#anyways this is probably one of the most emotional chapters of the series

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries • Oscar Piastri (PART TWO)

HERE IT IS! Part two! This time with smut, as promised <3 Hope you'll like the chapter! I hope i'll be able to post chapter 3 ASAP!

masterlist

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader (norris!reader) ↳word count: 3.8K ↳↳ parts: part one, part two(this one), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, Oscar finds himself grappling with unexpected feelings and rising tension, leaving him conflicted about how to handle his emotions

↳chapter warnings: reader is dared to give Oscar a lap dance during truth or dare, masturbation (Oscar), bestfriend!reader, sexual content, sexual tension, NSFW, 18+ content (mdni), brother's teammate trope (reader is lando's sister)

Almost a month has passed since your first race weekend as Oscar's physiotherapist, and you have to admit that you have had the time of your life. You love your new job and are absolutely thrilled to work in the field you've studied so hard for. The fact that you get to work closely with your best friend has had a very positive impact on your mental health. You can confidently say that you are in a great state of mind.

It was the weekend before Oscar's home race in Melbourne, the race of the year that Oscar always looked forward to the most, but also put the most pressure on the young Australian driver. He felt more need to perform well when it was in his home country. 

Several drivers and their girlfriends, who were part of your friend group, decided to arrive in Australia a week early to spend some off-track time together in a big house by the sea. The group included Lando, Oscar, Daniel, Max, George, Logan, Alex, and their girlfriends. Since you were good friends with them, you tagged along as well, even though you are a driver's sister and not a girlfriend. Though, sometimes, you wish you were a certain someone's girlfriend.

That said villa is where you were currently chilling on a lounger, sunglasses resting on your nose as you were deep into a conversation with Alex' girlfriend, Lily & Max's girlfriend, Kelly about what your plans would be during the moments off on race week when you felt your phone vibrate in the pockets on your shorts. 

You grabbed your phone and took your sunglasses of your nose to check in the message that you got. The moment you saw that it was a text from Oscar, you felt a smile grow on your face. 

Osc: Hi there! Look up :)

Looking up from your phone, you scanned your eyes around and across the pool you saw Oscar and Daniel standing, both with a beer in hand. You immediately locked eyes with Oscar, who raised his beer to gesture hello, flashing you his signature smile as well as a careful wink. 

Y/n: Hi x

"What are you smiling about?" Kelly asked cheekily, already onto something.

Lily replied in a chuckle, following your gaze, which landed on Oscar and Daniel "I think it has to do something with a certain Australian and his name is definitely not Daniel" 

You scoffed at Lily's comment "Yes, it was Oscar who texted me. But it's not what you think it is" you told them. 

"Y/n, I've known you for years. I can see the way you look at him, and he's doing the exact same thing. There's a reason people call him Oscar 'heart eyes' Piastri," Lily said, raking a hand through her hair. "It's all over social media, girl. They ship you two so hard that there are even edits going viral."

Your eyes widened a bit at Lily's words, surprised that it was supposedly all over social media. It was probably TikTok, a platform you’d been avoiding for multiple reasons. "He is not giving me heart eyes," you scoffed again, downing your cocktail in one go. "And besides, I don't see him like that. He's my best friend, and I don't have feelings for him anyway." Lies

Kelly giggled and rolled her eyes "Yeah, and Max sucks at formula 1" she joked "Do you believe yourself?"

You slumped down deeper into the lounge bed, covering your face with your hands "Fine, I might have a small crush on him" you confessed, feeling your cheeks starting to flush. 

"Small?" Lily raised her eyebrows, looking at your flushed state.

"FINE, I'm in love with him, happy now?" you whisper-yelled, making sure only Kelly and Lily could hear. "It's not like it matters anyway. I'm pretty sure he doesn't feel the same, and even if he did, I couldn't do anything about it."

Kelly took a sip of her cocktail, looking at you reassuringly. "First of all, I'm pretty sure he's constantly checking you out. Have you never noticed that?" As you shook your head, she continued, "But why wouldn't you be able to do anything about it?"

You let out a sigh of defeat "Well, for starters I'm pretty sure that Lando will kill both me and him. When I started getting closer with the boys on the grid, we made the rule I wouldn't date his teammates. It would make things way too complicated if anything went wrong" you explained, trying not to ramble "And second, I'm literally his physiotherapist now. It wouldn't be very ethical to date my client, would it? I know it's different in our case because we were best friends before I got the job, but it still feels unprofessional. And I'm pretty sure my boss wouldn't be delighted with that news either."

You shrugged and looked at your lap, staring at your phone with the conversation with Oscar still open. "But it's not relevant, because I know for a fact that he doesn't feel the same. I'm pretty sure I'm not even his type."

"Well, I'm pretty sure you definitely are on his radar. But I have no clue how to prove that t you" Lily said, a smile on her lips "And to be honest, I'm pretty sure that Lando would be fine with it if you were honestly so in love. I get what you mean regarding your job tho. It might make things complicated. But to be fair, if it's real love, then it should be worth the risk. Shouldn't it?"

Another vibration of your phone got your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was Oscar again, apparently he noticed the change of mood in you. So he was watching you from time to time, apparently

Osc: You feeling well? You look a little defeated. 

"Talking about the devil, aren't we?" Lily asks as she sits down beside me.

"Yup" you nodded, breathing in, trying to think of something you could reply 

Y/n: Yeah, peachy :) Just a little tired from the heat of the sun. Nothing to worry about, Osc 

Osc: Saw that your cocktail is empty, wanna make another one? I wanted to get a new beer as well, so we might as well go in together. You know, two birds with one stone

Y/n: Sure :)

"I'm gonna get a new cocktail, I'll be back in a bit" you stated with a kind smile as you stood up from the lounger, adjusting your shorts and making sure your bikini top looked presentable. 

After giving you a smile in return, Kelly leaned towards Lily. "You know, I might have a little plan to get some action going on between the two of them," she whispered sneakily, nodding towards Oscar and you.

Lily rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Oh god, what are you planning?"

"Well, you know how Alex suggested playing truth or dare tonight with drinks, right? Why not make it a little more interesting and have y/n do something to make Oscar a bit jealous? That might steer him in the right direction," she proposed.

"And what exactly do you have in mind?" Lily asked, not entirely sure if she found the idea very smart.

"We could always dare her to kiss Logan or something. They're good friends, and I'm pretty sure neither of them would mind since they've kissed before," Kelly started. "Besides, she's kissed Carlos during truth or dare before, so I know she's not too awkward for that during games."

"Hmm," Lily replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she took a breath. "I think I have a better plan." She proposed her idea, making Kelly's eyes light up in agreement.

Lily smiled back at her friend and shifted her gaze to her boyfriend. "Alex!" she called out a bit louder, her boyfriend immediately making his way over to the two girls.

"Okay, so we kinda have an idea. But you have to promise you won't tell anyone, okay?" Lily said.

•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•

Meanwhile Oscar and you were in the kitchen, deciding on what cocktail to make. Oscar was staring at the contents of the fridge, not sure what to grab. 

You walked your way over to Oscar, resting your chin on his shoulder, looking over it to see if the ingredients were there "We could make a sex on the beach?" you suggested calmly "I love the taste of those"

Oscar felt a jolt go down his spine at the feeling of your chin on his shoulder and your breath near his ear. The hairs on his neck standing up at the contact "I think we should be able to, we have all the ingredients here, I guess" 

You smiled happily "If you grab the ingredients, 'll go grab the shaker and a new straw" 

You stand side by side with Oscar, the kitchen counter filled with an assortment of colorful ingredients. The air is filled with laughter as Oscar playfully nudges you with his elbow. 

“Okay, so what should we start with?” he asks, eyes twinkling with excitement.

You grab a bottle of orange juice, and some cranberry juice. “How about starting with these? They’re essential for a Sex on the Beach cocktail.”

Oscar grins, grabbing the shaker and some ice. “Absolutely! And we definitely need to add a little bit of this,” he says, holding up a bottle of vodka.

As you pour the orange juice into the shaker, Oscar’s fingers brush yours, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He adds the vodka with a flourish, spilling a bit on the counter, which makes both of you burst into giggles.

“Oops! Guess I’m a little too enthusiastic,” he chuckles, wiping it up with a towel.

You add just the right amount of cranberry juice, then pass him the shaker. “Your turn, mix master.”

Oscar dramatically rolls up his sleeves and starts shaking the ingredients, his exaggerated seriousness making you laugh even harder. “I take my cocktail-making very seriously,” he says with a mock stern face.

After a few minutes of shaking and playful banter, the cocktail is finally ready. You both pour the mixture into two glasses, garnishing them with an orange slice and a cherry. You clink your glasses together, eyes meeting over the rim.

“To our masterpiece!” Oscar declares.

“To our masterpiece,” you echo, taking a sip. The flavors burst on your tongue, a perfect blend of sweet, tangy, and fruity.

“This is amazing!” you exclaim, and Oscar’s face lights up with pride.

“We make a pretty good team,” he says, his smile warm and genuine.

As you both enjoy your drinks, the kitchen filled with your laughter and shared triumph, you can’t help but feel the around vibe around you grow a little more intimate, one cocktail at a time.

•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•

As the evening progresses, you find yourself in the living room with the group, playing a lively game of truth or dare. The room is comfortably cluttered with friends lounging in various spots. A few are sprawled out on the carpet, laughing and leaning against each other. Others are perched on chairs, while a couple of people, including you, are settled on the couch.

The atmosphere is incredibly enjoyable, a mix of playful teasing and shared laughter. George and Alex, seated on the floor, have already kissed for a dare, much to everyone's amusement. Max, from his seat on a chair, had to chug an entire beer in one go, eliciting cheers and applause. Kelly, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, shared an embarrassing experience, her cheeks turning pink as everyone laughed with her.

You glance around, feeling a warm sense of camaraderie. The game has been going on for a while, and each turn brings new surprises and more laughter.

Here's a refined version of the passage:

"Okay, Oscar, your turn," Max said, casting a curious glance at the Australian.

Oscar met the Dutch driver's gaze. "I'll go with truth," he decided after a moment's thought.

"Hmmm," Max began, leaning forward. "What's your biggest turn-on?" he asked with confidence.

Oscar's eyes briefly flicked towards you before he refocused on Max. "Well... I'm really into teasing," he admitted, running a hand through his wavy hair. "I like building up the tension for the real stuff. But I also can't resist a sensual massage," he added with a slight grin.

Kelly, seated next to you, shot you a knowing smirk upon hearing Oscar's response. "Well, well, look at that," she whispered teasingly "I think you remember that.. You know, for work purposes" she added with a wink.

You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged her shoulder. "Shut up, will you" you retorted.

"Lily, truth or dare?" Oscar interjected. When Lily chose dare, he grinned mischievously. "I dare you to read the last sexual text you sent Alex out loud."

Lily blushed but giggled. "Alright, fine," she agreed, glancing at Alex apologetically. She scrolled through her phone until she found the message. "Well, I sent him a picture, which I'm definitely not showing here. But the text said, 'Say my name when you come for me,'" she read aloud.

The group erupted in cheers and playful whistles, teasingly congratulating Alex. "Damn, you've hit the jackpot with her," you joked, nudging Alex's arm. "Not only is she gorgeous, but she's got skills with sexting too."

"Hey, why do you think I'm always in such a good mood" he joked back at you.

After the laughing had died down a bit, Lily looked around the room, pretending to decide who she would choose. Which was of course not necessary, since it was time for the plan...

"Alright, y/n, truth or dare?" Lily's mischievous grin focused on you.

"Dare," you replied, trying to sound confident despite the butterflies in your stomach. When it came to Lily, you could never predict what she had in mind, during games like these. 

Lily exchanged a knowing look with Kelly before turning back to you. "I dare you to give Oscar a lap dance."

Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced at Oscar, who looked both surprised and flushed, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. 

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you stood up and walked towards Oscar, who watched you with a mix of anticipation and a hint of disbelief. The room fell into a hushed silence, everyone waiting to see your next move.

"You sure you're okay with this?" you asked him softly, a small smile directed to him "100%" he replied, a small smile joining the blush on his face.

You leaned towards him, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's okay" you reassured him, feeling his nerves radiate beside you. "I've got this."

You knelt down in front of Oscar, catching his gaze. "I hope you're ready for this, Osc" you whispered softly, your hand brushing his cheek gently. There it was again, the nickname, that goddamned nickname made him feel things that he shouldn't.

Oscar's eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat as you straddled him, feeling the warmth of his body beneath yours. Your movements were slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of the music playing softly in the background. Each sway and grind sent a shiver down Oscar's spine, and he struggled to contain the building desire that threatened to overwhelm him. 

As the dance continued, Oscar felt himself growing hard, his body reacting instinctively to your closeness and the intimacy of the moment. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to discreetly adjust his position to hide his predicament, but the effort was futile. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he prayed no one else noticed.

You could confidently state that you were very much enjoying the way you could feel his body betraying him. He's losing control and you knew it. The tightness in his jeans a clear indicator that his facade is crumbling to pieces. The calm and reserved Oscar Piastri, now a whimpering and flustered mess. It's almost like a challenge to you, trying to get him to snap.

He bit his lip, trying his hardest to hold back his moans, but occasionally a soft whimper escaped his lips, barely audible over the music. Only you could hear those little sounds, adding to the tension between you.

Finally, as the song came to an end, you leaned in close to Oscar's ear, your breath warm against his skin. "See? That wasn't so bad now, was it?" you murmured softly, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up and returning to your seat.

The room erupted into cheers and applause, everyone teasing and cheering for both of you. Oscar sat there, still slightly dazed but with a shy smile on his face, his admiration for you mixed with a feeling of desire that he couldn't quite shake. Stuck with the predicament in his trousers.

•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•

A few hours later, you found yourself laying on your bed, still thinking about the situation with Oscar. You wanted to check up on Oscar, wondering if he was not feeling awkward about it. His room was on the other side of the hallway, but you didn't wanna go there, since you were sure that everyone else was sleeping and you didn't want anyone waking up. But honestly, you wouldn't take the leap either if anyone was still awake, since you didn't want to give them the wrong impression. So you opted for a facetime call, something the two of you did very often when you weren't together. 

Oscar was currently laying in his bed as well, shirtless. Wearing nothing but his boxers. His once pale skin, now tanned from the sun, on display. He was in conflict with himself, he hadn't been able to get rid of the persisting hard on he had from the lap dance. He tried everything to get rid of it, from a cold shower, to thinking about the most disgusting things. Nothing seemed to help.  

"Screw it" he muttered softly as he moved glided his hand down his abdomen and inside of his boxers. His thoughts trailing back to the way your ass moved over hit clothed dick as he grabbed his member in his hand. He can't help but let out a small moan as he continues to work on himself, his hand moving in up and down strokes in a steady rhythm.

He can still imagine your lips on his cheek, it drives him absolutely wild. His breath is growing more and more erratic. Oscar imagines your small hands being the one to touch his dick "Oh god.. y/n.." he moans out softly, attempting to stay as quiet as possible. His heart racing with every filthy thought that raced through his mind, the feeling of his release already getting closer each stroke. 

His moment was cut short when he felt his phone vibrating on his night stand 'who would call him at this time?'  he wondered

he contemplated on ignoring the call, until he saw that it was you who was trying to call him. The slightest moan leaving his lips at the idea of hearing your voice. He took his phone from his nightstand, taking a deep breath before picking up. Hoping he could play of his flustered face to the alcohol he had consumed. 

"Hey Osc"he heard your voice echo through the phone, his hand still gliding over his cock, now in a slower and careful strokes. He tried to convince his brain to stop touching himself, but he simply couldn't, the sound of your voice too arousing.

"Hi" he mumbled softly, biting his lip to stiffle his moan. Oscar was rock hard and pre-come was already leaking from the tip. It was embarrassing at how close he already was.

You saw the flushed cheeks on his face, but didn't think much "I just wanted to check on you... I hope you I didn't make you uncomfortable earlier with the dare. I had no idea they were going to ask me to do that." you said softly, the soft vibrations of your voice immediately traveling to Oscar's throbbing dick. 

"Hey, it's okay" Oscar's expression softened, his eyes filled with warmth as he looked at your face on his screen "And to answer your question... yes, I did enjoy it." he replied, a small smirk growing on his face.

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, a mix of relief and something more flooding through you. "Really?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Yeah," Oscar nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Probably more than I should have." 

Oscar's fingers wrap tighter around the base of his cock, a whine threatening to escape when he starts to move his hand a little faster now. He tried his utter best to hide what he was doing during your call. He knew it was unethical, but he couldn't help himself. You made him so incredibly turned on that it almost hurt. He studies your face on his screen so intently, that he didn't even notice the moan and the soft 'fuck' that left his lips.

You felt a rush of emotions at his words, knowing there was something unspoken between you both. "I'm glad," you replied softly, unable to hide the smile that spread across your face.

"Good" he said, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper as he felt his release getting closer and closer. Oscar's breath was ragged now and heat clings to his arms, skin burning with want as he imagines your lips around his cock. He was so incredibly aroused, hot pressure rising in his dick. 

"Osc?" oh fuck, not that nickname again, pretty sure he would be able to cum with you saying his name like that over and over again.

He works over himself, hand shaking with every twist of his wrist and it’s getting him so close, he has to slow down a little "Yeah?" he pretty much moaned out. His attempt to hide the fact that he was jerking off, failing miserably.

Oscar was jerking himself desperately now, his hand moving a erratically. He was so incredibly close, another groan threatening to slip. Still completely unaware that you had already catched on to the fact that he was pleasuring himself, until he suddenly heard you speak up.

"Come for me, Osc" 

So he did. It didn't take long. Not even two desperate strokes later, his entire body started twitching and he felt a shock wave traveling through his body. The utmost erotic sound escaped his lips "Ah... fuck... y/n" he groaned as his release washed over him, his cum spilling all over his own hand and abdomen.

After the last wave had passed, Oscar tried to catch his breath, meanwhile carefully slowing down the rhythm of his movements "Fuck, that was so hot.." he breathed

previous part | next part

[hyewka]

or can u suggest any txt fic here (preferably the long ones w chapters) that u enjoyed?

sorry for the extremely extremely late reply but i’ll list some long fics + txt series’s that ive enjoyed with some comments attached to each one. spoiler alert, a completed txt series is pretty hard to find lol

series

lover = lo$er (sub!gyu, virgin fic)

it would be easy to just straight up recommend every @/wildernessuntothemselves series and i might just succumb to that later on but this is pure submissive beomgyu heaven, served as my first real awakening and i would probably attribute most of my sub gyu writing to this fic alone. 10/10, has a love triangle bit and beomgyus kind of insane

criminal conscience (dom!gyu, crime au)

on the other side of the spectrum, this is pussy clenching dom beomgyu goodness and i dont think it gets better than this. the writing is so compelling it fully immerses you in the narrative, even im getting sucked in to beomgyu’s manipulation (whats new really), blaring red flags and all. its currently on hiatus though but i would catch up either way beomiracles is a pretty consistent writer, she’d probably pick it up sooner or later :)

mosquito (soobin)

sorry this is going to be all over the place lol but this is also still ongoing (its only two parts in) but this writer is absolutely insane. narrative feels fleshed out and though it mainly follows soobin’s perspective and feelings, i am quite enjoying it so far. it has some idol x idol action as well, not the main focus of course but it is written in detail

one way (dom!beomgyu, themes of sadism)

this ones a three parter and its completed. by the same writer mentioned previously (soobrat), very very good storytelling, keeps you on your toes and has a hold on your emotions but like mentioned, it has a bit of an extremity in the smut and it is undeniably toxic but its good

sneaky link (dom yeonjun, the other woman trope)

i havent read this in a while but i remember staying up all night reading all of it lol. i would probably not recommend this to people who really cant read infidelity since thats what the fic is based around but it isnt cast in a very favorable light anyway. really toxic, seriously good

fuck you series (sub gyu, enemies to lovers, band au)

its really cute and the e2l set up is believable enough since theyre band rivals. beomgyu is so so so cute in this even if a little insufferable to mc lol. i would also recommend fairyofshampgyu’s now live series but its currently on an indefinite hiatus (its sooo good as well though so if youre willing, you should check it out)

nabi (best friends to lovers beomgyu, no smut)

two parts in, not completed but im following it currently and god i love them together their dynamic is soooo fun to read, you wont get bored

jerk! (enemies to lovers, beomgyu fic, no smut)

its another band au and its also ongoing. there isnt a consistent update schedule so that might be a minus but the most recent chapter was from a month ago so its safe to say it hasnt been left in the dust (thank god). very very good writing, excited to see how their relationship takes off

bullying choi soobin (sub soobin)

submissive soobin and its good, of course im recommending this. its finished and a 4 parter

sugar (dom!yeonjun, dom!gyu)

unfortunately probably forever incomplete but i love it and i might actually go back to reading it for the third time

let me into your world (non smut beomgyu series)

i havent read a soulmate premise in sooo long so this was refreshing to read, good stuff

supermodel (dom gyu and sub i believe)

its just. Amazing. a two parter but a goodie

the city that never sleeps (bsf smut)

also two parts but both parts are pretty long, really good stuff

ok for the life of me i cannot find this one huening series where he was getting bullied by reader and they were secretly fucking?? that one was literally perfect submissive men shit so if you find it if youve struck gold

long full fics (6k+)

telepathy (fantasy, dom!gyu)

a little out of the box compared to all the fics ive recommended so far and thats what makes it so special and good

duality (dom!kai)

i actually havent read this one yet but i will soon, i just thought id add it here anyway since i know ill love it

killer instinct (taehyun fic)

very plot heavy and it centers taehyun mainly. i could go ahead and cheat and just list out every single koqabear fic lmao but this ones a gem, very happy i set aside the time to read it

the redemption of choi yeonjun (dom!yj)

im not personally a fan of the trope but when it was originally teased the smut sounded heavenly and honestly, it is. such a good dom yeonjun here but beware hes a little (a lot) mean lol. he changes by the end

like cat and mouse! (sub gyu, inexperienced)

again, worth the reading time investment. i love submissive gyu, he is everything here and more

love love love (sub gyu, royal au)

i have probably read this a total of 30 times

i hate you (enemy!beomgyu, dom beomgyu)

ok sorry im cheating here a bit this isnt long but its so good you should check it out anyway

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Gotta be a moron to wanna be a fighter

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

Warning: Drinking, sex references

AN: Thank you for being so patient, this chapter has been a long time in the making 💕 Everyone's lovely comments and beautiful art have been giving me LIFE so thank you so much for continuing on with me! Also after this chapter there will be a Chapter 5.5 so to speak that will essentially just be filth without plot so people that read the series for fluff don't need to read it 😇 and people that want more will be indulged 😈 Enjoy! x

Part 5 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

It was stupid, you were both aware of it. You’d get in trouble and be marked for life as liabilities if anyone found out, if even so much as one person saw you both and reported it back to Price. Reality was though, that neither of you could bear the thought of ending things. Sprinkle in a little hubris and it was a recipe for thinking you were above it all.

You felt secure in your hiding spot, shrouded in the bodies of the oblivious people around you, protected by the roar of the ramping conversations. Though, when it came down to it, it was more like you were the oblivious ones. All cuddled up close and murmuring to each other through an exchange of soft kisses and sweet promises that you could only hope were more than a shared dream. 

You’d leaned as far off the stool as you could, magnetised to him. Body brushing up against König every chance that you could get, running your fingers along his scar torn arm, blinking syrupy slowly up at him and simpering like an idiot. It felt like catching snowflakes in the winter. It felt like König would disappear at any moment, the dream would shatter and he’d fade away and so you had to cling to him like an anchor to keep him in place. 

You’d never felt so needy before. Especially not for someone that you held so much tension with, so much mixed emotion. Even under it all, under the whole whimsy of making plans and talking about booking quiet hotels out in the sticks, letting your heads float in the clouds, you could feel the heavy weight of the words you’d yet to let goof. What remained from that night when things had gone wrong.

No matter how much you’d thought about it, you struggled to come to a clear conclusion in your head. A way to navigate past it all - the shifting sands of your feelings. On the one hand some of it still disturbed you and gnawed at the edges of your mind and on the other, you couldn't bring yourself to think that you were much better, that you had the right to criticise him. 

You hated to think of him holding onto it all and internalising the words you’d spat out in a moment of panic. You’d made him out to be a monster while your hands were just as bloody as his, you’d acted as if yours dripped righteously because you’d killed your quarries quickly. It was hardly fair - though none of the situation really was.

That’s how you found yourself struggling to speak when König had finally taken the helm and steered you out of calm waters. He wasn’t going to let things go on without some assurance, he needed something from you. Needed to know it wasn’t going to fall apart. 

“Almost sounds like a fantasy doesn’t it?” König said, gazing up from his drink and back to you.

“What? Getting some time away together?”

“Mhmm,” he mused.

“We could do it you know,” you smiled. “I…actually really want this.”

He regarded you for a moment with a tilt of his head, his sculpted face set in a stony marble contemplation. He looked like he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t open his mouth past a small pout. He was trapped in silence until he finally took a breath and smiled weakly. 

“If we really were to do it…if we really did plan a trip together, spend the weekend away, then I need you to be honest with me. You have to tell me how you really feel about what happened.”

Now it was your turn to pause. You knew where this was going - it was inevitable. You just wished that it wasn’t and you could remain suspended in your little bubble for the rest of time, cuddled up and without a care. Even when you knew that would have been selfish, because it was easier for you to forget what happened, easier for the person that caused the hurt to move past it. 

Realistically you were never going to do that to him. Responsibility weighed heavy and it wouldn’t just disappear, you had to take a hold of it and tell König how you really felt. The only way over was through. You just had to hope that he’d have the same view on it all, that he would want to work with you on it. 

“You have to understand,” he said quietly, speaking again before you could settle on the right words, “you are the first person that I’ve had feelings for in a very long time. When you told me the other night that you thought I was acting with you, that i was this- this monster of a person, and pretending I cared, it really hurt me. Even despite the kiss we shared that night, and the things we’ve talked about even now…I need to know that you won’t run from me again. I can’t stand the thought of us taking things further and you turning your back on me because there’s a repeat of what happened - it would break me this time.”

It would break me this time.

It was like an icy wave rising out of the depths and drowning you. The cold hard realisation that you’d had more of an effect than you’d realised. König now worried - even after you telling him that you missed him more than anything - that you’d leave him just like that. Even when that was impossible. You’d agreed to meet him even after all that had happened for gods sakes, you were risking your career for him, you were ready to face Price’s wrath just for the chance to see him again and make up for everything. You weren’t giving him up.

“I don’t think you’re a monster König, I never did - even when I said all those things to you… but it’s like I said earlier, my mind isn’t completely clear on it all. There’s still things about that night that make me uncomfortable, I still don’t like picturing you doing things like that and- and well…the laughing - that still gets me,” you said with a sigh, trying your hardest not to break eye contact. “But no matter what though, no matter what has happened and what will happen - I know that I want to work through it with you. I don’t want to run, I want to be right here. I want you to trust me. I know that I fucked up telling you that I thought that badly of you and I know it’ll take some time for you to feel like you’re secure, but we can both reassure each other, yeah? We can navigate through it together because- well because it’s like you said. You have feelings for me and I- uh- I…care about you too, so so much. So much. I won’t let anything get in the way of that.” 

His face was a melting pot of emotion. The curve of his lips wobbled between a grimace and a small smile and his jaw kept clenching and unclenching as he processed what you said. He turned the words over in his mind for a minute, his face giving nothing away as he zoned out into the middle distance, transfixed on the rainbow array of bottles behind the bar. 

“So how do we move past it?” he breathed.

“I suppose we just try to talk about it more…I’m not sure it's something I’ll immediately forget about, but then I guess you won’t just forget about what I did either,” you mumbled. “We can learn from each other though, and understand each other’s perspectives. Like I said before, we can work through it all. If you want to.”

He nodded and studied the bar again, thinking deeply for a second. König’s face still didn’t betray anything, he was so good at wearing masks he barely needed the cloth to cover what he thought. His hard jaw was set and his pale blue eyes were haunting a deep space far from where you both sat. 

It was only when he finally grabbed your hand again, when he wove his work beaten fingers through yours that you knew it would be ok. You knew that he wanted this just as much as you, no matter what. He barely even had to say it, but he did, the words like honeysuckle petals softly tickling at your ears. 

“Yes, I think that you’re right. We can do this together,” he murmured, gripping your hand tightly. “You and I will make this work any way that we can. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before and I won’t give you up for anything, not for Price, not for Ghost, not for the world. You’re mine…and I will do anything to keep it that way.”

-☠️-

Barely a week after that night, you found yourself checking into a quaint little hotel in the middle of nowhere, attempting to ignore the Price shaped shadow that stained your peripheral vision. You’d packed yourself into the car and driven off with your hold all, not stopping to look back. It almost felt like you were going back to base again, as if you’d taken on another mission and you were going through the motions, that helped for most of the journey. 

It was only when the car had crunched into the gravely drive that it finally sank in that you were really going to meet König. There wasn’t going to be any interruptions or distractions, you didn’t have to silently walk past him in the hallways and feel your chest sink knowing that you couldn’t acknowledge him. It was just you and him, unfettered by rules and boundaries. 

In the mouth of the hotel reception, you’d muttered out your details to the stuffy looking woman behind the desk. She’d given you the same feeling some people must have when checking into a prison sentence. She clicked over to you in her perfectly pressed grey jacket and skirt and demanded to know if you had a booking. Her eyes roved over you, her lips pinching together when she asked why you were visiting, and you said you were just taking a trip away with a friend. She didn’t seem to like that very much. Her papery worn hand had stopped scratching down your details in her book, then she’d proceeded to continue again after a brief but unmistakable sigh. 

She was onto you. She didn’t even know you, but even she knew you were up to no good. Her beady eyes certainly betrayed her as they narrowed behind her thin gold framed glasses.

The Captain Price in your mind took on a more solid shape, made your hand shake and jingle the keys that you’d been given. What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Sergeant? You had no idea what you were doing, reason had been abandoned for a far more attractive proposition. It was only there at the desk that you realised the full weight of your decision, trying to stay calm in front of the glaring figure before you. 

You’d only gotten to leave after being strictly warned that you weren’t to disturb the other guests ‘should you and your friend spend much time in each other's rooms’. You’d nodded with a thick gulp and attempted to smile as you slunk away from her, dreaming up that she was on the phone to Price just as you were out of sight.

You were being ridiculous. 

You sighed and trailed your eyes along the yellowing floral wallpaper as you passed it, laughing softly as you realised how paranoid you were being. It was no use worrying about Price now, you’d already committed to the trip, so why torture yourself with seeing him in every nook and corner? With that in mind you walked a little more confidently across the soft pink carpet, eventually making your ascent up the groaning old stairs, keeping yourself focused on not tripping up on the runner rods. One step at a time, soldier, you’ll need those legs to lean on when you’re scrubbing toilets. 

The room you’d ended up in was exactly as you’d pictured it after seeing the rest of the hotel. It was as if you’d stepped into the past, something straight from the 1920’s with its old decor and unplaceable draft that permeated throughout the room like it was an extra feature. 

The bed looked older than you. The kind that would squeal and shout traitorously at every little movement you’d make and was topped with lacy white sheets complete with multi coloured floral quilt - it clashed with the wallpaper of course. Though it worked with the equally ugly rug in the centre of the room, mangled and worn with age, reaching out its frayed tendrils; almost touching the little desk off to the side and the wardrobe next to it. The bathroom wasn't much better either, all avocado coloured porcelain and tiny enough to accommodate a hobbit and not much more. 

It made you wonder how König was going to cope, his almost seven foot frame was going to be like something from Alice in Wonderland. You smirked at the thought and tossed your hold all on the bed, freeing your hand up so that you could fish out your phone and text the number you kept under - mother. Your Latest act of subterfuge. A way to receive messages from König without being found out. You really did feel like a kid again. 

You

You’re gonna love this place, big guy ;) 

Mother

Any more back chat about my choice and you can go another week without me

You

I’m JUST saying…it’s tiny to *me* so take that as you will 

Mother

Size isn’t everything dear ;) 

You

You’re so fuckin lame dude 

Mother

Is that any way to talk to your mother?

You found yourself cackling at his response and clamped your hand over your mouth, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself already. The old harpy downstairs probably already thought you were both having a secret affair or something, the last thing you needed was to draw more of her ire. It wasn’t like you could go and explain to her that neither of you was spurning a partner back home, and that you were actually hiding from your Captain turned father. So really it was totally fine for you both to be sneaking around in the countryside together!

She didn’t seem like the type that would like that explanation either anyway. 

No. Reality was, you were part of one of the most elite task forces in the world, and there you were hovering above a frilly old bed about to wait for your crush coming home like a propaganda poster. When will my would-be forbidden boyfriend return from Austria? You snorted at the thought and dove into your bag, rustling around in search of your tablet. Things were bad enough without you waiting at the window with your metaphorical tail stuck in alert position - excited for König and fearful of Price and the paranoid possibility of him having a tracker on you both. 

Fuck that. You watched TV and tuned out the tinfoil hat thoughts as best as you could manage.

You didn’t have to wait long in the end anyway, not if you were honest with yourself. König had announced his arrival with a thud and an ‘ow, oida!’ and immediately you knew your man had arrived. It seemed unlikely anyone else would be in the corridor, you assumed, banging their head and shouting in German. 

Wouldn’t you know it, once you’d poked your head out of the parapet of your room door, you’d laid your eyes straight on him. You emerged from your hiding place and watched as König rubbed his head and looked at the doorway like he’d square up to it. A tiny laugh escaped before you could cover it up when you realised you’d been right all along; the place was far too small for him. 

Though he’d never admit to it - that you were sure of. He’d be folding himself in half before he’d admit to being wrong. You’d figured that out when you’d originally questioned his choice in hotel and destination. It screamed home for the geriatric: spend your last years here together, but he wouldn’t hear of it. König had been absolutely adamant he wanted a little old fashioned place out in the countryside, said it was good to stay out of the way of everyone and grant yourselves some privacy, height restrictions be damned. 

“Having trouble there, handsome?” You smirked, looking him up and down appreciatively. 

He whirled around and faced you, eyes going wide as he realised you’d been watching him. Almost instantly you were admiring him, trailing your eyes over his outfit and his perfectly exposed face. 

König was wearing his neck warmer much like usual, though it had been drawn down around his neck - likely to accommodate the nosy old gal downstairs. It fit well enough with the rest of his outfit, tan brown work jacket, white shirt and beat up jeans and boots, but it looked a little odd in the warmer weather. You could only imagine how suspicious she’d been of him, masked up and german, likely two marks against his name. She’d be calling the authorities on you in no time, the neighbourhood watch would be descending down on you from their helicopters if you misstepped even slightly.  

“I’m doing just fine, thank you,” König sniffed, leaning his arm up against the top of the doorframe.

“Really? Sure you don’t need a lil pillow or something to strap to your head? Would be a shame if you came back from your time off with brain damage,” you giggled. 

“Maybe I’ll avoid it by leaving early then shall I?” he teased, narrowing his eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, you know you can’t resist all this” you smirked, tilting your chin. “Besides, it must’ve taken ages to get that big head of yours through the front door, you can’t possibly want to leave already!”

Ignoring the string of muttered German that followed your comment, you closed the gap between you both. Before you could chicken out, you put your arms around him, embracing his big warm body like an oversized plush. König’s muscles tensed at first, reacting like you’d tased him, but he quickly relaxed, letting his own encompass your body before he kissed the top of your head and turned your mind rosy. You could swear you saw blushes of pink cross your vision, eyes clouding while your head went fuzzy.

“Missed you,” you whispered, nuzzling into his chest. “Again.”

“Mhmm, I’d say I did too, but you’ve been so condescending with me,” he murmured, descending into laughter when he caught you glaring up at him. 

“Don’t be mean!”

“Alright, alright. I missed you too! Of course I did,” he relented. “Though I think you should be nicer to me, you did make me sacrifice going back to Austria after all.”

He sighed dramatically and suddenly it was your turn to roll your eyes. He’d been trying everything to get you to go to him, but for you it was no dice. The absolute last thing you needed was for Price to see the big Austrian stamp in your passport and turn the national colours in fury. The thought alone was enough to have you going wide eyed and stiff. 

“Well I suppose I can be nicer,” you grinned, reluctantly pulling away from him. “We have got two days together, so I’ll have to convince you to stick around somehow.”

“Two whole days, my my,” he said with raised brows. “What are we gonna do with all that time?”

“For starters - hang out without a paparazzi of base personnel waiting to report on the gossip.”

“Not that that will stop them talking. I caught MacTavish over my shoulder trying to get a look at my phone the other day,” he said, shaking his head.

“Really? Did he say anything to you?” You asked, concerned that you’d have to tell him to knock it off somehow without being figured out.

“I stared back at him and he almost died of fright when he finally looked back at me,” he chuckled, his evil laugh making an appearance. “Didn’t stick around long after that.”

“For fucks sake, Soap,” you snorted. “That man’s about as subtle as a canon. Stupid prick.”

“Well what else can you expect from the 141?” König teased, preemptively retreating backwards toward his open doorway. 

“Oh, you think you’re a big man firing insults then running away do you?” You asked, folding your arms across yourself. 

“Sneaky, please - Im a very big man,” he tittered, cocking a finger gun at you as he disappeared with his oversized rucksack. “I’ll come over to your room in a minute!” 

Your earlier assessment was true enough - he was fucking lame. But nevertheless he was the man that you were risking it all for.

“Good luck getting in!” You called, retreating back to yours.

Not that it’d actually be a challenge. You’d gone as far as to ignore a direct order from Price, ignored your own wavering doubts about the darkness that he was capable of and you’d driven five hours just to see him. When it came to König you were a goner. And it was only getting clearer with time. 

-☠️-

König had indeed managed to worm his way back into your presence, no matter how much you tried to joke that you were barricading yourself in your room. However, with the promise of a scenic walking route and pub food courtesy of him, you found it in your heart to forgive his earlier comment, giving him a stern look on your way out. He was only forgiven by a slim margin you’d told him. 

However as you’d set out and begun to stretch your legs and ease out the travelling aches, you found yourself more and more surprised by how much you were enjoying yourself. The air had cleared and something in the knots of your stomach had come undone. You were Shocked that you were able to forget all about Price, all about the hazards of being together. As if work were just something from a persona that you’d shed. All responsibility and worries scattered in the breeze that shook the tall grass. 

It was easy to share his company too. It didn’t feel awkward or like you had to say anything at any particular time. It was natural, just like it was before, when you could talk to him without the threat of Price giving you the sack. Though it struck you like a slap to the face when you realised that it was one of the few rare moments you’d had to talk to each other without being a spectacle, without people watching and commenting. No Soap to tease you about it, no Ghost to pass his judgmental gaze over you both. 

That was what made it truly special, it was something just for you both. The place itself turned out to be pretty special too, it was lovely. You had to give König that - even if his hotel was haunted by its judgmental keeper. 

The trail was fairly flat, and took you through fields and backroads with only a few sloping hills here and there with plenty of streams that babbled in the backgrounds of your conversations. Eventually you’d come to a little bridge and stopped to take in the view, looking out over the cold spray of the miniature waterfall tumbling down into the river below and past the mossy banks. It rollled down the yellow-green expanse, snaking off somewhere way out to the horizon line. 

It was both a noisy, but pretty backdrop that allowed you to get plenty of sly glances in while König was distracted. Your eyes had been tracing his profile like you were trying to paint him. He’d caught you no doubt, the smile that played on his lips told you that much, but he hadn’t made any attempt to stop you looking. He kept staring at the water and had let the quiet lull in your earlier chat remain still. 

“I’ve always wondered…do you stare at lots of people like this? Or am I special?”

You blinked back at him and felt blood pool in your cheeks, racing with the rushing water. 

“Who says I’m staring at you,” you murmured, leaning against the worn wooden railing. “There’s actually a very nice tree that I’ve been admiring.”

“Oh a nice tree, hmm? I must say, I’ve been compared to a tree many times, but not an awful lot of people call me nice,” he mused, teasingly nudging your shoulder. 

“Just me and your mother?” you smirked, firing a shot back at him. 

He widened his eyes and tilted his head like a puppy, putting his hand on his chest as if he were pulling the spear you’d buried there out of himself.

“I can’t believe you’re bringing my mother into this!”

“Well, I assume she thinks you’re nice…Sure sounds like it anyway,” you said with a coy smile.

“And by that you mean…?” he asked, eyes narrowing on you. 

Your throat could’ve gone dry from the heat in König’s eyes and suddenly his intense gaze felt all too similar to the shake of a rattlesnake's tail. Had you been trying to insult him, you’d have let it die on your lips, but it wasn’t what you were thinking of doing at all. What little you knew of his past, you knew that wasn’t the sort of thing that would go down very well.

“I mean that - judging by the way you sound on the phone to her - she likes to dote on her little precious baby König,” you said with a smirk, “I can always tell when you’re on the phone to her.”

The lit fuse was snuffed out in an instant, and the look in his eyes faded from a warning and into a question. He paused a moment before he spoke again. 

“I don’t know whether to be more perturbed that you’ve been listening in on my calls, or if I’m much more interested in finding out how you can tell.”

“I haven’t been listening to your calls! You always answer your phone in front of everyone because we’re all ‘savage’ non German speakers,” you laughed, finally returning the nudge he’d given you earlier. “You make it sound like Price has me spying on you!” 

“Maybe he does,” he chuckled dryly, turning to you now. “Maybe you’re perfectly fluent in German and you’re an excellent double agent.”

“Damn it, you’ve caught me! I better tell the guys to come out of the bushes now. Quick Price, get down from that tree before you fall out of it,” you laughed in return, calling out to the fake 141 like they’d really come free from their hiding spots. 

König shook his head at you saying something about you being silly under his breath, and turned back to the water again. His body shook the fence with his weight coming to rest on it, one arm propped up so that he could reach up and hold his face in one hand, clearly not used to having it bare as he subconsciously stroked the spot where his neckwarmer would come to. He looked distant for a second, only a fleeting moment, until he swivelled his head back to you and looked at you curiously, raising his brow. 

“What is it that makes you say my mother dotes?” he finally asked, giving you a small smile. “If you really are the uncivilised non-german speaker that you claim to be.”

“First of all - you’re so rude. Secondly, its how you talk when you’re on the phone to her, even if it is in German,” you said pointedly. “Your voice always goes all soft and quiet and reassuring like you’re always trying to soothe her…Oh! And you do that thing where you answer all gentle like - ‘hallo, mama’.”

König bit his lip and held back the smile that tried to burst loose. 

“Is that really how I sound to you? Like I’m greeting a dying animal? I can’t imagine that’s very attractive.”

“It’s not like that! Your voice goes all sweet and cute,” you replied defensively, sidling up against him.

“Sweet and cute? Niemals! I am not sweet, nor cute,” he huffed, staring you down and rising to his full height. 

“You’re very sweet and cute, actually,” you huff, giving his cheek a rub before you can think twice. 

Suddenly you’re trapped between the railing and König, the wood creaking out in protest. His heavy chest trapped you fast against him and his arms locked on either side of you, straining as his hands grasped the wood tightly. His hair had fallen over his face and shadowed his eyes, giving them a menacing glint as he continued to look down at you. 

“Am I still sweet and cute?” he whispered lowly. 

You felt your face burn and your breath shudder. Tremors wracked their way through your legs and you fought to stay on level ground as he forced you down. He wasn’t being either of the aforementioned things you’d said, but he wasn’t being very scary either…

“I’m not scared of you König,” you murmured, breaking the tension and tucking back a rogue strand of his hair. “I still think you’re very sweet.”

He rolled his eyes, sighing down at you like a weary god.

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” You grinned. “You’re sweet to me all the time! Always making sure I have my tea and get to watch my movies even when you’re fidgeting like hell. You booked this hotel just so that we could spend time together without being in trouble at work. You watch out for me, you make me feel safe. You’re so sweet.” 

He sighed again.

“Ugh, very well then…I  suppose if you really enjoy the whole cute thing I should lean into it more, hm?” he said, a smile slowly creeping across his face. “What do you think, my precious angel? You want me to be sickly sweet with you now? Hm? My Schnuckiputzi? Schnuckiputzihasimausieerdbeertörtchen, my-”

König’s voice purred sweet and high pitched, sounding several levels of unfamiliar as he kept you smushed against the fence with his hand locked to your jaw. His lip jutted out thickly and his eyes went dopey, talking to you like you were a little kitten that he was trying to charm into his lap. It was too much for you, you were overcome with laughter and crying out as he kept up his assault, only pausing when you tried to cover his mouth with your flailing hand. 

“Oh my god, you have to stop,” you wheezed, pushing against him. “No more!

“But I’ve barely even started, Schmusebär! I could go on forever,” he laughed, voice muffled by your grasp on him.

“No, please, it’s too much!” you protested.

“Oh, so you’ve had enough? You don’t like the cute thing anymore?”

“I like when you’re cute like you, not cute like that! That’s gross,” you giggled, giving him a playful shove.

“Ok, ok! I’ll dial it back. Anything for my sweet little flower.”

You’d given him a warning look, but he didn’t look in the least bit intimidated - one of the hazards of going out with a guy built like König, he wasn’t going to be scared off by you. Although, you supposed that might’ve been a good thing too. 

At the very least he’d stopped after that and you’d enjoyed the rest of the walk in peace. Both of you had become transfixed by the sprawling deer-filled fields and the birds that flew in perfect formations shrieking above your heads. They clouded the skies and brought with them a cold wind that had begun to bite through your clothes and had you leaning into König. Your body brushed against his one time too many and eventually he just rolled his eyes and took your hand in his, firmly dragging you closer so that you could absorb his warmth. It had your heart stuttering for a few beats, still in disbelief that you were really there with him. 

-☠️-

After the walk you’d both found a place for dinner, a pub that seemed to have the same interior decorator as your hotel by the looks of it. It had the potential to be trendy with its exposed brick and old iron fireplace, though it was covered in doilies and old horrible paintings and florals - much the same as the hotel. 

Despite the gross decor, the food was delicious and the drink even more so after your long winding walk. König had ordered himself a feast, getting a steak pie, chips and mac and cheese, claiming that anything else would have him starving later on. Meanwhile you’d sat with an amazed look as you took slow bites of your burger; watching him devour all his. 

“You think that I just got to this size by magic?” he’d asked, taking a big gulp of his beer. “It takes a lot to maintain this.”

“I’m not judging, I’m just amazed that you’re actually eating all that,” you’d noted, reaching across the table to steal a bit of mac and cheese. 

“Hey! You didn’t ask if you could have any.”

“Well that’s what you get for going to dinner with someone called Sneak,” you’d chastised.

He’d made a joke about sneaking out and letting you pay for it all, but even after that you’d both melted into the warmth of the fireplace and ordered a few more beers; feeling pleasantly tipsy by the time you had decided to pay. 

The wallpaper was growing fuzzy as you’d stared ahead at it and the patterns that had been so clearly defined before were getting lost in the dim light. Your eyes flicked between the swirling shapes and staring over at König, getting lost in the features of his shadowed face, listening out to the consistent rattle of the table as König’s leg gently bounced. Your mind felt hazy, your thoughts danced like the flames reflecting throughout the room, intermingling with the tingles at the back of your skull.

I want to touch him.

I want to trace those scars, I want to feel the curve of his nose and hold his chin in my palm.

I want to hold him, I want to sit in his lap. 

I want all of him.

“Is someone a little bit of a lightweight?” he’d teased, noticing the way your eyes drooped. 

Your mouth dropped open for a second, feeling heavy as an anvil until you were able to shake yourself out of it. Everything was still fuzzy, your body felt light as a feather and cumbersome all at once. How is he able to talk in full sentences? It hadn’t occurred to you that him being almost twice your size might affect his tolerance, making it far superior to yours. 

“Not a lightweight,” you grouched, “Just- just sleepy.”

“Mhmm, I noticed that too, Bierleiche” he laughed, the sound booming rich as pure vanilla in your ears. 

“No more names!” you pouted.

“Alright, I won’t call you any more names, but I won’t buy you any more beer either. Let’s get you back.”

You’d protested at this, not really all that passionate about getting to sit up in the stiflingly warm little stoop, but not wanting to part from him quite yet. You knew for a fact that he’d be a gentleman and try to leave you and frankly, you weren’t in the mood for it. You weren’t in the mood for that at all.

However, even despite your moaning and grousing, König got you to your feet and held you up against him until he got you to the hotel. Your feet had marched noisily down the street and you’d loudly commented on the pretty stars in the sky on the way over, but as soon as you’d reached that front door it was like an instinct had flared up inside your body and you were quiet as a mouse. Even drunk, you knew not to bother the old crone that surely waited in the shadows, looking for any excuse to jump out at you.

It wasn’t until you were safely in your room, where König was depositing your flailing body into bed that you finally reneged on your vow of silence. He’d turned to leave, his hand coming down on the door handle and reminding you of a judge's gavel ready to end your time with him. You whined, scrabbling at the sheets so that you could sit up and called out to him. 

“König! You can’t go.”

“I think you’ll find that I can,” he’d snorted, tossing you a measured look.

“But, I don’t want you to,” you moaned, patting the bed next to you.

“I thought you were sleepy.”

“I was! Then we w-walked through the cold and it woke me up a bit,” you shrugged, hiccuping through the middle of your sentence. 

He sighed and tilted his head, seeming to arrive at a fork in the road. Knowing this was the case, even with your addled mind, you pulled the covers back and patted the spot next to you, doing your best to try an angelic smile. Although, it couldn’t have been half as sweet as you’d wanted it to be with your glazed over eyes and dopey grin. 

“I’m not going to do anything with you like this.”

You gasped, clutching at your neck as if there were pearls there to grasp onto.

“I’m shocked that you would incuse me of something like that!”

“Incuse?” he chuckled, letting go of the door handle.

Victory was yours. 

“I just want you to come cuddle with me for a minute,” you clarified.

He narrowed his eyes, folding his arms over his broad chest like he could scare the truth out of you. Though you were full of liquid confidence and it didn’t matter what he did, you just wanted to feel him close and have his warm body next to yours. You needed to have him for all the time that you could, grabbing onto every little moment.

“If I come over there I don’t want any funny business,” he warned. 

A light could’ve buzzed above your head, the pretend halo that you tried to manifest lighting up the room before him. 

“Cross my heart, no funny business,” you simpered.

He laughed at that and finally came over to you, shucking off his boots after you’d grumbled about shoes on the bed. He let you fold over onto him, curling up like a croissant in his arms and settling easily into your nook between his arm and chest.

Even in your clouded mind, the moment was etching itself into your core memory. The smell of hops and cold fresh air, the feel of his big arms wrapped around your body, the softness of his chest and the cotton T-shirt he wore, the feel of his zip scraping your fingers as you carelessly moved your hand to his sternum. It all compounded, had you feeling like you were in a dream, the fuzziness of your head trying to tell you that’s all it was.

“This is real isn’t it?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you put a little pressure on his chest, testing to make sure it really was him. 

“Did you take shots while I was in the toilet or something?” he laughed, bouncing your head with the force of it through his body. 

“No! It’s that - I just - I can’t believe we’re really here. It’s like you said before - It’s like a dream. And we made it come true.”

He was quiet for a second and tentatively placed his hand on the back of your head, running it over your hair and down your back. The motion completely distracted you from his silence, calming you completely and making you feel as cosy as a lap dog. Suddenly the tiredness was simmering back through your body, melting you like butter. 

“I’m happy too,” he finally said, his voice wavering a little. “Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

“Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asked, laughing fondly.

You shrugged with what little movement you could muster, pasted to König’s side, and bit your lip. It’s not like you wanted to lie there in a moment of pity and self deprecate, but you hadn’t had the easiest time of it together at that point. You were surprised that he was able to say that it was one of the happiest times of his life.

“Things have been hard. I guess I’m still just shocked that you’ve made such an effort to be with me. It probably would’ve been easier to pick up some someone back home and live a nice little un- umconplimicated life with them,” you said, struggling to even wrap your mouth around the word. 

Your head rattled as König’s chest bounced again, his chuckle echoing out across the room. It had you burying your burning face deeper into him, trying all you could to be able to hide your complete embarrassment. You’d prayed that it wouldn’t make him leave, make him think you were too away with it to continue on with the conversation. 

However, by that point König was quite tired too. His inhibitions were lowered and he wasn’t in the mindset to leave you alone. Instead he just rubbed your back reassuringly and sighed out the last remnants of his stolen breaths, before his body regulated and his chest rose steadily and surely again. 

“If I’d ever been capable of something like that I’m sure I would’ve tried it a while ago,” he finally said.

You frowned and, now that you were composed, swivelled your head so that you could see his face. Your eyes veered away from their place on his chest and landed straight on him, straining to see the distant look in his eyes. You bit you lip. 

“How not capable?” you murmured, still battling with recalling how to speak. 

“You remember when you first tried to talk to me surely?” he smirked, absentmindedly stroking your hair. 

“I remember…you were all grumpy, didn’t wanna talk,” you smiled, blinking slowly up at him. 

“I was just so surprised that you were talking to me, I didn’t have anything to say back. It took me off guard that I didn’t have to put on any kind of a front for you to approach. That’s usually how it goes for other people - no one comes to me unless I start pretending, unless I stop being myself, unless I make myself smaller and superficial. It’s exhausting, and I can’t maintain it for very long.”

“But then you offered to make me tea,” you reminded him, face feeling bright with the memory. “You were nice - next time I saw you.”

“I promised myself that if I saw you in the kitchen again that I would make up for appearing so rude. Then you got flustered and stared at me alot, and acted ridiculously cute and forced me to watch Rocky; so now, because you charmed me, here we are. I’m doomed to do your bidding, doomed to follow you t-”

“Hey!”

You batted his chest and did your best to sit up, clambering up his body, huffing and puffing until you were face level with the summit of him. 

“I did not force you!”

“You gave me an order,” he shot back with an eyebrow raise.

“Yeah, well you better be grateful you got that order because otherwise you wouldn't have gotten to see a cinnamonatic masterpiece!”

“Cinnamonatic? Is that how it’s said?”

“Shut up,” you groaned, collapsing back down on him, nuzzling into his collarbone.

He laughed breathily and let you settle back into him, holding you against him like a little bird that might fly away. His arms were wrapped tight around you now, and you cocooned into them, growing more and more comfortable and heavy. 

“König?” You asked quietly, breath fanning onto his neck.

You felt him shiver gently, shifting in the bed.

“Yeah?” he sighed.

“I think that most people would really like you if you were actually yourself around them. You don’t have to act around people, y’know?”

He lay there quietly, letting your words hang in the air like deadweight above your head, at first you thought that he might’ve fallen asleep, not really registering you. Though when you turned your head to look up at him, he turned his down, looking over to you soundlessly. Even in the dark, you knew his eyes were filled with a blur of memories and feelings he hadn’t even begun to tell you about yet - the things that had made him who he was. 

“One day I’ll get you to tell me why you do it,” you vowed to yourself, whispering faintly into the dark.

“Tell you what?”

König’s hearing was, as ever, sharp as a cat’s. He sounded gruff as he answered, like you were veering into territory he wasn’t going to let you explore yet. Though you were just drunk enough that you weren’t too afraid to push a little further, testing the boundaries. 

“All the things that made you afraid to be yourself.”

“Oh gott,” he sighed.

“What?”

“I left Austria and somehow still ended up in bed with Sigmund Freud,” he chuckled.

“Don’t deflect!” you moaned, yawning sleepily. 

“Apologies doctor,” he said, putting on a fake serious voice. “Perhaps I can start off by telling you about how difficult it was being moved from Austria to Germany when I was little, and tell you I was ruthlessly teased for my silly accent until I started changing it. Then we can move on to the difficult relationship I had with my stepfather and perhaps finish off with you telling me it all sounds rather like I want to sleep with one of my relatives.”

“You got teased for your accent?” you gasped, emotional and tipsy enough to almost shed a tear at the thought of little König being bullied. 

König had a habit of divulging little snippets about his past that he’d laugh about, but lamentably very little of them were ever very funny or good stories. That didn’t stop him though, tittering away as he’d told you about someone chasing him with a knife, or when he’d broken his arm after getting ganged up on in a school yard fight or even when he’d been threatened with being kicked out of the house if he didn’t go get a job - the reason he’d joined the German Army. 

“Oh don’t get all upset about it,” he groaned. “It was a very long time ago.”

“But why were people were being so mean to little König,” you protested, so choked with emotion you were speaking about him like a little cartoon protagonist. “I don’t like the thought of people being so mean to you, all your stories from when you were young are so sad!” 

“Oh you’re such a bleeding heart, how ever did you make it into the military?” he sighed, petting your head like you were little more than a mewling kitten. “Would it make you feel better if you knew that little König grew up to be bigger and taller than all of those assholes and showed them why they shouldn’t have messed with him? Would that help?”

You sniffed and thought about it for a second, imaging his sharp defined bone structure all soft and round with unshed baby fat and those hard narrowed eyes of his all sleepy and dark. He would’ve made quite the sight when he was younger you thought, the kind of face that needed to age into who he really was. A face that’d picked up scars and blemishes like little medals that appeared in certain lights. 

“It helps a little,” you huffed, running your hand up and down his chest, sliding your fingers over a rumple in his shirt. 

“What would help more? Would it help if I was cute again, would that make things better?”

“No, don’t you dare!”

“Are you sure, Schmusebär? I think it might make you feel better if I remind you that you’re my sweet perfect little baby-”

“I’m better! I feel better!” You groaned, desperately trying to cover your ears with your hands. “Not again!”

He was giggling mischievously to himself, clearly very impressed with his newfound torture technique, clutching at his chest as you wormed away and hissed at him to stop. He bit his lip and folded his arms behind his head, looking thoroughly pleased even while he stopped laughing. Apparently he was quite the gloat when he was self satisfied, and yet this - as you were to find out - wasn't even the tip of the iceberg. 

“What does Schmusebär even mean?” you sighed, screwing your face up as you waited to find out. 

“Schmusebär? Hm…it means cuddle bear,” he yawned, sounding like an old hound. 

“Aw…that actually is kind of sweet.”

“Oh? I’ll have to make sure I avoid using that then.”

“König!” you whined.

-☠️-

Going back to base after those two days together was hell. You’d hoped that König might end up being sent off somewhere else for a time. You’d practically prayed that KorTac would be needed elsewhere for once and that there was something more important than Ex Nihilo. However as with everything else your luck never struck. You were forced to remain in the same confines as him - trying  not to let your face completely betray everything that you’d gotten up to in your time together. 

However, König didn’t seem to have that agenda. Oh no. He wasn’t worried about revealing too much at all. 

About a day after you’d gotten back, you’d been training in the gym with Ghost, getting ready to be sent off on your next mission. You’d hardly even seen König at that point and after your first few hours of trying to avoid shitting yourself - thinking that someone somehow would’ve spotted you both together - you’d relaxed into the fact that everything was fine. Nobody knew about your secret rendezvous and no one ever would. Your heart could definitely resume its regular pace instead of the dizzying frenetic dance it’d decided to beat to.

You’d been running on the treadmill, maintaining a steady speed and focusing on the slap of your feet coming down heavily on the rubber - keeping time with your music. You breathed steadily, in and out, and kept your gaze mostly forward - occasionally watching to see what Ghost was doing as he piled on more and more weight to a barbell. It was therapeutic, the perfect way to forget about your little indiscretion and feel good about seeing Price next. You were practically back to normal!

All until you spotted König in the doorway. 

His dark eyes peered out at you from over his neck warmer and he had his arms folded just below the logo of his old Rammstein T-shirt. It was the same one he’d worn on the second day of your trip, the same day you’d spent holed up in your hotel room trying to find a way to take said shirt off. That wasn’t even the worst of it. When you’d glanced below the shirt, you’d come close to tripping like a cartoon when you noticed his grey sweats, ever so close to cardiac arrest. Even before he’d done anything, before he’d even properly come into the room, he was fucking you up. 

“Need something?” Ghost growled, noisily dropping the weight he’d been lifting to the ground. 

“I was going to workout,” König replied, voice sounding sour as it always did with your team. 

“Stop standing there staring like a spare prick and come in then.”

Neither man said anything after that. König narrowed his eyes at Ghost, his arms appearing as if they wanted to fly forward and choke the Lieutenant out. However, in a stunning display of restraint, he kept them at his side and walked over to the weights, depositing himself at the opposite side of his enemy. He was keeping Ghost in his eyeline, and regrettably you as well. 

Your heart had noticeably started beating faster, though it had been a while since you’d upped the setting on the treadmill. Your feet pistoned hard on the whirring machine and you were starting to feel every step, your chest aching as your breathing pattern was thrown off. You panted hard and slowed the setting way down into a bare minimum walk, grasping for your water bottle like someone crawling through the desert. 

With König’s antics you’d forgotten all about the evil red numbers that flashed on the screen in front of you, screaming out that you were falling behind your goal. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was ensuring your feet didn’t trip over each other now that you weren’t looking where you should be while you ran. Your eyes had just about popped out when you caught sight of him laying on the benchpress, you couldn’t seem to turn away, too transfixed by his powerful lifts and heavy breaths. 

After a few sets his arms were already beginning to bulge and before you could stop yourself, your mind wandered off to remembering your weekend together. The feel of his ropey arms as they supported your weight and held in you in place, thick and veiny from the effort of all the…activities you’d been getting up to. You shook your head and gulped when you almost felt your right foot falter, just about toppling your entire body like a badly built jenga tower. 

“Sneak!”

You whipped your head around at the shout and looked back at Ghost like a deer in front of a combine harvester. He’d caught you looking. You took a beat before you took your airpods from your ears, shakily setting them down onto the tray so that you could hear your Lieutenant clearly. 

“Yeah?” you asked weakly.

“Come spot me.”

Ghost had never asked for you to spot for him before. Frankly, the last thing that Ghost needed was for you to spot him. You were confident he could lift five of you in a pinch, however, you knew he wasn’t really asking because it's what he needed. He knew that you needed to keep your eyes off König - especially while Price was likely to be hanging around. 

You walked over and loomed over Ghost, nervously making sure to keep your eyes on him as much as possible.  It wasn’t like you could help them wandering a couple times, admiring the way König’s shoulder blades bunched and how his arms swelled out of his T-shirt like they were tearing free. His breath and Ghost’s intermingled, both battling for your attentions, Ghost only winning because you were sure he’d rat to Price if you were being too obvious. 

Though, when Ghost finally sat up, that’s when König decided to fight dirtier.

“Pub later?” Ghost asked, his voice disappearing somewhere in the fuzz of your mind. 

Your lungs closed off, forgetting how to expel air, holding tight onto the breath you were supposed to let go. A swell of static took over your head and your teeth ached from clenching hard watching König stand up and take his shirt off. His uncovered body betraying the signs of all that you’d done on your second day at the hotel. The distressed and unmistakable scratches that you’d littered on his back, already turning pink as they’d begun to messily heal. 

“Sneak?”

You weren’t listening to Ghost anymore, you were too busy fuming about König being so obvious. How could reveal his back like that in front of Ghost, what the fuck was he trying to prove? Your fists balled up with anger and you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to hold onto what you felt so that you wouldn’t fall to the embarrassment of knowing that your superior could see your handiwork on König’s back. 

“Fuck sake! C’mon.”

Ghost took you away, coming up behind you and shoving your back, manhandling you into the corridor. This was too familiar, you’d thought to yourself. It was just like the mission, you were going to get in trouble again, and this time it was all over - no more warnings. Everything that you’d thought was supposed to be ahead of you flashed before your eyes and you tried not to let the tears that were gathering break loose from the dam. 

Your focus trained back on ghost and your nostrils flared faster than they had while you were running. You sputtered for a second, figuring out what to say. Though, you didn’t know what to say, had no idea how to explain yourself. 

“Are you alright?” Ghost asked softly. 

You frowned, feeling as if you were suffering from a head wound. He looked down at you with soft cow eyes and touched your shoulder gently. What the hell was happening? 

“Alright? I- I’m ok,” you breathed, voice lilting as if you were asking a question.

“That was fucking classless that,” Ghost sighed.

“Classless?” you repeated, heart stopping as you wondered what he was talking about. 

“Yeah. Taking his fuckin’ kit off and showing you he’s been fucking someone else is a low blow, Sneak. You don’t have to pretend you don’t care with me. I won’t tell anyone, not about something like that.”

Oh. My. Fucking. God. 

You paused for a minute, mind catching up with what Ghost just said. He thought that König was trying to make some kind of point, to show you that he was over you. A garbled laugh tried to crawl free from your throat, but you choked it down and looked away, trying to think about anything other than the colossal misunderstanding that was taking place. 

“Yeah, I um- I… I’ll be fine, Ghost… but um- maybe I could use a minute, y’know? I’m gonna go for a shower and sort myself out and I’ll uh- I’ll see you at the pub later, right?”

He still looked concerned, but his brows lifted a little. After another reassuring pat on the shoulder he sent you on your way and walked off, leaving you stumbling back to your room like a rambling tumbleweed. You were in complete disbelief at what just happened. 

Not only did you get away with your forbidden weekend away together. Now all the guys were going to think König was fucking someone else. The perfect cover. 

You screamed with laughter into your pillow once you got back, completely disbelieving that somehow things were working out for once. Luckily for you, luckily for König especially. It was that thought that sobered up and had you narrowing your eyes at the wall in front of you. 

König was in big trouble.

Next Part Here

[directdogman]

Hello Hound!! Since it's Dialtown's 2nd anniversary, I've been planning up a few "general" related questions about your series that I've been meaning to ask, but I decided to save them up for the big day because why not? Anyways, here's what I've got, these were meant to be fun to answer so don't sweat it :]

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

That's all I have for now, and I'm really excited to see your answers!!

I normally don't answer this many questions, but... alright, sure, tis the season!

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

Yeah, of course! I'm a lil proud, admittedly, but I'm aware of how comically little I really have to do with it all, even if I did make the game. Luck does play a LOT into it, of course. Granted, I made my share of predictions that wound up being useful, but it always comes down to lady luck at the end of the day. I've seen good projects fail and bad ones go viral. It's really all just a hodgepodge of probability and whimsy. That being said, I am very pleased with DT's success, and the community that's formed around the game! It caught me by surprise!

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

Gingi's always fun to write. And Mingus. Most painful is tough to say. Maybe Crown. I got a little weird when I wrote his full backstory, kinda caught up in the emotion Norm talks about. Never been a fan of stories getting cut short. You gotta wonder what would've happened if he'd made different choices, y'know?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

Honestly? Karen, probably. She's super underrated for sure. The fandom still loves her, but she doesn't get the same kind of attention as Oliver, Gingi, Randy, Norm. She's worth it.

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

Oh, I already have. I have this monstruous 30-40 page document detailing Crown's life and entire career. It's quite a read. and quite a mind-fuck if you don't know Dialtown's universe too well.

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

Oh yeah, a few characters had scenes that were cut. Stabby, Shooty, Mingus, Bunny, even Bigfoot! There's also the game's cut 6th datable, who was an interesting character with ties to other characters in the cast who I wanted to do more with. Ah, maybe one day.

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

Bigfoot. I made the ape noises in the suit. Had to. It felt right.

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

I quite like Norm's set, Mingus' too. Karen's poses too are quite good.

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

That answer probably changes every day. I like pretty much any scene where Mingus loses her temper.

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

I'd love to make sequels one day! I've got a lot of ideas for where the characters/story would end up. By the time DT1 wrapped up, I'd conceptualized way too much stuff to put in one game (without it taking another few years to finish), so if I ever wanted to make sequels, I'd 100% know where to start! But, that's a later down the road conversation.

For now, I'm gonna keep working on the Roger DLC and if there's demand for more, I can go from there :)

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

I guess I COULD do that with, like, anything. Nothing immediately springs to mind, since, y'know, I'm in control of the canon anyway. I will say, I've seen headcanons and theories that ARE scarily accurate to canon, to the point where I've feared people would just think I'm lifting stuff from the fanbase! It's a good thing I talk about these things with collaborators, huh? I've got a PAPER-TRAIL!!!

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

Finishing a new scene and realizing how stupidly long it was (without me realizing it) was always a treat. But yeah, writing the characters had to be it. Specifically any scene where a character the audience knows meets someone the audience doesn't know well (or at all), with the dynamic changing. Those are fun to write.

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

Hard question to answer. I do really wanna give a high number, but truthfully, a lot of game dev actually isn't super 'fun'. Some tasks are, granted, but many parts are a slog. Sitting and formatting dialogue, and then adding text pauses and pose changes isn't exactly a super thrilling activity. The engine itself also has some issues which I have to work around that adds to the workplace. Play-testing a scene for the 4th time isn't super fun either, or trying to figure out why the game crashes on some PCs and ONLY very rarely... Those tasks are Sisyphean to some degree.

...But, while most of those parts aren't fun, it's all still rewarding. There's a sense of accomplishment when you finish a scene. You get to look back at your hard work, remember the hours you spent typing dialogue into a text box and formatting mass amounts of pngs, painstakingly + manually getting the game's awful pre-loader to deal with the sprites right, etc... and suddenly, at the end, you've got this lil experience that people can play and enjoy. Somehow, the sum of all of those not so fun activities has created something that's going to make people laugh, feel happy. That's special. and even if some parts of development weren't super fun on their own, that's always what I remember. That in the end, all of those not so fun days mattered.

The route I agonized the most over was Oliver's. I went through a few weeks of writer's block, and now, it's one of the most popular routes in the game! Crazy how that happens. I was SURE for about a week that people would rank the route at the bottom! That's what I mean, all of the stress I went through trying to figure it out amounted to something people connected with! To think I almost CUT the route entirely!!!

And y'know, God knows Dialtown gave me something to throw myself at during a time where I REALLY needed the outlet. I'm very grateful to the project for that. So, I'll give DT an honorary 8 out of 10, even if it wasn't a consistently 8/10 experience making it heh heh! Sure glad I did, though and I'm very glad if any of you reading this had a really good time playing it! :)

Thanks for the questions!

[irondad-defensesquad]

My Irondad fic recs!

I thought of doing this because why not? Admittedly, I'm not reading as much fanfiction as I did a couple years ago, but some fics have changed my life entirely. In case I forgot one, I'll add it later!

I would’ve organized this in a bullet list, but Tumblr hates me and invented a character limit for that. So this is going to be long and will be under the cut. Anyway, let’s do this!

Rare and Sweet As Cherry Wine by loubuttons – I've mentioned this one before, but this fic right here was what inspired me to write my own Irondad works. One very particular detail I like about it is how it portrays Maria, Tony's mother. It's not what I usually see in other fics about Tony's childhood, since they tend to make Howard the big bad parent. Of course, this is because I personally related to it, as I don't believe in the "bad parent vs. good parent". I also like that it praises Edwin Jarvis as the one who looked out for Tony the most. It's pretty realistic and a very melancholic character study, IMO. *TW for abuse and neglect*

You're Always Iron Man by madasthesea – a very short fic but I absolutely love the premise. Takes place after the big battle in Iron Man 2, and Tony finds little Peter again. They have a very endearing interaction. The following chapter is also very cute!

Nothing like a fresh cup of humiliation in the morning by madasthesea – Pure fluff! This one is probably a classic in the Irondad fandom. Tony kisses Peter's forehead without second thought. Shenanigans ensue. It's so adorable and funny. If you just want to read fluff without angst, this one is for you.

when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go) by madasthesea - I think I heard about this fic thanks to @/irondadfics here on Tumblr, but I might be wrong since I already knew the Nice work, kid series. Anyway, Peter is believed to be dead, so Tony (and the rest of the Avengers team) is mourning him. In reality, Peter is astral projecting. You know, sort of like how Stephen Strange, in his first movie, was fighting a guy in the other dimension while his body on Earth was struggling to live. That's basically what happens. Strange appears, of course, and saves the day. And I pretty much LOVE the presumed dead trope. I don't know why. Maybe it's the angst of it all. *TW for grief/mourning and temporary character death*

The Reason by doctornineandthreequarters – I think I read this one when I was still writing Oh, take me back to the start. I was looking for fics for inspiration, and I found this one. During the Time Heist in Endgame, Tony remembers the reason he's fighting to bring everyone else back. It's very emotional.

Couch Cuddles by happyaspie – Classic sickfic, but with more fluff than anything. I like rereading it when I feel lonely and touch-starved, especially when I'm also sick like Peter.

You’re So Much Like Me (I’m Sorry) by SpaceCowboysFromMars – Irondad + Miles Morales! Peter is an adult in this, and he freaks out when an injured Miles arrives in his apartment. Tony gives him some wisdom about mentoring and parenting. I don’t usually find Irondad stories featuring Miles (and not necessarily a Spider-Verse crossover), so this was a nice discovery. Peter & Miles & Tony is a very underrated trio IMO. *TW for slight gore*

I'm Glad I Have You by punkybunny – Peter has been having a rough time, dealing with loneliness as Aunt May is not home often, and with bullying at school... until he finally has the chance to spend time with Tony. However, the demons don't disappear completely. Obviously, more Hurt/Comfort, lmao. *TW for nightmare/bad dream*

I Want to Trust You by punkybunny – Actually part of a series that, admittedly, I haven't read all the other stories. But even this one is a very interesting concept on its own. This is a Hydra Peter AU, after Peter has been rescued. He gets sick but given his past in Hydra, he thinks Tony is going to get angry. Peter is proven wrong when Tony helps him get better. The ending is very adorable. I'll see if I can read the rest of the series one day. *TW for past abuse and experimentation*

what you think I've done wrong by ironxprince – I don't often read Biodad stories as you all know, but I was, again, looking for inspiration for You keep me searching for a heart of gold, and I stumbled across this one. Basically Peter, as Tony's biological son, finally meets Howard. It goes as well as you think /sarcasm. *TW for physical abuse*

i, in time, will climb my mountain by ironxprince – This one is heavy. Once again, Peter is Tony's bio son, and he's suicidal. Every time Peter attempts suicide, he buys a new plant. Tony doesn't know this, so he's confused as to why there are so many plants in their house. I love this one, but of course, I try to read it when I’m not having a really bad day. *Once again, TW for suicide attempts*

how do you get that lonely (and nobody knows?) by parkrstark – Yeah... another heavy one. Peter attempts suicide but he saves himself before he reaches the ground. With that, he goes to Tony. This ends happily, don't worry. *TW for suicide attempt*

When You Can't Sleep by Emily_F6 – Pretty much Tony comforting a sleepy Peter, who has just had a nightmare about Thanos. Just Hurt/Comfort and domestic fluff. *TW for mention of death*

i get by (but it's eating me alive) by Livinei – Honestly, I think this is the BEST May's Abusive Boyfriend story I've ever read. For one, none of the characters are oblivious nor dismissive of Peter's feelings. May isn't neglectful and Ned actually tries to encourage Peter to tell someone. I also like that Peter isn't completely helpless. I don't usually see those things in other fics with this trope, sadly. And of course, Protective Tony is my weakness. *TW for emotional and physical abuse*

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea – Post-Endgame where Tony is alive, and Peter and Tony are both trying to cope, so they rely on each other. Pure Hurt/Comfort.

A Tremendous Thing by ExpectoPatronum – Possibly one of my favorite Irondad stories EVER. Also post-Endgame with Alive Tony (though the author better explains it in the notes, it's supposed to be part of a series, but this story can be read on its own). There are a lot of references to Charlotte's Web if you're familiar with it. Basically, it's Father's Day and Peter is feeling guilty and out of place at Tony's lake house, even though everyone is readily trying to include him. It's absolutely beautiful and painful.

Hug You I Must by spiderwriting (catch_you_later) – Probably one of the first touch-starved Peter fics I've read. I like how it describes touch-starvation as this "itchy" current in your body, something that makes you anxious. Thankfully, Peter gets his hug later on. Plus there are some Star Wars references (the title probably is one, lol). *There's some minor violence here when Peter is fighting off some bad guys, but not the focus of the fic*

When You're There With No One There To Hold, I'll Be The Arms That Reach For You by Squibbles94 – Another touch-starved Peter fic. But I really like the references to Cast Away. Ironically I saw this movie in the same year the author published this fic (dare I say SHORTLY after it was posted). I also had no idea that Cast Away was entirely about isolation. Gosh, the main character's monologue at the end ALWAYS gets to me... anyway, yeah, the peak of the pandemic was awful to me, so reading fics like this one helped tons. It still does.

I am cold by N/A (orphan account) – Peter tries to visit Tony, but he gets lost in a subway tunnel on a freezing day. Eventually we learn why Peter wanted to see Tony, but overall this is mainly domestic fluff. Everything ends well.

Sorry Pedro by PinkEasterEggs – One of the first Irondad fics I read. Peter has a nightmare about Homecoming (mainly Toomes), but he avoids waking Tony for that reason. But thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y's protocols, Peter goes to his mentor. Tony is also super soft here and it makes my heart swoon.

you are enough by diaz_evan – Another post-Endgame fic. Arguably I began reading Irondad fics only after Endgame released. Anyway, this one is short, kinda sad but it ends well. It’s Tony’s birthday and Peter feels very anxious about what to get him as a present. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to prove his love for Tony. *TW for panic attack*

Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Stark by downeylove – There are a lot of Father’s Day fics for these two, of course, but this one takes the cake for me. It’s simple but very endearing to me. Tony obviously doesn’t have good memories of this day, but Peter changes that for the first time. It’s really cute. Plus, Pepper is here, and I love her. I wish I could read more of her interacting with Peter. *TW for mentions of alcoholism and past child abuse*

5 Times Peter Didn’t Say He Was Struggling… And The One Time He Did by Bladam_Shevine – Again, an old fic I read years ago. I admit I haven’t re-read it in a while, but I remember enjoying it and even saving it to read offline. It’s basically what it says in the title: Peter struggles in many ways and he initially refuses help. Tony is always there to reassure him he can count on him. Bruce is here if you like him! And MJ helps Peter on one of the chapters as well. The chapters might get heavier as they go, but it ends on a hopeful note. *TW for injury, panic attack, suicide attempt (it doesn’t involve Peter), and depression*

The Good Days and the Bad by SoupGirlLovesSoup - Peter has had a bad day, now he's cuddling with Tony. It takes a while before Peter finally tells him what happened. It gets sad, but it's mostly fluff and it ends hopefully. I love re-reading it when I need the comfort. *TW for mention of suicide attempt, depression, and bullying*

Breathe Again by gwenoakley - Post-Endgame where Tony survives. He's recovering in the hospital and Peter finally reunites with him. Before that, though, we can feel the anxiety and trauma Peter feels. Definitely makes me emotional. It's the ending they deserved.

Popsicles and Playgrounds by ironfamjam - I can't believe I forgot to save this one in my bookmarks. I used to re-read this all the time! It's an AU where MIT student Tony meets a kid Peter. Eventually, Tony becomes Peter's babysitter! This is part of a series, which I still have to read fully. It's such a wholesome idea!! <3 *Howard's bad parenting is mostly mentioned*

Well, for now this is it! Again, I might add more fics here. I think I also could make a list of what particular concepts I want to read more in Irondad stories, so maybe you guys could give me your own recs. I might try to resume my habit of reading Irondad fics, because they give me a lot of comfort. Thanks for reading this far! I hope you enjoy any of the stories I included.

(I'm aware some authors here have their accounts on Tumblr, but I didn't want to annoy anyone by tagging them, so yeah 😅)

EDIT (June 4th, 2024): What Irondad fics I would like to read!

[mononijikayu]

demonyo — ryomen sukuna.

For the first time in a long time, you see beyond Sukuna’s stoic exterior, glimpsing the depth of his emotions beneath the surface. It's a revelation that leaves you reeling, realizing just how much he has come to rely on your presence in his life, whether he admits it or not.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Miscarriage, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Miscarriage, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: demonyo by juan karlos

ko-fi

note: i already pre-planned the writing for this for a while now, but i think the story is about to get worse now that its near its end. three more chapters before my favorite chapter in the series and probably the shortest??? we shall see. anyway, i love you!!! enjoy the story as always~

MUCH HAD CHANGED FOR YOU. But you doubt that you would dare change anything about it. As you released the sigh you held for what seemed like years, your purple eyes seemed to shake as you tried to make sense of your reality. It had been more than ten years since you last saw Sukuna. Ten years since he had left you and your world. Ten years more as mother, wife, clan leader, consort — all the things you had not expected all those years ago. All these things you still were, all these things you suffer to be. 

You looked to your side and felt your eyes narrow in a somber manner. You hadn’t left the lord’s chambers in days now. You just could not bear to do it. Not when Suzaku needed you. You sit in your husband’s chambers for days on end, tending to him as he lay there in painful agony. These days, you think your husband is waiting for fall. He stares from his futon with those weary eyes, hoping for that day where the leaves would be dying, just like himself. 

You look at him worriedly as you squeezed the water out of the cloth. You turned to him and started to gently press the wet cloth to his body and slowly clean his body, for he is now unable to move. He had good days, where he could sit up well enough to read or eat. But most times, you read reports to him. And your son’s progress in training. 

It was hard to see how constrained Suzaku was by the pain and anguish. Most days, it was easier not to look at him. Most days, you wished you could take a moment to process everything. But you knew you couldn’t. You could not leave him to the whims of his pain. Even when he asks you to, you could not. He had been nothing but good to you. He had given you peace, with everything he had done in nearly twenty years of marriage. And even this you were was not enough to repay all he had done for you and your children.

These past ten years have been relatively peaceful for all of you. The war weighed down to skirmishes and occasional battles. The Zenin were not to end their wanting and the Kamo were not one to forget a slight. The Fujiwara had moved from both the Ryomen lands and their own, having been incinerated as a clan by Sukuna. 

As you continue to tend to him, memories of Sukuna flood your mind. The last time you saw him, his presence had been a dark shadow over your life. Yet, in the decade that followed, you had found moments of light amidst the darkness. You had rebuilt, you had nurtured, and you had loved fiercely. Hida is back in Ryomen control and over this decade, your leadership has grown the Ryomen back to its power.  

But you were not a fool to forget that you now share it in a quiet agreement with Sukuna. These ten years, he had built a shrine on the opposite side of Hida, and people had flocked to him by the hundreds. He had the name after all and that gives him legitimacy across Hida. You knew very well that his Jujutsu….does not compare to anyone. And more than ever, growing powerful every single day. 

The agreement with Sukuna, though uneasy, had held. You did not seek him out, and neither did he. You knew better than that as much as he did. He had killed more sorcerers than you could count. And your world of sorcerers would not take to that kindly. They never have. Deviants are shunned. They are nothing but the fallen ones and these days, they whisper about him being the ‘disgraced one’. The remaining Ryomen elders had been glad to get rid of him, yapping about how this saves the clan from ruin. You did not agree with them. Even after all this time. But you knew that you can never take back what was lost. You were no fool. And neither was he.

When you were not in Hida, you were in Gojo lands. Ghosts haunted you, but at the very least you could distract yourself from them. With your husband’s efforts, there could only be peace. And with that peace, your children have grown up well and happy, surrounded by a bubble that keeps them from the worldly affairs that they need not worry over. 

Your eldest, Seiryuu, was now four and ten, nearly a man to all that were around him. He had grown taller than ever before. You were certain that he would grow and tower over those around him. His powers had grown over the years, more than ever this past year — obsessively.  Masako had grown finely, with her dark hair echoing like shining charcoal. In only ten summers, she had grown to be quite a beautiful tender young girl. You kept her away from Jujutsu a little while longer, but her cursed technique had started to manifest little by little.

You gently wipe your husband’s brow with a damp cloth, feeling the heat of his fever through the fabric.This was a regular occurrence, one that had only increased his pain and discomfort. At first, you were concerned and you still were — but even with your efforts, his fevers would not leave him. This had become a new part of his life.  

Suzaku’s once-strong hands now lie limply at his sides, the strength that had carried you through so many battles now drained away. The same hands that had held yours in your hardest times, the hands that had held yours at each birth, the hands that had carried your children. His warm eyes, though clouded with pain, still hold a flicker of the determination that once defined him. You could see his will to live. He does not want to leave yet, you knew. Not until Seiryuu was old enough. 

You could only sigh as you returned the damp cloth back into the basin. From the outside, life continues. The sounds of children playing in the distance, the chatter of villagers going about their day, and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze all seem to mock the stillness within these walls. Your husband had lived for those echoes of life when he himself could not get up. He says that it reminds him of when your children were younger. It reminds him to live, to know life. 

"Rest some more, husband." you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. "You must gather your strength. The children miss you.”

You could feel his eyes, though dimming, reflect a deep sense of peace in your words. It has been hard to keep the children away from your husband. You did not want them to see him in pain and he knows that too well too. But the mention of them makes him want to live. It always does. You know he worries about leaving you and the children behind, but you have always been strong. Stronger than you ever thought possible.

As your husband’s breathing grows more labored, you feel the weight of all you have endured together. The battles fought, the tears shed, and the laughter shared. The peace you had enjoyed with your children together. You take a hold of his sullen hands and squeeze it, your tears mingling with the sweat on his skin. You want him to know that you will be here.

"We will be alright, Suzaku." you say, more to reassure yourself than him. "We will be alright."

In the silence that follows, you exchange looks. His ever tender, as it always was.The world outside may continue to change, but within these chambers, time stands still, suspended in what time remains for the two of you. You find solace in this moment. Or at least you can try. The worries of the wily world keep knocking you down to only worry.

But you could not help but worry. You were a mother more than anything else. Your husband’s condition loomed over all of you. And the possibility that he could die any time soon, when your son was still but a boy and without the expertise of his father worried you. And your husband knew that. Much of the consequences of his death would be a blow to you and your children.

A year ago, your perfectly healthy husband had brought your son with him to quell a cursed spirit that was plaguing the region. Your son was excited to be able to put his skills to the test, to make his father proud. Seiryuu was proficient in using his powers enough that he was able to fight against the cursed spirit’s lackeys. However, being overtaken by a flood of other curses, he did not notice his father’s need for aid. And your husband took the curse's full impact. From that moment on, your husband started to decline. Seiryuu had felt nothing but guilt over the matter. 

The people of the clan started to whisper about his ability to be the heir. If Seiryuu could not protect his father, how can he protect the clan? The boy with the six-eyes and he could not do his duty, his most important filial duty. Those are their whispers. And it breaks your heart over and over. But your son was only a fourteen-year-old boy. He was still a boy—even if the world saw him as a grown man. And you feared for him.

Factions have started to appear in the Gojo clan, including that of Suzaku’s own cousin. If the time came to fight for your son’s rights, you knew that you could be overwhelmed. The voice in your head started to tempt you to use your powers, whispering that you could defeat all the clans by yourself, with destruction. But you vowed to never do that. You didn’t seek the destruction of all, but peace. The voice laughs at you, telling you that this train of thought will get you killed. You do not reply.

As you tend to your husband, you glance at Seiryuu, standing at the doorway, his shoulders slumped. You could see the boy in him so clearly. He felt that heavy weight of guilt and worry. He looks so much older than his years, burdened by the weight of expectations and the whispers of the clan. 

He lowers the tight cloak of those bandages around his eyes. His cerulean eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see the frightened child he truly is, hidden behind the mask of forced maturity. Your husband looks at you and nods at you. You narrow your eyes at him, as though telling him that you could not leave you. But he squeezes your hand. You purse your lips and nod at him. You turned to a servant and smiled at them. 

Closing the door behind you, you take your son in your arms to embrace him. He slowly succumbs to your touch. He felt so small in your arms, as though he was not the one who had shaken the world with his birth. He was just a boy, a boy who had so much of his youth ahead of him. And he is robbed of it by the world which does not understand. You kiss the top of his head with tender abandon. 

"Mother….I…." he says softly, his voice trembling. "Is Father... will he...?"

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Your father is strong, my son. He fights for us, for you. We must be strong for him too.”

Seiryuu nods, but you can see the doubt in his cerulean blue eyes. He blames himself for his father's condition, and the clan's murmurs only deepen his self-reproach. He does not feel confident in himself, to truly be worthy of his father’s seat. To be worthy of even being his son. You could see it in his eyes. And you hate it. You wish you could shield him from their harsh judgments, but you know that he must face this trial as you have faced your own.

"Remember, my dearest boy," you say, your voice firm but gentle, "you are not alone. We stand together, as a family, as a clan. You will grow stronger, and you will prove them wrong. You are already worthy. Your father has told you that.”

“But mother, I….”

You shake your head at him, looking him in his eyes. You smile. “You are our pride, my son. Always remember that.”

He nods again, more resolute this time, but the worry does not leave his eyes. “I will remember.”

“You must go and get some rest.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulder. “I heard you were up all night trying to master your reversal technique.”

“I am fine, mother.” He insists as he tries to wipe your worry with his smile. “Not entirely exhausted as of yet. I plan to go and continue—”

“I don’t want you to cause yourself hurt.” You interject to him. “I want my son well. Please rest for a while at least. Soothe your mother.”

He purses his lips, almost like a child. He slowly nods. “Alright, mother.”

When he left, you return to your husband’s chambers. You turn back to your husband, sitting down beside him and wiping his brow once more. The voice in your head grows louder, taunting you with promises of power and control. It tells you that with your abilities, you could crush all opposition, and ensure Seiryuu's place as heir beyond any doubt.

But you push the voice away, focusing on your husband and your son. You have vowed to seek peace, not destruction. Even if it means facing overwhelming odds, even if it means standing against the very whispers that threaten your family, you will not falter. You will not give in.

The voice laughs again, mocking your resolve. "This train of thought will get you killed, little fool." it hisses.

You do not reply. Instead, you draw strength from the loyalty you have for your husband and the love you have for your children, from the hope that despite the challenges, you can still find a path to peace. You will stand firm, for them, for the future you believe in. And no matter what the voice says, you will not be swayed.

Suzaku has fallen asleep again.

You place the wet towel away.

You sit patiently, as you always do.

And you pray to the gods for your relief.

IT WAS A NICE DAY OUT. It was one of his good days, and he had been cheerful. Suzaku had enough strength to sit up and talk. When he sat up, he looked at you and smiled. He pointed towards the outside. You worried about the strain on his body. But you could not deny him such pleasure, to explore your home. You hooked his arm around your own as you helped him up. When servants passed you, you refused their help. You could help your husband there. Little by little, you helped him take a walk towards the vast expanse of the koi gardens. 

As the two of you strolled among the greenery around the serene waters and the swimming koi, the sun was shining. The sun was beaming like never before. It was a good day, you think. It was not too cold, just warm enough. And your husband was in good spirits. For the first time in a while, you could see life in his eyes once again. The smile on your lips tethered tenderly. 

Gojo Suzaku sits down on one of the edges of the benches. You gently hold him as you too lower your body and sit beside him. You sighed as you let the wind kiss your face with great abandon. When you turn to your side, your husband smiles at you too. But the look in his eyes  tells you that he can feel it—that he would soon die. You want to tell him not to leave you. You want to tell him that he would live a long life. But you know that he would only laugh.

Your husband then coughs, the sound harsh and grating. You look at him with concern, and he smiles at you, a weary but warm expression. He waves you off as your eyes dilate in panic. He squeezes your hand and tries to settle you back into a calm. 

“You worry too much.” His first words echoed in your head. It had been so long since you had heard his words be this clear. 

“I can’t help it.” You admitted to him as you let out a sigh. “I am your wife. And a wife worries about her husband.”

"Don't worry, my love," he says softly, his voice still tinged with humor despite the gravity of his words. “I’m not feeling too bad.”

“Your coughing is still painful to you.”

“Not too bad.” He says, downplaying it with a smile. “It’s not bad.”

You glare at him. “You are a pathetic liar.”

He laughs in reply. “It is not a lie. It’s not bad, because you’re here.”

You couldn’t help but shrug at him. “Nearly twenty years of marriage and you have not changed.”

He smiles. "Has it been that long?”

You hummed to him as the wind brushed against you. “Hm, it has been.”

“It feels only like yesterday when we got married.”

You smiled at him. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Silence enveloped the two of you, a heavy shroud that settled between you like an unspoken barrier. Suzaku's gaze lingered on the horizon, his eyes following the graceful flight of a heron as it soared effortlessly through the sky. The sight seemed to capture his attention, drawing him into a moment of quiet contemplation amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling around you both. The heron wanted to be free. 

In the stillness of the night, the sound of the heron's wings slicing through the air echoed softly, a soothing melody that provided a brief respite from the weight of the world pressing down upon your shoulders. It was as if time itself had paused, allowing you to simply be, to exist in this moment of serene tranquility.

“I've had a good life, thanks to you."

You shake your head, refusing to accept his resignation. "Husband, please. You mustn't talk like that. You'll be with us for many more years."

He gently squeezes your hand, his touch as familiar and comforting as ever. "We both know that's not true. But it's alright. I’ve come to terms with it."

A lump forms in your throat as you watch him, the man who has been your rock and your partner through so much. "I can't lose you, not yet." you whisper, your voice trembling.

"I know you have worries about the growing divide in the Gojo clan," he says, his voice softer now, "and I worry that, unlike all these years before, I cannot be as strong as before to protect the three of you from it.”

"You have done more than enough, Suzaku." you reply, your voice firm with conviction. "You always have."

He pauses, looking out over the garden, his eyes distant with memories. "Do you remember, years ago, when I told you that Sukuna and I spoke?”

You nod, the memory bringing a bittersweet smile to your lips. “You never told me what you talked about.”

“Sukuna told me to be more honest about my feelings for you.” He reveals, watching your face contort into a puddle of emotions. “And all this time, I should have been more honest with you.”

Suzaku reaches out, brushing your loose hair back behind your ear. "I love you, wife." he says, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than the world knows, more than you do."

"I love you too. I hope you know." you respond, your voice breaking.

He smiles, shaking his head gently. "I know you will never love me as much as you do Sukuna. But I’m more than satisfied with the wonderful life we have had together. Nearly twenty years of a happy marriage—I am thankful for all of it. Because you took care of me, accepted me for what I was. You loved a man whole, made more of his life than anything else.”

You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your cheek. Your eyes narrow, their color deepening to an even more intense shade of purple. "You’ve given me a life I never thought possible, Suzaku. I’ve cherished every moment."

He closes his eyes, savoring the closeness, the tranquility of the garden surrounding you. "Promise me you'll continue to be strong, for Seiryuu, for our family."

"I promise," you whisper, your voice thick with unshed tears.

Suzaku opens his eyes, looking at you with a depth of love and understanding that transcends words. "Thank you," he murmurs. "For everything."

You stay like that for a while, leaning into each other, drawing strength from the bond you share. The koi swim lazily in the pond, their movements a gentle reminder of the cycles of life and the beauty that can be found even in moments of sadness. You sighed as you leaned against him. He smiles as he lays a kiss upon your cheek.

As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, you and Suzaku stay that way for as long as you could. The two of you just enjoy the silence that remains in the veil of the golden light. You were certain that the weight of the future looms large, but in this moment, you find solace seeing him like this. You banish the world from everything else. You just sit there with him. You take in what remains before it’s too late. And with that, you fell asleep beside him.

The next day, it was quite a surprise to you. Gojo Suzaku was still as he was yesterday, his frailty more pronounced in the morning light. You sit up beside him, holding his hand as he gathers the strength to speak. You wanted to say something, but you could see it, how he wanted to say something to you. And so you sat there, silent and let him gather his strength to say it all out loud.

“You must leave for Hida tomorrow.”

Your face scrunches into confusion. “Why must we leave for Hida–”

“Live on after me, wife.” Suzaku says softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. “Take care of the children, and most of all, find happiness when I am gone.”

Tears well up in your eyes, but you manage to keep your voice steady. “Don’t talk like that, Suzaku. You'll still be with us for a long time yet.”

He shakes his head gently, a sad smile on his lips. “I’ve made plans to ensure that Seiryuu will be my successor. No one will challenge him.”

“It’s not as easy as you say, husband.” you reply, your concern evident. “The clan is divided. There are factions, and Seiryuu is still so young.”

“It will be easy.” Suzaku insists, squeezing your hand with the little strength he has left. “Leave it all to me. I’ve arranged everything.”

“Suzaku, please—”

"You don’t have to worry," he says with a reassuring smile. "I’ve taken care of everything."

"But whatever you’re planning, I cannot accept it." you reply, your voice firm. "We have to do it together. As we always have.”

Suzaku sighs and places a gentle kiss upon your head. "This is my last wish, you know." he says softly. "Please, let me do as I please."

Your lips fall into a line, wanting to argue, but the earnestness in his eyes stops you. You nod reluctantly, tears threatening to spill. "If that is what you wish." you whisper. "I’ll let you."

He smiles, relief washing over his features. "Thank you. I will miss you, but it’s time for you to return to Hida with the children. I don’t want you to see me die."

The finality of his words stabs at your heart, but you know he’s trying to spare you pain. "You will not die, I refuse to believe it….I…”

"Please, wife. Do as I instruct." he interrupts gently. "Do it for the peace of my soul.”

You nod again, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. He pulls you into a tender embrace, holding you close as if to memorize the feel of you one last time. You stayed like that until you could not anymore. The rest of the day, you had ordered quietly for your son and daughter to be informed and your entire household to be readied for the journey. 

You were not ready to lose your husband, not like this. You watched him laugh all night, telling little quips and singing little tunes despite his coughing fits. He wrote many things that night, but he refused to let you see them. Yet you were certain that he was preparing himself for what may come. You bit your lower lip, as you struggled to put away those tears from pouring through your eyes. You stilled yourself as you retired to your chambers. You cry and cry until there is nothing left to let out from your purple eyes.

When you emerged in the morning, your servants had tried to not let their faces notice your devastation. You dressed in your finest junnihitoe for him. You put all of your most beautiful suberakashi rested upon the foundation of your long dark hair. Your hiōgi was the most elegant of cypress wood, painted in beautiful herons flying over the river. Your husband had made it for you all those years ago, and it was your favorite. You wanted to look good for him. You wanted to make sure that he knows that he is leaving you well. That you would be fine, even if you would not truly be. You wanted him to know.

He was assisted by his servant in standing as he met you and the children out in the courtyard. Seiryuu stood tall and proud before his father. He was dressed in his finest kariginu bearing the Gojo clan symbols against the heron of the Ryomen. His little sister stood beside him, diligently in her silk kimono covered with herons standing above the Gojo family crest. 

The two of them lowered their heads as you passed them by. They seemed somber, but confident. But you had expected that. They loved their father the most in the world. And to leave him in such a state, they did not like it. But they adore you just as much and they will not let you go on your own. Not when you needed them too. You let go of your servant’s hand as you smiled at your husband.

The children and you say your goodbyes to Suzaku as you all prepare to return to Hida. You watch your husband bid farewell to your son and daughter for what you know will be the last time. He embraces them gently, whispering words of love and encouragement, his eyes filled with a deep, unspoken sorrow. Seiryuu tries to be strong, but you can see the tears he struggles to hold back. Your daughter clings to Suzaku, her small frame shaking with sobs.

When it is your turn, you take his hands in yours and press a kiss to them, feeling the warmth and strength that has always comforted you. Your eyes start to water, and you look up at him, seeing your own pain reflected in his eyes. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes.

“You must take care to be well on your travels.” Your husband says to you tenderly, more than he had ever before. You smiled at him. “And make sure you will wear the furs I have arranged for you.”

“I will not forget them.” You promised him. You took his hand on your own. “You must take care of yourself. I won’t be able to do it for you.”

He laughs as he lifts your hand into his and places a kiss upon its palm. “I will always strive to please my wife. I shall.”

Your heart broke at those words. Because you knew that he would not. Not when his plan was in full motion. “I shall see you when I return.”

Gojo Suzaku sends a tight smile at you, one that was all too knowing. “I shall see you too.”

You look towards his hand, eyeing the matching rings upon both your fingers. You lifted your eyes, feeling them water. He squeezes your hand even tighter, as though to tell you to not spill your tears here. Not at this moment. Not in your farewell. You took a deep breath, as though to gather yourself fully.

"I love you, wife. Truly." he whispers, his voice breaking. "More than words can say."

“I love you, with everything in me." you manage to choke out, your tears flowing freely now.

"Be safe," he whispers, his voice breaking. 

He leans in and kisses your cheek one last time, a tender and lingering farewell. You can feel the finality of his touch, the weight of all the unspoken words between you. "I wish you a good journey," he says softly, "and that you will be happy."

You slowly nodded at him, your lip pursing into a tight line. “I will.”

He steps back, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination.  "I shall see you next, wife. One day.”

With a heavy heart, you turn to leave, guiding Masako towards her own litter. Suzaku got atop his horse and turned to look at his father and bowed his head. Masako sat upon her litter and glanced towards her father and waved. As you step inside your own litter, you glance back at Suzaku one last time. He stands there, a faint smile on his lips, his eyes following you with a mixture of love and resignation.

The door of the litter closes, and as it starts to move, the reality of the situation crashes down upon you. The tears you had held back now flow freely, and you start to sob, your shoulders shaking with the force of your grief. The children, sensing your pain, huddle close to you, their own tears mingling with yours.

This was the last time you would see your husband. The man who had been your rock, your partner, your love. As the litter carries you away from him, you clutch at the memories of your time together, vowing to honor his last wishes. The journey ahead seems daunting, but you draw strength from the love you shared, knowing that it will guide you through the days to come.

Suzaku’s smile was his last gift to you.

It will always linger in your mind for years.

When you step into Hida, you fall to your knees. 

The years of peace had disappeared in an instant.

YOU WERE EXHAUSTED. You have not slept day after day. You could not, when there is so much more to be done. Your rest can wait. It had been more than two months now since the Gojo clan was plunged into civil war. You have been raising forces in Hida, ones that you promised to lead personally. For now, your trusted Mikoto Masaomi leads the vanguard that thrusts against possible attacks. 

It still has not hit you that you are now a widow. The news reaches you swiftly upon your arrival in Hida: The departed lord of the Gojo, Gojo Suzaku had used all his remaining strength to kill his cousins, their entire bloodline, and all those who conspired against him. The rest of those bloody traitors had gone and ran amok, but soon enough, your husband had died alone. You were certain that his body had been exhausted from all of it. And in the aftermath, Those treacherous letchers had usurped everything. Those loyal to your son had begun gathering in Hida, planning an offense to reclaim what rightfully belonged to Seiryuu.

The young rightful lord of the Gojo. young Gojo Seiryuu had been most inconsolable about his father's death. He refused to see anyone, even you. Guilt and grief gnawed at the young Gojo lordling, and he withdrew further into himself with each passing day. Masako, your daughter, continued to ask for her father, crying bitter tears when you had no answer for her. 

You grieved your husband as much as you could, but there was no time to rest. There was no space for you to show your grief too clearly. Not when there is a need to move. If you do not move further, you could lose everything. And even more, your children could lose their lives. You would not let that happen. Not over your dead body. 

As you sit in your chambers, the weight of your responsibilities pressing heavily on your shoulders. You write over and over to all your allies, trying to gather their support. The Inumaki as always were loyal to the Gojo and the Ryomen. You were seeking out the Azuma, another vassal of the Gojo, but there has yet to be a response. You could feel your head hurt. The voices in your head whispering the thoughts of a devil. But you would not succumb. You cannot. But then, a knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. You turn your head, seeing long dark hair peer through the doors.

“Mother?” Masako’s small voice trembles from the other side.

“Daughter, it is late.” You whisper at her.

“I…I cannot sleep.” Her little voice admits to you tenderly.

You sighed and smiled at her. “Come in, little one.”

The door opens, and Masako enters, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She clutches a worn, little doll to her chest, her small frame trembling. You brush away the stray hairs that mar her eyes. She sniffs as she looks at you and you could not help but let out a small smile at her. She’s been having nightmares, you remembered. It hasn’t been easy on her lately, more so with those nightmares come in reminders of her own late father.

“Mother, where is father?” she asks again, her voice breaking. “Why won’t he come back?”

You swallow hard, forcing back your own tears as you hold her closer to you. “Masako, my darling girl, your father has gone to a place where we cannot follow. But he is watching over us, always.”

“But I miss him, mother.” she sobs, burying her face in your shoulder.

“I miss him too,” you whisper, holding her close. “But we must be strong. For him, and for Seiryuu.”

As you comfort Masako, a servant appears at the door, bowing respectfully. “My lady, the loyalists have gathered in the main hall. They await your instructions.”

You nod, rising to your feet and taking Masako’s hand. “Thank you. I will be there shortly.”

The servant leaves, and you turn to Masako, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “Stay here, my love. I must attend to something important.”

Masako nods reluctantly, her grip tightening on her toy. “Please come back soon, Mother.”

“I will,” you promise, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

In the main hall, the loyalists look to you with a mixture of hope and desperation. They need guidance, a plan, a way to reclaim their home and secure Seiryuu’s rightful place as the head of the Gojo clan.

“Thank you all for gathering here,” you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. “We face a grave threat, but we are not without hope. My husband, lord Gojo Suzaku, sacrificed everything to protect this clan. Now, it is our duty to honor his legacy and fight for Seiryuu.”

A murmur of agreement ripples through the room, the tension palpable. The loyalists, a mix of seasoned warriors and young recruits, shift uneasily on their feet. Their faces are a tapestry of determination, fear, and hope. Some exchange glances, silently communicating their resolve and apprehensions. The flickering torchlight casts dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the somber atmosphere.

As you scan the room, you see familiar faces—men and women who have stood by your side through countless battles and hardships. Their loyalty is unwavering, but the uncertainty of the future weighs heavily on everyone. The silence that follows is thick, filled with unspoken fears and the gravity of the situation.

An older warrior, his hair streaked with silver, steps forward. His eyes are steely with conviction, but there is a softness in his gaze as he looks at you. "My lady, we have followed Suzaku through many trials. We will follow you and Seiryuu now. We are ready to fight for what is rightfully ours."

His words act as a catalyst, breaking the tension. Others nod, some murmuring agreements more audibly now. The room seems to draw in a collective breath, preparing for the arduous journey ahead.

“We must be strategic,” you continue. “We will reclaim what is ours, but we must do so wisely. Seiryuu will need our strength, our unity. Together, we can overcome this.”

One of the loyalists steps forward, his expression resolute. “We are ready to follow you, my lady. What are your orders?”

You take a deep breath, drawing on the strength Suzaku always saw in you. “Prepare our defenses and gather intelligence on the usurpers’ movements. We will strike when the time is right. For now, we must fortify Hida and protect Seiryuu.”

As plans are set into motion, you feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. You must be hopeful. You felt your age echo throughout your bones. It is as if you had aged a thousand years. As you walked towards the outer halls, you crossed your arms. You should have brought a padded haori. But you wanted to have this moment. You wanted to enjoy your lonesomeness. You wanted to have a moment to accept the reality you now faced.

You could feel the chilly air stab through your skin like sharp needles. There is no time to rest, but in the quiet moments, you allow yourself to grieve. In this moment, you let yourself take a deep breath and still yourself to your reality.  to remember the love and strength that Suzaku gave you. And with each passing day, you steel yourself for the battles ahead, determined to see Seiryuu restored to his rightful place. Looking at the far away moon, you pray that you could be successful. That you will succeed in honoring Suzaku’s memory and fight for your family’s future.

You blink as you still yourself. You were wondering if you were seeing an illusion. You stayed as you were as he observed you with those dark red irises. You purse your lips as your arms crossed against your chest, as though to shield yourself. You knew he would never hurt you. But you wanted to protect yourself. You were the most vulnerable you ever were. Before you could catch yourself, you found him standing before you. You lift your head to observe him. He has not changed. He still looked as he did years ago. He has not aged. 

He does not say a word to you as he sheds his haori off his prodigious body. Slowly, his four arms placed it around your shoulders. It was too big on you, you think. It covered almost all of you as a whole. But it was warm, as he always was. Sukuna watched as your hands dragged it closer to you, as though to secure it in place. 

“You’re foolish to not bring a cover for yourself.” Those were the first words he had for you in these many years. 

"Why have you come?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Even a runaway scum can come home when he misses home." he replies, his tone carrying a hint of melancholy. “Is that wrong?”

"You were never a runaway scum." you say softly, looking into his eyes. "Just a lost soul."

A pregnant silence passes between you, filled with unspoken emotions and shared history. The air is thick with memories, both bitter and sweet, that hang heavily in the space between you. The faint sound of the night—a distant owl hooting, the rustle of leaves in the wind—provides a stark contrast to the silent conversation unfolding in your hearts.

Your eyes meet, and in that moment, so much is conveyed without a single word. The pain of separation, the lingering affection, the regrets of things left unsaid. Sukuna's gaze is intense, yet there's a softness there that you've rarely seen. It's as if he's laying bare his soul, exposing the vulnerability he keeps so well hidden.

You remember the first time you met, the awkward yet exhilarating beginnings of your friendship. The battles fought side by side, the nights spent in quiet companionship, the stolen glances and fleeting touches that spoke of something deeper. All these memories swirl around you, forming an invisible bond that time and distance have never truly severed.

Sukuna shifts slightly, his posture stiff yet somehow more open than before. You can almost hear the words he's not saying, the apologies, the admissions of guilt and longing. Your own heart aches with the weight of unexpressed feelings. You want to tell him everything—how you missed him, how his absence left a void that nothing else could fill, how despite everything, you never stopped caring.

But the silence holds you captive, a barrier of fear and uncertainty. What if these words break the fragile peace between you? What if they open old wounds that have barely begun to heal?

Sukuna breaks the silence, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "I'm sorry for your loss."

You turn to face him fully, searching his face. "Do you mean it?"

He sighs, his gaze unwavering. "I did not like your husband, but he took care of you. And for me, that was the most important thing."

Your eyes fill with fresh tears at his words, the sincerity in them undeniable. "Thank you." you say, your voice trembling. "It means a lot to hear you say that."

Silence passes between the two of you. Tears pass through your eyes in an outburst, almost like the heightening tides of the seas in a storm. 

Sukuna reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder. "You've been through so much. More than anyone should have to endure."

"You've been gone for so long," you say, your voice cracking. "And now everything is falling apart. The clan is in chaos, Seiryuu is lost in his grief, and Masako cries every night for her father."

You sigh wearily, taking a good look at Sukuna for the first time in a long time. He stands there, the same as you remember, unchanged by time. Despite everything, you manage a small smile. "You haven’t aged a day since I last saw you."

He tilts his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Jujutsu does have quite a lot of mysteries."

"You look as you did years ago," he says, his voice softer than usual.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Come up with a better lie, Sukuna. I continue to age, but you do not. You’ll outlive me soon enough."

For the first time, you see a flicker of emotion in Sukuna’s eyes. His usual mask of indifference slips, revealing a vulnerability you had never witnessed before. The realization that perhaps he does not think you could ever truly die and leave his life completely lingers in the air, unspoken but palpable.

It hurts him to see you like this. But he cannot let you know that. You would carry that weight with you and he does not want that. As he looked at you, he could see the life that he lives for. The moonlight shone all around you with a beautiful gleam. Nearly twenty years had passed and in all those years that grew within your human flesh, there will always be the soul he had fallen in love with. You were easily recognizable. And he would always choose you over the world.

There were times where Sukuna thought that you were just a pure creature who fell from the heavens and was lost in hell with him. Even after all this time, even as you had grown older, you still wanted to meet him. You would never shun him. Even if he chooses to stay away, you would let him return here, in this paradise. 

Even if he tried to lead you out of it, you would never leave. The demon he is, he could never escape his love for you either. as much as you would never escape your love for him. Over and over, he believes it as much as you probably do. He will always fall in love with you over and over again.

He looks away for a moment, composing himself. "You are stronger than you think, you know." he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reach out and place a hand on his arm, a small smile on your lips. "And you, Sukuna, are not as invincible as you believe."

He meets your gaze again, the intensity in his eyes softened by a hint of something deeper—regret, perhaps, or a fear of losing the one connection he has left.

"I’ve missed you." he admits, the words heavy with unspoken emotions.

"And I’ve missed you." you reply, your voice tender.

You smile at him like you used to, a gesture both familiar and foreign after all this time. It's a smile tinged with a hint of nostalgia, a softening of the edges that have formed between you over the years of separation. In that moment, the weight of the past seems to lift, leaving only the echo of what once was.

Your smile is a silent invitation, a bridge across the chasm that has grown between you. It speaks of shared memories, of laughter and camaraderie, of moments that time has not yet erased. It's a reminder of the connection you once shared, a glimmer of hope that perhaps it's not too late to reclaim what was lost.

For Sukuna, your smile is like a balm to his wounded soul. It's been so long since he's seen that smile directed at him, so long since he's felt the warmth of your affection. It stirs something deep within him, a longing that he thought he had buried long ago. In that fleeting moment, he allows himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could go back to how they used to be.

As he returns your smile, there's a softness in his eyes, a vulnerability that he rarely lets show. It's a silent admission of the myriad emotions swirling within him—regret, longing, hope. In that shared moment, you both let go of the barriers that have kept you apart, if only for a moment.

The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. It's a moment frozen in time, a brief respite from the chaos of your lives. And in that moment, as you smile at each other like you used to, you both know that no matter what the future holds, this connection between you will endure.

"You’ll outlive me soon enough," you say, the words laced with a hint of jest, but the weight of their truth hangs heavily on your heart. You don’t say it out loud, though. Instead, you offer him a gentle smile, a feeble attempt to alleviate the tension that simmers between you. “Time touches everything, but you, it would seem.”

"Don't say that," he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with a hint of desperation.

You pause, taken aback by the raw emotion in his tone. It's a rare moment of vulnerability from Sukuna, a crack in the facade he wears so meticulously. You meet his gaze, seeing something akin to fear flicker in his eyes—fear of losing you, fear of facing a future without your presence.

The contrast between your aging form and his eternal youth is a constant reminder of the passage of time, of the inevitability of mortality. It's a bitter truth that you both silently acknowledge, yet neither dares to confront head-on.

For the first time in a long time, you see beyond Sukuna’s stoic exterior, glimpsing the depth of his emotions beneath the surface. It's a revelation that leaves you reeling, realizing just how much he has come to rely on your presence in his life, whether he admits it or not.

Perhaps he has never truly considered the possibility of you leaving him, of your life coming to an end while his continues on unchanged. The thought is both comforting and terrifying, a reminder of the fragility of your mortal existence in contrast to his immortal nature.

As the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in the air, you reach out, tentatively placing a hand on his arm. It's a silent gesture of reassurance, a reminder that even as time marches on and lives change, your connection remains unbroken.

“You will live a long life, I am certain.”

He looks at you, something unreadable in his gaze. "I don’t care about that. I care that you are with me now.”

"For as long as I can be, do not be greedy." you reply softly, as though telling him off. "But someday, I won’t be."

His expression hardens slightly, a defense mechanism against the pain your words bring. "I won’t let that happen." he says, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might make it true.

"You can’t stop time, Sukuna. Never." you say gently, turning to him with a small smile. 

"You were right," Sukuna finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. But he wishes you weren’t. He wishes he could change the inevitable, alter the course of fate so that he could keep you with him always. In that moment, he longs to lock away the world, to shield you from the passage of time and the cruelty of mortality. Even after all this time, his desire to be with you burns as fiercely as ever. But deep down, he knows that you would never allow it.

Silence once more envelops your world, a heavy shroud that settles between you. It's a silence pregnant with unspoken truths and unfulfilled desires, a reminder of the chasm that separates your two worlds. Despite the ache in his heart, Sukuna knows that he cannot defy the laws of nature, cannot change the fundamental truths that govern your existence.

And so, he remains silent, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of longing and resignation. He knows that even as he yearns to keep you by his side, to hold onto you with a desperation born of centuries of solitude, he must accept that some things are beyond his control. Your mortality is one such thing, a barrier that he cannot hope to overcome no matter how much he wishes otherwise.

In that moment, as you stand together beneath the moonlit sky in silence, Sukuna realizes that his love for you is both a blessing and a curse. He knows that one day, it will make him feel worse. More so when you are gone. It would fill him with a warmth and a joy that he has not known all his life, yet it also brings him anguish and a despair he had known all his life — threatening to consume him whole. 

Sukuna's gaze doesn't waver, his determination unwavering. "I may not be under your command anymore," he replies, his voice low and steady, "but that doesn't mean I can't help you."

You pause, considering his words carefully. Despite the years that have passed and the distance that now separates you, Sukuna's offer of assistance stirs something within you—a flicker of hope in the darkness of uncertainty. It was tempting. But you know you cannot. He does not belong to you anymore.

"I appreciate the offer, Sukuna," you say, your voice tinged with gratitude, "but this is something I must face on my own."

He steps closer, his expression unwavering. “Even if you say that, I can never change when it comes to you. I only ever think about you. And any threat to you—”

A sad smile touches your lips as you interject. “Sukuna, you must free yourself from me before it’s too late. I’m a lost cause, a mortal with fleeting time. Don’t saddle yourself with someone like me.”

Sukuna's expression softens, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. He reaches out, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before gently cupping your cheek. "You're not a lost cause," he murmurs, his voice tender yet tinged with resignation. "And I could never think of you as such."

Your heart aches at his words, knowing the truth behind them. Despite the depth of his affection, despite the bond that still ties you together, you cannot deny the vast differences between you—differences that cannot be bridged no matter how much you may wish otherwise.

Taking his hands in yours, you look at him earnestly. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

His grip tightens slightly, a rare show of vulnerability. “I’ll always be with you, on earth and in hell. Anywhere. I shall follow you.”

You turn to him as you blinked. You felt your lips tremble into a laugh. “You will truly be cursed to love me, Sukuna.”

“I know.” He responds nonchalantly, with a shrug. 

“And you do not care?”

“Not in the slightest.”

You squeeze his hands for a moment, as though conveying a message that words cannot express. His gaze meets yours, and you hold his four eyes with your gleaming purple haze. “In my next life, I pray that we never meet again, so that you are free of me.”

For a moment, he stands silent, the weight of your words sinking in. The air around you is heavy with the gravity of your parting, the unspoken farewell hanging between you like a veil of sorrow. Sukuna's expression is unreadable, a mixture of longing and resignation playing across his features.

As the silence stretches on, you can feel the weight of his unspoken response, a silent acknowledgment of your wishes. It's a bittersweet moment, filled with the pain of goodbye and the hope of new beginnings.

Finally, Sukuna breaks the silence, his voice barely a whisper. "That is a cruel wish."

Your heart aches at his response, knowing the truth behind his words. It's a cruel wish indeed, to ask for separation from someone you care for so deeply. Yet, it's a sacrifice you feel compelled to make, for his sake as much as your own.

Sukuna's voice, barely above a whisper, echoes through the quiet space between you. It's laced with a hint of sadness, a silent acknowledgment of the pain of your parting. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between honoring your wishes and the longing to remain by your side.

For a moment, you're lost in the weight of his gaze, the depth of emotion swirling within his four eyes. It's a silent plea, a desperate desire to defy fate and rewrite the script of destiny. But deep down, you know that some things are beyond your control, beyond even the power of a curse.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But it's the only way."

With those words hanging in the air like a lament, you turn away, the ache of goodbye settling heavy in your heart. As you walk away, the weight of Sukuna's unspoken response lingers in the air like a haunting melody, a reminder of the bond that will forever tie you together, no matter how far apart you may be.

Your heart aches at his response, knowing the truth behind his words. It's a cruel wish indeed, to ask for separation from someone you care for so deeply. Yet, it's a sacrifice you feel compelled to make, for his sake as much as your own.

Sukuna's voice, barely above a whisper, echoes through the quiet space between you. It's laced with a hint of sadness, a silent acknowledgment of the pain of your parting. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between honoring your wishes and the longing to remain by your side.

For a moment, you're lost in the weight of his gaze, the depth of emotion swirling within his four eyes. It's a silent plea, a desperate desire to defy fate and rewrite the script of destiny. But deep down, you know that some things are beyond your control, beyond even the power of a curse.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But it's the only way."

With those words hanging in the air like a lament, you removed his haori and returned it to him. He moves, as though to argue but you turn away without another word.The ache of goodbye settling heavy in your heart. As you walk away, the weight of Ryomen Sukuna's unspoken response lingers in the air like a haunting melody, a reminder of the bond that will forever tie you together, no matter how far apart you may be.

Soon enough the winter snows fall.

And you will be cold all over again.

You think of his warmth all over again.

And hope it keeps your sorrows away.

facts about the chapter

i always knew that gojo suzaku was going to die, i just didn't know when he would die. i only thought about killing him when i nded up building the story to this point.

hiromi (you)'s purple eyes continue to turn brighter because the closer you are to the gods, the more the power is there. the more they're brighter. it's why its lilac unlike genmei (also you)'s darker shades.

also, the more you're closer to the gods, the more you are less likely to be bullied by the voices in your head. hiromi only has brief moments where she gets bullied off by the gods because they actually like her unlike genmei.

hiromi is at this point 41 - 42 years old, sukuna is 39 - 40 years old. he stopped aging years ago because he uses his cursed technique to slow down his ageing.

at this point in heian era, seiryuu as a fourteen year old would be considered of age but hiromi (you) really don't think that he's old enough to know what to do and hiromi (you) wants to shield him from all of it.

seiryuu practiced a lot of the reversal techniques that satoru learned years ago. just like satoru, he thinks that the biggest pain in the ass is learn it. seiryuu figured out red and blue later in life and theorized that it's possible to merge them.

hiromi (you)'s current heir to the ryomen name is masako. masako has been under instruction to learn how to be the future ryomen clan leader but she's not interested in it.

the azuma clan is a oc clan under the gojo my friend has made and we sometimes talk about it in like roleplays and i wanted to give a nod to my friend cause their ocs are really cool

it's a common theme between the people who inherit hiromi (you)'s cursed technique to die young because of how much toll it takes on the body to exist. the one in between hiromi and genmei died when she was sixteen, trying to kill off a zenin clan head who tried to subjugate mahoraga.

the upcoming chapter happens in between one or two years, the next chapter is a hundred years later and the last happens in shibuya. its gonna spoil stuff for us and them, but well after this, i have to write us and them.

upcoming chapter also reveals hiromi (you) and genmei (you)'s domain expansion and why both hold back using it in the first place.

next chapter, the family tree of the ryomen will be revealed. this includes all of hiromi's children and other family members. i've kept it from people long enough, so im excited for that too.

[transmascswagpolls]

Transmasc Swag Polls- ROUND 2

CANONICITY LEVELS-

LANQUE: CANON Transgender Troll (and one of the few canon examples of Transmasculine Wrongs) HAJIME: Gender Tomfuckery Propaganda and other info under the cut.

MEDIA? Hiveswap Friendsim and Hiveswap Act 2, Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (and other related media)

LANQUE PROPAGANDA-

we need more problematic trans guy in this poll he is such a little bitch but in an enjoyable way hope he has fun in hatched 2 dance :3

[Pollrunner's Note: He is one of three male Jade trolls in the entire Homestuck series, a blood caste that consists almost entirely of female trolls. One that has HEAVY ties to motherhood and the Christian imagery and ideas of feminimity. Lanque is heavily coded as a vampire- literally meant to be an 'emotional vampire' and everything that represents. He grows up in what is essentially an "all girl's school" and is uncomfortably lumped in with Bronya's grouping of "her girls".

It's never stated in text, but you can very explicitly tell that Lanque is trans because we get to see his chest. Only afab trolls have nipples in Homestuck and one of the cis male trolls in the same game has no nipples to speak of in his shirtless sprite sheet.

One of the game over routes in Hiveswap Act 2 ends after he's confronted with being involved in theft. Since it was meant to be a ploy for him to be able to finally run away, he decides to THROW YOUR CHARACTER OFF OF A MOVING TRAIN.

Literally one of the few canon examples on this poll that truly earns the title of Transmasc Wrongs.]

HAJIME PROPAGANDA-

[Pollrunner's Note: There was a LOT more propaganda then I could feasibly put here. These are the highlights]

While his identity issues mostly revolve around his (lack of) talent it’s not hard to imagine them spreading to other aspects of himself, like his gender. Dresses very masculinely, with a tie and button down shirt (which seems to be a bit tight in the chest, almost like the cut doesn’t fit him quite right).

As for the swag part, hajime is the only danganronpa protagonist who’s able to save all of his friends, plus post-game he has literally every talent ever. he’s also got both a male and female love interest and is well liked by all of his classmates.

in the game you get a file for all character's that has their info, one of the things listed are chest measurements (because the creator is a creep). But anyways, his measurements are the same as the girl with the biggest boobs in the game (36 inches), and is you have them side to side, there's not much difference in width. Also he's very skinny. Plus he has no nipples (nobody does but anyways).

At one point in the game they have to separate between girls and guys to sleep in different buildings, but there's 1 room less than it should be on the boy's building and 1 extra room on the girl side and they have to decide which boy has to sleep in the girl building They end up going with Hajime because he doesn't really mind and the girls agree he's probably the best option.

In chapter 1 he's the one most hesitant to go swim at the beach. It's for plot reasons, but he's still one of the only people who's never seen going to swim for the entire game.

[byjovewhataspend]

Putting on his best outfit to cheer himself up-- it's not really working :(

rambling thoughts about the new manga stuff below

It feels so WILDLY incorrect tonally for none of the villains to be saved. So many people told deku he couldnt save shigaraki and he pushed back against that-- but from any outside view shigaraki dying is the same as Deku killing him, i dont accept 'his ghost smiled so he was saved', afo shattered shigarakis mind the second Tomura's heart wavered and he died instantly (nana saved a little bit of his soul long enough for him to hang out and punch AFO, that had nothing to do with deku)

but the last thing he said before AFO killed him was 'i have to be the hero to the villains' and the last thing he said to deku was essentially 'tell spinner i did was i promised'

but before both of those points almost the entire league (sans compress) is already dead (spinner seems braindead? though the next chapter had people messing with what looked to be his scales so maybe someones working on helping him) so Deku cant tell them anything.

ANYWAYS my 5% hope here, a way to walk this shit back, is that Tomuras quirk 'which used to have a regeneration aspect' regenerated itself and Tomura comes back and Deku gets a second chance to save him for real this time, and then tomura uses the regeneration aspect of his quirk to fix all the rest of the league. he can return Spinner to his old self, and Dabi has GOT to be in that tank in front of Endeavor, right?

(What else in the world does Endeavor have to care about right now except for his family? none of them (or hawks, his only friend) needed a healing tank, so im guessing Dabis horrific husk is in some stasis goo with no hope , spinner is brainded/insane with no hope, toga is probably 'disappeared on the battle field' or maybe in a coma with no hope.. )

((honestly that tank, them not telling us yet if anyones dead (it would be weird to REVEAL people died who we thoughts died on screen a year ago) and the weirdly timed 'tomura couldve been able to regenerate but i removed that' a second before he died are the only reasons i have any hope. im not the hoping type. a series i was interested in ending badly has never been Taken Back before))

i dont know if That Person is Tomura (it didnt LOOK like him, not at all, honestly they looked like a woman to me, but who the fuck knows when they are doing Anime Crazy Face) but it feels like the only way to walk any of this back.

They put so much emotional stuff onto tomura and then gave him the worlds clearest 'he never had any choice to be this way' backstory EVER (even his BIRTH was arranged by AFO thats so fucked up, i wouldnt be shocked if he bought him the dog he killed too) that the ONLY doubt i had that Deku would save him was in that i wasn't sure how youd arrange to keep him out of prison for life. Id been guessing 'rewound to childhood to get a second chance at a better one' (not great but hey, it beats dead or tartaras and it matches that opening i liked) but hey, if hes Confirmed Dead and Deku finds someone Similiar To Him but with Fixing Powers and is liek 'hey everyone this is my brother Tenko my american dad just brought him over isnt that great?' id fucking take it

ALSO plucking Eris horn off so that she wasnt an option anymore like.. from a writing standpoint feels like it has to be FOR something.

Finally: deku looked SO depressed in the most recent chapter. he looked miserable. he hardly spoke a fucking word. considering how he acted about Eri i cant imagine hes the type to be like 'whelp, failed to save those people, i guess ill save a random different person in the final arc and thatll help me get over it'. truly i think if deku to failed to save tomura he'd spend the rest of his life not feeling like a real hero. especially when he checks to complete tomuras wish and spinner cant get his final words? and togas final words to deku was that she liked him and then he ran off and she died?? just. no. it feels so tragic and dark.

i do NOT believe horikoshi has that much creative control, honestly, i feel like if he had complete control he wouldnt kill tomura (since hes written a Tenko into like all his other stories and he loves him) but a small glimmer of hope is Dabi getting fuckign 4th place in the popularity results after he'd already become the most dead looking fucker i have ever seen. SURELY management knows hes popular and would be open to them being saved and redeemed just for BRANDING purposes, right?

PS: everyones been joking but he horikoshi SAID we'd see dekus FUCKING DAD. what possible purpose could that man serve when he wasnt even watching deku lose his arms on international tv?? if its as a cover for bringing tomura back ill fucking take it.

[gotham-daydreams]

i’ve been rereading your not [] series and WOWOWOWOWOW i love it sm. the writing? mwah chefs kiss 🤌🏽 the soul crushing loneliness is felt throughout the whole series and as the reader i can really feel every single emotion y/n goes through while reading it’s amazing. i’m excited for part three to see how it all goes down most importantly y/n’s reaction. i can only imagine the intense anger they’ll probably have after getting taken back to the manor. they’ll be angry cuz of the kidnapping thing but also it took them going missing for their family to acknowledge them. that’s a whole different type of anger and frustration. trying practically all your life to get your family’s attention, to them notice your there, all for it to be vain but the moment you’re gone and don’t exist, just like they’ve been treating your whole life, suddenly they notice. they felt guilty after realizing the damage they’ve done to you and just NOW they want to fix even though you’ll probably be carrying the trauma of the neglect for life so what’s the point of trying to fix it now? especially at this big age? the anger y/n must feel at this is insane. there’s also the fact that if y/n *does* want to give in to the sudden affection there’s that fear they’ll just leave again. they get kidnapped, imprison in what was their once home with high security, are being bomb with a bunch of love from their family they’ve never received before and then suddenly it’s gone, all their left with is just their freedom being taken away. y/n most likely feels intense anger, maybe even hatred, at their current actions but also fear of their future ones. it’s the perfect soup of angst and mannnn i’m eating it up.

sorry for the ramble i just wanted to let out my thoughts on your series but to sum it up i LOOVE your series and i’m patiently waiting for your next chapter to continue to see what of y/n’s fate becomes 🫶🏽

I'm so glad you're enjoying the series!!! And oh my god I love your interpretation as well!!!

As I've kind of stated/hinted at through various posts (I promise a masterlist will be made soon because there is a lot of things now that are piling up-), I don't really tend for Y/n in the "Not [ ]" series to get kidnapped just yet (not in part 3 anyways), but I think we all know that it's bound to happen considering things. And it will!

Honestly, I think a lot of people are kind of overestimating how 'loud' Y/n's anger, frustration, hurt, and pain will be in part 3, and it does make me a little worried about the reception of it. However, depending on one's interpretation, what the reader does instead can make the angst that much heavier. Because, well. They don't get that 'relief' that can sometimes come with shouting out your problems to the world- especially to the person that caused you such pain for such a long time, as it is also kind of acts like an unmistakable "hey!!! i'm fucked up and it's all your fault!!! i'll never forgive you for this and want nothing to do with you!!!" message. Though it is a mix within itself.

However, you are right, honestly!

Y/n in the start of the "Not [ ]" series is upset enough. Not only towards the family, but all the time they feel like they've wasted to try and just have a chance to just... get something they never had. All they wanted was a relationship, some kind of connection with anyone in the family besides Alfred, anything. Which is also mentioned in "Not Tonight" as there is that repeating theme/mention of Y/n doing too much but receiving so little, if not, nothing at all, for their efforts.

So just knowing that — as you've said — it basically took them essentially 'giving up' and being gone for months, for the Batfam to notice them? To try and even attempt to give not even half of what the reader had tried to before? Yet was rejected at every twist and turn? Up until this point?

Yeah, no. Y/n is plenty pissed, and incredibly hurt. Among other things as it's just... too little too late. Way too late.

Yet why I also say that I feel as if others overestimate how Y/n is going to express their anger, and how loud about it they're going to be, is because... well- this is a small kind of character spoiler, I guess, but they feel so detached from the family that the very thought of the Batfam even looking for them, is unfathomable. They don't realize at first how the Batfam is looking for them (despite the obvious signs), because it's never happened before, not even on accident.

They never got saved when they got into fights. They never got help when shit got tough. They were never heard, seen or even acknowledged in the house besides Alfred unless they initiated the 'conversation'. Why would they think that anyone who's acted to them like that, and wouldn't even let them exist in their space for a few minutes, go out searching for them? To put in even the smallest effort towards finding them — and because they were worried for Y/n's health no less — and not because they were the absolute last resort? They wouldn't. They don't.

It's a part of why part 3 goes the way it does, but again-its a part. The other pieces make it bad as well. Though that's all the spoilers I'm willing to give on that, which will go more indepth in part 3 itself (hopefully).

Basically, Y/n is a mess. Everyone is in a way, and that's what makes everything go to hell.

Y/n is angry, yes, but it starts quiet before it gets loud. Along with everything else.

So if and when Y/n does get kidnapped... hm.

I did say in a previous ask that depending on how it goes that Y/n would fight back if they're able to and such depending on how the kidnapping itself goes. And though I won't say much on Y/n's reaction in case it does go into future parts if more than 4 are made, I will say that you're right to assume that Y/n is incredibly pissed. You're also right on the whole idea with them being worried about the family basically neglecting them all over again, when everything is said and done. And that's great!

It's a mix. A whole push-and-pull deal where, yeah, even if more shit hits the fan- their own trauma will, in a way, protect them as well as make their life more miserable than it already is. Y/n'll probably never be able to naturally get close with the Batfam, not without 'help' anyway.

But these are yanderes. Their definition of 'help' is a little... twisted.

Though, yeah! And don't worry about rambling- I clearly do the same seeing as I think this whole post is almost just as long as what you wrote. So it's fine! If anything I really did enjoy reading it! Seeing all these different interpretations, and thoughts about the series and other things is incredibly interesting and I love it a lot! Especially with Part 3 on the rise.

[lazysublimeengineer]

Reo and Isagi: An Intriguing Line Between Rivalry and Camaraderie

I was in the middle of doing something when I've received a notification from one of my long lost readers who decided to pop up into one of my stories again and left a feedback.

To my pleasant surprise it's one of ages ago finished fics of mine from this fandom. It's finished a long time ago and seeing someone reading it and leaving a review makes me think of these two characters again that fascinated me when I was starting to delve more into this franchise:

Reo and Isagi.

I remembered back then on how I was solely focused on Chigiri's character when I was reading the manga and watching the anime because of how mysterious he was and how he got one of the most enthralling yet tragic backstory in the franchise. But my attention was caught between these two during the second selection because probably it's one of the most dramatic things I've seen in the series. A lot of things had been happening in that period that's probably you can see in a normal conflicts of teenage boys.

I do admit at first that I didn't have any favorable impression of Reo and Nagi because of how arrogant they are and so full of themselves. I guess that's the quirks of being a naturally skilled and talented person. But anyway, the characterizations of these characters are being driven and push over the edge during the second selection. Seeing Reo displayed a multitude of warring emotions and thoughts when Nagi left to join Isagi's team is an interesting concept.

Because you have here is a rich, confident, smart kid who always makes strategic decisions in life except for his treasured friend and he loses his rationality and a storm of emotions has influenced his actions mostly throughout the second selection.

He was brooding and he's a lot more introspective in that period which is fascinating because we were given by the author another side of him which is in stark contrast to his usual affable and charismatic facade with other people.

A lot of things had been bothering him to say the least. But the highlight of his character was how he was conflicted with everything. He was angry with Nagi for leaving him. He developed a misplaced anger towards Isagi because he blamed him for splitting them apart. But most of all he was angry with himself for being weak and was always wondering if he wasn't weak then Nagi wouldn't leave him.

The way that the author had displayed his vulnerability makes him one of the most intriguing character because of how "human" he was. His brooding era became a running joke to the fandom when in reality his reaction is the usual reaction of a teenage, highschool person who felt betrayed by their friend leaving him for another person without any preamble or whatsoever.

The conversation between him and Isagi in the monitor room during chapter 96 has got to be one of the most memorable to me because of how sincere and honest it was but at the same time in the end you were left there wondering if they become friends at that point because as a reader you can't pinpoint it was.

They both have trouble picking a team which opened a can of worms between the two of them and how Reo was serenely downcast in his admission if he can still play alongside Nagi with him because he was getting further away from him in skills and talent inside the program. It was also interesting to note of Isagi's reaction towards it, of how he came to an understanding of him as a person and how he'd come to light with his own predicament and even thanking him in the end.

It was a simple but compelling scene between the two of them because of how it drives their character more towards the realization of each other's motivations and purpose in the program.

But the ambiguity of their relationship remains to be seen because you cannot categorized them as being too close with each other unlike with their other friends such as with Chigiri, Bachira Kunigami, Nagi etc.

And that's what's fascinating about these two.

They still oscillate between the lines of rivalry and camaraderie even now in the recent arc of the franchise.

It was painted in a subtle manner. It's not an overt rivalry or any sort of relationship that the reader can categorized easily and that's what it becomes an interest to a writer like me to explore it a bit more vividly during my early heydays in being an active writer between these two characters.

I remembered this reader asking me if I'm going to write for these two again and who knows?

Only time can tell if my Muse will be inspired enough to go back to their fascinating relationship with each other.

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 9.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

Warnings For This Chapter: Making Out, Pet Names, Praise, Jeongguk Has A Tongue Ring, Daddy Kink, Cunnilingus, Big Dick!Jeongguk, Begging, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie

By the time you got home from the long night of social interactions with people who count money like sheep, it was just simply too dark to drive further from your mansion to take Jeongguk back home to his apartment.

It's not that you couldn't drive but then the rainstorm began and it wouldn't be safe with the slippery roads.

So now as it strikes one in the morning Jeon Jeongguk is paralyzed with fear to even be in your mansion at such a late hour.

"So where am I even supposed to sleep?" he inquires softly.

He sounds almost like a lost, scared child looking for his parents.

And you would feel bad for him if it wasn't hilarious and he wasn't almost thirty years old.

"Well none of the guest rooms have furniture so either on the couch that's harder than a rock or in my bed. Your choice, really," you reply, pulling your gloves slowly off your arms.

He opens his mouth to respond before tilting his head to look at the artistic couch down below the banister of the second floor, his eyebrows notch and he groans long and low at the prospect.

"I can't sleep in your bed! I'd be violating your privacy!" he guffaws, shaking his head sternly as if to wipe away any bad thoughts.

"Guk, the bed is from wall to wall. You don't have to sleep on top of me. You'll fall asleep and won't even remember a thing," you promise, unzipping the back of your dress and stepping into your closet.

"But…But… Why don't you have any furniture in your rooms anyway?!"

He sounds nervous and anxious, a sign that just screams to you that he might actually enjoy it if he just allows himself to.

When his eyes rake over the smooth skin of your back, the wildest of thoughts flit through his brain and he really loses all sense of self then.

"Because I don't want people staying over… duh," you chirp, stripping out of your dress.

"But I'm an exception?! You have no backbone!" Jeongguk scoffs, folding his arms childishly.

When he notices that he can catch the reflection of you getting naked in one of the glass doors that house your couture gowns, he wrestles with himself for a moment before turning to face the large fish tank at the end of the long hall.

"You sound embarrassed," you tease, grabbing your nightgown.

When you slip it over your head, your eye catches your shortest nightgown and you freeze.

You haven't had fun in a long time, probably longer than what most doctors would consider to be normal. So maybe tonight, just tonight, you'll have some fun.

"I'm not embarrassed! I could sleep next to you just fine! I just-just… It's not right! It'd be taking advantage!"

"It's not taking advantage," you counter, stepping outside of your closet, "and if you feel that way then you could sleep on the floor."

"I'm not gonna sleep on the floor! It's marbl-"

Jeongguk stops mid-sentence to choke on his own spit as you step in front of him. Your nightgown is incredibly short, the rich lace hem landing right below the curve of your ass. As for your breasts, well, he's lucky your nipples are covered.

With his eyes widening to the size of saucers, he opts to staring up at the ceiling.

"I think you're a baby," you tease, heading off towards your bedroom.

With every step you take, his eyes seem to become grounded more and more until they're watching your hips sway with criminal intent towards the room that has brought this panic on to begin with.

"Change," he begs, his voice sounding weak.

If his body did what it wanted without the help of his brain, he'd be crashing to his knees and crawling toward you begging to let him have any inch of you that you'd offer him.

"No, you're a baby," you giggle, entering your room.

"But-"

"Guk, it's just sleep. It's almost two in the morning. I'm exhausted. You can either sleep with me or on the floor, it's up to you but I'm laying down now."

The handsome escort makes his second fatal mistake by watching you crawl into bed. Your breasts sway and you look at him with these doe-like eyes that make his legs go weak.

Luckily, he's holding himself upright as he leans against the doorjamb.

"I'm not staring at you all night as you loom over me in the distance like some kind of fever dream monster or something," you sigh, laying down on your side and putting your arm beneath your pillow for comfort.

"God!" the handsome man complains, walking over to the bed beside you.

He begins to strip off his clothes, revealing more and more of his golden toned skin that sings with black and grey ink.

He's staring at you hoping you don't stare at him but you do. Your eyes are becoming less and less dead by the second, every time a new ab is revealed your head is even lifting up off of the pillow.

"I thought you were tired?" Guk chuckles.

Now it's your turn to get defensive.

"I am! I'm not looking at you!" you retort, turning away from him with pinched eyebrows.

Now he's got his confidence back.

When you're flustered it's easier for him to play around, he's not used to being flustered himself.

"Come on, baby," he purrs playfully, crawling into bed behind you and pressing his bare chest to your back, "kiss me."

"God! Go sleep on the floor!" you hiss, squeezing your eyes shut and shimmying down the bed away from him.

His chuckle is deep and delighted, almost carefree to the point of dangerousness.

"That…" he begins, wrapping his arm around your stomach and pressing his lips to your ear, "would be uncomfortable. You were right, it's just sleep. I can stay the night in bed with you."

His cologne is still pleasant and it tickles your senses to have him so close.

Guk's arm is warm and comforting around you, not so much claustrophobic as you would have assumed.

The air is turning into something tumultuous, something powerful and Earth shatteringly dangerous.

You're getting turned on.

You can feel every inch of his hard muscled chest and stomach digging into your scantily clad back and the escort is doing nothing to stop it.

"I'm not paying you for this," you remind him, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it to your front for comfort.

"You're not paying me at all, Y/N," he counters, closing his eyes, "If you want me to stop, just say so. I respect that no means no."

But you don't utter a word.

Jeongguk shifts closer, allowing you to feel the effect you have on him.

The globes of your ass are supple against his hips and you can feel his erection digging into you for relief.

Your lips open in surprise but you only squeeze your eyes tighter.

"You don't fuck clients," you whisper, gripping the pillow against your chest harder.

"No," he agrees, drifting his lips over the shell of your ear slowly, "you're not paying me, you're not my client, baby."

Jeongguk fucking wants this. He's throwing caution to the wind, he might be making a hell of a mistake but he'll take that on the chin too.

He knows you both have a connection, he knows he's into you and he thinks you're pretty into him too.

"Do you not want me to touch you, Wednesday?" he asks seriously, sitting up on his elbow.

"No," you answer immediately.

"Okay," he breathes, pulling away from you.

You shimmy your way farther across the bed before the encroaching loneliness begins to eat at you again.

When Guk is around you, you don't have time to feel it.

So all you do is pout.

You're confused! You don't know what to do! You want to be happy and live in lalaland but can you really indulge in that?!

"Yes," you say in the silent bedroom.

The escort is on you in a matter of moments, pressing his full lips to yours in a searingly hot kiss.

Your hands tangle into his black locks and you tug softly. He hums against you greedily, the sound sending tingles through your limbs at a satisfying pace.

"C'mere, c'mere," he hisses, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you up into his lap.

He feels like a drug addict, he's strung out on you and he needs more to function

Your legs wrap around his waist and when you whimper against his lips, his eyes roll back.

"Is this expensive?" he inquires, wrapping his fingers in the spaghetti straps of your nightgown.

"Yes," you answer, pulling away from him.

"Oh, good," he breathes, tugging roughly and feeling the fabric turn to strings before him.

He lays you down softly, watching how your hair billows out around you in tendrils on your pillow. Guk stays nestled between your thighs, running a free hand over your skin.

"You're so smooth and soft," he groans, pulling the useless fabric away from your body to see all of you.

At this moment, you want to cover up and hide. You want to push him off and just curl into the fetal position.

He can see that. He can see the sudden fright in his eyes and his heart hurts at the sight.

"I'm right here, just focus on me," he whispers, pulling at your hands until he lays them flat against his chest.

Your nails dig into his skin softly and the hiss he gives, the way his hips rut to yours on instinct has you distracted all over again.

Finally, he lets his eyes travel down your body.

"God, you're perfect," he mumbles, cupping your breasts.

"Guk, I-I don't know. I'm not… I don't…" you whisper, looking up at him.

When his mocha irises meet yours, they soften. "We can stop, do you want to stop, baby?"

He goes to retract his hands but the prospect of not having him might eat you alive more than if you do.

"I don't know," you answer honestly.

"That's not an answer," he chuckles, leaning down and kissing you softly.

His tongue fights for dominance with yours and it wins so easily that you can feel the ice cold walls around your heart melt within seconds.

You don't want to stop.

But you're scared.

So you're truthful with him and you voice it.

"I'm not going anywhere, Wednesday. I'm not Jasper. I'm here with you, I'm not leaving," he promises.

He's so confident and so heartfelt with his words that you just let yourself be.

You don't want to be this person anymore.

You aren't this person with Jeongguk and you really like that.

He makes you forget heartache and pain, he makes you forget anger and emptiness.

"Do you want this?" he asks, brushing some stray hairs from your face.

"Yes," you nod, giving a shaky breath.

His smile is wide and beaming and he caresses your cheek with the softest touch.

"Good girl," he praises softly, going back to his earlier route.

The praise has your mind spinning, like you're on some kind of serotonin drug.

His hands cup your breasts and he can only compliment them as his lips trail down your neck. "You've got a gorgeous body, Wednesday."

His thumbs flick at your hardening nipples and your back arches with a whimper that sounds so odd tumbling from your lips.

"That's it, gorgeous," Guk hisses, wrapping his perfect lips around your pert nipple.

He hasn't touched a woman in ages either,  he himself hasn't been touched in what feels like years.

The escort wants this so badly, he can't even remind himself to pace himself, he just needs you, he just wants you so badly that it feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

"Say my name," he whispers, moving to your unattended breast and flicking your nipple with the tip of his tongue.

The action sends shivers up your spine and you cry out softly for more.

"Jeongguk!"

His eyes flutter closed at the sincerity of the word and he's all but ready to just give his whole self to you.

He could fall in love with you right now if he's not careful.

One hand continues to play with your breast, pinching and plucking at you until you're short of breath while the other rips your satin underwear away from your core with ease.

"Oh my God," you gasp, putting your head back and squeezing your eyes shut.

The escort kisses down your stomach until his arms are wrapping around your thighs to cage you into a device of his making.

He licks his lips, ogling how much arousal has made you a sodden mess before him and he wants to scream to Heavens to thank them for this opportunity.

"You okay?" Guk inquires sweetly, kissing from your knee to your inner thigh.

"Y-Yeah," you breathe, lifting up on your elbows.

"Good," he hisses, licking a flat stripe up your folding.

Your hands grip at the sheets, mouth dropping open at how warm and wet his mouth is.

"Tongue ring or no tongue ring?" he asks, letting his tongue hang past his lips.

"J-... I-... What?!" you whine, bunching your hands up in his hair.

His smirk is devilish and he chuckles deeply. "Tongue ring it is."

He begins to devour you, suckling and licking at your slit like a man possessed and you crash back down to the bed with moans ripping from your throat.

"Oh fuck! Guk!" you cry out, tugging roughly in his hair.

"Call me daddy," he murmurs, wrapping his lips around your swollen nub.

You're so blissed out that you can't even process his words but you still do as told. "Daddy! Oh my God!"

"Good girl," Guk breathes, inching two fingers towards your entrance.

Your lungs heave with heavy breaths and you watch with rapid fascination as he inches his fingers inside of you.

"You're fucking tight," Jeongguk groans heartily, attaching his lips back to your clit.

He fucks his fingers into you quickly, subsiding the burn of the stretch immediately.

Your legs tingle with pleasure and your toes curl, your mind is jumbled up and all you can feel is this deep ache within your stomach getting bigger and bigger.

When you had sex before, Jasper never looked up at you. He never even went down on you usually but Jeongguk is so present with you.

He stares up at you like he wants to see your pleasure, he wants to treasure this moment. He adores how you writhe and moan for him, he wants you to give everything over to him.

There's adoration in his eyes and you've never seen that before so it pushes you towards the precipice even faster.

He fucks his fingers into you dilligently, groaning at your taste and how loud your moans are that echo off the mansion walls.

"Give it to me, baby," he seethes through his teeth, "I can feel your pussy begging for it."

The handsome man between your legs curls his fingers quickly to the soft patch of muscles inside of you and you yelp softly at the overwhelming feeling.

It's like he already knows how to coax what he wants from you.

"Cum for me and I'll give you my cock," he promises.

It's strange how even in the throes of pleasure you can still find the sassiness you've become so used to peeking out of you. "Wh-Who said I want it?"

Guk chuckles against you, the ragged, hot breath making your back bow. "This pretty pussy says, now cum for me."

He curls his fingers faster until the ache in your stomach bursts and your thighs lock around his shoulders.

Your orgasm is filled with loud moans and white eyelids, your body quivers and racks and Jeongguk sits up to watch it all.

Fuck, you're gorgeous.

Why don't you understand this?

How is he going to make you understand?

Pulling his cock out of his briefs, he strokes it leisurely, waiting for you to come back down to Earth with him.

When your ears stop ringing, you blink once or twice only to be met with the beautiful sight before you.

His cock is long, longer than you expected and so thick that it makes your breath catch. The mushroom tip is red with need and the precum that weeps from his slit is so enticing that your legs open up for him without a second thought.

"Do you want to?" he inquires, leaning down to kiss you.

The kiss is slow and passionate, and he lets go of his cock to hold your face between his hands.

You nod against his lips and he can only smirk.

"Fuck me," you beg, dragging your fingers over his arms.

"Yes ma'am," he whispers, leaning up on his elbow.

You don't know this but he's not going to fuck you. He's going to make love to you but he won't tell you that because it would probably scare the hell out of you.

He positions himself at your entrance, staring deeply into your eyes.

This feels almost too emotional for you but you can't seem to tear your eyes away from his for even a second.

Guk enters you slowly, groaning at the tightness before kissing you languidly to distract you from the stretch.

"Oh my God!" you groan against his lips.

"I'm sorry, is it too big?" he asks with a knowing smile.

"No!" you hiss, letting your eyes flutter shut.

"Oh, no? It's not the biggest cock you've taken in this tight little pussy?" he teases, pulling out and thrusting roughly into you.

Your moan is so loud it could constitute for a scream and you grab for anything to steady yourself.

He gives you his hands, intertwining them and holding them over your head.

"You're so beautiful, Wednesday," he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Daddy!" you whine, squeezing his hands.

"I got you, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I promise," Jeongguk avows, thrusting into you harder.

His promise is heartfelt and sincere and that radiates deep inside of you.

Every thrust has meaning and an intention to solidify that.

"God, this pussy feels so fucking good. You're so fucking wet!"

"All for you," you breathe.

You're sincere too.

And he knows it.

"Fuck," he curses, picking up the pace.

Your breasts jiggle with his movements and your mind is muddling again all on its own.

He lets one hand go to slide it down your stomach until it nestles against your throbbing bud and he rubs smooth, fast circles.

"Daddy! Fuck! Yes!"

"Yeah? You like that? You want more, baby? You want to cum for me again?"

You nod incessantly, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Then cum," he coos softly, burying his face in your neck.

Your perfume wraps him in this loving shroud where nothing could ever bother him. You keep him peaceful in this moment.

"I feel it, baby, give it to me. Your pussy is milking my cock so nicely," he groans muffled into your skin.

"G-Guk!" you cry out, squeezing his one hand tighter.

The way you call his name, the anxiousness behind it has him lifting his head.

"I'm right here, Y/N," he whispers, kissing you and coaxing the orgasm from you peacefully.

You whine loudly against his lips, letting go of everything.

The escort groans loudly at how your pussy clenches around him, practically begging him for his seed so he can only comply.

"Oh fuck! I'm cumming! I'm cumming, baby girl!"

His thrusts become shorter and harder until he spills his seed inside of you with shaky breath.

"Baby," he moans loudly, wrapping his arms around you.

Both of your hearts are beating so fast that it feels like they might just give up out of nowhere without warning.

He pulls out of you slowly, laying down by your side and he doesn't even give you a chance to pull away. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair as he closes his eyes.

There's comfortable silence for a while, it's so comfortable that you haven't even had a chance to begin to worry yet.

"I want you to meet my dog," he mumbles sleepily, kissing your shoulder.

"Your dog?" you inquire with a tired giggle.

"He's the only other one that means more to me in this universe than anything."

"The only other one?" you breathe curiously.

He smirks tiredly, closing his eyes.

"Yeah. You heard me, Wednesday."

<----- Last Chapter            Next Chapter ----->

[bookbitchx]

Hello hello here's a lil rant about SJMs writing of Rhys and it driving me crazy :) (CC3 spoilers, ACOTAR spoilers, minor TOG spoilers)

I agree with your post that questions whether or not SJM was being purposeful when she created the dynamics of the IC and their allies. I personally think in order to determine if SJM is doing this purposefully its important to take all her books into account (especially with the crossover in CC3 😭 And because SJM's only finished series currently is TOG, most of my comparisons will involve that series)

I suspect that the IC's emotional journeys are still very far from over. Especially Rhys and Feyre since they have been arguing off page (which is understandable given it wasnt their POVs) and SJM purposefully included Ember Quinlan defending Nesta in the bonus chapter. Now each of these characters have VERY strong personalities, but Ember in particular comparing rhys to someone who abused her is EXTREMELY important for us as readers to note for future books. And i really hope that its because SJM is finally gonna let him be held accountable for being an ass towards his mate's sister and for meddling so much in their relationship.

Rhysand in particular out of all of the IC has probably the most potential for a good redemption arc. Hes traumatized by his families deaths and UTM in canon and it would be safe to assume his childhood in Windhaven wasn't exactly pleasant. So giving us the Archeron POVs to unpack these centuries old characters is bound to get messy due to their own lack of experience, (but it makes for good fan interaction, i see you sjm).

Rhys definitely has better intentions than the Highlords before him did, but he still has some iffy behavior that stems from needing to have control over his surroundings likely due to traumatic events where he felt powerless to save those he cares for. But that doesn't excuse the fact that he has (accidentally) hurt more people while trying to keep control. He withheld life saving info from his mate bc he didnt want her to worry, he threatened and chased Nesta from the city because she shared the info he was hiding, he stole the book from Tarquin despite the fact that he likely would have helped rhys anyway, he locked his IC in Velaris to protect them (when Amren could've solo'd anyone in UTM 🤫). All of which to me sounds like could be control issues.

Now for who I think is the closest character we have to really compare to Rhys, the MC of TOG also struggled with control issues throughout the series. And her own trauma also mirrors Rhys' to an extent, especially her family life and the fact she was also stuck without fresh air while she was in Endovier. She made bad choices throughout her story, ones that affected the people she loved directly. But when her arc concluded, she was able to make healthier decisions for herself and loved ones despite that.

If SJM truly loves rhys as much as she claims, I don't think she wouldn't give him an opportunity to heal like the one she gave to Aelin. Especially after she hinted in CC3 that things are NOT always all fine and dandy in Feysand's relationship, Feyre herself said she was furious with the IC in acosf, and the two of them have yet to discuss how Rhys' actions utm affected her.

Realistically, I don't the highest hopes for Rhys' character arc unfortunately, but a girl can dream of a better ACOTAR 😂 I wanna believe that it'll be a great series when it concludes but im hesitant in putting my faith into SJM tbh 😔 Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful rest of ur day/ night and im so excited to hear your thoughts!

Heyy

I hope you're having a good day/night too!

You definitely make some good points.

I can kind of see similarities between Rhysand and Aelin, but at the same time, I don't.

Aelin, for all her faults and mistakes, had at least tried to do the right thing, no matter how misguided it was. She was selfish and reckless and ended up hurting people close to her, but she owned up to it. She was also young. She was, what like 19-20? Not an excuse, but a factor.

Rhysand, on the other hand... God, where do I even start?

It's weird because ACOTAR is so different from TOG in terms of writing, and I'm just talking about first person/third person POVs.

I honestly believe that SJM tried to make the series black and white. Tamlin Bad, Rhysand good. Eris bad, Mor good. Nesta bad, Feyre good... and accidentally ended up with a controversial mess.

I mean good for her. Publicity is publicity no matter if it's positive or negative (here we are talking about it), but yeah.

Rhysand was supposed to be this morally grey character, but she ended up making him a self praising, self-proclaimed king of feminism, most powerful High Lord with nothing to back it up.

○ He gives Feyre 'choices' only when the outcome is in his favor.

○ He claims he's all for women's freedom to choose whatever they want... yet he lets those Illyrian camps keep women as glorified slaves and praises the leaders for giving them 2 hours of training.

○ He's 'the most powerful High Lord' yet he can't control the HC, and the camp leaders barely respond to him.

○ He, Feyre, and the IC feel entitled to information that affects the whole of Prythian... for what I don't know.

○ I'm not even going to get into the acts he commits against his 'family' bc I would be here for a while.

○ He encouraged his mate to take her petty revenge on Tamlin, destroying his entire court in the process, innocent lives and homes, not to mention making Prythian more vulnerable to Hybern.

○ He got mad at Nesta for giving the mask to Bryce... isn't that what he did with the book? Except he stole it and destroyed Summer Court property while Nesta controls the mask.

You're right about his control issues, though, as was seen with Nesta every time she didn't listen to him. I can see how that would relate to the lack of control he felt UTM, but...

Did 50 years UTM getting SA affect him? Obviously. I don't disregard the trauma he went through, but I also don't turn a blind eye to the things he did UTM.

He assaulted his mate with no excuse. He could've easily left her in that cell instead of making her wear a napkin and get drunk against her will. Amarantha didn't even care when he paraded her around and only got mad when she saw them kissing.

The children of the Winter Court that were killed, I don't know why it was brushed off with no consequences because who else would have done it? Daematis are extremely rare, and somehow, there was another one powerful trapped under the mountain, but he doesn't know who? Another Daemati who was working for Amarantha and didn't call out Rhysand on the Claire Beddor lie?

God, this turned into a rant, I know, and I'm sorry, lol.

I personally don't see a redemption arc satisfying enough happening or at all really. I read somewhere that Rhysand was created after SJM's husband Josh... yk where I'm going with this.

Anyway, if you sat through this, thanks!

[wizard-finix]

Ao3 tag game!

THANKS @ragecndybars FOR THE TAG I APPRECIATE IT

*cracks knuckles* lets do this

How many works do you have on AO3?

24 works! I would have never expected to have that many 5 years ago, hahaha

What's your total AO3 word count?

186,291! oh wow, almost 200k!! (unsurprisingly PT minato takes up over a third of that LMAO)

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

10 fandoms! I'm counting Persona 3, 4, and 5 and separate, but I'm grouping all the Zelda fandoms together since it's all Linked Universe fic.

Here's the breakdown!

The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms (6)

Persona 5 (5)

Persona 3 (5)

SPY x FAMILY (Anime) (3)

Wizard101 (Video Game) (3)

SPY x FAMILY (Manga) (3)

Runescape (Video Games) (3)

Pirate101 (Video Game) (3)

Persona 4 (2)

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom (2)

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga (1)

Star Wars - All Media Types (1)

The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors (1)

Top five fics by kudos:

The Ghost of Mementos/Stygian Ringlet (Persona3/5) - to the surprise of absolutely no one, since this is currently my longest fic. I'm very happy with Stygian Ringlet being the top because I love my boys :)

True Crime Special on the Midnight Channel (Persona 4/5) - my Ren has a TV Dungeon fic! also very proud of the dungeon concept for this one, I really need to finish the last two chapters

Dark Clouds on the Horizon (Linked Universe/TOTK) - I feel like this one got a lot of momentum partially because it was directly in the wake of TOTK's release, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)

Strangers Are Just Friends You Haven't Met (Persona 3/SPY x FAMILY) - this was a collab series with mewrose and a few others in the marigolds discord! we were throwing ideas at the wall to see what stuck and I really had a lot of fun with Shinjiro-related prompts, because I LOVE him and hitting him with the isekai baseball bat into a universe with Anya brings me great joy

Salt Tears and Raindrops (Linked Universe/TOTK) - directly related to Dark Clouds, and I'm glad people enjoyed good ol' fashioned angst >:) (I do need to post more of my wips, I do have a couple more roleswap AU wips that I want to post)

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I almost always do because I really appreciate them and its my way of saying thanks for the comment! If I don't comment it's because I lost track of it or because I can't think of a response.

What's the fic with the angstiest ending you've ever written?

Probably Salt Tears and Raindrops. I was in a Mood and decided to go for the tried-and-true method of putting fictional characters I like through the emotional wringer. That's how I got the rough draft for this fic :)

Do you write crossovers?

*looks at my persona fics and recent LU fics*

...I think it's safe to say most of my fics these days fall under crossovers lmao

Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

I wouldn't say I have? One or two comments that came off as rude, but no actual hate, thankfully. If I did, I forgot about it. I've been blessed by wonderfully nice readers <3

Do you write smut?

Nope. I don't read it, so I wouldn't know how to write it anyway.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of? I sure hope not.

I have seen a couple short fics slightly imitate Ghost of Mementos though, which I thought was really sweet that they liked it enough to inspire their own writing.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I'd definitely be open to it!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

RYOMINA. Hands down. I love them so much, I am so mentally unwell about these two

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

My two Runescape fics, Whispers in the Temple and Welcome to the Jungle. I absolutely loved going hogwild with rewriting old quests in Runescape, but I psyched myself out of Welcome to the Jungle because I got overly anxious about accidentally doing bad representation.

(in hindsight, it probably wouldn't have been as big a deal as I thought; it's hard to make it worse considering how bad Legend's Quest was with the british-african stereotypes. that quest DID NOT age well.)

I also want to finish Snake in the Grass; that was my first attempt at a genuine mystery plot and I really liked playing with Warriors in that fic in the context of the gang trying to figure out who the heck is trying to murder him.

What are your writing strengths?

I feel like I'm pretty good at dialogue! I try to make sure it matches the character's speech patterns and personality. Really well-written dialogue can tell you who's speaking without actually telling who it is. (For example, the way I write them: Minato speaks as few words as possible and has very little filter with his observations when he does share them, and Shinjiro is pretty rough around the edges, with shortened words and the occasional swear. Warriors is good with words and wit, but he has a certain military-esque directness and doesn't dance around the topic.)

I do try hard to keep the plot clear and understandable over everything else, so probably that as well.

Also, now that I think about it, maybe fight sequences? I don't do them much, but I do enjoy the challenge of making a clear sequence of what happens in a fight and trying to make it understandable. Fight sequences are easy to skip or gloss over, but I think of them like their own miniature plot. What happens? What surprises are there? What are their movesets? How do they get the upper hand? (and of course, what looks cool as fuck)

What are your writing weaknesses?

Time management. I tend to over-proofread since I beta my own work, and often I'll go back to tweak stuff if I had additional thoughts to add to it, or extra insight. Lately, it takes longer to write chapters than I'd like.

Also, dialogue-heavy scenes often get very chaotic in my WIPs because of the way I rough out fics. I'll throw together a bunch of dialogue bits I think would be cool to include, and sometimes they'll clash or get really messy, especially if there's lots of characters (looking at the latest two chapters of Stygian Ringlet)

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?

I think it's cool! It adds flavor to fics. If it's more than one short phrase though, or if it's story important, then I do prefer that there is a translation in the author's notes. I haven't done any non-English dialogue in fics, save for one memorable adventure into trying to figure out how Latin grammar structure works for a character that didn't speak English.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Wizard101 and Pirate101. I was obsessed with those two for YEARS. I really, really liked pirate stories in high school, and having a cast of crewmates that accompany you throughout the game really inspired me to write my first fic featuring my OC. (I was also into One Piece at the time, but I never wrote for it.)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?

Stygian Ringlet. It's really dear to my heart. I have poured so much love and effort into that fic, and the reception on it has completely blown me away.

THANKS FOR THE TAG!! Uhhhmmm for tags I'm going to go with @skyward-floored, @catreginae and @breannasfluff (but only if you want to!! no obligation of course)

and of course any other writers that want to do it as well!! go forth

[bamber344]

Whumpee intro: Jordyn's Training - 1

prev/next

masterlist

heyo ik I said the updates for this would take a while but I wanted to get this out quickly so there was some actual whump to sink your teeth into for the story. the 'Jordyn's Training' arc was meant to just be one thing but this first section absolutely ballooned way bigger than I thought it would (just over 2k words) so it will most likely be a 4-parter

Anyway this series actually has a name now! it is Project Genesis, courtesy of my brain in the shower this morning; the birthplace of many great ideas.

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the tag list btw! chapter begins below the cut :3

CWs: broken bones, whipping, emotional manipulation, vomiting, blood, meal restrictions, mentions of recovery, female whumpee, male whumper, superpowered whumpee

(let me know if I need to CW anything else I forgot about!)

Jordyn's Training, part 1: The First Mistake

3 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

The obstacle course stretched out before me, vast and daunting. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before, but the fast-spinning metal poles and swinging wrecking balls never failed to make me anxious before I threw myself in for another go. I’d been hit by them more than enough to know how much they hurt. Still, this sort of training was necessary for my rehabilitation, so I steeled myself and prepared to do another run-through, aiming to beat my personal best under Father’s watchful eye.

It had been three months since I woke up in that room, cold and confused, lashing out at anything that moved. If not for Father, I would probably still be in that helpless, animalistic state. He took me in when no one else would, taught me how to speak, and read and write; how to be a functional human being again. I was in an accident, apparently, injured badly enough that when I woke my mind was completely blank, bare of even the most basic muscle memory. Father’s treatment may have fixed my body, but my mind still needed hands-on work; work that he tirelessly took upon himself. He spent countless late nights with me, speaking to me, reading to me, letting me get a feel for English again. He allowed me to lean on him while I was relearning how to walk. He spoon-fed me when I lacked the coordination to feed myself. There was still a lot that I didn’t know, and I got confused often, especially when he used bigger words, but he said that was okay. I didn’t need to know everything. So long as I did good, and he gave me that warm, tingly smile, nothing else really mattered.

Apparently, I used to be something called a ‘superhero’ before my accident. I would use this strange power I had to take down criminals and bring them to justice. If I ever wanted to be able to do that again, I needed to train. My body may have been passably functional, but it needed to be exceptional, or so Father said. He always smiled when he talked about me being a superhero again, so I knew that was where I needed to focus my efforts.

“Jordyn? What are you waiting for?” Father asked, his voice gravelly and stern.

I snapped out of my thoughts. “Sorry, Father. I was just preparing myself.”

He shook his head and something inside of me shrivelled up. “Not good enough, Jordyn. Do you think the criminals will wait for you to be ready? You need to do what I ask when I ask, not when you think you are ready.”

I clenched my fists, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “S-sorry, Father.”

“It’s alright, Jordyn. Now, go.”

I wasted no more time, charging forward as Father started the timer. I needed to do good on this to make up for my blunder before. Father had spent so much of his time and energy on me; I couldn’t let it all be for nothing.

The beat of my feet against the floor fell into a rhythm as I jumped, dodged, and dashed my way through the course. I’d been running it for over a month now, and it was quickly becoming second-nature. I knew exactly when to duck my head to avoid the spinning beams, how to deftly move between the wooden knives shot from the walls, and just which way I should step to avoid the pitfalls in the floor. The burn in my lungs and legs was distracting, but I didn’t let it slow me down. Just like Father always said: ‘Pain isn’t real.’

Something looked a little different about the second set of spinning poles, but I ignored it. The course was always the same every time I ran it; I was probably just thrown off because of Father’s reprimand. They always stung in a way I didn’t know how to deal with. 

I leapt into the fray of rapidly spinning wooden beams, ducking the ones at head-height and hopping over the ones aiming for my legs. It took a little bit more focus to ensure I wasn’t hit this time; it seemed as though the poles were spinning faster than usual. Still, with all of my practice, I was making good time. My personal best wouldn’t know what hit it.

Crack!

Something slammed into my shin and my leg buckled from under me. That was fine, this wasn’t the first time I’d been knocked down. I made sure to roll out of the way of any on-coming beams so I had a safe spot to catch my breath in before continuing.

Then the pain hit, so hard and so strong that I immediately gagged from the shock, agony shooting up my leg like bolts of electricity. It was hard to breathe. Hot tears spilled from my eyes as overwhelmed sobs tore from my throat. I looked down at my leg to see what was hurting me so bad and almost threw up. My shin had already turned an ugly purple, and the rest of the limb below that point was twisted unnaturally. My heart lurched.

“F-FATHER! HELP!” I shrieked. The pain was too much; my entire body was locking up, too afraid to move in case I made it worse.

“What are you doing, Jordyn? Get up. Keep going.”

Disobeying his orders hurt almost more than my snapped leg, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. “I- I can’t! It hurts! Father, please!”

“That’s not good enough! Use your shadows, steel yourself! The course is not over until you complete it! Get up, girl! Your pain is not real!”

The thought of going on made me want to curl into a ball, but I did as I was told. Father’s orders came before all else, especially my own comfort. I owed him my life; a little pain meant nothing in the face of that. I reached out to the shadows around me, wrapping them around my injured leg like a splint. My skin turned black, sucking in all of the light around it, but the pain did lessen somewhat. A whimper escaped my lips as I forced myself up. Shards of agony stabbed my flesh every time I put weight on my leg, but it was manageable. I could move, albeit slowly. So much for beating my personal best.

It took an embarrassingly long time, but eventually I was able to limp my way to the end of the course, receiving more than a few extra bruises from the traps I was unable to dodge due to my injury. I collapsed at Father’s feet, dropping to my knees with my head hanging low as sweat dripped from my brow.

“That was disgraceful, Jordyn. Even your first attempt was better than that.”

I bit back a sob. “I’m s-sorry, Father. M-my leg, it-”

He grabbed a fistful of my short hair and tugged my head up, slapping me across the face. “I don’t care for your excuses. If you allow something as trivial as a broken leg to slow you down, the criminals out there will tear you to shreds. You should have learned by now how to use your power to protect yourself against this sort of thing without my instruction. I’ve already spent so much time healing you; I will be very disappointed if it turns out to all be a waste. Are you a waste of my time, Jordyn?”

“N-no Father! I’m not a waste!”

He let go of my hair, allowing me to sag back down to the floor. “Hm. I expect not. Remove your shirt.”

I blinked up at him. “F-Father?”

He struck me again, hard enough to whip my head to the side. “If you cannot even follow a simple order without talking back, how can I expect you to perform well in the field?”

I didn’t make the same mistake twice, pulling off the black, skin-tight garment as quickly as I could.

He nodded his head to the side, indicating a metal pole in the corner of the room, with two handles sticking out of it on either side. I’d yet to learn what purpose it served, but I had a feeling I was about to find out.

“Grab the handles of that pole and remain on your knees.”

I shuffled over with my head down, each drag of my injured leg across the floor causing tears to spring up in my eyes. The metal of the handles was cold under my palms, numbing my fingers. The rough floor dug into my knees uncomfortably. Father was moving around behind me, and every time it sounded like he was approaching, I inadvertently flinched and shied away. Anxious curiosity burned in the pit of my belly. What was this all about? I risked a question.

“Father, wh-what’s happening?”

“You need to learn how to ignore pain, Jordyn. The only way for you to do that is to experience it. It isn’t real; just chemical reactions in your brain. You must internalise that.”

“I- I don’t know what that means, Father.”

He ignored me. “While this is because you failed today, it doesn’t have to be a punishment, Jordyn. Consider it a lesson; a lesson on conquering pain. If you use your shadows to protect yourself from this, or let go of the handles at any point, I’ll have your other leg broken and forbid the medics from repairing it. Remember: pain isn’t real.”

“Father, I-”

SNAP

All of the air rushed out of me and a line of fire lit up across my back. It was so sudden that I couldn’t stop myself from crying out. Surely that wasn’t what he meant to-

SNAP

My stomach rolled uncomfortably as the strike shook my entire body. I couldn’t help but scream as the pain echoed through me.  

“FATHER! FATHER, P-PLEASE STOP!” 

“Be silent, girl! Who told you you could speak?!”

SNAP

His command overrode even my most basic need to express the utter agony I was in, and the following scream got caught in my throat. Shadows flickered and writhed underneath me, licking up my legs out of protective instinct before I forced them back down again, Father’s warning ringing in my mind.

SNAP

SNAP

SNAP

It felt like it would never end. My vision darkened at the edges. My abs clenched and a surge of bile spilled from my mouth. Warm blood dripped down the burning, torn skin of my back, my anguish heightening with each consecutive blow.

Pain isn’t real Pain isn’t real Pain isn’t real Pain isn’t real Pain isn’t real

SNAP

SNAP

SNAP

SNAP

SNAP

Seconds passed, and no new wave of pain came. I gasped, sucking in as much air as I could to refill my lungs before it was all inevitably expelled again by another strike. My ears were ringing so loud I could barely hear anything and my entire body felt numb aside from the battlefield that was my back, which was still sending lancing aftershocks deep into my muscles even as time continued to press forward with no hint of the next lash.

“You may release the handles, Jordyn.”

I let go and my whole body went limp as I dropped to the floor into a puddle of my own blood and vomit. The movement sent arcing memories of fire through my torn-up skin, and a sob slipped from between my clenched teeth.

“Clean yourself up and report to the medbay when you are ready. After that, head straight to your room. Do not expect dinner.”

All I wanted was a warm meal and for the pain to stop. “Wh-whyyy?” I moaned.

“I will not reward mediocrity, Jordyn. You did poorly today, and as such, you will not be receiving dinner privileges until you beat your personal best again. Be better.”

His footsteps echoed as he walked out of the training room, leaving me alone to cry. This was my own fault. If only I’d been good like he wanted, he wouldn’t have had to hurt me like that. I never wanted to disappoint him like that again.

“I’m s-sorry, Father… I’m sorry.”

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star

feel free to reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed :) I like hearing from you!

[angel-sweets666]

Sweetheart~

The creature x fem!reader

a frilly pink outsider from New Orleans finds a undead love sick man, and doesn’t know what to do with him! chapter one Warning: swearing, possible drug use, murder.

word count 1,325

A/N HIIIIIII, I sent an ask to a writer on here a few days ago and I had the idea to write the fanfic myself! just thought it would be cute and I wanted to try and write it in my own style! This is gonna be in multiple parts in a series! Hopefully about ten parts maybe more with some one shots in between while writing (by the way I haven’t watched Lisa Frankenstein yet because it’s not out in Australia so im obviously going to be missing a few parts, I’ll try to fit them in as flash backs)

It had been a few days since *name* had found The creature, he broke into her room after leaving her mother’s rosary on his grave. Since then *Name* had been keeping him hidden away from her family in her closet, however trying to hide him from her snoopy step sister, taffy; seemed to be easier said then done. change of pov

“I mean! Is it so weird to drink milk from the carton?” You asked this zombie thing, he stared at you then shrugged “your soooo much help…” you rolled my eyes. “So like… is it peaceful down there? In the grave?” You questioned him, he slowly groaned and shook his head; his way of saying no “I would ask what’s it like but I’m far too lazy” you giggled, placing a joint into your mouth then turning your head to look at him. The creature looked disapproving, but as of right now he couldn’t show much emotion; he didn’t have eyebrows and was missing a hand and his ear. “What? People smoked cigars in your day. You probably smoked cigars!” You exclaimed, he groaned and reached his good hand to try and “confiscate” your joint “ah! No. This was a good $30.” You pulled your hand away “I’ll quit, trust. Anyways, WHAT DO I WEAR TO SCHOOL” you groaned

You ended up finding an outfit that both you, taffy and the creature agreed on. A light coloured (your choice) wool sweater, a black mini skirt, some black leggings, white leg warmers and black Mary Jane’s with little bows on them with your hair curled and in a half up half down with a bow. This frilly pink style often got you picked on and snickered at by your peers, you looked like THE biggest girly girl in the whole world. It was 1989 and you weren’t exactly the most popular.

in the car

Taffy grinned to you “soo… anyone you think is hot yet..?” She giggles “Uhm…. No” I chuckled “oh.. that one guys kind of cu-” “WHO TELL ME RIGHT NOW, NO WAIT DONT TELL ME, NO WAIT DO. DO TELL ME” she squealed into your ear “that uh.. micheal Trent guys kind of cute” she made a face “eaugh….” (Honey you slept with him…..) “what..?!” You yelled “WHY HIM?” “CAUSE HES A CUTIEE” “whatever you say” “I do say, I do” you rolled your eyes “yk most sisters are supportive right?” You told her “Mkay, they support good decisions” she said as she turned a right the car “schools to the left taf’” you reminded her “I wanna get some iced coffee” she said like it was nothing “WERE GONNA BE LATE” “SHUT UP NO WERE NOT JESUS H CHRIST”

after school (sorry for all the time skips but this is a creature x reader not let’s watch taffy and reader argue about coffee)

“uGHhhHhH school suckeds” you groaned as I walked into your room, slumping against the wooden door resulting in it shutting, the creature looked at you with furrowed brow, confused by the statement “yes they let girls go to school. It’s 1989 get with the times” the creature groaned and lifted its hand or rather lack there of “I can’t.. I can’t just get you new parts…” you told him, shrugging. He threw a little zombie tantrum, groaning and flopping onto the bed“calm down calm down!” You yelled as you tried to hold him down, grabbing his upper arm to hold the undead man in place “look I can’t get get you new pa-“*NAME LAST NAME*” a horrible screech came from your step mothers throat, clearly trying to pick yet another fight. “Go go go” you said quietly as you ushered the creature into your closet, shutting the wooden door in his face. “…yes..?!” You replied to her, she opened your door “what.. the hell.. is wrong with you?” She gets into your face “what I do?” You looked confused to her “you’re talking to yourself, throwing things. You lied to us telling us our house got broken into! That was fine china you threw!You’re going crazy aren’t you? Trying to get the towns attention because you had your old towns attention? Your nothing but a joke, a mentally ill joke.” She snaps “huh?!” “You know what I’m going to throw you into a mental facility, just to get rid of you…” you gasped, shook your head and backed away slowly “no…” you whispered, trying to avoid such misery “yes.. impatient lock down!” You gasped again “special socks n all” suddenly, a loud smack and a sickening cracking noise. The creature had grabbed the old sewing machine and slammed it onto Janet’s head “oh good lord..” you backed away and began to whimper, the creature waddles towards you and tried to hug you to calm you down, wrapping his strong but cold and dead arms around you. You whimpered and cried since now you felt like your responsible for a dead woman. He pulled away from the hug, made a groan then twisted his body towards the night table and grabbing the scissors off it. The creature leaned down and slowly, sliced off Janet’s pierced ear. The red blood poured down her makeup caked face, going down with the blood she was already gargling up and onto the carpet. The creature stood up, and held up the blood covered ear, offering it to you. With shaky hands you slowly grabbed it “d-do you want me to Uhm.. uh.. oh god…sew it back on..?”

The creatures cold and curly haired head laid in your lap, as you secured Janet’s now amputated ear to the left side of his head, double checking it was inline with the rest of his head and in the right spot for his side burns. “I don’t think.. can you hear out of it..?” You asked, yanking at the ear “can you feel it?” You questioned the undead man again, he groaned “okay yeah I forgot you don’t have a tongue.” You sighed

(flash back)

“maybe you wanna try laying in my tanning bed? Get some colour in ya?” Taffy suggested as she pat your cheek “I’m good, that thing would electrocute me.” You chuckled as you applied lip gloss, trying to get ready for a party that taffy was going to drag you to then have to take you home early like she always did. “Cmon! You’ll look good.. trust me” she smiled comfortingly “okay fine.. pass the sunscreen” you decided to humour her, holding your hand out for the plastic bottle of spf. As you went to lay down in the tanning bed, a spark hit you, then two, then three. Then…. Crack . It electrocuted you “TAFFY!” “okay I’m really sorry you got electrocuted earlier, I didn’t know it would do that .”, you huffed disappointingly

you ended up getting harrassed that night by a short guy called Doug, he kept trying to hit on you and sexually assault you. He made you incredibly uncomfortable

end of flash back

“Didn’t you say you were killed and brought back by a lightning strike, maybe electricity can add things to you!” You squealed in surprise as you rushed him down the stairs and into the magenta tanning bed. Your hand reached towards the crank, putting it into a certain level and then stepping back to see if it would work. Sparks flew in all sorts of directions, left right and centre. “Please don’t be hurt please don’t be hurt” you begged quietly, then a ding! Like an oven saying it’s finished baking, our little zombie boy was finished baking! As you opened the lid and he slowly, but hilariously sat up like a vampire. You decided to see if he could heat “can you hear me!” You yelled and he groaned “can ya?! Yeah!?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?” you kept yelling and he kept groaning. “OH MY GOD IT WORKED! HOLY SHITTTT” you clapped excitedly.

a/n sorry it’s short it’s one of my first fanfics, I hope you enjoyed and tell me if you want some more!

[lapis-lights]

Chapter 02 | You Could Kill Me And You Should

'Falling From Grace' Series

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: This Is Love by Air Traffic Controller

Content Warnings: Leon is a Bad Driver (most important warning), Mostly tension building, They're getting better until they're not, Some nightmares

Word Count: 12k

Author's Notes: Second chapter of the Falling From Grace series! What did you guys think yesterday? I hope it was good enough in your guys' opinion! Anyways enjoy I hope you enjoy part two :D

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: As you and Leon start working as allies, the more you start having second thoughts about him. Surely it couldn't mean anything...right? Conflicting emotions and a surprise visit shatter your whole view of him and you can't help but wish Leon would reveal his true intentions already.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

"You're no good, you're no good. You could kill me and you should. I'm an idiot for thinking this was anything but blood..."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

You're really considering your life choices.

Currently, you hold on for dear life in the fancy little sedan Leon owns as he races down the street, pushing fifty-five on a road where the speed limit was set to forty. It's only been a couple minutes since you left the motel and you wonder in amazement how this man manages to get anywhere with his horrendous driving skills. A stop sign comes up on the horizon, and he at least has the decency to slow down. You think it'll be smooth sailing but he slams his foot on the brake right before the sign and the entire damn vehicle jolts beneath you as your head almost crashes into the headrest. 

Maybe this was how he was trying to kill you. You never thought Leon would be interested in vehicular manslaughter.

Before he can even think about pressing on the gas, you unbuckle your seatbelt and earn a confused look from him. 

"Get out," you command, opening your door. "You're playing passenger princess now."

You feel much safer as you adjust the seat and mirrors and Leon lands into the space you had just occupied. As revenge for your abrupt change in seating, he cranks the religious Christian rock station on the radio and subjects you to guitars lamenting about Jesus as singers mourn the death of their savior. 

Truly, right now you wish Jesus would take the wheel.

"How did you even pass your driver's test?" You mumble, checking the street both ways (which you're sure Leon wouldn't have done if he still had the unfortunate privilege of driving) before tapping the gas and climbing up to a very safe forty-two.

"They said that while my driving was unpleasant, it technically wasn't unsafe or hazardous," he shrugs. "I got it on my third try."

"They lied to you, then," you frown. "Probably gave you pretty boy pity points or something."

“Pretty?”

When you glance at him, his eyebrows are raised suggestively and you scowl. “You’re so right, my apologies. Mediocre boy pity points.”

“Hey.”

When you get onto the main interstate and turn on cruise control, you finally let yourself relax, seeing that practically no other vehicles were out at this hour of the morning and gaining some sort of comfort that nobody was tracking you. For now, at least, you're safe.

The city Leon found that was near the laboratory you were planning on infiltrating was fairly large and he'd rented out a suite at the top of one of the prestigious hotels with government money that he spent without a glance. You'd simply stared at him when he revealed this information to you and he'd only smiled and told you to pack your things. 

Ridiculous. He was going to drive you crazy. 

The song on the radio switches and you're surprised that you know it. Leon seems equally surprised when he hears you humming the melody of the chorus under your breath. 

"You know these songs?" He asks.

You turn your left blinker on and check the rearview despite the lack of any other car. "Just this one so far. My family was heavy on this kind of music when I was a kid so it's mostly backed by nostalgia."

"Huh. Mine were too."

That surprises you. It's weird knowing you have something in common with him, especially with a childhood core memory like this one. He also didn't strike you as the type to have grown up on cheesy Christian rock, but the more you know. Maybe if you knew him earlier on, it would make more sense. After all, you'd only gotten to know him a little after the incident with Wilson and his business with working with viruses right under the president's nose. 

Of the course, the J.I.E. had wanted you to check it out before you firmly reminded them they were asking you to infiltrate the white house. 

After a few minutes of nothing but roads and listening to music, you hear light snores to your right. One glance is all it takes to know that Leon’s been lost to the gentle rock of the car and being lulled to sleep. The sight makes you soften a little as you return your eyes to the road and snake a hand to the knob that controlled the radio station. You twist until you find something you like, settling back into the seat as you keep on, singing the lyrics to some choruses you know mindlessly as the streetlights fly by in patterns of aged yellow. 

You only have a vague notion of where you are so it really is unfortunate that Leon had allowed himself to fall asleep so quickly, but you don’t really fault him. The guy technically was supposed to be on vacation but with your sudden intrusion, it made it near impossible to get the relaxation that a getaway insinuated. You feel bad, but also consider that he had volunteered to accompany you for this whole plan.

At the most, he could’ve nursed you back to health and let you go, blackmailing you later into telling any information you might gain. You know the government isn’t above doing something petty like that. 

But, here he was, snoring softly away in the seat of a car that’s being driven by one of the greatest threats on his life. Leon must’ve been exhausted if he was able to go unconscious despite all the risks. Not that you would ever dream of trying to engage in a fight while you’re going seventy on the interstate, but more so that you do owe him. You’re not the model of an upstanding citizen, but you try to keep your morals as best as you can in this industry.

You sigh, glancing out the windshield to see the bare trees lined with frost on their trunks flashing by as they bordered the interstate. Snow covers where grass usually sat so the blizzard must've been large having covered this much ground in the span of only a few days. 

Truly alone with your thoughts now, you reflect on everything that has happened. Of course, you’d told Leon what had happened at the J.I.E. when you left, but he never knew how you got wrapped up in all of that kind of stuff. For all he knew, you just showed up one day and found a new threat to his missions. 

As a high schooler, you’d always dreamed of doing something big. Despite being talked down by your partner at the time, you’d been determined to help those in need and care for the ones who’d been lost and needed guidance. ‘Justice for Inhumane Experimentalists’ was the title of those hopes and dreams so landing an internship there felt like you were one step closer to everything you wanted.

They promised you more. They promised you’d be helping masses of people. 

You’ve killed more than you can count on your two hands and have gotten a whole bunch of scars that you can’t even bear to think about now. That youthful hope has been sucked out of your soul, but your parents still think you’re in some city with a regular nine-to-five living your best life. You haven’t seen them in years, but frankly don’t care to try now.

You don’t care to open that can of worms.

You notice a green road sign that lets you know that the city is only a couple miles off of an exit, and you recognize the name of it uttered by Leon in passing when you asked him where you’d be heading. As you vear off the main interstate and merge onto the exit road, you hear a grumble and an odd noise of recognition. 

There’s a pause before Leon speaks, voice heavy with sleep and tiredness still lingering in his tone. “You’re thinking really hard over there.”

Confused, you slow down at a stoplight and actually turn to get a good look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for one, you’re holding onto that steering wheel like you’re trying to choke someone to death–” you loosen your grip and your knuckles flood with color, “–and you’ve got that wrinkle in your forehead that you get when you’re really focused on something.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve almost killed you enough times to know when you’re trying to think of something to get you out of tight spots,” he reveals as the light turns green and you tear your gaze away from him to carefully turn left across the intersection. “You’re easy to read.”

“To you, maybe.”

“Are you saying you can’t say the same about me?”

He’s got you there. “Touché.”

“Thought so,” he leans back smugly.

Maybe you should have crashed the car while he was sleeping. You’d have to mourn the missed opportunity later. 

Lights appear on the horizon, and you feel better upon seeing the large silhouette of the city rising over the landscape. A green sign lets you know that you've breached the border as Leon begins directing you down the unfamiliar streets to one of the bigger storied buildings. You park easily into a free space and volunteer to start unpacking the bags so he can go check into the room. 

The ground is lined with ice and snow from the recent blizzard that had carried over this way too. Today, you and Leon would be setting yourself up for recon work on the J.I.E. but more importantly, buying you some much-needed clothes and necessities. Now that you were close enough to actual stores, you could pick up some things you've needed since you showed up at the motel. 

When Leon reemerges, he has a key card in hand. 

The two of you don't say anything, but each takes a suitcase to at least make it look like you brought something. The light hits your eyes as you enter through the sliding doors and wave politely to the hostess who's sitting alone at the front desk. 

"I hope we'll provide you with a nice place for your honeymoon," she calls out and your stomach drops. "If you need anything, just let me know!"

"Oh! Thank you so much," you enthuse with an exaggerated smile. It drops as soon as you round the corner to get on the elevator and you whirl around to Leon who's acting like he did nothing. "Really, Kennedy? A honeymoon?"

"It made the most sense since I booked the suite," he shrugs placidly, reaching around you to press the button to call the lift. "So try to behave and be a good little wife, yeah?"

That old flame of hatred reignites in your chest and you remember just exactly why you and Leon had such an intense rivalry. You frown when he tilts his head up to watch the numbers tick down on the small screen above the door frame, and before he can get the chance to even think, you elbow him sharply in the gut earning a pained wheeze and a satisfactory double over. 

The elevator doors open, and you walk forward with a grin, the suitcase rolling behind you. "Come on, husband. We've got a room waiting for us." 

The glare he gives you is probably one of the nastiest you've ever seen.

"So much for a peace treaty," he mutters under his breath and you roll your eyes as he gets on.

Really, you shouldn’t have let your guard down after all the vulnerable moments you’ve shared with him and you’re reminded that this partnership is merely temporary on both ends. Once Leon gets what he wants and your little vendetta has been quelled, you’d part ways and end your feud by never having to see one another again. 

Thank god for that.

The room is decorated modernly, with crisp white sheets and polished wooden floors that seem to be upheld in the most pristine condition one could afford. In all honesty, getting to spend the night in something like this after having to live in the motel for a couple of days was a blessing. If you weren’t still pissed at Leon’s surprise cover story, you might have thanked him.

He really couldn’t come up with some better excuse, huh? Maybe you should handle all the talking during this mission proceeding forward.

You let the suitcase in your hand come to a stop as you take in the view. On the far wall, large velvet curtains cover the entire space and curiously, you peak through them. You find that the entire wall is just one big window and t view is breathtaking, showcasing a city waking up as the sun just barely begins to rise up from over the horizon. The sparse amount of sunlight stays easy on the eyes and you sigh quietly as you simply resign to watch. 

“I hope a skyline isn’t enough to wow you,” Leon’s voice breaks you from your quiet stupor and you crane your head around to look at him unimpressed.

Did he ever know when to keep his mouth shut? 

“I’m sure liking a skyline is a better sight than all the pornstars you probably blow all that money off on,” you bite back, moving away from the window and wrapping your arms around yourself. 

“Are you still hung up on the cover story?”

“Yes.”

“You’re immature.”

“And you’re insane.”

Leon groans and you choose to ignore his theatrics in favor of looking at the brochures provided by the hotel on what to do. There was a large shopping district near here that caught your eye. The title of it shared the last name of one of the officials in the J.I.E., and having it be located so near to one of the hidden labs must be no coincidence. 

You’re about to bring this point up to Leon when you notice he’s standing a lot closer than you were expecting. You hadn’t even heard him moving and your heart leaps up into your throat, effectively killing any words you were about to say. 

“Look, if this is gonna work out, we need to get along as best we can,” he begins and you already feel like he’s chastising you like a kid who got caught with their hand down a cookie jar. “I’ll consult you on any more cover-ups we might have to pull off in the future, but we need to cooperate if we’re gonna make it out of this alive.”

You know he has a point, but you won’t let yourself be told off as if he wasn’t being a fucking instigator. “You wanted to come on this road trip, Kennedy. Remember that.”

You brush past him roughly and decide to slam into the bathroom, breathing out and leaning against the door when you get inside. The mirror is bordered by a bright white light that reflects in your eyes when you look into it. As per usual, you’ve seen better days, and you think bitterly about how much your appearance has deteriorated since your primetime, so to speak.

People your age should be having kids and going out drinking every weekend to take off the end of dealing with coworkers and customers–not fighting a constant war against unnatural bioogical weapons. 

Unless you hopped on a dating app or something stupid after this whole thing is said and done, there was no hope for you. 

You pretend like you’ve gone to the bathroom, flushing the empty toilet bowl and washing your hands to get rid of the persistent feeling of dirt on your palms. When you walk out, Leon’s got the curtains drawn and was standing right in front of the window. He turns upon you exiting, awkwardly motioning to the view. 

“You should come see the sunrise,” he says, hands rubbing the back of his neck like he’s a boy asking out the baker’s daughter. “It’s pretty. You’ll like it.”

Cautiously, you join him and look out. Leon’s right–it’s pretty.

The sun doesn’t intrude on your eyes but only slowly rises as a ball in a shade of fiery orange, lighting up the skyline until you can make out the finer details on buildings that reach the height of the hotel. It illuminates the entirety of the suite in a golden glow, and you look up at Leon to ask him why he’d done this but the question catches on your tongue.

He looks beautiful in this setting, some dark and repressed part of your mind croons. His features are framed just right and the shadows pronounce and contrast all the parts of him that you neglect to notice just for the sake of having known him for so long. The only other time you’ve reluctantly admired him was the last night you’d spent together in the motel under the cover of darkness in the middle of nowhere.

You decide that despite your history together, this is how you want to remember him.

“You’re right,” you murmur, catching his attention and those blue eyes find yours. He’s almost as breathtaking as the skyline is. “It’s really pretty, and I do like it.”

He’s so close, you can almost feel his body heat if you focus hard enough, and that deranged part of your mind grows and grows until you finally have the clarity to shut it down. You shake your head mentally, breaking your eye contact to actually look at what he’d meant for you to.

What the hell just happened?

Had you really just indulged that impulsive little voice in your mind again? You could admit that Leon was attractive objectively, but you’re not just any woman who would fall for his charms and smooth-talking tongue. You know him too well for that. 

Some feeling curls in your chest, crossed between disgust, glee, hate, and excitement. Whatever it is or what it means, you don’t like it. 

For now, you allow yourself to stay in this quiet moment–one of the rare things you hardly ever get–and admire the sun. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Bustling cities had never really been your style, but you've been forced to deal with them one too many times.

For some reason, you hadn't expected the sleepy city you watched wake up would turn into such a tornado of chaos once the sun had climbed up into the sky enough. For this reason, it was important you and Leon stayed close together so that you wouldn't lose each other in the storm. 

If only you had a phone for emergencies, but that was too easy of a way for the J.I.E. to track you down simply. It was safer to be off the grid entirely. 

The effects of winter were still in play unfortunately so the snow hadn't left the streets just yet. Icicles persistently formed wherever they could and the wind still swept with an icy chill that made you shiver under the clothes you decided to wear for the day. 

It was nearing lunchtime and Leon was adamant about finding someplace to sit down to eat after walking aimlessly around town trying to find the location in the brochure you'd found, though you both agreed on going when it would be less busy. The fatigue would have worn you down if he didn't force you into a sweet little café that just happened to be along the sidewalk you'd been strolling on.

“I could’ve kept going,” you defend, and Leon levels an unconvinced look at you. 

“We needed a break anyways,” he refutes, motioning to a menu written in chalk above the counter where a glass display case sits. “Go find something, and don’t worry about the price.”

You want to taunt him for having to buy his enemy something as if you really were on a date, but the overwhelming hunger that hits you is enough to make your mind wipe clean. As Leon begins ordering his things, you peek into the display case where all the little cakes and pastries are displayed while listening to him talk with the cashier.

“How do you like working here?” he was saying.

“Oh, it’s good work,” the cashier answers. He’s got dark hair with shocks of silver lining it and a full mustache. His eyes seem honest enough. “I’ve been the store owner of this old place for my whole life, really.”

“Store owner?”

“Got it from my dad,” the guy says before glancing your way–though you pretend like you aren’t watching him through your peripheral–and teases, "Your girlfriend?"

"Oh, no," Leon deflects easily, shaking his head. "She's not my girlfriend."

Upon hearing that, something must have possessed you at the moment for some inexplicable reason. In a split-second decision, you straighten up and give a sugary bright smile to the store owner.

"I'm his wife."

You can feel Leon’s stare burning holes in your head.

“Oh!” the store owner seems mildly surprised. “I should have known–we get married couples younger than you two all the time.”

You resist looking at Leon in favor of ordering what you’d decided on during their shared conversation. He has enough consciousness to slide a card into the reader when it was time to pay, but you know he’s just bursting at the seams to ask what the fuck you were pulling.

To be honest, you didn’t even know yourself. 

“What are you doing?” he hisses quietly once you slide into a booth in the corner. “I thought we were discussing any cover stories we were doing.”

“You came up with that.”

“You weren’t on board with it.”

“It just took me by surprise this morning.”

Leon sighs, massaging the bring of his nose like this whole thing was giving him a headache. To be fair, it probably was, but you weren’t too keen on trying to push it. After all, you were the reason he was on this wild goose chase during his vacation time even if he was the one who practically forced you to take him along.

“Playing house isn’t going to kill us,” you assure, glancing at the other customers minding their business. “We can be the absolute picture of a newlywed couple until this is all finished.”

Leon peeks up at you with uncertainty. “You’re sure about this?” 

“I’m sure.”

“Right,” Leon breathes out, folding his hands and leaning forward on his forearms, fixing you a look that says he's settled on a decision about something. “Just for now.”

The store owner comes by, placing your drinks in front of you and a few paper bags with what you’d ordered. He sends a not-so-subtle wink at you, saying, “It was nice meeting you guys. You keep him in line, alright?”

You giggle and poise yourself in a way that makes you nothing but innocent. “I always do, don’t I?”

“To some degree,” Leon mumbles under his breath, taking a sip of the coffee he’d chosen. 

Your thoughts clear when you get proper food in your stomach and you finally gain enough sense to properly take in the café you'd found yourself in. It's definitely small, with only a few tables being occupied including you and Leon, but the service seemed nice enough. There's no time to let your guard down, though, so you shift in your seat and clear your throat, getting Leon's attention.

“So Williams’s place is just a couple blocks away,” you begin. “He’s the operator of exports and imports of the J.I.E. so he was absolutely vital within their operations.”

Leon busies himself with taking a bite out of the banana bread he'd gotten. Did he even really like it? “Did you have to encounter him often?”

The question leaves a bad feeling rolling in your chest so you choose to avoid making any more trouble than what was necessary.

“Not much,” you say. “He’s good with his words, though. You’ll want to be careful if we do happen to see him since he knows both of our faces.”

“He’d attack us in broad daylight?” Leon’s brows furrow.

“No,” you shake your head, sipping on your own drink as you try to form a way to explain it to him. “Agents in the J.I.E. are trained especially in stealth so if I were to hazard a guess, he’d have someone stalk us and then send an assassin to put us out of the big picture."

"Is that what they did with you?"

You tilt your head, trying to think since it's been a good while since you were on a rookie's level. "I was taught a little more than just typical stealth. I was only dispatched to your location once they knew I could get myself out of a tight situation effectively."

Leon hums, leaning back in his seat and giving you another look that you can't discern. "I see."

The question rolls off your tongue before you have the sense to stop it. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're trying to find something, but you can't." He's never done that before when you'd been fighting. It's frustrating, knowing that even though you've picked out his mannerisms on a microscopic level, you couldn't catch it all.

Leon blinks before leaning back forward and saying lowly, "Maybe I am looking for something, but you're not letting me find it."

What?

"What's that supposed to mean?" You huff, folding your arms across your chest. Instinctively, your thumb rubs circles on your upper arm. "C'mon, Leon. When are you going to stop being so cryptic and just give me a straight answer?"

"I could do that," he muses, crumbling up his now empty paper bag, "but, it's more fun not to. You're a smart girl–you can figure it out."

 "Flattery won't get you anywhere with me, Kennedy."

"I'm not trying to flatter you."

The two of you come at a standstill as you try to decipher whatever puzzle he thought would be funny to put you in and he waits patiently for your answer. This whole rivalry between the two of you was a battle of the minds just as much as it was of strength when actually fighting, but this has to be one of the most confusing things you had to unravel about him. When he wanted to, Leon really could be an enigma. 

He holds his emotions close to his chest–you know that much. 

People have recounted that he's charismatic and charming, though you've seen less of that side and more of the stone-faced agent who doesn't let any of his internal feelings show. You only know this because you'd been trained to do the exact same thing. Thinking about it, the J.I.E. had just been building you up to be someone who could stand up against someone of Leon's caliber, and the realization that you really were just a weapon in their eyes makes your whole mood sour.

"We have to get a move on," you interrupt the tension and put an end to your small staring contest. "We should get this visit over with as fast as possible."

Leon frowns, not used to seeing you give up so easily but shuffles from his seat to follow you out of the booth. The two of you throw away your trash and push back out into the blinding sun that causes you to shield your eyes, looking around and finding a gap in the crowd to start moving in. Leon trails close behind, his hand brushing yours as he fits himself next to you in the sea of bodies. 

Your heartbeat quickens for a moment and you wonder why his touch suddenly burns in a good way. 

You make your way past the multiple stores looking for the familiar sign that you'd seen before while watching your surroundings. Even though the city isn't the largest you've ever been in, it's still pretty big and the buildings stretching up to touch the sky aren't anything to play around with. The air is still cold but with the peak of the sun, it provides a source of heat to combat it. 

When a certain sight catches your attention, you glance back to Leon and point at the building. "There it is."

You break away from the crowd with him hot on your heels as you approach the automatic sliding doors. The rush of warmth from the temperature outside is a blessing, and you adjust yourself to your surroundings. It seems to be just an average clothing department, though you're determined to figure out if it was anything more than that, which was highly likely. 

You and Leon had agreed that you should do your shopping here so that you could knock it out within the day before washing it at the hotel's laundry room unless you get caught. It's a low possibility, but a possibility nonetheless, so you resolve to be extra careful as you stray towards the women's section and start picking out clothes. 

You stay simple with some t-shirts, a couple pairs of pants and shorts, socks, and a pair of shoes. An employee catches you browsing and she makes her way over, looking between you and Leon before her eyebrows raise at the sight of him. 

"Hello," she greets overtly enthusiastically. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

She's talking to him more than she is to you, but it's not something that concerns you really. At the most, she'd ask for his number and he'd give her some burner digits before you left. 

"I think we've got it all handled, thanks," Leon answers, and you can feel him keeping an eye on you as you pretend like you're looking for something you like even though you have enough outfits to last a week. 

"Good!" She says, pausing awkwardly before speaking again. "I'm sorry, you're really good looking. Has anybody ever told you that?" 

"Some, I guess."

"Well–um–can I get your number? If your friend doesn't mind, I mean."

You catch his eye and the discomfort in his expression is evident. You understand why, what with the employee coming incredibly strong onto him for a stranger who just thought someone looked nice. Sparing him some grace, you move closer just enough for him to use you as a scapegoat if he wanted. 

He takes your incredibly subtle hint immediately. 

"This is actually my wife," Leon rushes out, a little too fast if you were critiquing him, but you can't fault him for it. "We're here on vacation."

You give her a little wave, and her eyes latch onto your hand where absolutely no ring lies on your bare ring finger.

"Oh," she says flatly, all of the false bravado she built up wilting immediately though her disappointment is shadowed over quickly by the customer service facade. "Right, sorry. Then you guys should go to the Silver Orchid. It's a fancy restaurant around here that makes for a good date spot so I'd recommend going."

"We'll look into it, thank you.” You smile and she falters. 

"Okay, well, let me know if you guys need any help," she says and walks away, going faster than the usual gait.

Once she's out of ear shot, you hear Leon mumble. "Thank you."

"Of course." The earnesty in your own words surprises you. "Should we start investigating?"

"You don't want anything fancy?" He asks, motioning vaguely in the direction of the portion of the women's section that held dresses, skirts, and flowy tops. There was really no reason to dive into it. 

"I don't really need that kind of stuff," you frown, confused as to why he was asking. 

Leon, for the first ever time in all the years you've known him, is flustered. "Well it looks like I'm treating you to dinner tonight, so…"

You stare at him in wonder, mouth dropped open in slight amazement at the tension lying in his shoulders and the way his skin reddens with embarrassment. Never before have you seen him like this and if you didn't know any better, you might've thought he really was asking you out on a date. He wouldn't ask you of all people, though, so why he'd ever want to go out pretending to be your husband more than he needed to baffles you.

Perhaps he just wanted to make the most of his actual vacation. That made sense.

Right. That must be it. There was absolutely no other reason for him insisting shyly to go to dinner at a fancy restaurant that couples frequented, and there was definitely no reason that him insinuating this fact made your palms clammy and your stomach flutter like those romance novels always talked about with the butterflies. 

"You're sure about this?" You ask, parroting his question from earlier when he asked if you really were okay with posing as a married woman. "We can just hit a pizza place on the way back or order something at the hotel, you know."

He doesn't meet your eyes, which is uncharacteristic of him. 'I'm sure."

Softening, you feel vulnerable in a way you haven't felt ever since he stitched up your back–maybe even more so now. "Alright. You'll have to spend a couple extra so I can doll myself up properly."

"You know money's not an issue."

"I know, but I just wanted you to know."

What was happening? What happened to hating him to the point of being ready to shoot him as soon as your finger got to lay on a trigger? What happened to heated words and fighting viscously and being ready to cut each other's throats open whenever there was a chance for it? Sure, you had agreed on civility, but you're pretty sure a peace treaty didn't involve going out on faux dates and feeling things you shouldn't. 

When did this all change? When did this all shift?

Has saving your life really been the turning point in this situationship?

You ponder over these questions as you go through the dresses in your size. There were multiple in a myriad of colors in a variety of shades that you couldn't even name, and they were all cut in different shapes and unique designs. However, you really couldn't think straight enough from being torn between picking something nice and wondering about the things you were feeling when Leon unknowingly left you in torturous suspense. 

"You'd look good in this one."

His voice pulls you from your wandering and you look up to see him tugging on a navy blue number that wasn't too flashy and wouldn't show off much of your back. It could easily be remedied with a cardigan, and he had a point that it was a very pretty dress.

"You think so?" You ask, shuffling through the hangers until you find it in your size. It's nothing you've never worn before and a slit is revealed in the side that would trail up to your thigh. You've worn more revealing things before, but this is the first time you’ve done it for something that isn’t necessary to the mission.

"Yeah," he agrees. "You should go try it on, and maybe try and see if there's anything in the dressing rooms that piques your interest."

Oh, that smartass.

"You're right," you murmur. "They might be hiding something in there, huh?" 

"Couldn't hurt to check."

You pick up a black cardigan that would fit with the whole outfit along the way before finding the dressing rooms, picking one at random, and getting into one of the small cubicles. You're alone with nothing but the soft glow of the lights that surround the full-length mirrors that show off every angle of the body needed.

First and foremost, you touch around the walls for any possible hidden panels, but you come up empty handed. As far as you know, activation mechanics could be hidden anywhere but perhaps that's not what they used here. You check the hooks which turn out to be just an average rack screwed into the wall, and find your last resort in the mirror panels. 

You tug on the bottom of the central main panel and it gives away to your surprise.

There's a steel door hidden behind it with a thick gry block affixed next to the handle. The metal is warm and faintly, you can feel the hum of some sort of electricity going on behind it. Whatever they were hiding here, it sounded complicated and big, and there's no telling what was behind it. You make a mental note about it as you close the panel back and make sure it was firmly reattached. 

You nearly walk out of the room before realizing that the dress you’d picked up was still hanging innocently on the hook.

A frown makes its way onto your face with uncertainty, insecurity rolling in your chest before deciding to give in. It’s been a while since you went out for a nice dinner since you preferred not to get pity looks ordering a table for one and dates were practically nonexistent. You’ll play along for now. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

Turns out, it hugs your figure just right and you wonder silently how for all Leon’s worth, he’s managed to pick out something that you agreed looks at least decent. The addition of the cardigan adds to the flair, making you something dark and mysterious, and your imagination provides a candid shot of you and Leon side by side clad in navy blue hanging on each other’s arms.

He’d look good in a suit.

You hurry to change back into your previous attire, cheeks flushing as if someone had caught you fantasizing about something you shouldn’t be. Making a mental note to pick up a pair of fancy shoes next, you make your way out of the dressing room with the dress slung in the crook of your elbow and find Leon absentmindedly browsing belts.

“You’ve fortunately got an eye for women’s fashion,” you say, and he perks up upon hearing your voice.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Have you got anything fancy enough for a date night, Mr. Kennedy?” 

He seems to process the teasing lilt to your voice, blue eyes conflicted before he turns away, not looking at you as he replies, “You underestimate me, Mrs. Kennedy. Of course I’ve got something.”

Your mouth drops open, staring after him as he begins striding away, clearly intending for you to follow. Disbelief covers your expression as you trail behind him, still trying to understand what he was trying to do other than lightening the mood. Surely he wasn’t as forward as this when he really was trying to flirt with someone?

Then again, playing pretend for a mission could hardly count as flirting.

“We’ll hit shoes and make-up then go, Sound good?” Leon suggests, stopping when you don’t answer him. 

He looks down at you as you shake your head slightly, clearing your overanalyzing moment and blink. “What?”

He doesn’t explain anything for a second, only giving you that soul-searching gaze again, before smiling gently as if he found a hint of what he’s been looking for. “Nothing you should worry about. C’mon, the sun will be setting by the time we get back to the hotel if we keep going at this snail’s pace.”

You nod, following behind him, eager to get out of this place so you could safely tell him what you’d found in the dressing room out of earshot of any potential enemies. Well…you also might be entertaining the idea of getting to know him better over some good food.

And outside, the persistent ice finally begins to melt.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

It's been a long while since you had dealt with makeup, fancy outfits, and elegant things. 

For a good while, you had nothing that was ever soft or fragile, but rather your training had hardened you and roughened your personality around the edges so much that they had sharpened into something dangerous. You were an agent, meant to live a secret life in the shadows gaining information for your bosses, and survival was the key term to your success. Fragility wasn't an option, and your looks didn't matter when bruised and bloody out on the field.

However…this hasn't ever hurt anyone.

When you and Leon had returned to the hotel suite with arms full of shopping bags and aching feet, you took hold of the bathroom to resign yourself to doing your preparation of your look in there. A hot shower was the perfect distraction from the heart beating strongly in your chest in anticipation of what may happen tonight, and your fluttering nerves weren't any help either. 

A shame to say that the makeup brushes felt foreign in your grasp and it takes a moment to remember what everything did and what they were used for. 

It comes to you eventually, and you fall into a vaguely nostalgic and familiar routine as you pick through all your products carefully and choose what you'll use. Going for a natural look with accents to pop, you steady your shaking hands and lose yourself in the delicate motions of dolling yourself up. It doesn't look bad at all for someone who hasn't touched this stuff in years.

The dress comes next, and when you slip it on, you feel like a whole new person. Even just standing barefoot in the bathroom only halfway done with your whole set, it already feels like you could forget about the life you're leading. Maybe for tonight, you and Leon could be normal for once without any bioweapons or governmental duties or even feuds. For tonight, you could be whatever you wanted.

With this new mindset, you heat up a flatiron and wait patiently to spruce up your hair. There was no need for any intense changes, but just a touch up went a mile and once you'd gotten it to where it flowed with the look, you hair sprayed it and let it sit. All that was left was the shoes and once you had those on, you'd be ready. Some small part of your thoughts wonder what Leon would think of your whole get up. 

When you step out, the cool air hits you, but it's not wholly uncomfortable. 

Leon turns around when he hears you exit, and he's in a simple navy button-up paired with slacks that probably cost more than your salary. Your face reddens when he doesn't hide the way his eyes rack up and down your form, taking in this new version of you like sweetened honey on his tongue.

"You look good," he murmurs, almost as if in a daze. "Really good."

His words make that simmering fire in your gut rise like a title wave and every sense gets cranked to a hundred. Sparks travel along your skin as you manage to keep your composure and not melt.

"You don't clean up too bad yourself, Kennedy," you reply, despite your head swimming with shameful thoughts of how damn good he looks when he's not in sweats. It's unfair dealing you these cards when you're supposed to hate him. 

You pass by to grab shoes and go to check yourself in the mirror, bending down to adjust the straps before standing straight and looking at your reflection. You really did look like a whole different person. A faint feeling of pride pulses in your chest and you turn to ask Leon if it was really okay, but the change in your position makes your small rare smile fade.

Without the cardigan, the scars are on full display for anybody to see and pick through. The rosy filter falls away and you're left with the brutal reality of what you really are–that this is all temporary no matter how much you avoided returning to the truth. 

Your eyes can't seem to tear away from the view of your back, pulling all of your attention away from Leon, and you don't even notice when his reflection joins by your side in the mirror. 

"Hey," he murmurs, earning a faint flick of your eyes toward him in recognition. "None of that, okay?"

"But-"

"But nothing," he says firmly, and the words of protest die on your tongue. "C'mon. You look great."

"What's the catch?" You ask sullenly, snatching up your cardigan and throwing it over your shoulders–anything to get those reminders of shame away from your vision. "You'd never compliment me without wanting something in return."

Leon shakes his head. "Nothing. I can't compliment my not-wife whenever I want?"

That pulls a huff of a laugh from you as you roll your eyes, but you know he can probably read the reluctant amusement pulling at your painted lips. Since when did he know how to lighten up your mood so easily?

"You can compliment me when we're in public and have to convince people we're actually married," you decide, moving past him towards the door. "And yet I don't even have a ring on my finger. What a shame."

"I didn't think you were interested in material goods," he comments, opening the door.

You walk out into the hallway, waiting for him to close the door and make sure it was locked. "They say diamonds are a girl's best friend."

"I thought your best friend was that magnum you almost took my eye out with."

"...You got me there."

You don't trust Leon to get there safely without crashing the car into a pedestrian so you convince him to fork over the keys once you reach the vehicle. He only pouts minimally, but eventually gets over himself after you tease him for being the optimal passenger princess. He has a map built into the screen on his dashboard so you look up the name on the search bar and find the address. 

You put the vehicle in reverse and back out, pulling out of the parking space and navigating out into the city roads. 

Honestly, the sunset looks just as pretty as the rise was in the morning, but this blaze lasted just a tad longer. It's so bright that you have to lower the sun visor just so that it isn't intruding into your eyes. 

"I'm curious," Leon begins from your side and a spark of interest rolls in your chest. You've been doing that a lot lately, being constantly attuned to whatever he was doing at the moment and whatever he says. It's ridiculous. "How come you've never been here if it's so close to the location you left?"

You frown. "You're curious a lot."

"Sure."

"Well," you breathe in, taking the chance to switch lanes and find some small comfort in the rhythmic beat of the turn signal, "I was pretty wrapped up in work to travel too far from the lab they had me at, and vacation days were rarely given out but it was more than enough to pay the bills. My apartment was in a different direction from here in a sleepy town that was off the map."

"That sounds nice," Leon murmurs and you have to huff out a laugh at that. 

"It was when I got to go. Landlords were a bit disgruntled since I was almost never home, but they got the payment from me and that's what mattered." You think about it, missing your old place already and how you'd tried to make it your own. It's not much, but it was nice enough in case anybody came over. 

Nobody ever did.

"Is that something you see yourself having in the future?" Leon asks.

"What?"

"Like a home that's away from all this crap. You know, something…quiet. Peaceful."

"I'd like to think so," you shrug and toss him a sad sort of smile. "But, I never got to experience it for real so I wouldn't know."

He doesn't say anything after that and you continue down the road in a settled sort of silence. The place isn't packed that much when you arrive, and you make a mental note to pay Leon back for everything he's done so far. At the least, this was some plot to get you in his debt to cash in a favor later, but at the most, it was light charity work.

You park into a vacant spot and turn the car off, lifting the visor up and opening the door. 

It's hit golden hour and it's evident when you spot Leon on the other side getting out. The small breeze sweeps his locks slightly and the glow of the sun casts him in an entirely new light. It was almost like this morning in your quiet moment at the window but magnetized and bumped to a hundred. In this setting, you think that some women would have killed to be in your spot, even if this wasn't a real date. You imagine he must have a lot of suitors at home. 

It makes you wonder if he had someone waiting for him and was just playing this whole thing out for fun. Maybe you were just his weekly entertainment for now.

You shake off that uneasy feeling and tear your eyes away, walking to the back of the car. He doesn't immediately follow, and a glance back lets you know he's staring after you as if he'd found something in you again that he'd been searching for. He still refuses to elaborate on that point, but it doesn't seem like anything to be worried about so perhaps Leon was just a naturally weird person. 

"You coming?" You call back to shake him from his stupor and he ducks his head, embarrassed. You'd almost call it cute. 

Almost. But you don't.

The Silver Orchid appears to be an incredibly expensive dining space, with a patio strung with strings of lights and set out with tables that were currently occupied by a few people. It's an incredibly modern black and white design complete with silver accents. When you walk up to the door, Leon pulls it open and holds it for you, and you can't stop the smile that crops up at the action. 

A chandelier hangs in the entrance, and the pathways behind the host stand splits into two ways. The gentle chatter of people could be heard in the background as the sound of a soft orchestra rang out from the speakers overhead without being overbearing. Even just from here, you can see the extravagance of the building and you almost feel out of place. You almost forget you're just standing in the middle of the doorway until Leon taps your arm to remind you where you are. 

The hostess greets you with a genuine smile–or at least much more convincing than the girl in the clothing store–and asks how many she'd be seating. 

"Just two," you answer, folding your hands politely. 

"Great!" She gathers up two menus and rolls of silverware before asking, "Would you like to be seated inside or outside?"

You look at Leon who shrugs helplessly.

Forming the perfect picture of a couple, you giggle and turn back to the hostess who waits patiently for an answer. "We'll take it outside."

"Perfect," she grins and waves you to follow her. "Let's go get you seated."

Outside reveals a wooden patio with floorboards that are more stable than the ones at the motel, and an aesthetically pleasing set up. Only a few people are out here, and as forewarned, most of them are couples. The hostess seats you at a table in the corner that gives off a view that isn't just parking lot and road, and assure you your waiter will be by shortly. 

Before you get a chance to move, Leon pulls out your chair and allows you to sit and adjust before placing himself on the opposite side of the table.

You raise an eyebrow, slyly asking, "You really know how to show a girl a good time, huh?"

"Only ones who can treat me right." Leon slides over a menu, winking in a way that would have had you on your knees.

He's given you the same answer you had said way back in the motel when tensions were high and you'd agreed not to kill each other. You're surprised he remembers such an insignificant moment, but then again, he was Leon Kennedy–the agent who always had to be on alert twenty-four seven and wasn't allowed to let any details slip. 

"Smooth," you allow, picking up the menu and glancing over it. "Jesus Christ."

The prices were insanely high for meals that were portioned incredibly well–you'd definitely be taking something to go seeing how much the pictures depicted the dishes. The numbers were making you anxious for no reason, though you felt bad that Leon would have to be paying for both you and him. 

His foot nudges yours under the table. "I hope you're not thinking about what I think you're thinking of."

"I can't help it," you mumble. "You're taking most of my paychecks when we get out of this whole mess."

"Haven't I already told you money is an issue?" He asks, though it's not unkind and more bordering on a playful scold rather than him being actually irritated. You've seen him angry and this definitely wasn't it. "I'm under direct orders from the president. One of my paychecks could probably pay your rent and utility bills five times." 

"Show off."

"I'm just saying," he holds up his hands as if surrendering. "Get whatever you want. When's the last time you ever did something like this?"

He has a point, unfortunately. 

"I'll pay you back somehow," you insist, though in what ways, you don't know. 

A waiter comes by, eyes light and smiling cheerfully. A notepad is in his hand and a sunny disposition to greet you with, he clears his throat like he was ready to recite some memorized speech. 

"Hi, welcome to the Silver Orchid, folks. Can I get you something to drink to start off?" 

Leon lets you order first, then chooses a beer that you purposely wrinkle your nose at. Before giving the go-ahead, he also orders a bottle of champagne and raises an eyebrow when the waiter disappears and asks, "Not a big drinker?"

"Not beer," you answer truthfully. "Tastes like fermented motor oil–but I didn't peg you to be the type to like it."

"Nah," he shakes his head. "Beggars can't be choosers, though. Hope you like champagne."

"It's been a minute. You're not trying to get me drunk and get me to spill all my secrets, right?"

He tilts his head, trying to get inside of your brain to see the way it works and what your line of thinking might be. "Whatever secrets you might have can stay yours. Maybe this is some big ploy of mine to finally get your number after all this time."

Your mouth drops open, and that smug little smirk causes that war of conflicting emotions to start warring in your chest. Leon leans forward on his forearms as his foot knocks into yours again, and it's something that strikes you as peculiar though you can't exactly place why. He's got enough spatial awareness to know where you were and definitely has enough reason to need to know what you were doing, but his advances were confusing you. 

He wasn't really trying to romance you. That much had to be obvious. 

Sure you both could play husband and wife all you want, but at the end of the day, you don't have a ring on your finger and you've given each other more wounds than you could count on both hands. Leon must really be letting loose if he's in a mindset that is willing to come onto you of all people. 

'Believe me, you're the last person in the world I'd ever try to flirt with.' he had said. 

You suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day. 

"You're ridiculous, Kennedy," you roll your eyes and lean back in your seat, kicking him lightly back. "I don't even have a phone number to give you so you're out of luck." 

"Ah," he mockingly sags and frowns. "I'll get 'em next time."

You snort, challenging him with a jut of your chin. "There won't be a 'next time' since you'll be distracted by the next decent-looking woman you see."

His eyes flash dangerously and a shiver rolls up your spine. You try not to show it. "Is that so?"

"I'm sure of it."

Leon doesn't get to answer since the waiter comes back with your drinks in hand and two champagne flutes alone with a dark green bottle. He sets it carefully on the table, setting to work on pouring your first glasses then taking out a notebook to take your order for meals. 

You'd decided on something that wasn't too astronomically high but also just enough so that you were indulging yourself the way Leon had encouraged. Still, you can feel his gaze on you as you order before smoothly doing the same. The waiter smiles, assures you he'll be back, and takes your menu before leaving. You curiously pick up a glass of champagne, watching how the bubbles fly inside of the liquid. 

"I'm surprised they had this brand," Leon mentions passively as he picks up his own flute before holding it out to you expectantly. "To truces?"

You smile and huff out a small laugh. "And to successful missions."

The glass clinks against each other sharply. 

"Amen," he mumbles before bringing the flute to his lips. You find yourself staring at the action longer than you should, watching the way his mouth is shaped around the rim of the glass so minutely perfect. Your thoughts stall, wondering just how many people he's kissed with that mouth. 

Would you be willing to be added to that list?

You almost drop your glass at the sudden thought, avoiding his questioning gaze as he looks back up at you. Your cheeks flush darkly as you busy yourself sipping your own champagne to avoid the obvious tension hanging in the air that asks why you were acting the way you were. Instead, you focus on the crisp bubbles popping over your tongue and hum appreciatively on the fruity taste that didn't stray to overbearing.

Your lipstick leaves an imprint on the glass. 

"That's better than I remember," you say, hoping the color would drain from your face eventually. "It's been too long since I had a good proper drink."

"They really kept you busy, huh?" Leon's mouth turns down into an unsatisfied frown. 

You trace the rim on your glass thoughtfully. "They did. But I got to see a lot of new places since I was shadowing you a lot."

"Yeah? Mind telling me about it?"

You search for any kind of lie in his eyes, the way you might try and see what he was hiding up his sleeve or if he was planning anything but you find no such facade. At this moment, it really feels like everything will be okay. Maybe right now, it's okay to allow him to see the person who'd been trapped under so many layers of disguise and hatred.

Somebody who loved to travel and see sights and only put her roots down when she was dead. Somebody who had no concept of home but had a love for the thrill of adventure. Somebody who couldn't possibly be trapped under contract with a company that held all her free will.

"Alright," you sigh, thinking back. "Where do you want me to start?"

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

There's nothing but rain. 

Thunder rolls darkly in the sky as lightning illuminates the near-black clouds and large puddles create mirrors on the muddied ground. All around you is nothing but wet wasteland dead knotted tree roots braiding up from the ground and curling around before diving back beneath the soil. There's no green or splashes of color from wildflowers–there's just ruin and destruction.

A whispering voice invades your mind, murmuring sinisterly. 

"Look at what you've done," it says. "Is this what you wanted?"

Nothing but death and decay–is that what you wanted? Was this the wish you had? You look down and find your hands coated with thick blood that does not wash away even under the sharp assault of raindrops that fall hard enough to nearly pierce through your flesh.

No matter how much you scrub, no matter how much you pray to some false god, there was blood on your hands. A fact you cannot change. 

"Is this your happy ending?" The voice says this time.

You look past your bloodied fingers and find cold lifeless eyes staring up at you. They're the color of the sky, the ocean, of sapphires gleaming in dark and rough places, and you've looked into them enough times to know who they belong to. His body lays in your arms, and blood–his blood–drips down your skin. 

Leon is cold. You should give him a jacket…or something to protect him from the rain.

"Why did you lie?" The whispering has risen into a tidal wave that threatens to tear you apart. "Why did you lie?! Your words meant nothing–nothing!" 

"I'm sorry," you mumble and your eyes sting sharply. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't bring him back," you stare at yourself across the wasteland, your expression betrayed and so so angry. "Sorry won't change the fact that you killed him!"

"I didn't mean it."

"I hate you."

"I should've…" Your mind becomes detached as you look down at Leon again, and realize that he's not just cold. He's turning blue, going into rigor mortis right there under the same hands that had killed him. The tears roll from your eyes and suddenly, you can't tell what came from the rain and what came from you. 

"Am I to pay for this?" The other version of you pleads, voice cracking and failing. "Am I to pay for you killing Leon?"

"Who are you?" You mumble brokenly, bringing up one of your filthy hands to caress his face that has long since gone. "What does he mean to you?"

"I'm you," they say, "and you killed the love of your life."

Thunder shakes the whole terrain enough to cause your eyes to fly open as you gasp sharply for air. Your eyes are wet and your cheeks itch with dried tear tracks as you pull yourself up to wipe them off furiously. The dream blossoms in your mind like a memory, a haunting little night flower unfurling its petals for the moonlight. What did that whole thing even mean? 

The dinner last night had resolved beautifully in a way you'd never expect before. The champagne had made you lighter than ever and the food was better than anything you've ever tasted in your life. You'd exchanged stories over the bottle, sharing perspectives of missions you were dispatched on after him and for the first time ever, he felt more like a friend than someone you had fought tooth and nail to try and kill. It was wonderful, something new and fresh and exciting. 

What about that could possibly herald such a horrendous dream?

You look around the room, trying to gather your bearings. Leon had insisted you take the master bed while unloading the pull-out bed the couch had inside of it. You'd been hesitant about him having such a flimsy mattress, he's reminded you that he's slept in worse places. It didn't bring much comfort to you, but you could tell he wasn't budging on the subject. 

Right now, though, he wasn't in bed. 

The covers had been tossed carelessly aside and the pillow had an indent of where his head must have been. You look towards the bathroom but find no light shedding underneath the door. Upon waiting for a few minutes, you don't hear the toilet flush or the sink running so you get up, padding across the soft carpet silently and carefully twisting the knob in case he really was inside and could alert you that it was occupied. 

Unfortunately, no such call came. 

The bathroom was empty, and the little night light inside provided just enough visibility to prove as such. Confusion spreads through your mind as you wonder where he could possibly be. Surely he wouldn't pay for a hotel suite just to leave you on your own? He wouldn't just abandon ship like that and besides, you saw his luggage still in the room when you had gotten up to investigate. 

It's then that you turn around from the bathroom and realize the curtains over the sliding glass door to the balcony are drawn only slightly, making a crack where they should have overlapped. It wasn't enough to arouse suspicion under normal circumstances, but you had made sure they were drawn tight right before you'd gone to bed under the paranoia that anybody could peek in.

You quietly look through and spot Leon's shoulder just around the corner. He's not pressed up against the railing as if he were stargazing, no. His arms look to be folded tightly across his chest, body swaying as if he were talking to someone. 

You reach toward and crack open the door, ears straining as their conversation becomes audible. 

"You don't need to worry about her," he's saying. "You need to let this go."

"Leon," a sultry feminine voice reaches your ears and your heart flips in the cage of your ribs. "You never know. What if she's just waiting to get you close enough to kill you? What would I do without you?" 

"You need to find a new trick," he sounds like he's scowling. "Ada, believe me when I tell you she's nobody. She means nothing to me." 

The sting of unsaid rejection almost knocks the wind out of your breath and effectively kills anything you were planning to say. Leon moves and you get a good look at the woman he's talking to, finding her staring up at him through seductive lashes that would be enough to entrance any man. 

Red flashes on her body and you think that she's enchanting enough to be a perfect match for Leon, darkness in her eyes as she looks defiantly up at him. 

"Come on, Leon," she sighs. "We both know that's not true. It's not safe where she's going–you could die in that lab."

"I know."

"And yet you'll still go?"

"I have to," he grunts stubbornly. "It's a part of my duty as an agent. I expected you of all people would understand that."

"Believe me, I do," she snaps. "I just don't see why you would aid her of all people. I'm trying to help you out here."

"And I don't need it."

The two stare down in a tense silent match until Ada finally relents, backing away and pulling something out of her pocket. She shakes her head in obvious disappointment, and you think you even see a hint of sadness that he won't see her line of reasoning. 

"Until next time," she promises and presses the trigger. 

A grappling hook shoots out from the end of the gun and there's a moment of goodbye where Ada tugs him down to her level, pressing a chaste kiss to Leon's mouth. She backs away, hand lingering on his cheek before flying off the balcony and disappearing into the night. 

You don't know how to feel as Leon stares at where she'd disappeared to. 

Did he really mean it when he'd said you meant nothing to him? Why did you feel like he just tore your heart out and stomped on it until it stopped beating before spitting on it for good measure? You ache, pushing the door back closed and stepping back towards the bed. A war rages in your head, chastising you for being so dumb and mourning that he had said you meant nothing to him, though you don't have enough sense to form a coherent opinion about any of it.

You burrow back under the blankets, pretending like you were still sleeping when Leon eventually comes back in as silently as he can. You can almost feel him looking at you and you wonder if he's debating on letting old habits die hard. Maybe he'll take out a handgun and end it now. You don't have any conviction to stop him. 

There's a pregnant pause before he whispers, "Did I wake you up?"

You don't answer, choosing to remain blissfully silent with a smoothed out browline to paint the perfect picture of slumber. He doesn't say anything else but only chooses to go back to bed as if nothing had happened, and the almost inaudible creak of the springs in the mattress let you know he's settled back in. 

All your hope drains from your body in that moment, unhappy and feeling understandably betrayed. Even if you hadn't made up, you'd assumed you meant something to him in the same way he meant something to you when you'd been fighting. Could it be possible that you were just another side piece in his story? Perhaps Ada was his lover trailing behind him and making sure that nobody was trying to advance on him. Would she be after you now that she knew you were sleeping in the same room and playing husband and wife with him?

You weren't after him anyway. Were you? You couldn't tell after all this time. All the moments you catch yourself staring at him longer than you were supposed to and pondering what it would be like to be able to kiss him in the way she had probably meant something unless it was just the hormones speaking, though you sincerely doubt it. 

You're too tired to make any sense of it.

Images of your dream flash in your mind–to his lifeless eyes and dead body in your arms, feeling a pain worse than any torture you'd been subjected to purely for the fact you knew he wasn't coming back. That you'd been the one to end him only made matters worse, and those lasting words you'd said to yourself still resonate in your head loudly. 

You'd been told you killed the love of your life in that cryptic little dream of yours.

Surely he wasn't that to you. He was nothing more than an impromptu business partner at best for right now, right? But, he was so charming and knew all the ways you ticked like the back of his hand. Is that what made you nothing to him? Were you no longer mysterious and exciting enough for him to keep on going like this? 

Night terrors were nothing new. They'd been a constant ever since your first mission where you'd been forced to toss a hand grenade into a crowd to stay alive, and you remember the limbs flying as the blood spattered across your skin warmly. With each new mission comes a new setting for your fucked up brain to twist every night. Some are easy to get over–easy enough that they don't affect you for the rest of the day. However, some showcase some of the most abysmally crude deaths you've ever had the misfortune of witnessing, replaying it like a radio stuck on a loop. 

This? This was something new. You've never had night terrors about something that never happened. 

You know this by the way Leon's breaths transition from that uneven pattern to something more steady and peaceful until he's letting out light snores that tell you he's completely under. He's alive, quite the opposite of dead, and certainly not a living flesh bag controlled by a virus or a parasite or something insane like that. 

Still, uncertainty reigns in your mind. 

Something bitter touches your tongue and you flinch, feeling that cold and angry feeling buzzing in your bones. Something in your mind that doesn't allow that grudge to die the way you want it to, urging you to end it all now and trying to convince you this thing either ends with you or him. You know better, but it doesn't make anything much nicer. 

You close your eyes, a frown on your face and hesitancy in your heart. 

Well…it was only a matter of time.