’t help but marvel at how utterly shameless he is. Although perhaps the same can be said about you, but whatever. You at least have an excuse. Namely, not dying.

You face Rowan with a frown. “Hey. I’d like you to be completely honest. Are you only interested in marrying me because I rejected Alistair?”

“What a strange accusation,” he replies, hardly even batting an eye. “What benefit is there in courting the woman that was once romantically involved with my cousin? I’m already well aware of how people will perceive my actions, but I’m choosing to ignore all of that simply because I’m so taken with you.” 

“I’m not saying there’s necessarily a benefit. I just got a weird feeling when you proposed to me right after you’d heard I broke off my engagement with Alistair.” 

“Well, yes, because I was excited. I felt guilty for reacting the way I did, but I felt like I’d finally been given the chance to approach you myself. Didn’t I already explain this before?” 

“You did, but… I don’t know.”

Speaking to Alistair earlier must have brought your doubts back to the surface. It seems like they despise each other even more than what was implied in the game, in which case, perhaps Rowan’s interest in you really is just part of some petty quarrel. You don’t even have feelings for this guy or anything, so it’s not like you care whether he genuinely likes you or not, but still. 

You don’t very much like the idea of being used as a pawn.

“I will do whatever it takes to convince you that my feelings for you are genuine,” Rowan promises. He grabs your hand in his and gently squeezes it, then raises it to his lips and gives your skin a featherlight kiss. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that you are the woman I want to be with. Every interaction we have makes me that much more certain.”

But I’ve just been rejecting you this whole time. Do you have a humiliation kink or something?

You slowly pull your hand back. “Well, I did agree to give you a chance. I’ll date you for a little while and see how it goes. But you’d better be telling the truth. I don’t appreciate being lied to. And I can be pretty scary when I’m mad.”

“Forgive me, but with a face as radiant as yours, I don’t think I’d ever be scared of it,” he grins, lovingly pinching your cheek.

You let out another sigh. He’s remarkably persistent, you have to give him credit where it’s due. And technically he’s not directly involved in the plot of the story, so it’s not like spending time with him will raise any death flags or anything. You just hope he doesn’t turn out to be a total asshole. 

“Ah—crap!” you exclaim, and you grab Rowan’s hand in a hurry. “Flynn’s coming over here! We need to run, quick!” 

You pull him along, weaving in and out of the crowd, and the whole while, Rowan can’t seem to stop smiling. 

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[prncssguya]

on hwang in-ho/front man, seong gi-hun and their dynamic.

first, idk why people are getting so upset at other people calling gi-hun dumb, we were told that in the first season. lol being bright is not his strongest trait but he has a good heart and we love that about him. however, he is still an idealistic gullible idiot with a gambling problem. except this time his gambling addiction is backed by a sense of justice and righteousness and he no longer gambles with money, he’s gambling with people’s lives. front man asked a good question at the end of the season, “did you have fun playing the hero?” can we even call gi-hun the hero of the story anymore? he gambled with people’s lives and front man showed him the consequences of his moral heroics.

front man only agreed to help gi-hun with his revolution when he mentioned about "small sacrifices for the greater good". i think he reveled in the fact that the “good guy” was willing to allow a few innocent people to die for the greater good to stop the games, which is exactly what the entire VIP theory is to rid the world of 'trash' to improve the world. notice how gi-hun's moral code and belief also changed, from being "nobody should die" into "yeah small sacrifice is okay as long it's for the greater good" at this point, he just proved that front man's belief is actually valid. AND he gets more of his own people killed in the pointless battle with the soldiers that they had no chance of winning. now he gets to feel responsible for all those deaths and the death of his friend and for whatever additional torture they cook up in the next games (as punishment for the escape attempt).

now on hwang in-ho, i believe he was once a good man and the story he told gi-hun was the truth. but in the end he lost a kidney, lost a wife, a baby, lost his money, got fucked over by the wrong people and got into serious debt and had to play this game to help his wife and probably it was too late to save her. he might have played the games like gi-hun but saw how ruthless and greedy people are and resolved that they don't deserve help

i don’t think in-ho wants/will kill gi-hun, but he wants him to understand things from his perspective and show him that his compassion for the people in the games is foolish. you can tell the frontmen (the old man and in-ho) are extremely fond of gi hun. not only did he protect their original front man when nobody else did, he then won the games and thus their respect as he is now as rich as them. he's no longer "trash", he’s an elite like them. i think they both actually kept tabs on him after he won (i wonder if they do that for all winners? inserting them with gps chips?) because they knew he had not used his reward money and in-ho wanted gi-hun to get on the plane and be happy with his daughter

there’s one interesting aspect of the games that makes front man such a complex character. the fact that they’re operating a organ transplant trafficking network. in a way, he’s creating some good to come from a really fucked up situation. but is it really for the good of others who desperately need it, people like his wife, like his brother? or is it just a money making scheme?

either way, i don’t think there is going to be a redemption arc for in-ho, he’s too far gone. we may get to see more of his human side if he manages to see jun-ho again. the only time we’ve seen genuine emotions from him was when he shot his brother like he seemed distraught

the real cliffhanger for me, is will gi-hun stay true to his belief that people can be good, or will he be forever changed into a villain and become the next front man…? after the events of this season i don’t see how his will doesn’t shatter. he’s witnessed how humanity consistently chose money over survival, he’s lost two close friends, his mother, abandoned his daughter. he has gained nothing from wanting to stop the games and this clearly feels like an origin story for the next front man. it’s clear the front man has won this round and i think squid game will either die with 001 or continue with gi-hun as game master

another thing i find funny that i don’t see many mention is how gi-hun is like the luckiest guy in the fucking world. but i don’t think him being alive this long is plot armor, it makes sense. the games exist for the entertainment of rich sadists who have so much money they don't know what to do with it (remember what old 001 said in s1 about life being no fun for both people with no money and people with too much money). and i’d imagine killing hundreds of poor debt-ridden fools year after year gets boring. especially when said fools are desperate enough to gamble with their lives because they think they can beat the system by playing better than everyone else and surviving and getting the money.

gihun is different because he got the money, got out, and still came back. not because he's unfeeling or because he wants more money, but because he's still convinced he can beat the system.

if you're a rich bored gazillionaire, would you rather watch some randos die or would you rather watch this exceptional idiot fail again and again until he learns that his ideals are meaningless and people are inherently greedy and equality is a myth and people at the bottom of the barrel don't get to question the system?

if you're an asshole gazillionaire, you don't want someone to challenge you and just get away with it. you want to hand them 45.6 billion won and make them go away quietly, traumatized, after breaking them psychologically by making them do horrible things until they understand they're just powerless "horses". if they insist on challenging you and your system and your beliefs (money = boundless power), you teach them a lesson and show them their place in the most manipulative and cruel way possible. if gihun dies right away, that's boring. so he can't die, he needs to suffer. he needs to concede defeat.

also, i find it funny how people are comparing hwang inho and gihun dynamic to hannibal and will graham. makes sense, their whole cat and mouse game, front man hiding his true nature from gi-hun the same way hannibal does, trying to corrupt the righteous protagonist, sowing chaos, testing him and observing his behavior like a lab rat, the crazy tension and staring contests, the gaslighting and manipulation. and with the fact that they think lee byung-hun looks like mads mikkelsen. i never put the two of them together but now i can’t unsee it lol

[st4rpiece]

needing space after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: they earn your forgiveness CW: groveling, making up, fluff, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

────────────────────₊˚.༄

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy wasn’t himself. It was the first thing everyone noticed after you left the ship. His laughter, usually loud and contagious, was quieter, forced. Mealtimes felt emptier, and the energy on the Sunny had shifted. He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but even the crew could see the shadow of regret lingering in his eyes.  

But now, here he was, standing in front of you in the quiet port town where you’d taken refuge after leaving the crew. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a desperate determination.  

“I’m sorry,” he said for what must have been the tenth time. His voice was raw, almost breaking. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have told you to leave. I was stupid.”  

You stood with your arms crossed, your expression guarded. Seeing Luffy like this—so uncharacteristically vulnerable—caught you off guard, but the sting of his words still lingered, fresh and sharp.  

“Luffy, you can’t just say whatever you want when you’re mad and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “You told me to leave. So I did.”  

“I didn’t mean it,” he repeated, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “I was mad and didn’t think. I... I need you on the ship. Not just because I want you there, but because you’re part of the crew. You’re important to us all and i shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”  

You searched his face, his big, earnest eyes pleading with you. You could see the regret there, the weight of his mistake hanging heavy on his shoulders. For a moment, your resolve wavered, but you quickly shook your head.  

“I can’t just come back because you say you’re sorry, Luffy. What happens the next time we fight? Are you going to tell me to leave again?”  

“No!” he blurted out, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I swear. I’ll never say anything like that again.”  

You frowned, unsure what to make of his declaration. “Luffy, words aren’t enough.”  

He nodded, his straw hat shadowing his eyes for a moment before he looked up at you with renewed determination. “Then I’ll show you. Whatever it takes.”  

True to his word, Luffy didn’t give up. He didn’t force you to return to the ship, but he didn’t leave the island either. Every day, he showed up—whether it was to bring you a freshly caught fish for dinner, fix something around the small inn you were staying at, or simply sit outside and wait in silence. He didn’t push, didn’t demand, but his presence was constant.  

When the ship needed supplies, he was the first to volunteer, taking on tasks he’d usually leave to someone else. The crew later told you how he’d started taking more responsibility, trying to step up as a better leader.  

Even when you didn’t speak to him, he never faltered. Every action, every small gesture, was his way of showing you how much he regretted his words.  

One evening, you found Luffy sitting on the dock, staring out at the ocean with his straw hat resting in his lap. He looked smaller somehow, as though the weight of his regret had worn him down.  

When he noticed you approaching, he stood up immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious hope.  

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, crossing your arms.  

“Because I was wrong,” he said without hesitation. “Because I hurt you, and I have to make it right. Even if you never come back, I’ll keep trying. I don’t care how long it takes.”  

His sincerity stopped you in your tracks. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t brushing over your feelings like they didn’t matter. He had made changes—small ones, but noticeable—and for the first time, you truly believed he understood the gravity of what he’d done.  

You sighed, letting the silence linger before speaking. “Luffy... I’ll come back.”  

His eyes lit up with hope, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.  

“But,” you continued, holding up a finger, “this only works if things stay different. I’m not going back just to deal with the same problems again. I need to know you’re taking this seriously.”  

“I swear!” he said immediately, his voice brimming with determination. “I swear that things will be different. A good different. No more reckless fights for selfish reasons or saying things I don’t mean, I promise.”  

You studied him for a long moment, the sincerity and determination in his eyes unmistakable. Finally, you allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. “Alright, Lu.”  

Relief washed over his face as he heard the familiar nickname, and for the first time in weeks, you saw his grin return, bright and full of life.  

"I missed you so much, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and certainty, as he wrapped his arms around you.

The comforting warmth of his embrace, felt like home—safe, secure, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro wasn’t one to grovel. Stubborn and prideful as he was, apologies didn’t come easy for him. But as he sat alone on the Sunny’s deck, replaying his words from the fight, regret gnawed at him like a dull blade.  

The memory of your face—shocked, hurt, and then resigned—kept flashing in his mind. He hadn’t just lashed out; he’d cut deep. You were trying to help, and he’d thrown it back at you, calling you controlling and annoying when you didn’t deserve it.  

He groaned, pressing his palms against his face. He hated how small he felt for failing to show up to the dates you’d so carefully planned, how your suggestion—simple and kind—had poked at an insecurity he didn’t want to face. And now, because of his pride, he’d pushed you away.  

For days, you’d been distant, giving him space, but that only made the guilt worse. He needed to fix this.  

You were sitting on a quiet hillside overlooking the ocean when Zoro found you. The breeze tugged at your clothes, and you looked peaceful—too peaceful, considering how much turmoil you’d left him in.  

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice unusually hesitant.  

You glanced at him, surprised to see the normally stoic swordsman looking... sheepish. He stood awkwardly a few feet away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.  

“What is it, Zoro?” you asked, your tone calm but distant.  

He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides before he took a step closer. “I wanted to apologize.”  

That caught your attention. Your brows lifted in mild surprise, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.  

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, his voice low and gruff, but steady. “You weren’t being controlling or annoying. You were just... trying to help.” He exhaled heavily as if forcing the words out of himself. “And I was an idiot.”  

You blinked, his sincerity throwing you off guard. “Zoro—”  

“Let me finish, please,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was something raw in his gaze—an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... I hate that I’m always late. I hate knowing you’re waiting for me while I’m stuck wandering around like an idiot who can’t follow a simple route. It’s embarrassing.”  

Your expression softened, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak.  

“When you suggested we go together, I know it wasn’t because you thought I was useless,” he continued, his voice tightening. “But that’s how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough to get it right on my own. And instead of dealing with that, I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”  

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “But I don’t think you’re controlling or annoying. You’re the most patient and understanding person for putting up with me. So you deserve better and I want to be that.”  

The sincerity in his voice was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them.  

“I know I can’t just say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal,” he added, glancing away briefly before meeting your gaze again. “So, please baby just… give me a chance to make it right.”  

Your lips parted in surprise. Zoro wasn’t the type to take the initiative when it came to things like this, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.  

After a long pause, you let out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One last chance.”  

He nodded, relief flashing across his face, but there was also a quiet resolve in his expression. This wasn’t just a promise—it was a vow.  

The next time you guys went on a date, Zoro was ready. He showed up early, finally getting the chance to wait on you. He led you to a quiet clearing overlooking the sea, a picnic already set up with food he’d personally asked Sanji to help him prepare.  

The effort was clear in every little detail, from the way he chose the spot (easily accessible, no chance to get lost) to the careful decorations and crafts you mentioned liking/wanting to try. Showing that despite his stoic nature, he was listening to you during previous dates. Even now as you spoke, he would chime in at just the right moments.  

It wasn’t perfect—he stumbled over a few of his words and complained when a seagull tried to swipe the food—but it was Zoro, trying in his own way. And that meant everything.  

By the time the date ended, you leaned back on the blanket, gazing up at the stars, feeling closer to him than ever before. When he reached for your hand, you let him, squeezing it gently.  

Zoro glanced down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I know you agreed to give me another chance, but I need to know if you’re still interested in giving me that chance.”

Your heart softened at the rare vulnerability in his voice. You turned to meet his eyes, and they were steady, full of quiet determination.  

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned into him as the waves crashed gently in the distance. For a man of few words, Zoro was surprisingly good at them.

“Well,” you began, tilting your head with a teasing glint in your eye, “that depends. Are you going to keep being so dramatic about it?” You bit back a laugh as you watched the tips of his ears turn red, his expression shifting into a familiar scowl.

“Tch, not being dramatic,” he grumbled, looking away, but the redness in his ears betrayed him.

You chuckled softly and squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I was being serious about giving you that second chance,” you said warmly. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.

“But,” you continued, your tone more firm, “next time something like this happens, promise that you’ll communicate it properly. Okay? No more bottling things up.”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding once. “You have my word.” His voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of his promise.

“Good.” You smiled, squeezing his hand again as a soft breeze brushed past, carrying with it the sound of the waves.

God Usopp

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet, and the silence weighed heavy between you and Usopp. Since your argument, things haven’t been the same. You still spoke, but the words felt hollow, and the laughter you once shared now seemed distant and forced. He noticed it all—the way your smile never quite reached your eyes, the strain in your voice when you tried to act like nothing was wrong.  

And it tore him apart.  

Usopp sat on the deck after dinner, absentmindedly fiddling with a half-finished invention. His fingers moved on instinct, but his thoughts were stuck on your last conversation. He hated himself for the way he’d lashed out, for the way he’d let his insecurities push you away.  

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sea in shades of orange and pink, he made up his mind. He couldn’t let this fester any longer.  

When you stepped onto the deck for some air, Usopp hesitated, watching you from a distance. Finally, he stood, his hands clenching at his sides as he approached you.  

“Hey,” he called softly.  

You turned, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey.” Your voice was casual, but your guarded expression told him you were bracing for something.  

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.  

You nodded, following him to a quieter spot on the ship where the others couldn’t overhear. The soft sound of the waves filled the silence as Usopp struggled to find the right words.  

“I’ve been... thinking,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “About what I said. About the fight.” He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, giving him the space to explain.

“I know you don’t see me as weak,” he continued, his voice growing tight. “But hearing you scream for him... it made me feel useless.” He exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around the railing. “And I hate feeling like that. I know I’m not like Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji. I’m not the guy who can punch through walls or take down ten enemies at once, but... I at least want to be someone you can count on. Someone you can feel protected with.”

He paused, his words faltering slightly. “But instead of talking to you about it, I projected my insecurities onto you, and made it seem like you were wrong for asking our friends for help. For that, I’m sorry.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and guilt pooled in your chest. “Baby...” you started, your voice soft. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel that way.” You stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. “But you are someone I can count on. Someone who’s saved my ass more times than I can count. Your strength may not look like theirs, but it’s just as important.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes wide, searching for any trace of doubt. “You... you really mean that?”

“Heck yeah, I do,” you said without hesitation. “I trust you, Usopp. I always have.”

A small, hesitant smile tugged at his lips, and he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. “Thanks... I needed to hear that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

After a moment, he straightened and rubbed the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “Actually, uh, there’s something I’ve been working on. For you. I wanted to make something that could help you in a fight.”  

Your brows lifted in surprise. “Really? What is it?”  

Grinning now, Usopp reached into his bag and pulled out a small, compact gadget. “It’s not finished yet, but it’s kind of like a smoke bomb, but better. It creates a flash of light to blind enemies and a smoke screen to cover your escape. I thought... you know, it might come in handy.”  

You took the gadget from him, turning it over in your hands. “Usopp, this is amazing.”  

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching his cheek, his grin turning bashful. “I wanted to make sure you had another thing to keep you safe. In case no one else is around.”  

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Usopp. I mean it.”  

He relaxed then, the tension between you finally melting away. “I’ll finish it soon,” he promised, his confidence returning. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with even more stuff for you with full bragging rights.”  

"Thanks, now I can let everyone know just how my amazing boyfriend is," you laughed—genuinely this time—and Usopp’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he still had work to do, but for now, the weight of your fight had lifted, and the bond between you felt stronger than ever.  

Vinesmoke Sanji

Sanji stood alone on the deck, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his slumped figure. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, though he hadn’t taken a drag in minutes. His mind replayed every moment of your relationship—the laughter, the stolen glances, the warmth of your touch. And then, inevitably, it would circle back to the breakup.  

He’d failed you. The person who mattered more to him than anyone else in the world. His actions—so thoughtless, so wrapped in habit—had made you feel second to strangers. The realization haunted him, clawing at his chest.  

Sanji thought of groveling, of falling to his knees and begging you to take him back, but he knew you too well. That would only push you further away. You were someone who needed actions, not words, and he knew his words had already failed you. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. You were his person, his muse, his everything. How could he possibly accept a life without you in it?  

So he did the only thing he could. He began to show you through his actions.  

The change was immediate. The next time the ship docked at an island, Sanji didn’t so much as glance at the women who usually flocked to him. When they batted their lashes and called out for his attention, he brushed them off politely and kept his focus on his task. His compliments, once scattered freely to strangers, were now reserved only for you. Even when you ignored him, his words never wavered—soft, sincere, and meant only for you.  

In battle, Sanji was more relentless than ever. But his priority was always your safety, stepping in before danger could reach you, even if it meant taking a hit himself. When the crew sat down for meals, he made sure your favorite dishes were prepared just the way you liked them, his eyes flicking to your face to see if you’d noticed.  

And when he thought you weren’t looking, he’d linger nearby, silently watching you. There was a sadness in his gaze as he admired the person he’d once had the privilege of holding close. You saw him sometimes, hovering at a distance, and though you tried to ignore it, part of you couldn’t deny the pang in your chest. You still had feelings for him—of course you did. But you couldn’t settle for someone who had once made you doubt your place in their life.  

Weeks passed, and Sanji’s quiet devotion didn’t falter. Even now as he stood near the railing, waiting for you, his hands slightly trembling. He had spent all day preparing for this moment, and now the weight of his plan felt heavier than ever.  

When you finally stepped out onto the deck, he straightened immediately, smoothing his suit jacket with nervous fingers. "Hey," he called softly, his voice careful, like he was afraid of scaring you off.  

"Hey," you replied, your tone hesitant but curious. He’d been walking on eggshells around you for weeks, and now this—an invitation for "something special" without much detail. Against your better judgment, you’d said yes, curiosity getting the better of you.  

He smiled faintly, stepping toward you. "I, uh, thought we could spend the evening together. Just... talk."  

You raised a brow. "Talk?"  

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him. "Come on. I’ve got something to show you."  

Despite the uncertainty in your chest, you followed him across the deck, and your eyes widened when he led you to a corner of the ship bathed in soft, golden light from lanterns he had strung up. A blanket was spread out neatly on the deck, adorned with a small basket, plates of your favorite snacks, and a bottle of your favorite drink.  

"Sanji..." you murmured, taken aback.  

"I know it’s not much," he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wanted to do something for you. Something simple. Something that doesn’t involve me screwing it up."  

You blinked, your hesitation softening slightly at his earnestness. "You didn’t have to go through all this trouble."  

"I did," he countered, his voice firm but warm. "I needed to."  

He gestured for you to sit, and after a moment’s pause, you did, settling down on the blanket. Sanji sat across from you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.  

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the ship filling the space between you. Finally, Sanji took a deep breath and looked at you, his expression more serious than you’d seen in a long time.  

"My love," he began, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since... since we broke up. And I just... I need you to know how sorry I am."  

You looked away, unsure how to respond, but he continued.  

"I wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved," he admitted, his voice low. "I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, and that’s unforgivable. You should’ve never felt like anything less than the most important person in my life. That’s on me."  

His gaze was unwavering as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel the sincerity in his words.  

"I still have feelings for you," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I never stopped. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, or even to trust me again right away. But I need you to know that I’ve changed. I’m changing. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you."  

You stared at him, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Sanji was always smooth with his words, but this was different. There was no charm, no performative flair—just raw honesty.  

"Sanji..." you started, your voice faltering. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the blanket. "I... I still have feelings for you too. But..."  

"But you don’t trust me," he finished for you, his tone understanding rather than hurt.  

You nodded. "It’s not that I don’t want to. I just... I’m scared of getting hurt again."  

He reached across the blanket, his hand stopping just short of yours. "I understand," he said softly. "And I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not ready for. If we have to take things slow, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll show you, not just with words but with actions, that you’re the only one in my heart."  

His hand lingered near yours, and after a moment, you tentatively placed your hand over his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you looked up to meet his gaze.  

"Okay," you said quietly. "We can try. But slow, Sanji. No rushing, no grand gestures to win me over. Just... be honest with me."  

A smile broke across his face, softer and more genuine than any you’d seen in weeks. "Slow it is," he promised.  

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you eased. You still had a long way to go, but as you sat there, sharing a quiet meal under the lantern light, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.  

───────────────────₊˚.༄

One Piece Masterlist

hey…I was supposed to post this yesterday but I ended up working a double 😭.

[this is lightly edited]

anyways I saw a couple people asking about a tag list ngl i don’t know shit about that 😭😭 but hopefully this finds you !!

and for the op women/queer smau I will be posting that soon as well but I got a really cute idea from anon yesterday and I want to start on that first.

[kaiyunsim]

supercute —

pairing : bf!jake x gn!reader

summary : april 1st, the perfect day to plan a prank, and on who else but your boyfriend who gets pouty and sulky when not given attention?

warnings : FLUFF. established relationship, jake being sulky, minor guilt

a/n : yk i had to do my mans good when april fools comes by. enjoy the short oneshot ! (i miss writing short oneshots)

queueing : supercute - nct wish, your eyes only - enhypen, one and only - boynextdoor,

— wc : 1.2k — not proof read —

you start the morning with a mission: give your boyfriend, jake, the silent treatment for as long as possible.

it's april fools’ day, and you figured it’d be funny to see how he reacts. maybe he’ll get annoyed. maybe he’ll get frustrated. maybe he’ll start pleading with you dramatically. either way, you’re determined to hold out for as long as possible.

except… you forget one crucial detail.

jake sim is unbelievably clingy.

it starts the second you wake up. normally, you’d greet him with a sleepy mumble and a nuzzle into his chest, but today, you roll over and say nothing.

jake blinks at you, confused but still smiling as he shifts closer, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“morning, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep. he presses a lazy kiss to your cheek, waiting for your usual response. when it doesn’t come, he leans back slightly to look at you.

“babe?” he says again, poking your side gently.

you blink at him but remain silent, pressing your lips together to keep from laughing.

jake tilts his head. “did you not sleep well?”

you shake your head.

he frowns. “you had a nightmare?”

you shake your head again.

his brows furrow, concern flashing across his face. “are you mad at me?”

you don’t respond.

now jake is wide awake. he sits up, pulling you with him, cradling your face between his hands. “baby, what’s wrong?”

you give him the most deadpan stare you can manage.

his lips part slightly, and his eyes soften. “did i do something?”

you fight the urge to coo at how cute he looks, his messy bedhead, his pouty lips, the way his thumb strokes your cheek so gently.

instead, you just blink at him and stand up, heading to the bathroom.

jake follows. of course he does.

“wait, babe—" he tries, but you close the door before he can step inside.

you take a deep breath, covering your mouth to suppress your laughter. if he’s already acting this desperate, this prank might not last very long

jake spends the entire time you’re in the bathroom standing outside the door, knocking every few seconds.

“baby, are you okay?” knock.

“do you want me to make breakfast?” knock, knock.

“are you mad at me?” knock, knock, knock.

you don’t answer.

when you finally open the door, he’s standing there, arms crossed, lips jutted out in a deep pout. his hair is still a mess from sleep, and he looks like a kicked puppy, eyes big and round.

“why aren’t you talking to me?” he asks, voice slightly whiny.

you just step around him and head for the kitchen.

jake gasps. “wait, wait—” he rushes after you, grabbing onto the hem of your hoodie like a lost child. “baby, talk to me.”

you shake him off and continue on, though your resolve is already crumbling.

he makes a distressed sound, like you’ve just personally ripped out his heart. “oh my god,” he breathes, stumbling after you.

as you start making toast, he stands right behind you, practically pressing himself against your back. his arms snake around your waist, and he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“i’m sorry for whatever i did,” he mumbles. “i don’t know what it is, but i’ll fix it.”

you glance at him out of the corner of your eye but say nothing.

jake dramatically lets his head fall against you. “babe,” he whines.

you focus on buttering your toast.

“this is so cruel,” he mutters. “you know how much i love your voice.”

he starts swaying you side to side, squeezing you tighter. “just say one thing. anything. insult me. call me ugly. i don’t care, just talk to me.”

you almost break right then and there.

almost.

instead, you finish your toast, grab a plate, and move to the couch. jake follows immediately, plopping down beside you with an exaggerated sigh. he dramatically flops against your side, making himself comfortable with half his weight on you.

you do your best to ignore him as you eat.

he buries his face into your shoulder. “you’re so mean,” he mumbles.

you don’t react.

he shifts, lying down fully across your lap, looking up at you with big, pleading eyes. “please?”

you bite your lip to keep from smiling.

jake lets out another loud sigh. “fine. i’ll just text you, then.”

you watch as he pulls out his phone and starts typing. a second later, your phone buzzes on the table.

jake: are you okay? :(

another buzz.

jake: do u hate me

another.

jake: i miss u even though ur right here

he peeks up at you, eyes hopeful. you don’t respond.

his lips wobble.

another text.

jake: babe pls just say something ur killing me here

when you don’t react, he groans loudly, shoving his face into your stomach.

“this is literally the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” he mumbles against you.

you finally crack a little smile but quickly hide it before he can see.

he sighs again, dramatically rolling onto his side. he looks so genuinely sad now, lips still in a pout, his brows furrowed like he’s deep in thought.

you stare at him for a long moment, fingers twitching with the need to reach out and soothe him.

and then he mumbles, “maybe you finally realized i’m too annoying to love.”

your heart absolutely shatters.

that’s it. prank over.

you put your plate aside and immediately grab his face, forcing him to look at you. “jake, oh my god,” you blurt out, breaking your silence.

his eyes widen, but instead of the smug grin you expect, his lips press together tightly. he blinks once, twice. then a single tear rolls down his cheek.

your stomach drops.

“jake—”

he sniffles dramatically. “you really weren’t gonna talk to me all day?” his voice wobbles slightly, but the way his lips twitch gives him away.

“wait,” you narrow your eyes, scanning his face. “are you actually crying or are you faking it?”

another tear falls, and jake doesn’t even bother wiping it away. instead, he just lets out the most heart-wrenching sigh, draping himself across your lap again. “you tell me,” he murmurs.

guilt crashes over you in waves.

“oh my god, baby,” you whisper, frantically cupping his face. “i’m so sorry, i was just—”

his lips suddenly twitch into a tiny, barely-there smile.

your hands freeze.

his teary eyes peek up at you, and then, just like that, the grin breaks through.

realization smacks you in the face.

“jake,” you breathe.

he sniffles again, blinking innocently. “yes, my love?”

“you’re such a little—” you push his shoulder, and he bursts into laughter, rolling onto his back as you glare down at him.

“i knew you’d break first,” he teases between giggles, wiping at his damp cheeks. “but hey, i really did get emotional for a second.”

“i can't stand you.”

“no, you can't,” he sings, sitting up and tugging you onto his lap. “you love me, which is why you gave in.”

you huff, crossing your arms, but the warmth in his eyes softens you.

he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “admit it,” he whispers. “you’d never last a whole day ignoring me.”

you want to argue, but… he’s right. you roll your eyes and let out a sigh. “yeah, yeah.”

“so,” he tilts his head, eyes twinkling, “can i have a proper ‘i love you’ now?”

you pretend to hesitate, but when he gives you that soft, lovestruck look, you cave.

“i love you, jake.”

his grin stretches wide, dimples appearing. “love you more, even if you’re mean to me.”

you flick his forehead which is met with a small whine but he just laughs, pulling you closer.

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel pt.2

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst, some fluff (maybe, hopefully!) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide. A/N: I hope this doesn't feel too rushed! I'm still trying to figure out a good pacing of how I should break these up without them being too long or too short. Posted too quickly or not quick enough, so any advice would be very welcomed and appreciated! I hope I did Sylus justice with his responses, I just took what I would want to hear essentially. But, Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! album is so Sylus coded. I got so many ideas for other fics, so stay tuned! And again, please please please take sweet care of yourselves! 💗

Prev

The chime echoes through the apartment, and for a moment there’s nothing. No footsteps, no shuffle of movement inside. Sylus exhales, fingers softly tapping on the doorframe while he waits. He already knows. He had known the moment communication stopped, when his calls went to voicemail, when even the short, tired texts faded into silence. At first, he assumed you were just busy, needing space. But the longer he waited, the clearer it became—if it were up to you, you wouldn’t come back at all. He began doing his own investigation, looking up the traits you portrayed usually compared to these moments of time and he found his answer. So, he started paying attention. Comparing your usual habits to these stretches of absence. Watching for the patterns. Having Mephisto follow you to your therapist’s office had only confirmed what he already suspected.

As advised, he gave you time—three days, exactly. Then the calls began, gentle and steady, each one a quiet pull back to him. Each time, he waited for you to let him in, to say something. But instead, he got excuses. Busy with work. Out with friends. His personal favorite: just sleeping. It’s almost amusing, how you seem to forget he has your location. He always knows where you are. 

Sylus toys with the key in his hand, should he, or shouldn’t he? Would this cross a line? You had given this to him for an emergency, wouldn’t this be considered one? It has been a full week without hearing from you. He never lets it go this long but work held him up so he couldn’t do his usual routine. He continued to ponder the ethics of his decision until he heard it, movement. A sign of life behind the door that still won’t open up for him. That’s it, he decides and inserts the key. 

As the door swings open, a gust of stale air hits him, thick with stillness. His eyes immediately scan the space, searching for the life he just heard. But as he steps inside, it’s clear- the main rooms haven’t been touched in days, especially the kitchen. He moves toward the bedroom when the bathroom door suddenly swings open. 

Both of you freeze, staring at one another in shock. 

For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking in the hollowed eyes, the tangled hair, the way your clothes sit wrong on you—looser in some places, clinging in others— like they were meant to fit differently but now just hang, like an afterthought. His chest tightens—not in disgust, never that— but in a quiet, constrained ache. He swallows it down, he knows letting you see that pain won’t help. Instead, he inhales, careful, and controlled. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, he hears it. 

Get out 

The words reach him, but his mind trips over them, grasping for meaning. 

For a second, all Sylus processes is the sound of your voice—hoarse, unsteady, faint, as if it took all your energy to speak at all. His mind is still trying to catch up, to piece everything together. But that’s when he really sees you. The way you stand there stiffly, eyes shining with unshed tears, flickering to anything that isn't him. As if meeting his gaze would break your resolve. The tension in your jaw, arms crossed tightly over your chest, shoulders hunched forward, as if you’re shielding yourself from him. And then he sees it—fear. Shame. They were there all along, laced with the exhaustion and neglect. Deeply settled, lingering long before he walked in the door. He had been so focused on finding you, making sure you were safe, that he hadn’t realized—you didn’t want to be found. Not like this. 

The tightness in his chest twisting further, a quiet reminder of his mistake. Instead, he exhales in that same rehearsed way.

"Sweetie," he tries again. His voice was low, full of gentleness. Less of a greeting, more of a reassurance. He’s not going anywhere. 

You just shake your head, a silent refusal, as if willing for him to disappear. Your stance is firm, guarded. But Sylus isn't someone who retreats at the first sign of a challenge. Especially not when it's you. 

"I know kitten, I know you don't want me to see you like this. And I know you think that pushing me away will make everything easier for you, for me. But it won't, it hasn't. You don't have to do this alone." 

He sees the tears start to fall, a quiet surrender that he takes as a response. Without hesitation, he continues, his voice softer but unwavering.

Taking a small step forward, slow yet deliberate as he speaks, "Just focus on me for a second, okay? Forget about everything else, it's just us. Can you breathe with me, my love?" As he demonstrates with measured, even breaths. Never forcing, just offering, hoping it will bring your attention back to the present instead of whatever thoughts you're trapped in.

He notices the way your hunched shoulders drop, relaxing slightly, and how your clenched arms finally loosen their grip on your body. He continues to encourage you, taking slow, careful steps closer. 

"You don’t have to do anything big. I’m not here with any expectations. Why don’t we just sit down? We don’t have to talk, I’ll just sit with you, if that’s okay." His voice is soft, low, coaxing. 

Sylus notices the immediate shift in your demeanor as you register his close proximity-the shield coming back as your body goes rigid once again. You close back in on yourself and take a step back. 

You should go. I stink and I'm sure I look horrific; you mutter as your hand comes up to your face to shield it. His heart pangs, but he doesn't let his expression falter. He can't afford to let you see how much it hurts him that you're hiding from him like this. He takes another small step closer, never pushing, just allowing the space between the both of you to remain as it is. He doesn't want to make you feel trapped, but he wants to show you, prove to you, that he's not leaving.

"Kitten," his voice steady and carrying a weight of reassurance deeper than words can convey. "I'm not leaving. If I wanted to, I would. You know I don't do things I don't want to. But I'm here, for however long you want me around. I'm yours." 

You scoff, shaking your head, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Why?" you ask, voice cracking. "Look at me, smell me, Sylus. Jesus Christ I'm disgusting. Why would you want to stay? Are you nuts?" 

"It's been suggested," he cuts in, his tone remaining gentle yet firm. Finally, you look up at him, and the anger in your gaze takes him by surprise but he holds his ground. 

"You just don't get it," you emphasize, your words sharp and full of frustration. "What's there to get?" he wonders but doesn't dare to speak it. "Sweetie," he says tenderly, "if this is you at your worst, then I've suffered far worse than this. You think I haven't smelled, or hit rock bottom before? When I did-or if I do sometime in the future, would you leave me? Would you push me away" 

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, your voice tinged with exasperation. His lips quirk into a soft smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"Can I hold your hand?" he whispers, watching you closely, waiting for your response. You hesitate, then barely nod, just enough for him to catch it. He takes your hand in his, lifting it gently to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the way your face scrunches up, a grimace of discomfort, but the smile on his lips remains warm and unwavering. 

"How about this," he continues, "I'll make you something small to eat. You don't have to finish it. Just one bite. No pressure."  

You pause, your mind working through his offer. Until, after a moment, your shoulders sag in defeat, and with a sigh, you agree. Your hand still secured in his, he leads you to the kitchen, placing another kiss on the top of your head before turning to the fridge to pull out what little food there is. 

"After we eat, can you shower with me?" The words barely escape your lips, so faint that for a moment he's unsure he heard them. He looks at you, hoping his love for you radiates in his gaze.

"Of course," he replies, his voice steady and sure. "Whatever you want, my dove." He watches as the faintest of smiles flicker across your face, the kind of smile he's willing to wait for, no matter how long it takes. 

Tag list: @withering-dream @madam8 @t4naiis @sunhooniez

[merelylillies]

˗ˋˏ ─────── ‧˚⊹☽ ◯ ☾˙₊๋ ────── ˎˊ-

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Note: ‘‘Sorry if it’s bad,,

・・・・・​​⟢

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Pairing: (Fem.)Reader x Sylus

Content Warnings: (NSFW) Thigh Riding

✦・・・・・​​・・・・・​​・・・・・​​・・・・・​​✦

The leader of Onychinus leaned back onto the bed's headboard, watching the bed dipping from the shuffling of your knees. As you hovered over his lap, movement shy but deliberate, you felt a large hand find its way onto your lower back. The warm palm making its way up your spine, churning a pleasurable heat in your stomach, until it wrapped around one of your shoulders.

Before you can even question the newfound grip, the hand pushes you down firmly, making you topple over to the side, a leg landing between his, another by the side of his hip.

Despite your surprise, all you could register was where you were sitting. His thigh, muscular even covered with his black dirtbike jeans, pressed directly between your now spread legs.

Fuck.

Looking up at him, his eyes were staring at you intently, a raised eyebrow as if his very own lips weren't quirked up into a smirk. As if he wasn't the one who had ruined your plans.

A couple nights back, during a drinking game with the Kieran and Luke, you had bet the twins you could top Sylus. Now was that your best moment? No. But you were drunk- and hey you could totally top him if you wanted.

Sylus being Sylus, cockily let you have a chance. But you'd prove him wrong.

Right?

"What's wrong?" Amusement clear in his voice.

"You said you'd let me take the lead tonight.” Your response as bitter as you can muster with the tension that seems to grow with every breath.

"And I am." He chuckles before bringing two fingers between your brows, massaging the frown away, then dropping to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your face in an almost mocking way.

"Go ahead."

Maybe you should've known better. Because just as you leaned forward, aiming to take charge, his thigh lifted. Instantly your lips closed and your core tightened, eyes fluttering up to his.

A pause.

"Sweetie? Did you not hear me?" He says softly, the tone betraying his expression, as his gaze takes you in.

"I said go ahead," Another move.

"Do as you want," Harsher against your core.

"You're the boss tonight." He says with delight.

And god why is it so hard to gather your thoughts. Curse him and his ridiculous thighs-

Another bit of friction and you feel yourself lowering you body weight on him.

"Oh?" The bastard has the audacity to act like he doesn't know what he's doing. His leg continuously rubs against you, the rhythm unsteady on purpose, keeping you on your toes.

"Are you alright Princess?" He teases. And you can feel the flexing muscle hit just right, making you clamp your legs around his singular one.

Shit, why does it feel so good?

"I'm fine." You mumble.

"Yeah?" His leg jerks up, and your breath hitches audibly. "Are you?" Another movement and you feel your sanity start snapping, your resolve crumbling and humiliation be dammed-

Double Fuck.

You tentatively move your hips. The friction of his pants material only further aiding your relief. Before long you're rutting against his leg shamelessly as he watches with an amused smile. Eyes half lidded as the flicker back and forth between where you sit on him and your face contorting every time he flexes just right.

And fucking hell you're close. And he's just enjoying himself doing nothing but grinning-

Sending the grind of your hips stutter more and more Sylus sighed out a breath that resembles a small laugh.

"But wait a second." Two large hands circle around your hips gently, before firmly pushing you down onto his leg. The pressure pushing a small yelp past your lips.

"Didn't you want to lead tonight Sweetheart?" As you try to regain rhythm your hips trembles and shake from his grip, not allowing your movement past staying put on his thigh, pressing you down onto the muscle.

And you were so fucking close- can he just-

"Just- Sylus-" You pant out, hands gripping at his slightly unbuttoned shirt, the dark fabric crumpled in your fingers. And suddenly a rush of humiliation runs down your body and goes straight to your core, realizing how disheveled you were while you were both still fully dressed. He was beyond unaffected though.

"Can I just what?" He hums calmly.

"Oh I'm sorry." He feigns pity with a shit eating smirk.

"Were you close?"

[oaksgrove]

ok, but imagine that John is the first one reader call for help. Like he is such husband material and if anything goes wrong in their house she is calling him

Husband Price is such a delight to write! thank you for the prompt I wrote a little drabble hope you like it! reminder that my dm's are always open! <3

pairing: Jonh Price x Reader

summary: The phone felt heavy in your hand, your heart racing as you debated whether to call. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought about dialing his number, but this wasn’t a casual check-in or a playful banter over who was buying dinner. This was different.

Warnings: Mild panic, mention of fire (resolved), lots of fluff.

word count: 886

A sharp, acrid smell filled your nose, and you winced, glancing at the mess in the kitchen. Smoke billowed from the pan on the stove, and the smoke alarm was already screeching its protest. The fire wasn’t massive—not yet—but the way the flames licked at the edges of the pan made your chest tighten. You’d tried to be careful, you really had, but one misstep with the oil and it had flared up faster than you could react.

John had shown you how to handle these things before—his patient voice guiding you through safety tips you’d never imagined needing. And yet, here you were. You grabbed the phone, dialing without another thought.

The line barely rang once before his voice came through, steady and calm. “Love? Everything alright?”

“John,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “It’s the stove—it caught fire, and I don’t know—”

“Calm down,” he interrupted, his voice instantly grounding. “Are you hurt? Are the flames spreading?”

“No—no, it’s just the pan. I tried to—”

“Alright, listen to me carefully.” His voice was like a balm to the rising panic in your chest. “Turn off the stove if you can. Don’t touch the pan—just let it sit. Do you have a lid?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you were already moving.

“Good. Carefully cover the pan. Slowly, love. Don’t rush it.”

You followed his instructions, your hands shaking but steady enough to place the lid on the pan. The flames smothered almost immediately, leaving behind nothing but smoke and your pounding heartbeat.

“It’s out,” you breathed into the phone, relief washing over you in a wave. “The fire’s out.”

“Good girl,” he said softly, the praise easing the knot in your chest. “Open a window, let the smoke clear. I’m on my way.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Of course I do,” he cut in firmly. “Stay put. I’ll be there in ten.”

True to his word, it wasn’t long before the familiar rumble of his car pulled up outside. You hadn’t realized how much tension you were holding until you saw him step through the door, his eyes scanning you first before moving to the kitchen.

“Everything alright?” he asked, crossing the room in a few strides to pull you into his arms. His hands were warm, steady, a stark contrast to the way you were still trembling.

“Yeah,” you mumbled into his chest, feeling a little foolish now that it was over. “I just… I panicked.”

He pulled back to look at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Love, you did the right thing calling me. I’d rather be here for something small than miss something big, yeah?”

You nodded, a weak smile tugging at your lips. “I was just trying to make dinner.”

He chuckled, glancing at the blackened pan on the stove. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate the effort, but let’s order in tonight.”

You laughed despite yourself, the sound easing the last bit of tension lingering in the air. As he led you to the couch, insisting you sit while he tidied up, you couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for his quick response, but for the way he made you feel safe, no matter how big or small the situation.

[hansmic]

｡･ﾟﾟ･𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒｡･ﾟﾟ

han jisung x fem! reader

summary: Years into their relationship, jisung suddenly changes. He seems distant, his feelings no longer as clear as they once were. you wonder if his love was ever real or if you were just a placeholder. Can you find a way back to each other before it’s too late?

genre: angst, romance

warnings: um I guess han is kind of an asshole in this and cursing?

word count: 2.0k

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆

It had been 3 years since you and Jisung started dating. At first, the relationship seemed perfect. Jisung was everything you could have ever wanted. He was caring, loving, and always there for you. You felt like you were on cloud nine, and nothing could ever ruin your happiness.

But as the months passed, you started to notice subtle changes in Jisung’s behavior. He would spend more time on his phone, his attention shifting away from you. His responses became shorter, his affection less evident.

You tried to brush off these changes, convincing yourself that it was just a phase. Maybe he was just going through a rough time or was stressed out. But deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Every time you tried to bring it up, he would brush it off, saying everything was fine.

As time went on, those subtle changes became more apparent. Jisung would spend entire days locked in his room, barely even noticing your presence anymore. He would no longer spend quality time with you, and when he did, he seemed distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"Jisung... we need to talk."

He was sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on his phone. He didn't even look up as you approached, his fingers still moving across the screen.

"I can't right now," he replied, his tone short and dismissive. "I'm busy."

Your heart sank at his response, a wave of hurt and frustration washing over you. You had tried to talk to him multiple times, but he always brushed you off, making excuses.

"Busy with what, exactly?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He finally looked up from his phone, his expression annoyed. "I don't know, work stuff I guess." He replied, not even trying to hide the fact that he was lying.

You could see right through his excuse. It was painfully obvious that he was avoiding the conversation. It hurt, deeply, to know that he was putting his work before you.

"Jisung, we both know that's not true." You said, your voice growing louder, your frustration escalating. "You've been distant for months, spending more time on your phone than with me. I deserve an explanation."

He let out a sigh, setting his phone down on the coffee table. "I don't know what you're talking about. Everything's fine." He muttered, his eyes darting away from your gaze.

You shook your head, your jaw clenching in frustration. "No, everything's not fine. You've changed, and I can't even recognize you anymore."

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I don't have time for this right now. Can't you just leave me alone?"

His words hit you like a physical blow, and your chest tightened with hurt and anger.

"I'm not going to just leave you alone. I'm your girlfriend! We're supposed to talk things through when there's a problem."

He rolled his eyes, his irritation clear. "Right, because you're always so good at that." He said sarcastically, his words dripping with bitterness.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, taken aback by his sudden hostility. "I've tried to talk to you multiple times, but you always brush me off."

He shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "It means you're always nagging me, always complaining about something. It's draining, honestly."

"So now it's my fault that you've become distant and cold?" You asked incredulously, your anger flaring. "I'm not nagging, I'm trying to resolve our problems! But you won't even listen to me!"

"Oh, here we go again." He said, rolling his eyes. "It's always about you, isn't it? You're making a big deal out of nothing."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "A big deal out of nothing? You've been ignoring me for months, and you think I'm making a big deal out of nothing?"

"You're being dramatic. I have a job, I have responsibilities. I can't be glued to your side 24/7." He said, his tone becoming more and more detached.

"I'm not asking you to be glued to my side 24/7. I'm asking for a little bit of your time! Is that really so much to ask for?" You cried out, tears welling up in your eyes.

He huffed, shaking his head. "You're asking too much. I'm tired, I'm stressed. Can't you just leave me alone and let me have some peace?"

His words stung, and you felt your heart crumbling with every syllable that left his lips.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity of your emotions consumed you. You had reached your breaking point, and his dismissive attitude only fueled your anger.

"Is that what I am to you? Just a nuisance that gets in the way? Someone you can push aside whenever you feel like it?"

Jisung's expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. For the first time, he seemed to realize the gravity of his words.

"That's not what I'm saying..." He started, but you interrupted him, your voice filled with a mixture of hurt and anger.

"Then what are you saying, Jisung? Because from where I'm standing, it sure as hell sounds like you're saying I'm an inconvenience to you." He looked away, his jaw clenching as he tried to find the right words. "I just... I need space, okay? I need some time to myself to deal with things."

The words were like a dagger to your heart. You had tried so hard to keep the relationship afloat, and now he was asking for space?

"Space?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. "You need space? After three years of being together, you're suddenly saying you need space?"

He didn't respond, avoiding your gaze, and his silence spoke volumes.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. After everything you had been through together, after all the sacrifices you had made, he was suddenly pulling away. "Is there someone else?" You asked, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"What?" He looked up, genuine surprise flashing across his face. "No, there's no one else. Why would you even think that?"

The look of confusion in his eyes made you hesitate, but the doubts and suspicions that had been gnawing at your mind for weeks would not be silenced.

"How am I supposed to believe that? You've been so distant, spending more time on your phone than with me. You barely even look at me anymore." Your voice trembled, your fear and insecurity now evident.

"It's not like that." He said, his tone defensive. "I've just been stressed out with work. I don't have time to focus on anything else."

His words were a clear attempt to deflect the blame, and it only fueled your anger further.

You couldn't take it anymore. The pain and exhaustion were overwhelming. You needed to get away from him, from the situation itself.

"Fine." You said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "You want space? You can have all the space you want."

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, stunned.

As you walked out of the apartment, tears streaming down your face, you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back. But you didn't dare turn around, knowing that if you did, you might break down completely.

You walked blindly, your vision blurred by tears. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, hurt, anger, and despair all fighting for dominance.

Finally, you found yourself in a nearby park. You collapsed onto a bench, burrying your face in your hands as you allowed yourself to fully surrender to the pain that had been building up inside you for months.

You sat sobbing on the bench, the weight of your emotions crashing over you like waves.

But just as the tears began to slow, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

"Hey." The voice was soft, tentative.

You looked up, your eyes widening as you saw Jisung standing a few feet away, his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie. He looked unusually nervous.

"Can I sit?" He asked, gesturing to the empty space next to you on the bench.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart still raw from the previous encounter. But despite the pain he had caused, you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him. Wordlessly, you nodded and scooted over to make room for him.

He sat down, the distance between you palpable. Neither of you spoke for a few moments, the silence stretching out uncomfortably. Finally, he cleared his throat, breaking the awkward tension.

"I was wrong." He started, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him.

You remained silent, listening intently. A part of you wanted to lash out, to unleash all the pent-up anger and hurt, but curiosity held you back.

"I... I've been distant. And I've been selfish. I pushed you away, and I hurt you because I was scared." He continued, his voice growing quieter with each word.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the raw sincerity in his tone catching you off guard.

"Scared?" You finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of what?"

He took a deep breath, his shoulders visibly tensing. "I was scared of losing you. Of screwing things up. And in the process, I ended up doing exactly that."

A mix of pain and hope twisted in your chest. It was the first time he had showed any vulnerability since everything had started to go downhill.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you push me away instead?"

"I thought... I thought if I kept you at a distance, it would protect me. It was easier to be cold and distant than to open up and risk getting hurt." He confessed, his fingers fidgeting nervously with a loose thread on his jeans.

"But you ended up hurting me instead." You said, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart was a tangled web of emotions, the pain from his actions still fresh in your mind, but mixed with a glimmer of hope and understanding.

"I know. And I'm so sorry." He said, finally looking at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I never wanted to hurt you. I was just... scared. I didn't know how to handle everything, and I pushed you away because it was easier than dealing with my own fears."

You studied his face, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse. For a moment, all the hurt and anger subsided, replaced by a glimmer of empathy.

"Why did you come after me?" You asked, your voice shaky.

"Because I had to make things right." He said, his gaze never leaving yours. "I couldn't just let you walk away. I needed to tell you how sorry I am. And that... and that I don't want to lose you."

Your heart clenched at his words. A part of you wanted to believe him, to forgive him and move forward. But a larger part was still wary, still hurting from the months of neglect and indifference.

"I want to believe you." You said, your voice tremulous. "But I'm scared. You hurt me, Jisung. How do I know you won't just pull away again the next time things get tough?"

He reached out, taking your hand in his. "I can't promise I won't make mistakes again. I'm human, and I make stupid decisions. But what I can promise is that I'll always do my best to communicate with you, to never let my fears and insecurities push you away again."

As his fingers curled around yours, warmth spread through your body, the connection you had once felt so deeply reigniting. You wanted to believe him, to give him a chance.

"I...I need time." You said softly, your voice filled with vulnerability.

"Take all the time you need." He said, his grip on your hand tightening. "I'll be here. I'm willing to wait as long as it takes. And in the meantime, I'll do everything I can to make it up to you."

As you sat there, your hand in his, the clouds slowly began to clear away. The hurt and anger were still there, but underneath it all was a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆

a/n: lmk if you want a part 2 of when they get back together.

masterlist is here!

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Five | Main Masterlist

Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.

Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.

“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”

“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.

Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.

“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”

“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”

“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”

Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”

Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.

The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.

The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.

“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”

Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”

Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”

Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.

Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.

Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”

For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”

Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”

Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.

JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?

He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.

You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉

Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.

“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.

Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.

Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.

Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.

“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”

“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”

“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.

He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.

“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”

Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.

With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.

After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.

Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.

“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.

You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.

“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.

“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”

Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.

Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.

When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.

With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?

“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”

“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.

The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”

She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.

“Would you be upset if I was?”

Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.

“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”

Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”

Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”

You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”

The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.

The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.

The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.

The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.

Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.

“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”

“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.

A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.

By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.

Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”

He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.

“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.

The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.

Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”

“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”

You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”

Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.

Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.

“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.

“You.”

There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.

His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.

Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.

Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.

“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”

“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.

Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981 @marirxse

[soleilpinto]

Cruising in Papaya: Private but not Secret ˚‧｡⋆🍁

“Life’s Better on Saturn ” ˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚ (Saturn, SZA)

Synopsis: Y/N Laurant, a glamorous socialite, meets Lando Norris during a race weekend, sparks fly between the two, but as their feelings deepen, they struggle to balance their secret relationship with their public lives, all while navigating the pressure of the fast-paced F1 scene.

Genre: (Some) Angst, Fluff, Romance

AU: Social Media and Written!au

Pairing: Lando x Afab!Socialite!Reader

Warnings: None

Note: Did not expect to become so busy lately, this is the final part before the actual finale so everyone buckle up 😭 Thank you all for the support once again and as always don’t forget to like + reblog as a form of support!

Cruising in Papaya Masterlist. (Prev./Next.)

@pitlanespy the way y/n and lando are handling their relationship is so refreshing. they’re not flaunting, but they’re not hiding anymore either. we love a balanced couple

@chicanechatter y/n and lando have mastered the art of keeping it private but not secret. leave them alone and let them enjoy their love!

@turn1drama ok but y/n keeping things private yet giving us hints every now and then is such a power move. the girl knows her pr

@papayaruIes well duh, she’s a socialite. she’s practically an expert

@f1gossipupdates I can’t believe Y/N and Lando are finally being open-ish. Like, she really said ‘we’re together, but y’all don’t need all the details.’ I respect it!

The short off-season break had been a rare pocket for you and Lando to relax without the rush of race weekends or the scrutiny of flashing cameras. It was a crisp afternoon in Monaco, the sun reflecting off the gentle waves as the two of you sat on the terrace of Lando’s apartment overlooking the harbor.

With steaming cups of coffee in hand and a blanket draped over your shoulders, the moment felt calm, natural—far removed from the chaotic world outside.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Lando broke the silence, his voice soft. “Being able to just exist without worrying about anyone watching.”

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It does. I was almost starting to forget what that felt like.”

The two of you had tiptoed the fine line between privacy and secrecy, but the responses to your soft launch had been surprisingly supportive.

Fans who had once speculated endlessly about your relationship now seemed to respect the boundaries you were trying to set. It was refreshing, almost liberating.

Lando set his mug down and turned to face you fully, his expression growing more serious. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he began, hesitating just enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

“That sounds ominous,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled but didn’t look away, his blue eyes searching yours.

“I don’t want us to hide anymore,” he admitted.

“I mean, I know we’ve already agreed to keep the details of our relationship private—and I want to stick to that. But I hate the thought of going to the next Grand Prix without you. It feels wrong now like I’m leaving a part of me behind.”

Your heart softened at his words, but you couldn’t help the cautious tone in your response. “Lando, you know how intense it can get. Even with the positive reactions, there will always be backlash. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

He reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything. I’ve been through enough to know that people will always have something to say, but it doesn’t matter to me. What matters is us—and I want you there with me, not just in the background but by my side. I think we can handle it together.”

You studied his face, finding nothing but sincerity in his expression. It was hard not to be moved by his resolve. You had spent so much time questioning if the two of you could make it work, but Lando’s unwavering confidence in your relationship made you want to believe it too.

“And you think it’ll make things easier if I’m there with you?” you asked, your voice teasing but soft.

He grinned, leaning closer. “I know it will. Plus, you being there might actually make all those post-race media sessions bearable.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Norris. You win. I’ll come with you to the next Grand Prix—but you’d better promise to share some of the attention.”

His face lit up with a mixture of relief and happiness, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Deal.”

As the two of you sat back, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow around you, it was clear that this decision marked the start of a new chapter. No more hiding in shadows or ducking behind corners. You would face the world together, one race at a time.

The soft hum of Monte Carlo filled the space between your words as you sipped your coffee, the warmth of the mug grounding you.

Pietra leaned back into the plush armchair across you, her curiosity palpable as the sunlight bathed your living room in a golden hue.

“So,” Pietra began again, her voice playful yet genuinely inquisitive. “Are we finally getting the tea on you and Lando?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you set your mug down on the table. “You’re so nosy.”

“Nosy?” she retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Please, I’ve been invested ever since that media meltdown since your birthday. There’s a difference. Now spill.”

Her lighthearted tone brought a smile to your face, but the memories of the past month made your chest tighten slightly.

Pietra had been one of your closest confidantes ever since you met Lando's close circle, one of the few who truly understood the chaos of public scrutiny and the complexities of trying to maintain a personal life within it.

If anyone could handle the details of what you’d been through, it was her.

Taking a deep breath, you began. “We’re good now,” you said, the words feeling like a balm as they left your lips. “Really good, actually. But it wasn’t always like that.”

Pietra’s expression shifted, her teasing giving way to concern. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “What happened?”

You hesitated, your fingers lightly tracing the rim of your coffee mug as you gathered your thoughts.

“When everything blew up, it felt like the world was against us. The media was relentless, fans were speculating every little thing, and it felt like we couldn’t catch a break. It all came to a head, and we ended up having this huge fight.”

Her brows knitted together. “Over the media?”

“It was more than that,” you admitted. “It was the pressure, the constant hiding, the fear that we’d never be able to have something real outside of all the noise. Lando was frustrated, and I don’t blame him. But he said some things…” You trailed off, the memory still stinging.

Pietra reached over, placing a comforting hand on yours. “Things that hurt?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. And I was so overwhelmed, I left. Went back to Saint Tropez. For a while, I thought that was it for us. I couldn’t see how we’d come back from it.”

She squeezed your hand gently, her voice soft. “But you did.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“We did. During the break, Lando found out I was in Monaco. He called me—said he wanted to talk, that he couldn’t leave things the way they were. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see him, but when I did…” You paused, exhaling deeply. “It felt like the right thing to do.”

Pietra’s eyes softened, her smile encouraging you to continue.

“We had a long talk. About everything—what we want, what we’re afraid of, what we’re willing to do to make this work. It wasn’t easy, but we both realized that letting go wasn’t an option. We care about each other too much to let all the outside noise ruin what we have.”

Pietra leaned back, her smile widening. “That’s huge, Y/N. It sounds like you both really fought for this.”

You nodded, the relief of the memory settling over you. “We did. And now, we’re taking it one step at a time. He asked me to come to the next Grand Prix with him. He doesn’t want us to hide anymore, and honestly, I don’t either. But we’ve agreed to keep things private—no oversharing, no giving the media more than they need. Just us, on our terms.”

Pietra’s grin turned mischievous. “Oh, I can’t wait to see the paddock’s reaction when you show up with him again. The fans are going to lose it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sure they will. But for the first time, it doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels… manageable.”

“That’s because you’re doing it the right way,” Pietra said confidently. “You’re setting boundaries, and you’re doing this together. It’s going to be okay.”

“Thanks, Pietra,” you said, your smile grateful. “It feels good to finally have some clarity, to know that we’re in this together.”

“Absolutely,” she said, a sparkle in her eye. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. You owe me every detail about how it goes when you’re back at the Grand Prix.”

You laughed, feeling a lightness you hadn’t in weeks. “Oh, trust me, I’ll have plenty to share.”

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of hope. For the first time in a while, the future with Lando felt bright, and you were ready to take on whatever came next—together.

liked by mclaren, lando and others

laurant.yn off-season kick off

francisca.cgomes 😍

mclaren starting the break right 🧡

lando ❤️

@f1landolove SHE POSTED HIM. SHE REALLY POSTED HIM. Y/N AND LANDO ARE OFFICIALLY OFFICIAL. I’M SCREAMING. 😭❤️ 

@paddockqueen_ Not me refreshing my feed 100 times today just to confirm it wasn’t a fever dream. Y/N posted Lando on her MAIN. THE MAIN!!! 🔥👀

@pitstopsocialite_ Y/N really said, “Soft launch era is OVER.” That pic of Lando is giving boyfriend energy. We love to see it. 🥰

@f1overdrive Okay, but I’m lowkey jealous… Y/N Laurant is the definition of having it all. Fashion icon + F1 driver boyfriend? Goals

@neutralnora Honestly, happy for them. Y/N seems like she keeps Lando grounded, and he deserves that. 🥹

@shadypaddock I give it six months. Relationships in the spotlight rarely last. 🙄

The energy in Singapore was electric, the vibrant city buzzing with excitement as race weekend loomed closer. You stood beside Lando, your suitcase rolling quietly behind you as you both exited the airport.

The humid air wrapped around you, mingling with the chatter of fans and photographers who had already spotted you.

Flashes of cameras ignited like small bursts of lightning, and the occasional murmur of your name reached your ears. You instinctively glanced at Lando, who gave you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.

“We’re really doing this,” you said softly, your voice a mix of nerves and determination.

“Yeah, we are,” Lando replied, his eyes meeting yours with steady resolve. “No more hiding. No more letting them control the narrative. It’s just us, and we’re not apologizing for it.”

The ride to the hotel was quiet, the occasional buzz of your phone from notifications breaking the silence. You knew the media frenzy was already kicking off—pictures and videos of the two of you had likely hit social media within minutes of your arrival. But for the first time, you didn’t feel the weight of it.

As you stepped into the hotel lobby together, the atmosphere shifted. Fans waiting in the lounge glanced your way, some pulling out their phones, their whispers barely audible over the soft music playing in the background.

“People are watching,” you said under your breath, your fingers brushing against his arm.

Lando chuckled lightly. “Let them watch. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

His nonchalant attitude eased the tension in your shoulders, and you found yourself smiling despite the circumstances. The two of you checked in without a hitch, the staff professional and discreet, even as you caught sight of a few camera flashes from outside the glass doors.

Once you reached the privacy of your suite, the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding finally began to dissipate. You sank onto the plush couch, letting out a long exhale.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you said, glancing at Lando as he placed your bags by the wall.

He sat beside you, leaning back with a grin. “See? I told you. We can handle this.”

You turned to face him, your expression softening. “It’s just… surreal. To finally be here with you, not worrying about every little thing. I mean, I know the rumors and gossip won’t stop, but it feels different now.”

“It does,” Lando agreed, taking your hand in his. “Because we’re not letting it control us anymore. We’re doing this our way, on our terms.”

You nodded, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “It’s going to take some getting used to, though. I’m sure the paddock will have a lot to say.”

“Let them,” Lando said with a shrug, his tone calm but firm. “I don’t care what they think, as long as you’re with me.”

His words sent a wave of reassurance through you, and you squeezed his hand gently. “You’re really good at this whole boyfriend thing, you know that?”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple. “I try.”

The two of you spent the evening talking, discussing how you’d navigate the paddock together, and agreeing to address any questions with a united front. By the time you went to bed, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t in months.

The Singapore paddock buzzed with excitement, the air thick with humidity and anticipation for the race weekend ahead. As you and Lando walked through the gates together, it was impossible not to notice the ripple of energy your presence caused.

Fans lining the barriers gasped, some clutching their phones tightly as they captured the moment.

“There they are!” someone whispered loudly, their voice barely audible over the collective murmurs. “It’s Y/N and Lando!”

Flashes from cameras and phones lit up around you as you kept a steady pace beside Lando. He was calm, his expression relaxed but confident, while you mirrored his composure, your hand grazing his arm lightly as if to reassure yourself.

Fans erupted into chatter, their voices mixing with the distant hum of engines.

“Oh my God, they’re actually together.” “Do you think this means they’re official-official?” “They’re not hiding anymore, but they’re still so lowkey. I love it.”

As you passed a group of fans holding up McLaren flags, Lando glanced their way with a small wave and a quick smile. You couldn’t help but grin when you heard someone squeal, “He looks so happy!”

Inside the paddock, the atmosphere was no less intense. Team members and media professionals stole glances at the two of you, some openly curious, others trying to act nonchalant.

You caught sight of a camera crew lingering near the McLaren hospitality, their lenses subtly but unmistakably trained on you and Lando.

“Ready for the circus?” Lando muttered under his breath, leaning slightly toward you.

You smirked, keeping your gaze forward. “I think I can handle it. You’re the one who’s got to focus on racing.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch. “I’ve got that part covered. It’s the rest of this that’s new for me.”

Before either of you could say more, you spotted Lily Zneimer and Hattie Piastri approaching from the McLaren hospitality, their faces lighting up when they saw you.

“You’re here!” Lily exclaimed, her voice full of excitement as she pulled you into a quick hug. “I was wondering when you’d show up!”

Hattie grinned, giving Lando a knowing look before turning to you. “And here I thought you’d keep us guessing forever.”

You laughed, your nerves easing slightly. “I figured it was time. Can’t keep hiding forever, right?”

“Exactly,” Lily agreed, linking her arm with yours. “And you’ve got us. The paddock isn’t so bad once you’ve got the right people.”

Lando excused himself briefly to check in with his team, leaving you with Lily and Hattie. You felt the stares around you but found yourself surprisingly unbothered, their presence grounding you.

When Lando returned, he didn’t hesitate to rejoin you, his arm brushing against yours in a way that felt both casual and intimate. He didn’t seem fazed by the whispers or the cameras subtly tracking your every move.

Instead, he leaned down slightly and murmured, “Told you we’ve got this.”

You glanced up at him, the corner of your mouth lifting into a small smile. “We do.”

As the two of you walked deeper into the paddock, side by side, it was clear to everyone watching: while you weren’t laying out the details of your relationship, you weren’t hiding it anymore, either. And from the way fans’ excited chatter filled the air, it seemed they couldn’t be happier to finally see you together.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

Taglist: @bakingpiastries @linnygirl09

[anisespice]

12:34am — manjiro sano

Honestly, he should’ve seen it coming.

As soon as they were situated in a secluded area of the quaint, little ramen bar they occasionally visited, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that wouldn’t relent until it revealed itself. The next thing MIKEY knew, right after the server placed steaming food on the table and left the room, a gaggle of low-rate thugs came barreling in, guns drawn and aimed practically in his face with misplaced confidence. He didn’t even flinch, just set his chopsticks back down with a slow exhale through his nose.

“Can I at least eat a little before you try to kill me?” Mikey muttered, disinterested gaze briefly scanning over the opposition, sizing them up. Wack.

“Your last meal’s finna be this bullet, asshole. This what happens when you fuck with the Tokyo Vipers. We don’t care how tough you are, you’re gonna pay for what you did to Boss Nakashima!”

“Who?” Clearly, not the response they were looking for.

A stand-off commenced, his executives quick to pull out their own weapons, choosing a target with full intent to kill. The one guy focused on Mikey remained adamant to land one right between his eyes, resolve unshakable even with two or three guns aimed back at him. He’d give the idiots credit for boldness. Not everyday does the common thug grow the balls to try something with Bonten.

Unfortunately, they chose the wrong night to chase retribution.

“M-Manjiro…what’s happening?”

At the meek sound of your voice, he subtly reached for you under the table. You practically shook like a leaf, doe-eyes wide at the sight of a gun aimed at your lover with hands raised high as if you were also to blame—Definitely not the ‘simple night out’ you anticipated when he invited you to tag along. It was his own fault really, thinking simple was ever an option when it came to his reputation, not even for a night.

“A-Are they gonna kill us?” You cried, scooting closer to lean against his frame for more comfort. It made him relax a smidge, taking it as a good sign. “Please, j-just name your price, whatever the number, and it’s yours! You don’t have to do this-”

“Unless your money can bring back the dead, sweetheart, you can shove it up your ass!”

Mikey felt you jolt. Sparing you a side glance, his thumb caressed your thigh in small, reassuring circles. His poor baby, must be scared out of your mind. The blonde wanted nothing more than to shatter every bone in the bastards who put such an expression on your face.

“Let my girl step out. This doesn’t involve her.”

“The bitch stays. Want ‘er to watch you die.” The assailant hissed, thrusting the gun forward to bump against Mikey’s forehead.

His brow twitched in annoyance, grip around your thigh tightening ever so slightly as his mind filled with various ways to snap the guy’s arm without you bearing witness. The last thing Mikey wanted was you being afraid of him. You were a slice of normalcy in his chaotic life. Call him selfish, but he wanted you to stick around despite the ugly parts of it, hoping to hide it for as long as he could. Evidently, it was short-lived.

He knew he didn’t deserve it. You were too pure for a tainted soul like his, too soft for someone who’d been hardened by life, too—

“Bitch? ”

The whole room came to a halt.

All eyes had flicked over to you, uncertain if that bone-chilling tone came out of such a meek little thing, who not even seconds ago was visibly trembling. Now you were still as stone, delicate features no longer consumed by fear but contempt as you stared down the man with a slight tilt in your head. Even with tears clinging to your lashes, it was very unsettling.

You gave a hollowed chuckle. “Oh, you got me fucked up.”

The assailant blinked. “Wha-?”

“Shut up, let me tell you something,” you abruptly stood, nearly giving the Bonten men heart palpitations, fearing your next sudden move might be your last. Mikey, however, merely watched in stunned silence, hand that comforted you now hovering awkwardly as he blinked up at you. Jabbing a finger into the man’s chest, you hissed, “You can come up in here waving guns all you want, but I’ll be damned if some limped-dick, broke motherfucker calls me out my name.”

He gaped, then fixed his mouth to threaten you. “Sit your ass down before I make you regret ever meeting this scumbag, you little—”

With a quickness, you swing with a crisp thwack! to the side of his head. The room clamored about, even Mikey found himself blinking rapidly at not only your swiftness, but your audacity. With the opposition aiming their guns on you immediately, the executives instantly jetted their attention over to Mikey to gauge his reaction. He remained visual unnerved, save for the slight drop in his jaw.

“SHIT—FUCK,” the man yowled, stumbling back. With his ear ringing, vision blurring with tears, it was a wonder where you kept all that unbridled strength. Was this the same person who feared for their life not even moments ago? When he clumsily regained composure, he looked at you utterly stunned. “D—…Did you just fucking slap me? Have you lost your mind, you crazy—?!”

You raised your hand, making him flinch. “Say it again. I dare you.”

Flabbergasted. Shockandawe. Slightly aroused?

That was the consensus of every gun-wielder in the room, some more than others unable to mask the evident thrill from hearing such vulgar and venomous words drip from such a pretty mouth…Mikey being the first in line. Man’s still gawked with a glint in his eye that could only be described as carnal; since when had his kitten grown claws?

“GYAT.” Ran winced, then gave a snicker. That smack alone bounced off the walls, he just knew that had to smart. “Shake it off, buddy, shake it off.”

Sanzu, with a cackle, exclaimed, “Hit ‘em again!” earning a glare from the aggravated assailant, his gun now pointed at you and no longer on Mikey.

Kakucho grew anxious, the others just as on edge. If they didn’t take action soon, someone was bound to get trigger-happy. The situation was already unpredictable as is, but with your newfound attitude, things were sure to escalate fast. He gruffly voiced, “Boss, what’s our move?…Boss?”

Said blonde paid no kinds of attention.

Head void of any thought aside from your angelic form beneath the soft lighting standing your ground without an ounce of fear, one would think Mikey was in a trance. His bleak stare practically singed right through you, calculative as he watched your pristine facade unravel bit by bit—Such vicious words filled with vinegar and oil, a contrast to your usual peaches and cream, such discourtesy when you’re normally so well-mannered.

How long had you been hiding this side from him?

Mikey thought he had you figured out, from the moment you crossed paths he was certain he’d taint you, the walking cliche of a spoon-fed daddy’s girl who wouldn’t harm a fly, who dated bad boys just to feel something. But now? He wanted nothing more than to unravel you further, leaving you raw and exposed to reveal the devil horns you’d kept hidden behind a false halo.

And frankly, he wouldn’t mind an audience.

“Mikey.” Kakucho urged.

Said blonde hummed in acknowledgment, eyes lazily trailing off you and back at his number three, seemingly distracted. With a wordless exchange, he sighed. Just as things were getting interesting… Mikey reached up and gave the back of your thigh a tender squeeze. You turned to look at him, seething as you rebelled against his silent command. Oh, he’ll enjoy fucking that attitude out of you later.

“Sit down, [_____]. Think you’ve made your point.”

You sneered. “Like hell! My point’s been made when I have this dickhead crawling on his knees, begging for mercy—!”

Before you knew it, you’re grabbed by your thigh and pulled down into his lap. You yelped, arms instinctively shooting out to grab onto something until you landed with a small oof!

As you opened your mouth to protest, your breath hitched and the words catch in your throat at the cool feeling of Mikey’s gun now nudging against your clit through the lace of your underwear. A shutter ran through your body. Thankfully, your little display was enough cover for him to swiftly grab it from his side, playing it off as if he were restraining you.

He leaned in to speak low in your ear. “Cover your ears, baby.”

Goosebumps spread like wildfire across your skin, warmth simmering in the pit of your stomach from both frustration and excitement. Doing as you’re told, you pressed hands into your ears but kept your gaze on the offender in front of you. He was yelling about something, booming voice muffled but no doubt throwing out more threats. His group began to shrink within themselves once the severity of the situation caught up with them, and the odds no longer looked to be in their favor. You almost felt sorry for them; almost.

Before the poor bastard even knew what hit him, the smoking barrel of Mikey’s .45 was the last thing he saw before he hit the cold, hard floor with a hole in the center of his forehead. And just like that, bullets rained from every angle on your side of the room, bodies piling up one after the other until none were left standing. As quick as they came, there they went—Nothing more than stains on what was an originally calm evening.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Mikey could feel it elsewhere.

With his free hand having rested on your inner thigh, thumb dangerously close to where his pistol once was, he could feel a subtle pulse in your clit from the thrilling experience. While his men busied themselves cleaning up the scene, gathering corpses and making disposal arrangements, there was nothing left to distract him from prodding.

“It appears I’ve underestimated you. What other sides have you kept hidden from me, I wonder.” He said, tilting his head.

You whimpered as his thumb pressed against your throbbing little button, biting your lip before replying, “I-I just don’t like.. being talked to that way…”

Mikey hummed, nosing at your jaw. “My sweet girl. She got her feelings hurt, hm?”

It was hard to concentrate with him playing with you beneath the table in front of his subordinates, spreaking low and softly as he littered your sensitive spots with nips and warm kisses. With the little sanity you had left, you nodded. To your horror, you moaned quite loudly when he breached past your underwear to slip two fingers inside of you with ease thanks to your flooding arousal. But, you got over it the second he immediately curled them to hit that spongey area of your walls with a precision that nearly made you see stars.

“Your words, [_____]. You had a lot to say earlier, what happened?”

You gripped his forearm for dear life, jaw dropping as your legs subconsciously spread to give him better access. “Y-Yes!”

He cooed, arm flexing as he pushed his fingers deeper while his thumb stimulated your clit. Your back arched off his front, other hand reaching out to grip the table as you whined shamelessly at the ceiling. Neither of you paid any mind to where you were, or whomever watched, too caught up in the moment. Food had long gone cold and forgotten, bullet fragments scattered at your feet and blood splattered all on the walls. Even with his stomach growling angrily, all he could focus on was devouring you. “‘m sorry, baby. Let me make it all better.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 8

"I cannot believe you told my wife your date was with *Lena Luthor*," Alex whispers mid-yell, "before you told me!"

"Would it have changed your recommendation?"

At that, Kara hears Alex pause to consider.

"No," comes the final response. Then, "Did it work?"

Kara flushes-- she'd certainly gotten the reaction she'd been looking for. She just isn't sure she wants her sister to know that they hadn't fully resolved that desire.

"Well enough," Kara returns, settling on an incomplete truth. She'd explain the rest later... eventually.

A muttered curse issues over the line. "Jesus. How did this even happen? Wait-- what happens now? Esme said her next show is in, like... 16 hours, in Denver."

Kara smiles into the phone. "We stay in touch."

She's already received a picture via text, showing Lena with a tongue-out wink and a playful peace sign. Another photo had revealed a sticky bun, with a note that Lena had gotten Jess to swing by Noonan's on the way to the airport.

Though the sight of the sticky bun had made her hungry, the selfie made her pause to absorb the image. From the relaxed tousle of Lena's wavy hair, to the ray-bans hooked on the collar of her shirt, and the luxury of the private plane lurking around the edges.... she wonders if Lena realizes just how far she's letting Kara in, allowing her to see Lena in so personal a setting.

Kara's response had been simple. "Fly safe."

It had earned her a floating heart emoji and a promise to touch base upon landing.

"That's it?" Alex asks, pulling Kara back to the present.

Kara huffs a laugh. "What did you expect? She wasn't going to cancel half a national tour for personal time with someone she only met two days ago."

"Well why not? You're worth it."

"You're only saying that because you're my sister," Kara counters. "Besides, I don't want that for her."

Seeing Lena on stage had proven it's something the woman enjoyed. She thrived on the experience of it, and so did the thousands of fans who came to see her.

Which is why, a few hours after Lena's first Denver show would have concluded, Kara is surprised to receive a call from Lena. They'd facetimed when she'd landed, so the lack of video is her first clue that something isn't right.

"Hey," Kara greets, pressing the phone to her ear as she wipes sleep from her eyes. She'd meant to stay awake to check in herself, but not even a book had been able to keep her from dozing off.

"Hey."

Lena's voice is somber. It's such a difference that a wave of concern wakes Kara the rest of the way.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

There's a short pause before Lena responds. "Nothing."

"How was the show?"

"Fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be calling so late. I just... I wanted to hear your voice." Lena pauses again. "Is that weird?"

"No." Kara listens closely to the quiet that follows, as though it might give her some insight into what was happening on the other end of the line. "Lena..."

"Could you... talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Just... so I can listen."

Kara's brow furrows. She fights the impulse to dig deeper, to push to find the why. She doesn't need to know. Lena has asked for what she needs-- and it's something Kara is able and willing to give.

"Did I ever tell you that I didn't always live in National City?"

Lena hums a negative, prompting Kara to continue.

"I'm actually from a town up the coast. Midvale. I miss it sometimes. The stars mostly. In high school, I had friend named Kenny, and we would take his telescope to the old barn, and we would chart the skies together..."

Kara goes on, relating many and more of the troubles she and Kenny had gotten up to in those days. She was careful to steer clear of his murder, and the bullying they'd both experienced. Lena needed distraction, not more heartache.

As she speaks, Lena hums occasionally, sometimes even giving a chuckle. When the sounds of her following along peters out, Kara pauses to listen if Lena notices the stop. When no reaction comes, Kara smiles to herself.

"Lena?" she asks softly. "Still there?"

No answer comes, but when Kara increases the volume on her phone, she can hear the steady inhale and exhale of sleep. Kara listens for a few heartbeats more.

"Sweet dreams, Lena."

[grandline-fics]

Chocolate-covered Strawberries with X-Drake please! You can write it with either a pirate reader or marine or whatever you want, I don't care, thank you!

DESCRIPTION: Chocolate-Covered Strawberries- Unable to resist temptation anymore, they act

WARNINGS:  none

CHARACTERS: X-Drake

WORDS: 1,116

A/N: Hey there anon! Thank you for this request. X Drake is still new for me to write for so I hope I did a good job with this Valentines Event prompt for you. Hopefully this suits what you wanted and that you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

———————

The life of acting as a double agent had its risks. Drake knew that and accepted it, throwing his full commitment to the cause. There was always the worry of being caught out by the wrong people at the wrong time. That with his true allegiance being discovered and the consequences of the deception falling on the shoulders of those he wanted nothing more to protect. Most of the time he knew his cover was solid, and that those he surrounded himself would never doubt him. To consider that there could be a weak link in his resolve and that the mask would slip was laughable. That is the case certainly, but only because you aren’t around him a lot. Because whether Drake wants to admit it or not, you are his biggest and weakest link. As much as he missed you, part of him was glad that your mission took you in a different direction from him for his own sanity and covert professionalism.

“Need to be careful here, Captain.” Drake glanced over his shoulder to one of his crew as they approached. “Apparently this island’s had a massive Marine presence for the last few months.”

“It’s fine. So long as we keep a low profile we can avoid them unless engaging with them is the last option.” Drake explained as he looked back to the island steadily getting closer. “We’re only here to resupply after all. We’ll dock in that eastern cove to stay hidden. Only a small group is going this time.”

“Understood.” Drake only nodded in response and listened to the subordinate leave him be, returning to his tasks until it was ready. As the ship drifted silently and undetected to their hiding place at the cove, Drake mentally prepared himself for the many different scenarios of what could be awaiting him on this next stop in his journey.  

With a small group of his crew, Drake sent each of them in different directions of the town with individual orders of what supplies they needed. He waited a little while before venturing into the town himself while leaving the care and protection of the ship to the rest of the crew in his absence. Knowing how Marine’s tended to perform their patrols and the common patterns, they were easy to avoid and go about his own tasks. For a moment he believed that if things went this well, he and his crew would be gone without anyone even knowing they’d been there. Then as he stood inspecting a market stall, with his back to the street he overheard the two patrolling Marine’s mention your name in passing, excited to have someone of your rank on the island for a while. Drake’s eyes widened and he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see their backs getting further away. Were you truly here on this island?

He tried to ignore the way his heart leapt in a sudden frenzy of mixing nerves and excitement. No, he couldn’t risk seeing you. You were here for a mission and he was branded a wanted man. It was reckless, selfish to try and find you. If the wrong person saw him and you, you would be the one to suffer. You could be branded a traitor and stripped of the titles you earned through your strength and hard work. He had to be strong, he couldn’t let his weakness win. Quickly he made his purchases and forced his mind to stay firmly on the task at hand; get the supplies, go to the ship, leave. Simple. He could do it. He would do it.

Drake left keeping out of sight of the Marines to his base instincts and muscle memory because his entire focus and mental endurance was being used to fight every urge and fibre in his being to try and find you. Anytime the little voice in his head tried to convince him that just a little peek at your face would be okay, he had to tell himself no. But every step and every mental argument that crept into his mind was harder and harder to fight. Because really, what was the harm? If he kept his distance and just saw that you were okay from afar then he could continue on his way, reassured in the knowledge that the person he loved was still safe. That was fine. Right?

Blinking out of his stupor as his mind sharpened with the resolve to just get a passing glance of you he blinked in surprise to see he wasn’t headed in the direction of the cove like he thought he had been. Instead he was deeper in the town’s layout, one face amongst many in the crowd of civilians and tourists. Drake couldn’t help but subtly laugh, it hadn’t mattered what his mind tried to fight, his body had already subconsciously made the decision to seek you out. He looked around and sure enough through the throng of people he found you immediately. The rush of love and longing coursed through him powerfully and he ground his teeth together as he now faced the fact that he couldn’t just see you. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Quickly he slipped through the crowd, following you as you walked down the street. Then when it seemed to be quiet enough, he acted. Pushing power into his leg, Drake got to your side and pulled you into a small and shadowed side-street before anyone else came along. Immediately you reacted, disengaging from his hold and drawing your weapon. Just as you were about to attack you froze, breath catching in your throat to see the love of your life standing in front of you. The both of your stared at the other for a second before closing the distance and kissing eagerly, pouring every ounce of your longing for the other into the moment, desperate to make up for the many months since you’d last crossed eachother’s paths.

Breaking apart and catching your breath you smiled as Drake set his forehead against yours. Softly and knowingly a small laugh broke from your lips as you leant into the feeling of his arms around yours. “So how long between knowing I was here to finding me did it take this time?” You grinned at the feeling of Drake’s body tensing and the sudden flustered warmth of his skin at being so predictable. It was why you loved him so much, to everyone else he was such a mystery or they only got to see one version of him and it was usually false. You, however got to see and know the real him. “That quick, huh?”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow , @pao198391 , @glitchtricks94 , @nina-ya , @48daisies , @sagyunaro , @artemis162534 , @rosemary-lungs , @thecraftywriter , @rorozorolover , @yagirlsmuchelle , @engenemoazen , @sukunasstomachtongue , @nico-ith

[dollfacefantasy]

pussy spanking with chris? 💗

yes because chris is like ideal for this. those big, thick hands. like please.

chris redfield x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, pussy spanking, dom/sub dynamics

Chris Redfield had never been an obsessive man. Throughout his life, he'd been across the world, bouncing from one place to the next with whatever agency he worked for at the time. He never put much thought or desire to hang onto one location or one way of working. He didn't let things fester like Leon or Jill did. Shit happened and it was bad, but then it was over and life went on.

The only thing that has ever really transfixed Chris Redfield is you. More specifically, the piece of heaven found between your thighs.

It was beautiful. He could never get enough of it. Sometimes it took him minutes to get to actually eating you out because he could just stare at it, watching his thumb slide up and down the velvet folds.

He loved how wet you got, the pretty color of your flesh, the heady scent that fogged his head up. He craved the taste and could lap at it for hours, long after you had been satisfied. Nothing else gratified him more than watching your hole eagerly suck in his cock. His thick length sinking into you and stretching you out fulfilled the most primal of his needs.

Simply put, your pussy is his prized possession. And that's why he doesn't take kindly to anyone else touching it. Including you.

It'd been a rule between the two of you for a while now, no touching yourself without permission. Normally, you loved it, the extra lack of control giving you a little thrill whenever you thought of it. But today, you were horny. You would've asked Chris, but he'd been on a work call for most of the day, something far less important in your lustful eyes. So you just tried to resolve things yourself. You were pretty sure you could finish before he came back, and he'd be none the wiser.

It's a lucky thing you aren't a gambler though because you were dead wrong about this little bet of yours.

Chris reentered the bedroom just as things were getting good for you, the very moment the flicks of your middle finger were becoming actually pleasurable rather than just tantalizing.

He didn't hesitate to drag you to the edge of the bed and sit down next to you. His muscular arm hooks under your knees and lifts them so that your legs are folded up to your chest. Your poor, dripping pussy is on display, exposed to him and the cool air of the bedroom.

He doesn't say anything at first. His stare remains on you during the silence, letting you bask in your mistake. He drags two fingers through your slick, feeling the level to which you worked yourself up.

"What do you think you were doing, baby?" he asks gruffly.

"None of your business," you say.

"But it is my business," he says, his fingers teasingly prodding at your entrance, "It's my business because you know the rules and you know you have to ask before you touch something that belongs to me."

"It's not my fault you abandoned me for your work," you pout in an attempt to wrangle out of this by guilt tripping.

"Abandoned?" he repeats with a chuckle, "You're so dramatic, honey."

The slap that follows is quick. It's light and lands right on your center. His fingers tap your lips and leave them stinging. You mewl in response and try to squirm, but his grip is strong.

"Try again," he commands.

"I was just playing with myself cause I was bored waiting for you. I didn't even cum," you huff.

Another smack lands. Again, it's on the puffy flesh of your cunt. The hit doesn't strike anything too sensitive, but it's enough pressure to tease the ache. You buck your hips more which draws a chuckle from him before he spanks you again.

"Let's hear it without the excuses this time," he chides.

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically, but that only earns you another fast slap to your cunt.

"I was being bad and breaking a rule," you whine finally.

"Good girl," he coos, "That's better."

His thick digits part your pudgy lips and slide against your swollen clit. The tip presses down and gives you some temporary relief for the throbbing. A pleasurable sigh leaves you as he begins working you back to the release that had been stolen from you.

"I understand why you'd wanna touch yourself, babydoll. I'd play with your pretty pussy every second of the day if I could," he says, "But the rule is the rule, and you know better. Next time you wait for me."

He slaps your cunt again but this time is actually hits your poor, sensitive bundle of nerves. You yelp, sharper than before and arch your back.

"We clear?" he asks, his face remaining unaffected.

"Mhm," you whimper and nod.

"Perfect," he says. His fingers return to toying with your little nub. "I know you like it better when I do it anyways, sweet girl."

[sailorstar9]

F/N's Husband's Ex Wore A Wedding Dress And Proposed to Him At The Wedding. Zhongli's Response Shocked Everyone

Warning: Anti-Guizhong, Modern AU

On the day F/N got married to Zhongli, his ex-girlfriend showed up in a wedding dress to try to stop the wedding.

“Zhongli, this is the bravest I've ever been in my life.” Guizhong declared boldly. “Are you coming with me or not?”

F/N looked at Zhongli, who held his disbelief in his eyes. He snatched the mic and loudly questioned, “Who are you? Are you in the wrong place? If you keep messing with my wedding, I'll make sure your left eye ends up in your right eye socket.”

When F/N and Zhongli started dating, F/N's best friend secretly warned her, “Your boyfriend is so good-looking and rich. Be careful.”

In the three years of dating Zhongli, other than his occasional foul mouth, he had always been good to F/N. So on the day of their wedding, when a woman wearing a wedding dress suddenly appeared at the door, F/N was completely baffled.

“Whose bride shows up at the wrong wedding?” the guests looked at the unfamilar woman, then at F/N.

Zhongli, who had a pleased smile on his face, turned the smile into a growl upon seeing the woman.

“Zhongli, this is the bravest I've ever been in my life.” Guizhong declared boldly. “Are you coming with me or not?”

Zhongli, however, snatched the mic and loudly questioned, “Who are you? Are you in the wrong place?”

The bride in the wedding dress was taken aback by his words, her face freezing with the emotions of anticipation gratitude she had brought with her.

“Zhongli, have you forgotten?” Guizhong whimpered. “You promised to marry me.”

Zhongli, grinding his teeth in anger, replied, “Stop talking nonsense. If you don't stop now, I'll make sure your left eye ends up in your right eye socket. I don't care if you're a man or a woman.”

Tears welled up in the bride's eyes as she said, “I'm Guizhong.”

Zhongli blinked and looked closely at her. “Did you have plastic surgery? Could you fix your brain while you're at it? Who brought her here?”

The commotion was quickly resolved amidst of F/N's giggles and the bride named Guizhong was escorted away Zhongli's subordinates.

After the wedding...

“Still sulking?” F/N teased, pouring out a glass of warm water for her new husband after the wedding guests left.

“Wait until I find out who brought that woman here.” Zhongli said through gritted teeth. “I'll teach them a lesson.”

“Who's this Guizhong?” F/N asked.

Zhongli glanced at F/N and feeling somewhat guilty, replied, “She's a former employee from my company; we did date for a month. I swear, F/N, I have nothing to do with her. We broke up when I found out she's only after my status. It seems strange she'd show up at our wedding. I knew it was too rushed to register our marriage.” he nuzzled his nose on F/N's neck. “I should've been more careful about our wedding day preparation. Let's plan a honeymoon aboard and have a proper wedding ceremony.”

The rush to register their marriage last year had been F/N's fault; they had obtained their marriage certificate but the wedding had been postponed indefinitely.

The next morning...

F/N noticed Zhongli was still asleep, so she got up first to freshen up.

After a night of celebration, Zhongli had stayed up all night trying to figure out who had wanted to sabotage their wedding.

After brushing her teeth, F/N noticed she had a new friend request on WeTalk from the next before; the profile picture was a girl from behind and F/N's sixth sense told her she was the woman who had tried to break up the wedding.

A message popped up: Do you want to know what your husband said to me?

Intrigued, F/N accepted the friend request and she immediately sent a follow-up message: I'm Guizhong, Zhongli's ex-girlfriend. Do you want to see the chat history between me and your husband? Even if you threatened him to marry you, what's the use? Didn't your husband have to sooth me for a whole night? Feeling lonely on your wedding night?

“Zhongli.” F/N pulled the covers off the still groggily Zhongli. “Your ex-girlfriend said you soothed her all night.”

“What ex-girlfriend?” Zhongli was confused. “Is she crazy or what?” he sat up. “Give me your phone.”

“Are you going to confront her directly?” F/N asked, handing her phone over.

Zhongli remained silent as he opened his chat with Guizhong and she continued to send screenshots of their conversation in a relentless attempt to taunt F/N; sending the messages while mocking F/N: even if you got married to him, I have the ability to get him back.

Zhongli grew angrier as he looked at the messages and he called her. “Guizhong, do you have a mental problem? If you're ill, you should go to the hospital. Do I have any connection to you? If you keep harassing my wife, I'll call the police.”

“Zhongli, have you forgotten how you soothed me yesterday?” Guizhong simpered.

“I soothed you?” Zhongli was fuming. “Are you dreaming or just delusional? Which part of you compares to my wife? I have a gem and I'm not interested in your garbage. Please don't harass us anymore or I'll personally call your father and ask him how he raised his daughter.”

Guizhong hung up in tears and Zhongli, still shimmering in anger, shook his head.

F/N laughed and carefully examined the screenshots Guizhong had sent her. On the photo, Guizhong was having a sweet conversation with a man and upon closer inspection, the man in the profile picture was Zhongli.

“Look at this photo.” F/N showed Zhongli the picture. “Is that you?”

Zhongli furrowed his brow, looking confused. “I swear I never talked to her. It's our honeymoon, don't be angry.”

F/N just leaned against him, laughing uncontrollably.

“You always scare me.” Zhongli sighed, realizing his wife was only teasing and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

As F/N sat on the couch, she wondered: is it possible that someone is really pretending to be Zhongli and dating Guizhong?

At noon, Zhongli, who was supposed to be on vacation, was called by to his company by his partner. He had been running his own business since graduation with the support of his parents and the company had grown.

F/N herself was a novel illustrator; while drawing a sketch, she causally glanced at the local news and sure enough, both Zhongli and her were mentioned. A woman wearing a wedding dress in pursuit of love but was scolded by her groom with comments suggesting she was his ex-girlfriend.

Zhongli returned home to see a neighbour's kid throwing a water bottle at F/N and the mother accusing her of being a mistress. He was about to step in when F/N threatened to sue the mother for slander and her words had the mother leave hurriedly.

Against Zhongli's insistence, F/N made a police report and the married couple met with Guizhong again.

“if you hadn't talked to me constantly, I wouldn't have been clinging onto you.” the grey-haired woman lamented.

Amused, Zhongli mocked, “Did I not tell you this isn't my message account? I've explained it to you multiple times. Are you deaf or just can't understand?”

“Even though I'm your ex, is this how you treat me?” Guizhong burst into tears.

“Regardless if it's me or Zhongli, we've said multiple times this isn't his account.” F/N folded her arms. "Rational people would investigate who's impersonating Zhongli instead of being unreasonable. You already know it's all fake but refuse to accept the truth just to inconvenience us.” she then handed the evidence she gathered beforehand and declared she would seek further legal actions.

It wasn't long before the police identified the impostor pretending to be Zhongli and F/N wasn't surprised to see Liu Su.

“Liu Su, have you no shame?” Zhongli questioned his HR Department Head. “Using my photo to deceive women. You have the nerve to impersonate me? You even attended my wedding and when Guizhong came, you could keep it together?”

“Please don't be angry.” Liu Su apologized. “I was just out of my mind. I've had feelings for Guizhong for so long. I couldn't help it.”

“Liu Su, if you could add Guizhong on WeTalk, why not tell the truth?” F/N asked. “She came to the wedding. Why didn't you stop her? Don't tell me you didn't know before.”

“Liu Su, answer the question.” Zhongli demanded.

“You go explain to Guizhong yourself.” F/N got up to leave. “I demand she restore my reputation and publicly apologize.”

The next day...

Liu Su came to apologize, “Boss, I truly know I was wrong.”

“How you anger me is one thing, but you can't involve F/N.” Zhongli warned. “For the sake of our many years of friendship, take a three month leave. I'll assign someone to handle your work. Don't come to my house anymore. Did you really think I can't see through your act? If you regard me as your boss, you should respect my wife. You brought Guizhong to disrupt the wedding and while she's slandering and gossiping about F/N outside, did you consider me your superior? F/N doesn't need to forgive you. As her husband, all I can do is neither of you appear in front of her rather than her feeling compelled to forgive those who hurt her.”

After returning from their honeymoon...

“Liu Su and Guizhong are together.” Zhongli informed.

“They're together now?” F/N echoed in surprised. “They're a match made in heaven. Did Guizhong agree?”

“Let them be.” Zhongli pulled F/N into bed. “As long as they don't cause more trouble. If they do, I'll make them regret it.”

“Will you leave Liu Su return after his leave?” F/N laid her head on Zhongli's bare chest. “

“Whether he comes back or not doesn't matter. Now.” Zhongli shrugged. “The projects he had are being managed by others for the time being. We'll see when he returns.”

Three months later...

Liu Su returned to the company and Zhongli seemed a bit upset.

When F/N asked why, it turned out that as soon as Liu Su returned, he had arranged for the company to hire Guizhong and now she's working as Liu Su's secretary.

Sometime later...

F/N met Liu Su and Guizhong again at the company; Zhongli had called her saying that was a document at home that he need her to bring over. Since F/N was on break waiting for the next portion of the novel she was illustrating to arrive, she decided to drive over and also brought along a lunch-box.

When F/N arrived at Zhongli's company, only she and Guizhong were in the elevator.

“It's been a while, F/N.”

F/N nodded indifferently, not intending to engage with her.

Guizhong continued, “Seeing me able to work at Zhongli's company must really bother you, right?”

“What's there to be bothered about?” F/N shrugged. “Your salary is being paid by Liu Su.”

“We work side by side in the company, while you can only come by with his approval.” Guizhong taunted. “It's just how it is.”

“If I say today I'll fire you, let's see if Liu Su can save you.” F/N retorted.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened.

Pointing outside, F/N said sarcastically, “Wherever you need to go, go ahead.”

Fuming, Guizhong shot F/N a glare and exited the elevator.

After handing the document to Zhongli, F/N mentioned the incident with Guizhong.

“Did Guizhong forget to bring her brain along when she was born?” Zhongli shook his head as F/N opened the love lunch-box she prepared. “Delicious.” he bit into a matsutake meat roll.

A week later...

Zhongli's internal investigation team came back with their final report; Liu Su had not only been taking kickbacks, he had also been selling company secrets to their biggest competitors. Naturally, Guizhong was his accomplice.

Zhongli decided not to show any mercy and contacted the police; Guizhong was arrested at the company and taken in for questioning with Liu Su following shortly after.

Guizhong's case was wrapped up quickly; the company's legal department had already started legal proceedings against her and she's likely to spend the rest of her life paying off debts.

As for Liu Su, as it involved unfair business competition and bribing non-governmental officials, Zhongli sent the company's legal department after him with full force, making sure he received the maximum sentence.

[chuluoyi]

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 06

✩°｡ ⋆ a longer dream

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, mild angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, descriptions of aggressive behavior (hair pulling, hand stomping—but not to the reader)

notes: an early release! please believe me when i said that i really wanted to add megumi's reaction in the previous chapter. i cut it because it got too long already.

oh and with this i’m announcing that unholy matrimony will be on break next week to ensure the best experience :( chapter 7 will be posted on november 6, i promise.

listen to: i will stay with you - gummy :)

series masterlist | next. love unspoken

This can’t be right.

Megumi must have heard wrong.

It was barely seven in the morning, he had just woken up, and the first thing he heard was... you were asking for a what? Divorce?

"What, why?" he immediately snapped.

You kept your head low. "Because there's no reason for us to be together anymore. This whole thing―" you gestured to everything around you as you tried to contain your emotions, "―started just because I have no choice but to obey my father so that he wouldn’t take my mom as a hostage."

Honestly, Megumi didn't understand. Maybe his brain was lagging because it was meant to be a tranquil Sunday morning. But he couldn't make the heads or tails of whatever you were spouting now.

"Now that my mom is no longer in the picture," you continued, your voice steady and your eyes devoid of doubt. "He has no other means to control me. He can't have his way with me anymore."

"Hold on—" He was exasperated. Nothing's making sense. "This doesn't necessarily lead to divorce. Sena, what are you thinking?"

“I’m setting us free, Megumi,” you interjected, fixing a fierce gaze on him. “Neither of us wanted this in the first place. And now we can do it. Zen’in must have a better bride in mind for you, or you could also ditch them altogether. We can go our separate ways.”

How had it escalated into this? Weren’t the two of you just spent the night? How did you spew all of these so callously?

Megumi clenched his jaw. “No.”

"Why?!" Now it was your turn to express frustration. Honestly, you really thought he would agree. You had offered him his freedom on a silver platter—so why didn't he take it?

“You are not in the right state of mind,” he asserted, his gaze fixed at you squarely. “You haven’t thought this through. You can't make decisions solely based on your impulses, Sena.”

“I have thought this through, Megumi!”

“Clearly, you haven’t,” he retorted firmly. “If that’s the case, then tell me, should we get a divorce, what would you do?”

You fell into silence, unable to give an immediate response. “It’s—I will—”

“See?” he let out a scoff. “Is your life with me so unbearable that you’re considering a divorce?”

Your brain short-circuited, evidently and truthfully you didn’t think that far ahead. Your primary focus was to alleviate the guilt in your gut, and you believed that returning to where it all began would be better for both of you, especially him.

But was your life with him that miserable? “No.” You stiffened, biting your lower lip. You didn’t want him to think like that. Living with Megumi was far from horrible at all; in fact, it was quite the opposite.

“Then what brought this on?” he inquired once again. His tone remained calm, but it was clear that he was holding his simmering anger back. “We are perfectly fine. So what’s the deal? Give me a straightforward explanation and I’ll agree with you only if you can explain what you will do from then on.”

Why must he do this? Why did he have to be against it so much? It took everything out of you to keep your resolve from breaking.

Your heart couldn't help but soar when he opposed your idea of getting a divorce. You found yourself hoping for something more, with him.

“We are… not fine.” You ran out of arguments to convince him, as the thought of staying suddenly made more sense, against your better judgment. “I… you—you didn’t want to be married to me—”

“But now I do!” His voice rang through the apartment, leaving you momentarily speechless, trying to absorb his words.

Megumi was at his wits end. As surprising as it may seem, he had developed feelings for you, and perhaps now, those feelings had intensified into something more intense. He had these passing thoughts about how to express his feelings, and certainly this wasn't the scenario he had in mind. However, now that things had escalated to this point, he must get this across somehow.

“I know you’re having a hard time. Losing your mother isn’t something you can get over so easily—I get it. I understand that, Sena.”

Tears welled up in your eyes.

“But I promise you,” his unwavering gaze held you captive. “You are going to be fine. We are going to be fine. Forget how we started—we have made it this far regardless of that.”

Staying with you meant he would remain embroiled in the Zen'in's successor struggle, a reality he was fully aware of. But the idea of you leaving was simply inconceivable in his mind.

Now you were openly sobbing. You were happy. You knew it was still wrong, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole truth—the binding vow with Gojo. You just can’t.

You had never hoped so bad for a wrong to become right before now.

"You have me," he declared, and Megumi's hand reached for your damp cheek, cradling it gently. When your teary eyes met his, he fondly caressed your cheek.

“I will stay with you.”

That was the breaking point. You lost the hold over your emotions. If you didn't know anything else, one thing was abundantly clear—you had lived for this very moment.

And when Fushiguro Megumi pulled you into a searing kiss, you knew that life as you had known it had come to an end.

Because from now on, through endless maze, fear and loneliness, you placed your trust in him to be by your side.

"Tsk."

Naoya clicked his tongue at the first hearing held at his own Zen'in estate. Most of the elders had gathered in the main hall, with him sitting at the front row. The next seat next to him was empty.

"Can't we just start?" he spat impatiently, glaring particularly at his uncle, Zen'in Ogi—the father of the Maki and Mai—who was the head of the council to determine the next successor of Zen'in clan.

His uncle simply regarded him with a stoic expression. "We'll commence when Fushiguro arrives here."

To be frank, Zen'in Ogi harbored a strong dislike for Naoya. Not only was this young upstart trying to seize the position of the clan head that could be his by the order of seniority, he was incredibly disrespectful too. Given the choice—which he had, anyway—he still preferred Fushiguro even though he was an outsider rather than this manic twat.

"If the bastard doesn't come then it's his loss," Naoya hissed through his teeth. "Why should we wait for him? What a waste of time."

An attendant suddenly went into the room to inform that Fushiguro Megumi couldn't attend as he had prior engagements. Naoya sneered upon hearing that. "See? Even he doesn't take this the least bit seriously."

Zen'in Ogi vowed to wipe that smirk off his face, even if it was the last thing he did. To him, Naoya's behavior and lack of decorum during his brother's funeral was a blatant insult to their proud clan, and there was no way he would let him rule at the top, even though he was his brother's own flesh and blood.

Hence why he took great delight in seeing the shock on his face when he announced that the majority of the votes had gone in favor of Fushiguro instead of him.

"This isn't the final decision, of course," he remarked, casting a glance at Naoya's seething anger. "We will hold two more hearings, and by then, you can still cast your vote for the candidates you favor."

What the actual fuck—

"I advise you to get your act together, Naoya," Ogi whispered to him as the crowd dispersed. "You're hardly demonstrating why we should choose you with your rather... ah, unbecoming behavior."

Naoya clenched both his jaw and fists as his uncle walked past him. The nerve of that rotting bastard!

No one seemed to respect him any longer in this place. It seemed like everyone had started to think he could be overthrown from his rightful place.

So be it then. He just had to make it clear that he was the one in charge.

And when he spotted one of the serving girls, whom he had observed had been following several elders, and even himself, for several days now, Naoya finally had enough and pursued her as she hastened her steps.

But he was naturally faster and grabbed her hair in an attempt to catch her, causing her to yelp.

“Master Naoya!” she cried. “P-Please let me go—!”

“Shut up, you wretch!” he snapped at her with such fury that the girl could only tremble in shock. He then forcibly dragged her by the hair toward the disciplinary pit, paying no heed to her cries and pleas for him to stop.

He flung her across the hard tiles, and the girl curled up in fear. "P-Please... spare me..." she pleaded, her voice trembling with terror.

With an air of dominance, Naoya gazed down at her, and then he ruthlessly stomped on her hand, causing her to scream in agony.

“S-Stop! It hurts!” she sobbed. “P-Please!”

He crouched down, still keeping her hand pinned beneath his shoe.

“I’m acting o-on orders!” she shouted amidst the tears. “M-My mistress is the one w-who told me to come h-here!”

Naoya's lips curled into a sneer as he released his grip on her and then firmly grasped the young girl's chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Now, you fool, tell me everything.”

It was monumentally stupid. Megumi knew it, but couldn’t help but let his face burn in embarrassment regardless.

“Megumi.” You tilted your head to the side, eyes looking at him so innocently, yet hesitantly. “You want us to… uh, share one bedroom?”

The way you pronounced the word “share” was enough to drive him on edge. He knew it. You didn’t want it, but he wanted this, and yet he didn’t want to force you into it.

These three statements that negated each other made him want to crawl back to his room.

But as the saying goes, sometimes you have to fake it until you make it, right?

“Yeah, is there a problem with that?” And so faking his confidence it is.

“T-There is!” you hastily retaliated. “This is too sudden!”

“And what about it? Your bed is big enough for both of us. If not, then the one in my room it is.”

“But!” This inquiry was beyond you. Not that you were totally opposed, but this prompt change of situation left you reeling.

Okay, let us get it straight.

Confessing feelings to each other? Well, yeah, in practice, yes.

Marital status? Still wife and husband. Check.

And so, this was the cue for moving in together next, yes?

At least in the romance novels you read, yes. But quite literally, ever since Megumi’s dramatic declaration—that made you swoon amidst everything else, yes—the two of you found yourselves stuck in an awkward situation once again. He failed to look at you in the eye for two days straight after that, and now out of nowhere, asked you to share a room with him.

“Are you sure?” you asked, idly twirling a strand of your hair with your fingers.

“I am,” he replied instantly. "What's the issue here? We're married. We should have done this right from the start."

“Wouldn’t want you to burst from sheer embarrassment is all,” you quipped, successfully making him fidget. A smile tugged at your lips at his reaction.

"You could hardly even look at me," you added teasingly, and it seemed a vein on his face was on the verge of bursting.

“And you—”

You didn't have the opportunity to add more anecdotes to the list because suddenly your right arm was pulled, and before you could react, you found yourself cornered against the sofa.

"Well," Megumi's face was now inches from yours, his voice slow and laden with an indescribable intensity. His green eyes blinked, and suddenly, you found it hard to breathe. "Now, I'm looking at you, aren't I?"

What… is this situation? You could no longer think, and the only sound you heard was your uncontrollable heartbeats.

Even Megumi himself couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up on his face as he kept his hot gaze on you. When his cheeks began to feel as if they were sizzling and burning, much like the barbecue he had with Yuji the other night, he finally withdrew, moving away slowly. You took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, your heart still racing.

"Stupid, don't look so scared," he grumbled before tousling the top of your head, causing you to wince.

Now he had truly done it, hadn't he? He had made it glaringly obvious just how hopelessly infatuated he was, or at least he hoped he had conveyed it to you.

“I’m not scared…” You looked away shyly. “Megumi, you idiot.”

“Why am I the idiot? You’re the one being so clueless.”

In his eyes, you appeared so petite and vulnerable. The way you puckered your lips made him want to pin you to the wall.

It was unlike anything he had felt before. This urge to protect, make you happy, and ruin you at the same time was just too much.

But in the end, the first two always won.

"Okay, forget about it," he said afterwards, prompting you to look up. "We don't have to share a room if you're that uncomfortable about it."

“Uh, but—” now you were the one stammering. “No, it’s—okay…”

He raised an eyebrow, not understanding what you meant, so you took a gulp of breath, suppressing your embarrassment.

“Let’s sleep together from now on,” you declared. “In the same room, okay? I’m okay with it…”

“Really, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

A reminiscent of what he told you just two days ago. You couldn't forget how those three simple words made you feel, as if you were granted a fresh opportunity at life, despite the hardships you'd endured.

In the ensuing five seconds, you locked eyes and then erupted into a chorus of laughter.

“It’s so stupid, why is it so hard?” you sighed, smiling all the way. “We can’t be stuck at this stage forever.”

Megumi looked at your smile and, once again, tenderly placed his hand on your head.

“Yeah, we probably shouldn’t,” he muttered. “But even this is enough for me though.”

“What is?”

A gentle, weightless sensation filled his chest, a welcome relief after enduring two weeks of shared suffering. Seeing you no longer as tormented fueled his desire to to sustain that newfound happy expression on your face.

“Your smile,” he replied simply. “Just keep smiling. That’s all that matters.”

You swore you felt your heart leap out of your chest at his genuine words. But, damn you, you concealed your emotions the only way you knew how.

“Okay, so now you can’t deny it any longer,” you huffed in a playful condescending manner. “You’re positively smitten by me, correct, dear husband?”

A sheepish snort escaped from him. “Yeah, yeah, wife. I’m all yours.”

Megumi was eager to walk down this road with you from now on. It wouldn't be without its challenges, as there were still many things for you to tackle. Your mother’s murderer, Tsumiki’s curse, Zen’in’s mess. Through it all, he had you in his thoughts. And as for you...

You were content if this dream would last just a little bit longer.

next : love unspoken

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