#just because she refrains from doing/liking something doesn't mean i need to refrain from doing/liking it to

[arminsumi]

ADULT STORE

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."

1.5k words

Pt. 2

Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)

Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈

Playme : wanna know what it's like?

The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.

The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.

"Yo."

Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.

He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.

"Ah, h-hello..."

He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.

"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.

"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."

Yeah, that's what I thought.

He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.

"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"

His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.

"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."

Aw, of course.

"M'kay... then let me assist you."

He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.

"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"

"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.

I know exactly what she needs...

"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."

His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.

Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.

"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"

Aw, she's flustered.

"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."

Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.

"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."

There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.

He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.

"This one's got ten functions—"

"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."

"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."

The two of you share a long look, then laugh.

"But it really is an excellent product."

"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.

"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."

I could make her squirt.

He's running his eyes up and down your body.

"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.

"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."

He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.

A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.

Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...

He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.

"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.

You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.

He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.

"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.

"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.

He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.

"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."

"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."

Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.

His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."

After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.

He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.

He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.

"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."

He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.

"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?

"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"

"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"

He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.

Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.

He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.

She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.

You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.

"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.

You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.

"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."

"Fuck, okay."

And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.

"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.

Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.

His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.

This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.

"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.

Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.

"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."

And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.

Please cum on my face. Please please please.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"

You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.

He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.

"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"

Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[isekyaaa]

This went through my head when I was writing my previous post, but I dislike the concept that you shouldn't do something if someone doesn't like it. Personally I feel it's unrealistic and very.... uwu safe-space-y.

In the case of my previous post, it'd be the fact that the villainess doesn't like the male lead, and yet he consistently puts himself in her presence. Someone can say that he shouldn't do that because she doesn't like it. But as that previous post pointed out too, they are in a political engagement decided upon by their parents. As nobles, they have obligations to fulfill. What they personally want doesn't matter. There are times you have to do things you don't want to do because it is your responsibility to do so.

I also think that going too far in the above mentality infringes upon your right to live your life. If you know someone doesn't like you at work, are you expected to accommodate them by avoiding the break room and bathroom in fear of running into them? If dogs give your friend anxiety, will you let that stop you from owning a dog? If your friend dislikes a specific person that you personally have no issues with, will you avoid that person to respect your friend?

While the first two are easy to decipher, I know the last one will catch people's attention. Personally, if the person you dislike didn't maliciously harm you in some way, I feel you have no right to expect your friends to avoid that person.

To paint a picture, my friend really disliked this one girl because she was a whiny attention seeking flirt that flirted with anything that gave her attention, even guys eight years younger than her. They even had a few clashes here and there. However, even though she may not have liked it, even she realized she didn't have the right to stop me from interacting with the girl. Whatever beef they had was between them. It would be unfair to me to rope me into it, especially because I was friends with both of them before the clash.

While I do believe in the golden rule of not being a jackass, there is a difference between being a jackass and asserting your right to autonomy. The sad fact of the matter is that you can be the nicest person in the world and still upset people. You can still make people uncomfortable. Not only that, people have different thresholds with what they are able to handle and what they will allow. What's important to realize is that these thresholds are subjective. Your thresholds will only match you, so don't push them onto other people.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Alastor's reaction to "Bitch, what's for dinner?!"

There is no way in Heaven or Hell this man is every saying this to you. He'd be terrified of his Mama hearing him from Heaven and coming down to reinstill the fear of God into him. Wooden spoons and switches hurt when wielded by a righteously angry woman. Not that his mother hit him often (his father did more than enough).

And you value your life and your relationship with him to try it. In fact, it probably doesn't even cross your mind to test it.

You're not even sure why it's trending. It is a really sweet video and highlights the lingering effects of abuse, but for people to recreate the video is odd to you. I mean, maybe not, because you see a lot of cosplay under the sound, and you'd be lying if you didn't agree with some of the ships being perfect for this audio. But like, you don't want to recreate it with Alastor.

So how would it come up?

Well, you and Alastor are sitting together, it's later in the evening, he's reading his paper and listening to radio and you are sitting quietly beside him, phone volume and brightness on low so you can watch a few videos, the compromise you made with Alastor about technology being near him.

The sound comes across your feed paired with yet another couple re-enacting it and from the corner of your eyes you see Alastor's ear twitch as the door slams on the video and the man shouts at his girlfriend.

The second she responds with the timid "grilled cheese" his head snaps towards your phone, the video glitches, and your phone shuts off (at least he's stopped breaking them).

"How distateful. And to be comfortable with others seeing him behave so brutishly. Clearly, men today need to be taught manners, their poor mothers. What an embarrassment to have your child turn out so disappointing."

You lean against him and pat his arm.

"If you'd have waited until the end, you'd see it's just a trend. People yell this at their partners to see how they'll react, if they take that abuse or not, and if they do, they always reassure them to never let anyone speak to them that way. I think it's supposed to be cute and supportive."

Alastor rolls his eyes, muttering about how nonsensical that is. You get your phone working again and decide to put on a true crime podcast to listen to before getting up. It's your turn to make dinner, so Alastor's your helper and dishwasher tonight. You wait for him to finish his page, set his paper aside and stand, his arm going gently aroind your waist as you two stroll to the kitchen.

He stops in the entryway and turns to you.

"For the record, I should hope I would never stoop so low as to treat you that way, but if I do, or if something I say or do truly upsets you or harms you....please do not refrain from telling me."

You laugh and kiss his cheek. "Just telling you? Usually those videos end with their parnters granting permission for their partner to slap them."

Alastor chuckles. "If you feel it's necessary. Though I'd prefer we just talk."

"I'd prefer that too. And same goes for you, always tell me if I've crossed a line."

"Of course, my dear. Now, I'll demonstrate the proper way to phrase that question."

He takes your hand dramatically, lifts it to kiss the back of it, and guides you fully into the kitchen. "What are we making for dinner, mon cher?"

[cherrylovelycherry]

Okay, maybe Ratio x gn!reader tarte aux fraises? i know u love ratio muehehe

.note. omg oke oke, i know what i have to do. ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ (I always end up writing so many words that I have to erase pieces of the original idea. T_T)

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises."

Try hard

pairing. dr ratio x gn!reader cw/genre. angst, academic pressure, ratio being rude, again. synopsis. Like he said, you just need to try hard. And if you can't handle the pressure, what better than to withdraw from medical school? full menu

"No," His eyes on you, by those sharp words, coming together with the other glances of your classmates.

"Uhm, would it be a possible case of appendicitis?" You spoke, something nervous, but your words were almost like a question rather than an affirmation.

"Wrong,"

His voice again, almost as if he were glad of your mistake.

"Are you answering or are you asking me, Y/N?" Ratio spoke, almost with a despicable tone.

You just looked down.

It was almost always the same, for him, all your answers are wrong, he always had to find something wrong with what you said.

"If you're going to answer again as your classmate, refrain from talking and just say you didn't study anything." Ratio said, for all your classmates in the room.

"Honestly, I don't even know why I still continue teaching some of you."

Oh, and you knew perfectly well that he was referring to you.

He says, almost as if your existence were a total nonsense for him.

"All of you are dumb, you all have the same level of intelligence as an Earthworm, maybe a little less than one even." His words come out almost sharp again.

"How can it be possible you can't even answer the simplest question?" Ratio spoke out, almost frustrated by the lack of intelligence on most of his students.

Your cheeks became red, the way Ratio spoke was always so harsh, so harsh and direct, and even more so if it was you who answered a question, he never missed an opportunity to show that you were wrong in front of everyone else.

"Now, that's enough chit-chat, back to the topic." He looked at the board, his expression was somewhat serious, his arms behind his back, as he stood in the middle of the classroom.

"The appendix is a small, worm-like structure that branches off the back of the colon. It's located in the lower right lobe of the abdomen. The main problem with appendicitis is when it becomes infected and then blocks all waste product from leaving the colon." He spoke, standing at the front of the class.

"What does that mean?" he spoke again. This time with a much easier question than he asked you.

"Mhm, you," he pointed to a student.

"…That means all the waste from everything that comes through the digestive system doesn't have anywhere to go, and can back up into all of your abdominal cavity," She said, with some nerves, but keeping her words as firm as she could.

"Correct." He spoke, as he saw her answer, with a much calmer expression this time.

"The appendix becomes inflamed and very sensitive when an infection begins to form in it. You can experience fever chills that go down into your groin like cold water. The most common pain is in the abdomen, specifically in the lower right side. It can be mistaken for a stomach ache, or even menstrual cramps. But with further care, it can be determined as appendicitis." Ratio speaks again, almost a little happier.

"Anyone else?" He asked.

"If there is no intervention, it could explode," this time you dared to speak again, trying to sound firm.

"A precise answer, even from you, for a change," He spoke with a little more than a sarcastic tone, but as usual, he can't seem to say anything without adding an annoyed tone to everything he says.

"That's true. An appendix that is left untreated can burst, or perforate. But not always because of pain close to the appendix area will be necessary to remove or attempt an intervention." He says, as he returns to look at the board.

"If the appendix bursts, the pain might go away, but a much worse process, is going to start. The appendix will begin to break down, and the bacteria and pus from the organ can pass into the abdominal cavity, causing a widespread and severe infection. This is called peritonitis." Ratio spoke, his voice almost firm, and serious again.

You felt somewhat calmer, but still, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

Was it necessary that I always talk to you like this?

Because after all, you were his partner.

Ratio kept his eyes on you for a few moments, as if analyzing your expression. He almost always knew when you had those thoughts.

As he finishes speaking, the class bell begins to ring, almost as a sign that the class just ended.

"You are all dismissed." Ratio said, putting his hands behind his back, his eyes looking at the students as they began to leave the room.

You focused on keeping your stuff, without a hurry, because you weren't very excited to eat in medical school. The food wasn't so good or appetizing there.

The room was getting emptier and emptier, except for just the two of you, since you were the last one to leave.

Ratio leaned against the front of the desk, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, he had something in mind to discuss with you.

"Y/N." His voice came out quite firm, and almost demanding.

"Yes?" Your voice almost sounded like a whisper, a whisper of nervousness, still, you answered him.

You could already feel what kind of a talk he was going to have with you now

Ratio seemed quite serious, his eyes almost fixed on you, as if analyzing your every move.

He waited a few seconds before speaking. He still retained his serious expression.

"You're falling behind on a lot of the classes." He spoke, with an almost severe voice.

You just looked down.

He knew that you didn't always answer very intelligently, but it seemed like he just liked using every single opportunity he got to be harsh on you.

His arms were still crossed in front of his chest, keeping his position in front of the desk.

"I know…" your voice came out a little smaller this time.

Ratio sighed, he didn't change his position or expression, on the other hand, yours became somewhat more tense, you already knew that he was far from finished.

"Not only that," he continued to speak, his voice now more demanding.

"You don't usually answer my questions as intelligently as you should. You answer in ways that are almost as unintelligent as the others." he spoke again, his voice slightly higher than before.

"You know you should study more."

Again, a tone that seemed somewhat irritated.

"I am,"

"You're not." Ratio continued, his voice suddenly became very firm.

You can't help but feel even more self-conscious, more tensed than before.

He was right, even if he was, he didn't always have to say it that way.

"I don't even know why you're still in this class, if you've answered right a small percentage of times."

"But i'm trying, Ratio," You spoke, this time directing yourself towards him as your equal, as you did in private.

"Trying," He repeated. "You are just not trying hard enough."

Ratio's hands now moved from his chest, to his sides, still leaning against the table.

That didn't seem to change his expression at all, the same seriousness.

"You need to study more, you need to stop falling behind so much, to be more firm, and at least,"

He stopped, for a few seconds, as if thinking of his next words.

"To answer my questions correctly more times than you already do, stop with this mediocrity."

His tone became almost more severe.

"Honestly, I don't know why you don't take your time to pay more attention." He continued, with that severe, demanding tone.

"You're not in your old secondary education anymore, these are more complex medical concepts to treat complex diseases."

He said again, still keeping his tone and position.

"I'm going to try harder," you said.

"You better."

Ratio's answer was short, but the seriousness with which it was given almost made you even more tensed.

Again, a few seconds of silence, Ratio seemed to be thinking of his next words.

"I'm going to start being more demanding with you…" he spoke, leaning a little more against the desk, his eyes still fixed on you.

"I won't let you pass with the bare minimum in my classes" The feeling you have after you hear those words is the most nervous of all.

Ratio always got that demanding, and hard tone when talking to you about studies.

You know perfectly how serious he was when he said that.

"I won't go easy on you anymore," he says, in a much firmer tone.

"From now on if you don't answer correctly more times than you do now, you won't pass my classes."

Ratio was very strict with his classes, and even more so when it came to you.

"No more mediocre answers, I want you to start actually using that brain that you have." His tone now very demanding.

"You are going to start giving more intelligent answers, and not stupid ones that any other student could give."

A few days have passed since that talk between you and Ratio.

He has become much more demanding, and much stricter with his classes.

His questions were much harder to answer, and he always waited for intelligent answers from you.

He had put you in the spotlight every time you were in class, he had increased the number of questions he asked you, and every time you answered, he seemed to be analyzing your every word.

But of course, you noticed, in your nervousness after saying 'medium-great' answers, how your classmates didn't answers difficult questions like you. Not to mention that there were always two or one student whom he always congratulated for her efforts.

Ratio continued with the same demanding attitude, continuing to set high standards for you.

He kept asking you difficult questions, and even if you answered one correctly, he would go on to another, more complex one.

He didn't miss a single opportunity to point out your failures, and you could always see the satisfaction on his face, whenever you got the answer wrong.

Even now, you can feel his gaze on you, as if he's waiting for you to say something wrong, to see him frown.

The way he seemed to be always focused on you in the class, no matter how hard you answered the questions.

Everyone could tell that even though you were his partner, he didn't spare you from his demands for answers.

You had to constantly use that huge book, and study more and more every day. It was becoming tiresome because you barely had time for anything else, and on the other hand, your classmates seemed to be studying less than you.

The bell for the end of class had just been rung, the majority of the class was already picking their stuff to leave.

But you knew very well that Ratio was still there waiting for you to approach.

And yes, you were going to do that.

With calm steps and somewhat anxious, you approached the large desk near the board.

"Uhm, Veritas?" You said, carefully.

"Can we eat together?" You asked, knowing that after this class he would no longer dictate another one in the day, and you too, had no other class for today.

Ratio was sorting through some papers, putting them in various folders on his desk, with that same serious expression he had the rest of the time.

When he heard your voice, he stopped sorting papers, and looked at you.

His eyes seemed sharper every time you looked into them.

Without taking his eyes off you, he placed the last folder in place, and rested his hands on the table.

He didn't answer immediately, as if he was thinking about your request.

"Is there a reason?"

Ratio's tone was somewhat firm, his eyes still fixed on you, as if questioning why you, out of nowhere, suddenly wanted to eat with him.

"No,"

You didn't really know why, either.

Maybe it was because you didn't want to be left alone. Or maybe because you needed a break, your brain had been filled with so much knowledge, so much information that you felt it was going to explode.

"I just want to be with you," Your voice coming out a little more nervous this time.

Ratio was still looking at you, his eyes, very much analyzing you, as if he was searching for a real reason.

It was always like this with him, he never answered anything immediately.

Still, he didn't take his eyes off you, as if he was analyzing your thoughts, your request, and your every action.

Finally, after a few seconds, he spoke.

"Did you study?" He spoke, with that demanding but firm tone. His gaze was still fixed on you.

Your body slightly tensed up. You knew that if you hadn't, he probably wouldn't eat with you.

Even if he was your boyfriend, he was always like this.

"I did," Your voice came out with a small firmness, you actually spent the night studying.

Ratio kept looking at you carefully, his expression didn't change, he seemed to still be analyzing you, as if searching for lies in your eyes.

"How many hours?" His tone was still demanding, but he always made sure to correct you, to be even firmer with his words.

On the other hand, you were getting nervous. It was true that you spent all night studying, you didn't even have time to sleep, but if you said that, he would probably make you feel guilty for it.

So to not prolong the question, you gave a firm answer.

"Six hours, I swear."

Your voice was still firm, but nervousness was clearly expressed in it.

Ratio didn't change his expression, his eyes were still fixed on you, as if he could tell if you were lying or not.

He kept looking at you, in those few seconds he didn't say anything. Still looking at you, until he broke the silence.

"You haven't slept any?" His tone was much more demanding this time, his brows slightly furrowed, as if telling you that it was a mistake.

You knew perfectly well that it was a mistake, you already regretted it the moment you said it.

A small feeling of guilt took hold of your body, knowing that you were about to be scowled for that.

"No…"

You said, trying to keep your voice somewhat firm, but nervousness was present in it.

Ratio crossed his arms in front of his chest, and his eyes became more severe, almost with annoyance at your answer.

You knew perfectly well that that would happen.

"How are you going to study properly if you don't even sleep?" He questioned, in a demanding tone, as usual.

If you didn't sleep, he would scold you and if you slept, he would scold you too.

At the endings, it happened, as always, you even shed a few tears.

And it seems that that gave him remorse and he ended up agreeing to eat with you.

Your eyes were somewhat swollen, not much, but they were.

He made sure to hold your hand while eating quietly in a cafe near medical school.

You could notice how he was looking at your eyes almost every second, as if seeing the tiredness in them.

He almost looked like he felt guilty for making you cry, but he would deny it.

Ratio knew how demanding he could be, and how it could affect you.

But of course, he didn't apologize, because that would imply admitting that he was wrong.

You could see how he squeezed your hand, carefully while eating, as if making sure that your hand wouldn't slip from his.

It was quite obvious that he felt regret for making you cry. No matter how hard he denied it, his actions and his grip on your hand would always give it away.

The rest of the lunch was a little quiet, both of you only spoke a few words from time to time, not a lot.

He still continued to eat in silence, watching you from time to time.

His grip was firm on your hand, a little tight, but it didn't bother you, it was rather calming for you.

When he finished eating, he got up, and pulled you to get up from your chair.

He still had a firm grip on your hand.

"Let's go." Was the only thing he said, as he started to walk out of the cafeteria with you, your hand still attached to his.

Ratio started walking, with you following behind with your hand in his.

He wasn't walking too fast, or very slow, he was walking at a reasonable pace, but he made sure that you kept up.

He pulled you to stick to his side, and he made sure to look at you every few seconds.

You were walking in almost total silence, no one dared to say anything, and this was a little strange. Normally he was the first to say something.

His tight grip on your hand, his way of looking at you from time to time, made you feel a little nervous, but at the same time calm.

He didn't say anything as he walked, but you dared to say something.

"Where are we going?" You asked quietly, looking up slightly at him as you walked.

He looked at you, and his grip squeezed yours a little. Ratio spoke again.

"To my apartment." He replied, in the same firm tone.

"To your apartment?" You were a bit startled by that answer, because there was no way he was taking you to his apartment.

"Don't be tense." Ratio said, his tone was somewhat firm, but softer than before.

Before you could say anything else, he continued to speak, his words were firm and demanding, almost leaving no room for questioning.

"We're going to there, you're going to take a shower, and then you're going to take a long nap.

"I don't-"

Before you could reply, Ratio quickly cut you off. "I don't care what you're about to say, you need to rest."

He spoke with that firm but authoritative tone.

"You're going to take a damn shower, and you're going to take a damn nap for as long as it takes to get you back in shape."

In a way, that made you smile.

His actions showed you that he still cared about you.

The last few days that had passed, were… very different. You spent them at Ratio's apartment.

Each day ended with him scolding you for studying so much, and falling asleep on his couch on several occasions.

You loved those moments with him, in spite of everything, you were really in love with him.

However, as quickly as those butterflies arrived in your stomach, they disappeared faster than they appeared.

"Incorrect again, Y/N,"

He said, holding his hand to the bridge of his nose.

"U-uh…" you said, feeling watched and judged by all your classmates at that moment.

You were currently in practical classes, you no longer just theorize.

"Less than a minute for the patient to bleed," he commented again, ratio, with total disapproval in his speech.

You stayed there, thinking about what to do, your mind running in circles to decide what to do.

And, without further ado, the girl that Ratio always congratulated, took her tweezers from your hands, starting to suture the patient.

You felt so stupid in that instant, the classmate that Ratio always complimented, always approved of her, even congratulated her, had just taken your tweezers from your hands.

You felt the gaze of your classmates on you. You could see that they were either feeling sorry for you, or judging you.

Ratio was silent, he looked irritated, but he wasn't scolding you.

The classmate who took the tweezers from her hands, finished suturing the patient completely, in what seemed to be a couple of seconds.

Talent always wins the effort.

"You've failed another suture." Ratio spoke, almost annoyed by your failure.

As always, whenever you made a mistake, he was always making sure to point it out, making sure to shame you in front of the rest of the class.

His disappointment was evident on his face, in his tone, his gestures.

"It's ridiculous, you can't even put a few damn stitches on a fake wound. How are you going to be a real doctor if you're always messing up everything?" His words were harsh, very much. His expression and his eyes, sharp, as always.

"You're not taking this seriously, you're making the same mistakes again and again." He continued, in the same irritated tone.

How could someone who studied so much, who spent many hours studying, fail so much? How could you fail so much, even though you spent so much time with the person who always seemed dissatisfied with you?

Your classmates' gaze, Ratio's gaze, your own self-judgment, and your frustration for being a complete failure, was too much. You felt your eyes begin to tear up, you could feel your hands shaking. You felt more and more nervous with every word coming out of his mouth. It wasn't just from the pressure, it was also from the frustration.

How was it possible, that he had so much patience, and complimented your classmate, even celebrated that she could suturate a patient, when you couldn't do the same?

His words, his looks of disappointment, they were starting to take their toll on you.

"You're right, doctor," you said, accepting his words, so that he would at least stop scolding you publicly. Ratio kept looking at you, that annoyed look still on his face.

You looked really small in his eyes. Small and weak, a complete failure. That's how he saw you at that moment.

"At this rate, I'm tempted to say that you're never going to be a good doctor."

You just nodded, not knowing what to answer, or if you should respond to that in the first place. The medical career was not easy, there were always scolding for everyone, but not scolding all classes with him.

You heard him say, 'Well, let's continue…', as he moved on to another kind of exercise.

You let your other classmates get closer to the practice stretcher, staying at the end of the group.

All you just did was play with your fingers and bite your lip, so you didn't cry. Because you couldn't even get out of the practice chirophan, because you'd have low grade. Although well, what a lower grade could he put on you if you already pulled the first exercise.

You looked up in the direction of Ratio, who was correcting a couple of your classmates on something. He was always correcting something, especially you.

Your eyes were beginning to become slightly red.

You really hated the suturations practices, you were never good at putting in a few damn stitches.

You were always clumsy, and your hands always trembled when you took the tweezers, like they were shaking now.

Why weren't you as talented as them? Why couldn't you even do something as simple as suturing?

"You're shaking, are you alright?" A voice came from behind you, you recognized who it was immediately.

It was the classmate who always did sutures perfectly, the one Ratio always complimented. She had a worried expression in her eyes, but you couldn't help but feel complete rejection and repulsion towards her.

Her question made you feel more humiliated.

"I'm fine." You replied, trying to sound firm, when in reality, your voice was on the verge of cracking.

She looked at you, not seeming to buy the answer you gave her.

She could see your hands shaking and you were biting your lip, it didn't seem like you were fine.

"Are you sure? You don't look very-" she tried to speak once more, but you didn't want her to continue.

"I said I'm fine, alright. Stop asking me that." You said, a little harshly, hoping that would make her shut up. Her eyes widened slightly at your response, she was surprised by your response. But, instead of being angry, she continued to look sorry for you.

"I'm just trying to-" she was about to say something again, but you were already fed up with her.

You were fucking jealous of her.

"Well, I don't want you to! Stop acting like you care about me!" You snapped at her, your voice louder than you expected it to be.

The rest of the class had turned their heads at you, including Ratio.

Why the hell did you do that?

The whole room was silent, the only noise present was your agitated breathing.

Ratio walked up to you, his eyes firmly on yours. He looked irritated, no, he looked angry at your reaction.

"To the hallway, now." He said firmly, gesturing for you to walk towards the hall.

You felt the eyes of your classmates on you, as you slowly walked out of the class, with Ratio behind you.

Once you got into the hallway, he closed the door behind him, leaving both of you alone in the hallway.

He looked at you, you could see irritation in his eyes.

He was completely irritated with the attitude you just had.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He said, his voice almost sounded like a whisper, but still firm.

"Why the hell did you lash out at her like that?" He continued, he was waiting for an answer, an explanation for your behavior, and he wouldn't accept any bullshit excuse.

You stood there, not knowing what to say, and avoiding looking directly at him.

You didn't know how to explain your attitude, you yourself didn't even understand why you had done that.

Maybe it was because you were irritated, annoyed by her, or just because Ratio paid more attention to her or others than to you, no matter how much you studied.

And you couldn't understand why that girl was always so perfect either. The perfect student, the one who always did the exercises and sutures perfectly.

You were increasingly sure that talent far outperforms effort.

As you stood there, avoiding looking at him, Ratio was growing more and more impatient as the minutes passed. He expected some explanation, an answer to his question. But all he got was silence and you avoiding his gaze.

"Are you going to answer or just stay there, biting your lip?" He spoke again, this time with a firmer tone.

Again, you stayed there, still and saying nothing.

"Okay, then," he said, entering the practice chirophan and closing the door behind him.

You stood there, outside the practice chirophan, alone, on your own, with only your thoughts swirling around your head. You could still hear your classmates continuing practicing suturing in the chirophan, while you were left outside.

Your mind was a mess, going from one thought to another, from one feeling to another; anger, frustration, confusion, disappointment.

And jealousy. A lot of jealousy.

You could hear Ratio's voice, scolding other students. And again, you heard him compliment the girl who always does sutures perfectly.

She was talented, she was perfect, the best student in his eyes. He seemed to adore her, much more than he praised you.

It was not possible to know with that man, he was a mystery.

You walked over and sat down on one of the seats in the hallway, your body completely tired. Both physically and mentally.

Poor girl, you were jealous of her, when not even she did it on purpose to be better than you.

The lesson was finally over.

You were sitting in the hallway, waiting for the whole class to leave, so you could enter and say something to Ratio.

But, to your annoyance, the girl who always did the perfect sutures, was one of the last to leave.

She was going to talk to Ratio, it was obvious.

So, you stayed in the hallway, watching as Ratio and that girl talked for a long time.

She looked happy, with a smile on her face. Ratio seemed in a good mood, he was listening to her speaking calmly. In fact, he was smiling, he was never usually that warm.

That image, that situation, it only irritated your mind more.

But you wouldn't do anything, because there was nothing to do.

Besides that in medical school, he was your teacher, not your boyfriend. So professionalism on his part was always ahead.

As the last student left, Ratio opened the practice chirophan and found you sitting on one of the seats in the hallway.

He looked at you, and for the first time, he had a slight hint of disappointment on his face.

He just looked at you for a few seconds, almost as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't.

He just let out a slight, silent, almost inaudible sigh.

"Come here." He said, gesturing to you to walk towards him.

You stood up, from the seat. You were about to walk towards him but, you suddenly felt nervous, your heart beating a little faster.

What if he wants to discuss that you're always getting low notes on the practical work?

Or maybe he wants to tell you that your effort is useless, because you'll never be as good as the other students.

Or even, he wants to kick you out of class for your recent behavior.

However, his words surprised you.

"I'm going to help you study," he said.

You really expected another scolding from him, but his words were soft.

Perhaps the excellent work of the best student in your class had change his mood.

"But I don't-"

Before you could respond, he cut you off, almost knowing what you were going to answer.

"I wasn't asking you, I was telling you." He said firmly.

He wasn't leaving room for questioning, if he was going to help you study, there was no use in trying to decline his offer.

In spite of everything, you couldn't help but get excited.

The thought of having his attention, and having an extra private class with him. You were really going to like it, you wanted to be alone with him.

In a way, it was a great opportunity to show him what you were capable of doing, and that you too had potential.

He gave you a small smile, as he saw the reaction on your face. And then he added, "We're starting today."

…

You liked being next to him, you feel like at school, almost like a teenage romance.

You were writing carefully what he explained to you, while he had an arm on your shoulders.

It moved you and made you nervous, even though your relationship was almost two years now.

He explained, corrected and commented, as usual. You nodded, listened and wrote what he said.

Everything was going well, until he suddenly paused, and he let out a sigh.

"There's something important I need to tell you." He said, suddenly, in a serious tone.

Your hands suddenly froze halfway between the page and writing. His words, his tone, his gaze. It made you feel nervous, your heartbeat increasing.

"What is it?"

Your voice came out in a somewhat nervous tone.

For a few seconds, he was serious, he didn't say anything, he just looked at you.

His eyes looking into yours, in a somewhat serious and intimidating way, before his expression suddenly change to one of slight annoyance.

"What the hell was that, what you did the other day?"

Ratio asked, suddenly changing the subject of the conversation.

You tensed up a bit, and bit your lip.

You knew immediately that he was referring to the little tantrum you threw, that day.

"I was…" you were at a loss for words, you didn't know what to say.

"I was just frustrated." You finally managed to say, your voice a bit low.

"Frustrated, right."

Ratio responded, in a slightly mocking tone.

"So you were frustrated, and you decided to take it out on a classmate, in front of the entire class?" Ratio looked at you, with that same serious and slightly annoyed expression.

Your heart was beating fast, you felt slightly guilty, knowing you acted inappropriately.

"I know it wasn't the best way to react, but…" you tried to explain yourself.

"No buts." He cut you off. "You embarrassed yourself, and you embarrassed me with your poor and childish behavior. As your teacher, I shouldn't have to deal with your tantrums.

His words stung a little, you felt ashamed.

But there was something else, behind his words. The mention of 'As your teacher'.

"I know, I'm sorry." You mumbled, looking down to the floor.

"I expect you to act like an adult. So I hope you'll apologize to your classmate." He said.

"I will."

You said, still avoiding his gaze, you didn't want to see his eyes, to see his expression.

That day wasn't the only one he helped you study on.

But as always, for him, everything was wrong in answers or in your diagnoses.

As you wrote down one of the last points of the list he had given you, he spoke up, looking at what you had written.

"That is incorrect," he said as he looked at one of the points.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide at his words. How could it have been wrong? The doubt began to consume your mind, and you felt frustrated that you weren't able to do everything perfectly.

Your frustration was beginning to grow, you had just spent hours studying and here he was telling you that you had all the things wrong.

You tried to protest, you tried to explain your answers, but he shut you down every time. His voice became sharper and firmer every time, he was losing patience with you and your constant mistakes.

Finally, he slammed the book on the table, the loud noise echoing through the empty room.

"That's it, enough. You're not getting anything right," he said, his voice stern.

You felt a pang in your chest from hearing his words. How was it possible that not a single thing you wrote was correct? Why couldn't you understand the concepts? Why were you always making mistakes?

Your hands began to tremble as you clutched the pen in your hand, your heart beating fast

You wanted to scream out in frustration and ask him why you weren't getting the answers right, but you knew he wouldn't be patient with you anymore.

"You should try harder, I'm going to do an exam on these topics for you all," he said.

And yes, you had to study alone, as you normally did.

But you didn't really understand why you didn't get any answers right.

Literally that's what books said, your answers were even the same.

So, what was happening to you?

That test was going to be in a week, and you were extremely stressed about it.

You had to prepare for the exam given by Ratio, but it wasn't easy. Despite reading the material multiple times, something wasn't clicking in your head.

The formulas, the methods, the diagnoses, nothing stayed in your head. And when you attempted to answer the questions, you found yourself making mistake after mistake.

After studying a few nights on your own, it was time to take the exam.

The day of the exam had arrived.

The atmosphere in the classroom was tense, everyone seemed nervous. You were shaking, your hands trembling as you clutched the pen. Everyone around you seemed to understand the material, but you were struggling.

Ratio started handing out the test sheets to each one of you, until he reached your desk.

He placed the paper in front of you, and your breathing hitched.

You dared to hold your gaze on his, for at least a while, looking for some security that he could give you.

But there was no security in his gaze.

He didn't give you any special look, no secret glance or anything that could make you feel more confident.

His expression seemed serious, almost like a challenge. It was clear that he expected nothing from you, to his eyes you weren't going to do the test well.

He knew it, and you knew it.

And as he finished handing them out, he spoke.

"You have an hour to finish. Start now." He announced, before going back to his desk.

You looked down at the questions, and your heart sank.

They were difficult, they were complex, and they were things you had never seen before.

You felt your hands begin to sweat, and your mind went blank. You tried to recall the information you had studied, but it was like trying to remember a forgotten dream.

The other students around you seemed to have no trouble with the test, they were already beginning to answer the questions.

But you, on the other hand, were stuck on the first question. The words and numbers on the page became a blur, your mind in complete mess.

As minutes passed, you found yourself still struggling with the first question. Meanwhile, other classmates were already on the second or third.

The pressure was immense. You tried to focus, you tried to concentrate. But your mind was racing, your heart was pounding in your chest.

You could hear the sound of the other students' pens on the papers, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the silence of the classroom.

Every sound seemed to echo in your head and only added to your anxiety.

Time was ticking by quickly, and you could feel your anxiety growing with each passing minute.

You had already spent 45 minutes on one question, and you hadn't even reached the halfway point.

Until you saw some of your classmates raise their hand so that Ratio could approach them and answer their doubts about some questions.

They were getting help, while you just sat there, panicking.

You wanted to raise your hand, to ask for help, just like the other students.

But you didn't do it, you didn't dare to. You felt too ashamed and embarrassed to admit that you were having so much trouble with the test.

You just continued staring at the exam, trying to decipher the questions.

And, with only 4 questions out of 20, you dared to raise your hand as well, so that he can get closer as well.

You looked up a little bit on your exam, watching it approach students back and forth.

Your still hand raised, you even moved it a little bit, to see it.

And so he did, he saw you for a few seconds, before approaching another of your classmates.

Your heart sank again.

You couldn't believe what had just happened.

He knew you were struggling, he saw you with your hand raised. But despite that he avoided you and went to answer someone else's doubts.

You felt a pang of pain in your chest, like a stinging realization.

Ratio didn't want to help you, he was ignoring you.

You weren't like the good students, the ones he always said were talented. You were just the one who couldn't understand anything, no matter how hard you tried.

You lowered your hand again, feeling humiliated.

With your cheeks somewhat red from shame, you lowered your gaze towards your exam, almost empty.

You tried to do it, you really tried.

Without realizing it, your eyesight was blurred, as you continued to try to write down what you found most coherent.

You were crying in the middle of the exam. But what a shame.

Well, at least you didn't sob, you just let the tears slip out of your eyes, because because your head was somewhat tilted down, it was more accessible for the tears to come out.

The time passed, and the other students handed in the exam sheets, one by one. And you were still on your seat, trying to come up with at least a minimum of sense.

The tension in the room grew with each passing minute.

You could feel the weight of everyone's gaze, even if no one was looking at you directly. It was like everyone was silently waiting for you to finish, to see if you could do it or not.

But the answer to that was becoming more and more evident with every passing minute.

And yet, you still tried, you tried so hard to write something.

You felt a knot forming in your throat as you tried to hold back your tears, but it was difficult.

Ratio's words echoed in your head again, "You should try a little harder."

How much harder did he wanted you to try? You were already struggling to keep up, and now you were literally crying.

With all your effort, you managed to answer some more questions. But still, the test paper looked almost blank.

Many of your answers were incorrect, even if you had tried your best.

When the time finally ran out, Ratio spoke up.

"Time's up," he said in his usual strict tone, standing up from his desk. "Those of you who haven't handed in your sheets, do so now."

You felt a wave of dread wash over you. You were one of the few who still had the papers on their desk.

Slowly, you raised your head to see that almost everyone else had already handed their papers to him.

With shaking hands, you gathered the papers on your desk and got up.

Your legs felt weak, but you somehow managed to make your way to the desk.

Ratio was there, waiting for your paper. He looked slightly indifferent, as if he was expecting this outcome.

You handed him the sheets with trembling hands, feeling a sense of shame and embarrassment. The weight of your poor performance was heavy on you, and you avoided meeting his gaze.

He took the papers without a word, and as he did, your eyes darted down to the answers on the paper.

You could see his expression of disappointment.

…

And it was worse than what you imagined.

Red marks and crosses were all over the page, almost each answer was incorrect.

After a week, he returned the exams to everyone in the classroom.

You didn't know how to hide your grade from the students sitting near you.

There was a big 0 on the exam cover.

A 0, no points at all. You had failed the test completely, and the evidence was there, for everyone to see.

The shame and humiliation hit you like a wave. Everyone was looking at their grades, comparing them and discussing among themselves. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

Ratio spoke up again, drawing everyone's attention. "As you can see, the results of the exam were… Disappointing."

He said, his eyes skimming over the class.

His eyes landed on some students, commenting on their good grades.

"But, there were some good grades. Congratulations to those who did well." He spoke, in a matter-of-fact tone.

You knew you'd never be like them.

When he finished the class, it was relatively short, as most of the time it was used to solve the exam together.

You rushed to grab your stuff by keeping your exam in your bag, before you left the big classroom, feeling nauseous.

The rest of the day passed by, but the shame and humiliation from the exam still lingered. You couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment, and the thought that you were the worst in the class.

You tried to avoid your classmates' gazes, fearing they would whisper or make fun of you.

The hours went by slowly, until the day had ended. You found yourself walking back home, feeling down, with your head hung low.

And then, you suddenly heard a voice calling out to you. "Y/N," the familiar voice said, and you froze.

You knew who it was.

Slowly, you turned around to see Ratio standing there, a few metres away from you. His expression was serious, his eyes fixed on you. Your heart started racing again, and you nervously clutched your bag strap tighter. What did he want?

He walked closer to you, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

He stopped a few steps away from you, looking down at you.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, his voice firm. You swallowed hard, nodding silently.

You were too afraid to speak, your throat was dry, as if you had never swallowed saliva again.

He motioned for you to follow him, as he walked towards a quieter part of the hallway, where there were less classroms.

Finally, he stopped in a quieter spot, turning to look at you.

He looked directly into your eyes for a moment, his gaze intense.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke, his voice softer than usual.

"I suppose you know why I wanted to talk to you," he began, tilting his head slightly.

You nodded again, knowing what he wanted to talk about. The failed exam.

"Yes…" you whispered, your voice barely heard.

He let out a small sigh.

"Your performance on the exam… It was quite unsatisfactory."

His words were straightforward, he didn't hide his disappointment.

Your heart sank even further.

He was saying what you already knew, what he already wrote on the paper of red marks and crosses.

"I didn't expect much, to be completely honest. But I didn't expect such…bad results." He added, raising an eyebrow.

His words hurt, but you didn't say anything, you just stood there, looking down.

"I just don't understand," he continued, "I made sure to explain the concepts thoroughly. Why did you fail so badly?"

His tone was serious, he really wanted an answer from you.

"I really don't know," you mumble. Ratio let out a small huff, clearly not satisfied with your answer.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying you.

"You know, I've been teaching for years. I've seen many students who struggle, but not to this extent. You weren't able to answer any question correctly."

"I wanted help, Ratio," you said, again, muttering.

And yes, you tried to raise your hand so that he could also approach you that time, but he just looked at you and didn't come close.

You looked up weakly toward his eyes, holding his gaze a few seconds.

"I tried to ask for help from you, I raised my hand, but you ignored me," you confessed, your voice almost breaking.

He was silent for a moment, his expression slightly changing.

He seemed a little surprised that you had mentioned that.

He was about to open his mouth to speak, but then your voice spoke up again.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" You said, with a hurt voice, and your eyes started to feel moist.

His expression softened slightly. He wasn't expecting that question.

He saw the tears forming in your eyes, and his stern expression wavered for a second.

"No, I don't think you're stupid." He finally said, his voice slightly lower.

He paused for a moment before speaking again.

"But I can't deny that I'm...disappointed. I had hoped for more progress."

Your lower lip trembled slightly as you heard his words.

Disappointed. Of course, he was. Because you were the worst in the class, the one who couldn't understand anything no matter how hard you tried.

The one who would never be able to answer a question correctly.

"…I know…" you whispered.

You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they started rolling down your cheeks.

"But i'm trying my best. I swear I am," you said, your voice shaking.

Ratio didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at you, almost as if he was contemplating your words, your expression and your tears.

He watched as you cried softly, the tears running silently down your face.

He seemed to think for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice softer than before.

"I know you're trying," he admitted, and his tone wasn't as harsh as usual.

He let out a small sigh.

"But 'trying' isn't enough. You're always lagging behind. You never catch up. You need to do something different."

Your heart felt heavy, and your shoulders slumped slightly.

He was right, your 'trying' wasn't enough. It never was.

You heard him sigh, before you didn't realize it, his hands were on your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs on these to clean the tears.

"I want you to succeed,"

His touch was gentle, his thumb wiping away your tears softly.

You looked up at him, his expression was serious but not cold as usual.

"But you have to work harder for that." He spoke, his hands still on your wet cheeks. "You're smart, but clearly something is missing."

As his hands continued on your cheeks, you froze, feeling the unexpected touch.

He was wiping your tears, a gesture of… comfort?

At this point, you already believed his words.

'You're not giving everything about yourself'

'Study more'

'Try harder'

Everything that came out of your mind and mouth was wrong for him.

You sat on the small bench on the rooftop of medical school. That place had been your peacetime.

You found yourself again, frustrated, as you had the book open on your lap, with tears about to escape your eyelids.

That until someone else's footsteps resounded on the ground.

Which made you immediately turn your head.

"I knew I'd find you here," the familiar voice said. You turned to see Ratio, walking over to the bench and sitting next to you.

"The same place, for the third time this week," he added, his expression a mixture of concern and something else.

You wiped the tears from your eyes quickly, not wanting him to see you like this. But it was too late, he had already noticed.

He glanced at the open book on your lap, a small frown on his face.

"Still struggling?" He asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You just nodded.

You saw him sigh, before he took out a kind of sweet bread packaged.

"Here, eat this," he said, as he gave you what he had in his hand.

He knew you liked those sweet breads.

With resignation, you took the bread, and you took off the wrapper, starting to eat it, while you felt like you were going to cry again.

Ratio watched you eat silently, his eyes fixed on you.

He saw the tears still gleaming in your eyes, but you were trying to hold them back.

He let out a sigh, his expression seemed to be contemplating something.

Without saying anything, he moved closer to you, getting nearer.

He was so close, you could count the number of eyelashes he had.

He leaned towards you, and his hand raised to touch your cheek and so he did, stroking your face for a moment, before he laid a kiss on your temple.

The unexpected kiss on your forehead made your body tense up for a moment, surprise filling you.

The action was uncharacteristic as he was acting in a way he never did in the past.

You slowly turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression held a hint of affection.

He was still so close to you. So close that he could easily touch you again.

The simple contact of his, made the accumulated tears of before, fall down your cheeks.

You stuck your body to him, even chewing sweet bread. You had a frown, like you used to have now.

As you put your phone next to you, after dialing your boyfriend's number.

You keep looking at the practice sheet, gently banging the pen against the table.

It took him a few seconds for him to answer your call.

"What's wrong?" Ratio asked once he answered the phone.

You took a deep breath before speaking, trying to sound a little calm, but failing miserably.

"I'm stuck again," you confessed, frustration evident in your voice.

"You'll need to do this by yourself, this time." He said, and his voice was firm.

You felt another stab in the chest.

"But I-"

"No buts. You need to learn how to figure things out on your own. You can't always depend on me."

Another stab. Like a dagger.

Yes, the same thing happened again.

You were somewhat desperate, as your last exams went wrong and you only approved a few with the minimum note. And basically you needed 140 percent of 100 percent to pass.

The only thing that could save you would be the practical part, but you didn't even manage to master that.

You knew he was right, but that didn't make you feel any better.

You looked up at him with a sad expression, but all he did was look at you with his usual frown.

"You're not a kid anymore. You need to start taking responsibility for your own learning," he said.

You knew he was right, you knew you couldn't always rely on him. But it was hard to accept.

Especially when he was always so dedicated and patient with others.

"Being your boyfriend doesn't mean you have more priority or advantages,"

You felt your throat tighten, you had a lump in your throat.

But he continued speaking.

"I'm your teacher, first of all. And I should be as impartial as possible."

You knew that, you truly knew that.

How you wished that he would treat you differently from others just because, you didn't want any privileges, or anything like that.

You just wanted his attention, his help, his care. But all you got were cold remarks, like a teacher talking to a stupid student.

Oh, but you would remember her words whenever you were tempted to ask her for help.

And again, you believed his words.

He was right, it wouldn't be fair for others to teach you the most.

So, you had to put everything in about yourself, no, more than you could give, so you could study for your exams.

Especially because they weren't just any exam, they were almost a preview of the endings, and if you didn't pass all of them, you wouldn't have any hope of being able to pass the courses.

Because you need more note than you can normally get, that is, something impossible.

In total there were 6 courses, that of Ratio and that of other teachers. That in their classes you didn't do so badly, but you weren't the best either. you approved with scores between minimums to media.

You looked down, your fingers tightening on the edge of the desk.

"I know," you mumbled, feeling a lump in your throat.

He was silent for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice a little softer this time.

"I'm tough on you because I know you can do it," he said.

Your eyesight focused on the chemistry test, it was the first exam of the week, so you were, or at least you felt, that you were ready.

When you left the exam, begging you to do well, you had to eat a granola bar, while you were walking down the hallways, looking for your other classroom.

You couldn't see Ratio before you took the first exam, because you were going to be a little late.

Once you sat at the desk, with the pharmacology test in your hands, you started putting on paper the things you remembered, so you didn't forget.

It was two long hours, which you managed to finish and leave the classroom, completely tired.

But when you get home, you couldn't sleep, because you had to prepare for your other exams.

As you sat in front of your desk, it was already almost 10 pm.

And you were still studying.

Your eyes tired because of the many books you had looked through, and your arms aching slightly because of writing so much.

You were tired, but you couldn't afford to take a rest. You had to study for the other exams. You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes.

How long had you been studying now? An hour or two? You weren't even sure.

In the last few hours, you were studying for your other exams, including Public Health, Medicine 3, Clinical psychiatry, Laboratory diagnosis and the course in which Ratio will be present, Surgery 1.

Of some of those exams, most of them were written, the two of practice would be the same day.

You didn't dare send a single message to Ratio.

Or well, it's not that you didn't want to, you were too tired at this point.

You barely got out of the exam where you had to be in the lab, your eyelids every time threatened to close.

Now you had the exam.

You were scared, you even sweated from your nerves.

When you arrived at the respective practice chirophan, where all your colleagues would be taking the exam, your eyesight discouraged you.

They all looked somewhat tense, as they walked back and forth, muttering to themselves, what you assumed was what they learned in class.

You waited outside, along with them, before Ratio made them pass them all, to start the exam.

This consisted even the right only disinfected was also qualified, which made you tense. Although the cold water when washing your hands and arms helped you wake up a little.

Your breathing intensified.

Ratio stood in the middle of the room, and you tried to focus your vision properly.

He looked in your direction, for a second, his eyes on you.

Maybe he'd noticed how tired you were, but he remained silent. He just looked at you for a second, before looking back at everyone else.

And he began to speak.

"You all know how this works," he began, his voice firm and authoritative. "Each of you will take turns performing on a dummy patient."

You let out a shuddering sigh, trying to calm your nerves.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, as you watched your classmates take turns performing the practical exams.

Every time someone finished, Ratio inspected their work and gave them feedback.

You could see the serious expression on his face, his eyes never leaving the students as they performed.

Finally, it was your turn. You approached the dummy patient, your hands slightly trembling.

Ratio stood a few feet away, watching you.

When you started the exam, you tried to be as perfect as possible.

You tried to calm down, which was a bit difficult. Your hands was shaking.

'Try to breathe slowly, it will help you.'

That was what Ratio told you, and he was always right.

You tried to repeat in your head the steps you had to take to complete the exam.

You took a few deep breaths, in and out.

And finally, you began.

You feel much more pressure when you felt your classmates behind, that you were taking turns with when you performed a simple little surgery.

You started with shaky hands, to make cuts in the internal tissues of the skin, little by little. Being totally attentive to the sound of the cardiac monitor, listening to the pulsations and occasionally seeing the pressure level in the 'patient'.

You could even feel the sweat on the palms of your hands inside the latex gloves. It's good that you always had to put on 2 or 3 for these practices, because otherwise, you would have contaminated everything with your sweat.

You continued the process, trying to block out the thoughts that were flying through your mind.

'You need a good score.'

'You can't fail.'

'This is your last exam.'

'If you do this well, you can finally talk to him without worrying.'

Trying to ignore the pressure, you continued to take each step carefully.

The instructions for your colleagues you should take turns with were clear, anyone who distracts or talks to the person who is performing the practice with the 'patient' will immediately cancel the exam.

And that's why, because of the more impotence or frustration of your peers when they see your patient's heart level when they enter a state of shock because they had touched a vital organ, it was something that went unnoticed by you. Because you had fallen asleep.

What suddenly woke you up was the same alert from the monitors, who let out a loud noise.

Shit.

By the time you saw the monitor, the pressure was in the skies, not to mention that now the pulsations were going down drastically.

Without realizing it, as you had been sleeping in your place, you pricked the 'patient' stomach with the scalpel.

Fuck.

Your eyes widened in shock.

You were still a bit dizzy from sleep, and your reflexes were very slow.

And from behind, you could hear more murmurs, some of your classmates, while others let out a hiss or a swear word. And you could feel the pressure in your chest at what had just happened.

You tried to make a suture, but by that time it was too late.

You had damaged a vital organ, which you shouldn't even do.

In fear, you turned to the monitor, that now the rhythm was a single beep, indicating that the 'patient' had died.

You stayed there, feeling pressured by the looks of your classmates behind you, now they had not been able to take their exam.

And the gaze of Ratio, who was standing in front of you, which only made things worse.

He stood in the same position, his eyes staring at you. And you could only think of what he must have been thinking at that moment.

You tried to remain calm, but you knew that was impossible, your breathing was shaky, and you even felt your legs trembling.

You couldn't stand the stares, you could feel the gazes of your colleagues on your back. Judging and analyzing everything you had done.

"You failed this exam roundly." was the only thing he said, before guiding your peers to another side in the chirophan so they can take their exam, with a heart rate 'patient'.

You felt a pang of panic, your hands still trembling from the previous episode.

'You failed this exam roundly.' those words still echoed in your mind.

You knew it was the truth, there was no way you could deny it. You messed up big time.

'Everyone is going to hate me now. They're all going to think I'm stupid. I'm not fit to be a doctor. I'm not fit to be anything.'

These were the thoughts that raced through your mind.

You had been unveiling yourself so that you could study well for your other exams, that this was the only thing you didn't have in mind that could happen.

Your eyes looked to the floor, you were ashamed, you were embarrassed by your own performance. You had failed at something so simple.

Something you'd studied for hours. You even feel somewhat prepared to be able to do it.

Ratio stayed where he was, watching as your classmates took their turn with 'the patient'.

But he couldn't quite take his eyes off you, he could see you were shaking, and he was sure you would start crying at any moment. But you wouldn't do that in this place, not with the presence of everyone else.

He was heading for a moment where you were.

Without paying much attention to the others, he approached you, his footsteps almost silent, and stopped right in front of you.

He looked down at you, his gaze serious.

He knew exactly what your thoughts were at the moment, he knew that all the blame you would assume would be on yourself.

After all, it was all due to your negligence, you had fallen asleep, and that had been the reason why your practice turned out to be, to say the least, a disaster.

'You tried'

'You can do better another time'

'Don't worry'

You expected that, you really expected it.

"You need to retire from the chirophan, you've finished your exam." That's what you heard from him.

Your heart squeezed.

You really thought he was going to at least say a few words of encouragement, not just that.

And the tone in which he said it just made it worse. It was clear that he was disappointed.

You could feel the lump in your throat growing, you felt that you were going to burst into tears at any moment.

Ratio was about to speak, but instead, he held his tongue.

He knew the effect his words had had on you. He knew you weren't well. But he didn't say anything, he just stood there, seeing you.

His gaze was on you, you could feel that he was analyzing you, from your eyes to your hands.

You looked like a kicked puppy.

Your shoulders were hunched, your head was down, and your hands were shaking at your sides.

With what little dignity you had left, you looked up at Ratio.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it would burst out of your chest.

Your eyes were glassy, your eyelashes wet with tears.

You moved from your place, going to the disinfection area, while you were removing your gloves, mask and other protection stuff.

Your hands never stopped shaking while you did that.

You came out of the chirophan of practices, with fear running through your body.

Your hands on your face as you tried to hide the fact that you were about to start crying.

You were walking so fast that you bumped into a few people, some who told you to slow down, but you ignored them.

Finally, you reached the bathroom, where you locked yourself in one of the cubicles, and let the tears fall down your face.

You felt pathetic. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could do it, and even more so, for falling asleep.

How could you possibly have screwed up so big? You had studied for hours, for days, for weeks.

You worked as hard as you could to try to get a passing grade.

You had given your all, only for it to end in a complete failure.

"You're not good for this." you told yourself, your voice choked with tears.

…

You waited for your boyfriend to leave his office, grabbing the strip of your bag with both your hands.

Your gaze was on the floor, seeing your shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Your red eyes, you didn't want people to see much.

The students walked around you, chatting and laughing, unaware of the turmoil you were going through. You just wanted to go back to your apartment and cry in peace.

But at least you wanted some comfort on Ratio's side, even though you knew you didn't deserve it.

You heard the sound of a door behind you opening, and you glanced up to see Ratio walking out of his office.

He didn't notice you at first, but then he turned and his gaze fell on you.

You heard him sigh heavily, before he spoke "Let's go." It wasn't a question, it was a direct order.

You didn't dare say anything, just nodded silently and walked with him.

The whole way to the exit was silent, you walked behind him, seeing his back.

The silence was heavy, you didn't dare to say anything, and he didn't say anything either.

When you arrived at his apartment he let you pass first.

As you saw him leave his things in place and turn on some lights, your mind was distracted.

Until as he started heating water in the boiler, he spoke.

"It was the worst exam I could see in my life," his voice was full of disappointment.

Your heart pounded in your chest, those words only made you feel worse.

You wanted to say something, some kind of excuse, some reason to justify what you had done.

But all that came out of your mouth was a half-broken murmur "I'm sorry"

Ratio stared at you for a moment, his gaze was cold, you felt like crying again.

"You're sorry?" He asked, almost bitterly.

"You'll tell that to your patients' relatives when you kill them by mistake?"

Your eyes widened, and you could feel your lip starting to tremble.

That was a low blow.

"I-" you tried to speak, but your voice was so shaky and broken that you could barely form words.

But he interrupted you.

"You weren't focused. You were not prepared. You were sloppy and careless" He said, without even looking at you.

His words were like a stab in the heart.

And he wasn't done yet.

"You didn't put any effort into it,"

"Yes I did," you muttered, grabbing your fingers, anxiously in your body.

Ratio turned to you, his gaze was stern and almost irritated. He had never looked at you like that before.

"You fell asleep in the middle of the practice," he said, and the disappointment in his voice was palpable.

"How the hell would you call that putting in effort?"

Your mind was racing, trying to find an answer, something to say. But the words didn't come out, the lump in your throat was too big.

"I did" you tried to say again, weakly.

"No, you didn't" he said bluntly.

"If you had, you wouldn't have made such a stupid mistake"

You couldn't help it again, the salty tears wet your cheeks.

"Yes I did, Veritas," you said, raising your voice a little while you were looking at him.

"You didn't make the slightest effort in that practice, otherwise, you wouldn't have failed so miserably"

Those words stung again, you felt that he was attacking you.

"Yes I did!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face.

"I worked my ass out for that exam. I didn't take anything for granted! I really wanted to pass!"

"I want your comfort," you sobbed.

You wanted him to tell you that you had tried, that you did put everything out of you, that it was just unfortunate situations, that you could try again later.

You wanted that, not this.

Ratio's expression softened a little at your words, and for a moment he almost looked guilty.

He was quiet a few seconds, looking at your tear-soaked face.

"Do you think hard work is enough?" He asked. "Do you think that by just studying you will pass everything?"

"That if you want something, you'll get it just by wanting it?"

You just looked at him.

"That's not how it works," he said firmly.

"You have to be more than that".

You wanted his comfort, you longed for it a lot at times like this, not to be ranted out at how bad you did it.

"You don't deserve to be consoled if you did something out of pure negligence,"

Your heart sank at his words, like he was speaking to a child.

You felt like a scolded dog.

More tears fell on your face.

"I didn't mean to make that mistake," you said, wiping your face with your sleeve. "I really tried"

Ratio approached you, his steps slow and deliberate.

"Trying is not enough" he said bluntly.

He was in front of you now, towering over you, you didn't dare to look at him in the eyes.

"In this profession, just trying is not enough"

"You're not made to be a doctor if you think that," Your breathing hitched.

Those words hurt, you wanted to shout at him, tell him he's not right, that he's wrong.

But you knew he wasn't.

Every word he was saying was true.

All this effort, all these hours you've worked, and all these sleepless nights, to fail like that, because of a stupid simple mistake.

You really were not fit to be a doctor.

Your head was lowered, and the tears still ran down.

You tried to hold them back, but failed.

"I'm tired, Veritas,"

You just wanted him to stop.

You were tired, tired of studying, tired of not getting it right.

Ratio seemed to not soften at your words, his face still showed disappointment.

"You have to try harder, you have to put aside your tiredness," he said firmly. "If you don't, you will fail again"

"If you really want this, you have to do better"

You just wanted it all to stop.

"It's not fair," you began, your voice choked by the crying that didn't stop.

"The only thing you know how to do is tell me bad things about what I do," you sobbed.

"You're supposed to be my boyfriend, not someone who criticizes me,"

You felt frustrated, the words escaping your mouth without a care.

You wanted him to comfort you, to tell you that everything was going to be okay and that you would be a perfect doctor.

But he didn't say anything. He just looked at you, his expression unchanged.

"My job isn't to soothe your ego," he said firmly.

"My job, as a boyfriend, is to help you see the faults in yourself and strive to improve"

"And it seems that you don't like that very much," he added. His voice was almost cold.

You raised your head, looking at him with wet eyes.

"You're supposed to support me" you said weakly, almost a plea.

Ratio's face didn't change, his eyes fixed on you.

"I do support you," he said.

"But I won't lie to you or sugarcoat things for you," he added.

"I don't even have ego or something that you have to soften."

Those words were like a stab to the heart.

"I'm sick of you telling me that everything I do is complete shit,"

You were shaking with frustration, tears and snot streamed down your face. You felt so angry and so desperate that you didn't know what to say.

"I'm just trying to be honest with you and make you face reality," Ratio said.

"You need to be able to handle criticism if you want to be a doctor"

You just wanted him to stop, to shut up and say something like 'you're good' or 'don't cry it's okay'.

But he didn't, he just stood there, telling you the things you didn't want to hear.

You felt like you couldn't hold back anymore, all these days, weeks, months of not saying anything was starting to weigh on you.

"You never say anything good about me," you said in a shaky voice.

"You never have a nice word for what I do"

Ratio raised an eyebrow at your words, unamused by your outburst.

"You don't deserve my compliments"

That stung.

"Especially when you fail so miserably," he added.

Your body shuddered, those words made you feel so bad.

"All other boyfriends say nice things to their partners" you murmured.

"They give their support, even when they make a mistake"

Ratio almost laughed at your words.

"Oh, so you want me to be one of those 'other boyfriends' now?" he said with a hint of irony.

"You want me to pat you on the back and say you did a good job, even when you did a bad one?"

"Do you really think that's going to help?"

His tone was almost mocking, and it made you even more upset.

You wanted to shout at him, tell him that you just wanted him to say something nice and comfort you. But the words wouldn't come out.

"I…"

You tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a choked noise.

Ratio sighed heavily, the annoyance clear in his expression.

"I can't believe you're acting like a child because you can't handle a bit of criticism"

"Do you really think that's how a doctor should behave?"

"The answers I say are the same as those of my classmates and you still tell me they're wrong," you said.

"It's not fair. I'm fed up,"

Ratio crossed his arms, looking down at you.

"Life isn't fair," he said, as if explaining something obvious to a child.

"And a doctor's job is not to care about being fair"

He looked you up and down, almost with contempt in his eyes.

"I had expected more from you," he said.

"But I suppose I expected too much"

Those words hit you like a blow to the stomach.

You knew he was right, but it didn't make the situation any less painful.

Your hands were clenched into tight fists, your fingers digging into your palms.

"I hate you," you spat out between sobs, your voice full of anger and hurt.

Ratio seemed unperturbed by your words to begin with.

He looked at you with an expressionless face for a moment, before speaking.

"You don't mean that"

You were angry, hurt, and sad, all at the same time.

"I do," you said, your eyes wet with tears.

"I hate you, and I wish you didn't exist"

The words came out of your mouth, more like a desperate plea.

Ratio didn't react at first, he just stood there, looking at you as you sobbed.

"You don't mean it," he repeated, his voice low and firm.

"And you know it"

"Yes I do," you insisted, your voice almost a hiss.

"I hate that you always criticize me," you said, letting out a sob. "I hate that you never say anything nice,"

You saw a slight change in his face through your tearful sight.

Before it becomes the same again.

"If you hate me and you can't stand the criticism I give you," his voice sounded annoying, almost words spit on his face.

"Why don't you retire from medical school?"

"You don't even have the talent to be a doctor anyway,"

You felt your heart drop at those words.

Talent… That was the thing that you always lacked.

Ratio was always the perfect doctor, from the beginning of his studies, he was the top of the top.

You, on the other hand, struggled.

You weren't naturally smart like your classmates or he was. You needed to study more, work harder, make more effort.

And even with all that, you didn't come close to being like he wanted.

You had sacrificed so many things just to get here, your dreams, your hobbies, and even your old friends.

What nice words from your boyfriend.

Both you and he remained silent, with only the sound of the boiling woman whistling.

Your tears fell like waterfalls, but this time you weren't sobbing, you just stared at him.

There was a tense silence between the two of you.

You didn't know what I was thinking, you didn't want to know either.

But you might notice that his facial expression was no longer the firm one before.

He seemed even surprised by his words.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to speak.

But the words not came out.

Ratio was looking at your devastated face, the trail of tears already staining your clothes and cheeks.

Your red eyes stared at him, without blinking. Your expression seemed so different from a few seconds ago.

He had probably crossed the line.

Ratio stood there, looking at your tear-soaked face. He had never seen you so upset, so… desperate.

'Why don't you retire from medical school?'

His words will be repeated as a disc striped on your head.

The seconds passed slowly, the silence was only broken by the sound of boiling water.

Ratio moved slightly, taking a step forward, but stopped when his eyes met your gaze.

That look was almost one of… betrayal.

Something inside him stirred with frustration but guilt at the same time.

You forced yourself to take a breath, because you felt like you were going to drown.

You grabbed your bag with your trembling hands.

As you moved to grab your stuff, your eyesight never focused even on his shoes.

"Y/N…" Ratio tried to speak, his voice was hesitant.

He watched as you packed your things, your movements were jerky and with haste, with the only goal of leaving quickly.

You didn't look at him, avoiding his eyes completely.

"Where are you going?" His voice sounded more pleading, and with a hint of concern.

You felt your body tense, the sound of his voice made you shiver. You had forgotten how long it had been since you heard your boyfriend speak to you without being sharp or harsh.

"I'm leaving," you replied, your voice flat and emotionless.

"Do you care?"

"Of course I care" his voice was firmer than before, and maybe a little annoyed?

Ratio walked closer to you, his steps slow.

"I-, we need to talk"

That phrase came out of his mouth, almost in a pleading tone.

You continued to pack your things, not daring to look at him.

"We can talk tomorrow," you said. "I remembered I have something to do at home,"

Ratio's lips formed a straight line.

He just kept quiet.

You too, until you approached the door.

You felt the weight of his eyes on your back, almost burning.

You had your hand on the doorknob.

It was hard. More than you should.

"Tomorrow, then," he said, quietly.

The way Ratio spoke sounded almost vulnerable.

Your hand trembled on the doorknob.

You wanted to look back, to say something, to see his face.

But you didn't, because you know that seeing him would be even more painful.

"Sure," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

The day after your… discussion with Ratio.

You were walking through the corridors of the medical school.

You felt a slight anxiety, but also a sense of resignation for what was going to happen.

You hadn't heard from Ratio since yesterday, and you weren't sure if it was on purpose or not.

As you turned a corner, you saw a familiar figure standing in your path.

You froze for a moment when you saw him.

He was dressed as usual and that perfect hairstyle.

But at least he didn't look so perfect, like he hadn't slept the night before.

His eyes were fixed on you, almost as if he were inspecting you.

Ratio his face neutral as always, but with a hint of… remorse?

"We need to talk," he repeated the phrase from yesterday, his voice low and firm.

Right.

"Oh, right," you let go, feeling your body tighten.

But before he could add anything else, you talked.

"Maybe later?, right now I have a class,"

Ratio had expected you to have a defiant or annoyed air about you.

But your voice, and expression, were calm, almost soft.

"Fine," he said after a few seconds. "Then after class,"

"After class," you confirmed.

Ratio continued to watch you.

The sound of the bell ringing through the hall interrupted the brief moment between the two of you.

not looking directly into his eyes. Then, before he could say anything again, you continued on your way to your classroom.

Ratio watched your figure walk away, his brows slightly furrowed.

Every ticking sound seemed almost as if it was mocking you.

The anticipation making your stomach spin.

In fact, you hadn't gone to a 'class'.

You went to talk to the rector of the medical school.

You felt a lump in your throat, and your hands were slightly sweaty.

You had an idea of what you wanted to talk about.

But you weren't so sure.

Your footsteps echoed through the hallway, your heart beating fast in your chest.

Until you arrived at the office door. You knocked gently and the voice of the rector called you in.

The moment of the meeting was brief, you explained the situation and what you decided. The man listened intently to your words, a slight sense of sympathy in his eyes.

When you finished, he nodded slowly, his fingers tapping on his desk. "Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yes," you responded, your voice firm but inside you were the nerves.

You didn't know if you had taken the right decision, but it was done.

"I don't want to question your decision, but-"

"I'm sure" you interrupted him abruptly.

It sounded a little… harsh, but you didn't want to hear any more arguments.

The rector gave a small resigned nod.

"Okay," he said slowly.

"I will start the procedures,"

You walked to where you knew Ratio would be teaching.

You didn't know why you approached, if you were supposed to leave without telling him anything.

Ratio was in the middle of his class when you appeared at the door.

He didn't see you at first, since his back was facing the door.

But when class ended a few minutes later, and everyone left, he turned his face towards the door after leaving his notes on his desk.

And there you were.

Your figure standing in the doorway.

Ratio's facial expression didn't change.

"Is your class over?," his voice was low, the room was empty, the last students had already left.

Which made the only sound a low ticking of the clock hanging on the wall.

Your feet didn't move toward him.

You were still standing by the door, your gaze fixed on the ground.

"Yes," your voice came out somewhat strangled.

For a few seconds Ratio was silent, as if contemplating you.

He started to walk towards you, his footsteps echoing in the room.

The air between the two of you felt almost… thick.

Ratio eventually stood in front of you, his height forcing you to lift your head to look at him.

"Can we talk outside of here?" You asked, something undesirable about your actions.

Ratio was quiet for a moment, staring down at you.

He looked almost… unreadable.

Finally he agreed with a low "sure".

You left the room and both you started walking together.

Neither of you spoke.

Silence.

Just the sound of the two of you walking through the corridors of the school.

Ratio continued to keep pace with you, but he was looking straight ahead, not looking directly at you.

The sound of your footsteps echoed in the empty halls.

As the two of you walked, you felt a feeling of nervousness rise in your stomach.

You inhaled before you asked again. "Can I take your hand?"

As you broke the silence, Ratio slightly turned his head towards you.

He gave a light nod of affirmation.

You reached for his hand, and he allowed you to hold it.

His palm was warm, and the touch of his fingers was gentle, almost firm.

You felt less nervous, just for a while.

You walked with him until you got to a quiet cafeteria, where you saw people studying at tables.

You sat in front of him, making your hand release his.

As you sat down in the cafeteria, Ratio took a seat in front of you.

Both of you stayed silent for a few more seconds.

Neither of you had said anything since you came to this place.

You could feel a tension in the air, the silence slowly becoming unbearable.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

"I assume you didn't go to class," his statement sounded like a mere fact.

"Uhm, we can talk about that at another time," you said, playing with your hands a little bit.

You missed the touch of his hand against yours, and you were going to miss that, that's for sure.

"I don't hate you, Veritas," you said, remembering your words yesterday, that you ranted when he was being unpleasant and rude on you.

Ratio's brow furrowed slightly.

He didn't say anything for a moment, he seemed to be thinking about something.

His gaze was focused on you, his eyes studying your expression almost intently, as if he was examining you.

"I know," he said eventually, his voice low and quiet.

Then he spoke again.

"I have to apologize," his words sounded almost reluctant, as if he didn't like saying them.

You could see the muscles of his jaw clenched, he seemed to be struggling with his thoughts and words.

It was clear that he wasn't used to apologizing.

He continued, the words coming out a little hesitant.

"I shouldn't have said those things,"

He paused again, his gaze averting yours for a moment.

Then he spoke again, and his eyes fixed on yours again.

"I was too harsh,"

Ratio's voice was quiet, almost like a whisper.

He was still struggling with those words, you were so used to him insulting you so easily but apparently it was different when he apologized.

Significantly that produced peace of mind in you.

You couldn't help but smile a little, feeling the knot in your throat.

"That's okay," you said.

Ratio's eyebrow shot up, clearly not expecting such a response.

You knew him enough that he probably would have been prepared to receive a scolding or an argument in response.

He was still looking at you, you could see the slight surprise in his eyes.

"That's… it?"

Ratio seemed almost dumbfounded.

"Yes, that's what I needed to hear," you said.

Anyway, you had already started with the procedures with the rector.

Maybe you just wanted to hear his words of apology, but as a good memory.

Ratio's expression changed, it was almost a mixture of relief and confusion. It was almost as if he had expected more resistance from you.

He remained quiet for a few more seconds, continuing to watch you intently.

That you were so forgiving after how he had acted made him feel… strange.

But maybe he shouldn't think too much.

Ratio exhaled slowly, his facial expression returning to its usual stoic and composed state.

"You're too soft, dear," he murmured, his voice low and quiet.

The next day it was the same.

He felt calm, because at least you weren't upset and at least you clarified that you didn't hate him.

It had spent almost 40 minutes of class and you were not there yet, it was strange to him.

Until when you looked for you on campus, where you were supposed to have other classes, you hadn't attended them. Rather, you weren't even on campus.

And, no matter how much he send you a message, it came out that he couldn't contact your number.

Almost recently, he had to come and talk to the rector, about you not coming and you could fail all your other courses. Until he took it upon himself to tell him that you had withdrew from campus three months ago.

Ratio's eyes widened, his facial expression transforming into a look of disbelief. "What?," his voice was low, but with a hint of alarm.

His mind was processing this new information, and it was hard for him to believe.

"They… withdrew three months ago?" His words came out slowly, his heart was starting to race.

Yes, you had taken the decision to withdraw from the medical school.

As much as it looked like a tantrum, you didn't care, maybe he was right.

So you followed his advice.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify or feed into ai

[watermelonlovershigh]

"I frew up" /blurb/

AN: i seen a tiktok where a 26 yr old man wanted to go tell his mom after he threw up and got inspired to do this in a fan fiction. except make the son a daughter and the mom, harry. hope you enjoy and make sure to leave your feedback!!!

This story contains: throw up, fatherly comfort, fluff, mentions of pregnancy

{ dadrry - husbandrry - soft!harry - au!harry - Josie age 20 }

word count- 1,369

Josie wakes up to a tummy ache and after getting sick, decides to wake her dad up because she seeks his comfort in her time of illness.

Josie, your twenty-year-old daughter, is back home from college for a few days, and you and Harry are thoroughly enjoying this time with her. As your first child, she will always be your baby. Although her college commitments mean she is not home as frequently, your house is far from quiet. You and Harry have three other children who are still in school: Lily, who is thirteen, Jax, who is nine, and Sarah, your youngest at six years old.

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

Although Josie is an adult capable of taking care of herself, it doesn't imply that she doesn't want to seek comfort from her father when she unexpectedly falls ill during the night. Since childhood, her father has been her go-to person for comfort, whether she had a scraped knee or a stomachache. While Josie has a deep affection for her mother, Y/n often becomes anxious in matters concerning her children's health. In contrast, Harry has consistently maintained a calm demeanor.

After puking in the hall bathroom, Josie quietly leaves so her younger siblings don't awake and heads toward her parents' room. She refrains from knocking, certain that they are both asleep. If she had heard any movement from inside, she would have knocked, because she wishes to avoid accidently walking in on her parents having sex. That thought alone makes her feel nauseous once again.

As Josie carefully enters the darkened bedroom, she makes her way towards Harry's side of the bed. The faint illumination from the streetlights outside prevent the room from being entirely dark. When she arrives at the bed, she notices her father sleeping on his side, facing away from the middle, with her mother cuddled against his back. Josie thinks it's lovely that her parents continue to share such affection while they sleep.

She's hesitant to disturb her father, yet her need for his comfort is undeniable at this moment. Her stomach still feels uncomfortable, and she's unsure whether it's due to something she ate or a stomach bug. Josie gently taps his shoulder, which is protruding from the covers, in an effort to wake him. Years of experience as a parent have made Harry quick to awaken at the slightest touch from one of his children, or his wife for that matter.

With a sudden gasp, Harry awakens to see his daughter Josie positioned next to the bed. Now that she's older, it's been a considerable amount of time since she's awakened either of her parents in such a way. As a result, her unexpected appearance causes him to worry that something significant might be wrong. "Hm, Josie sweetheart, what's the matter?" he asks gently, mindful of not waking his wife who lies behind him.

Matching his quiet tone, Josie answers in a childlike voice, "I frew up."

Harry sits upright on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes to regain clarity of vision, and rises to guide his daughter out of their bedroom. Once they're in the hallway, he slowly murmurs, "Awe, poor baby. Is your stomach still botherin' you? Do you feel like you might be sick again?"

All she can do is nod as Harry leads her back into the bathroom, ensuring the door closes behind them. Once inside, Josie is struck by a new wave of nausea. Her face becomes clammy with a cold sweat, and her mouth fills with saliva. As she kneels in front of the toilet, Harry's quick to grab a washcloth, running it under cold water. Just as she begins dry heaving, her father kneels beside her, placing the cold cloth on the back of her neck.

"Shh, everything's alright. Daddy's gonna take care of you." Harry doesn't think about the fact that his daughter, now twenty, woke him from his sleep to tell him she'd threw up. His thoughts are solely on the fact that, regardless of her age, she will always be his little girl. She will always seek comfort in him. Even if she were to wake him when she's forty, he'd be there for her, just as he was when she was a small child.

After experiencing her second bout of vomiting tonight, Josie's stomach has calmed enough for her to sit up and take a moment to breathe. Harry reaches over to flush the toilet and stays close to her, until she tells him otherwise. Turning her head to her right, Josie catches sight of her father, who is looking at her with a mixture of genuine concern and love.

"Thank you, dad. I didn't want to wake you up but I needed your comfort. Sorry, I'm probably too old to have woke you because I got sick."

Shaking his head in disagreeance, Harry replies, "Never too old, darlin'. Even when you're old and grey, I'll be right beside you whenever you fall ill, as long as m' still here. I do have a question though."

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any idea why you're unwell tonight? Is it somethin' you ate, or is there a chance that, you know, you could be pregnant?" Harry's cautious not to jump to conclusions, but he acknowledges that his daughter is at an age where pregnancy is a possibility if she so desires. Given her college status, he suspects that if she took after him and her mother during their time at university, she may not be entirely innocent.

Gasping in shock, Josie swiftly clarifies, "No Dad, I am not pregnant. It's likely just a stomach bug or something of that nature." She's not mad at her father for asking such a question. Even though she prefers not to discuss her experiences with her parents, she acknowledges that she's no longer a virgin. But, she has always been smart enough to ensure that her partner uses protection. Though she envisions having children in the future, she's not ready for that commitment at the age of twenty while pursuing her studies in college.

"Alright, alright. Not accusin' you of being pregnant. But if you were, just know it would be okay and your mum and I would be very happy for you."

"Thank you, but again, I'm not pregnant." his daughter repeats. "Can you help me back to bed? I think I feel better now."

"Of course." Harry helps her to her feet from the hard bathroom floor, placing the damp cloth in the dirty basket, and escorts her back to the room she's staying in. Josie settles back into the bed and Harry hurries off to retrieve some tablets that might soothe her upset stomach.

He comes back shortly, assisting her in sitting up to take the medication with a glass of water. After ensuring she's comfortable, he leans down to kiss her forehead and mutters softly, "If you need anythin', whether from me or your mother, please wake us up. No matter how old you become, you will always be our baby."

Nodding, Josie whispers, "Love you, dad."

"Love you too, Josie."

Leaving his daughters room, Harry returns down the hallway to the bedroom he shares with his wife. He's convinced that he's managed to leave without her waking, but as he reenters the bed, Y/n is quick to ask, "Where'd you go? Missed you."

He maneuvers closer to Y/n's body and explains, "Josie woke me up to tell me she'd thrown up. I accompanied her to the bathroom and she got sick again. I think she's fine now. Gave her some medicine. It's likely just a stomach bug. Hope the rest of our kids don't catch it."

Y/n softly expresses, "Awwwe, her waking you up to inform you she puked reminds me of when she was five. I long for the days when she was just a little girl. She's grown up so much now."

As Harry leans in to embrace his wife more closely, he remarks, "I know, was surprised she still sought out her daddy's comfort when she felt sick. It makes me feel quite emotional just thinkin' 'bout it. However, we are fortunate to have Sarah. She's still at an age where she relies on us for many aspects of her life. I hope she remains a child for as long as possible. I'll miss feelin' needed."

Y/n smiles in response to her husband's sincere words and allows the comfortable silence to help lull her back to sleep, along with her husbands embrace. Then not before long, sleep also begins to take over Harry once more.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @gem1712

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[headcanonenthusiast]

COD characters x virgin reader headcanons

This was made with gender-neutral readers in mind. (For most of them, anyway. Valeria's is fem leaning, but everyone else is neutral.)

This will include König, Simon Riley, Valeria Garza, Rodolfo Parra, Alejandro Vargas, Alex Keller and Kyle Garrick.

Yall I accidentally uploaded this when it was halfway done TWICE and in my panic to delete it the first time, I didn't copy everything 😭😭 I'm crying rn/j

Anyways it's a very snowy day, I'm all nice and bundled up, so it's time to write >:)

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

NSFW under the cut.

Enjoy!

Alejandro Vargas

-Romantic? Romantic. Let me tell you that every part of your first time with him is so passionate and romantic, it's nearly like a fairytale.

-He won't just dive right in, nononono, like I said, he's a romantic lover. Therefore, to "set the mood", he's either taking you out to a fancy restaurant or cooking dinner for you.

-Then, he's going to give you plenty of foreplay to ensure that you're ready.

-Very passionate sex. Tries his best to go slower for your sake, but something about him being the one taking your virginity raises his ego by 500%.

-"Thats it, mi chula/o (My girl/boy). Just relax, let me make you feel good."

-Will still be sure to leave hickeys on you, though, even if it is your first time.

-In his mind, his hickeys are proof that you're his.

-"There we go, that's better. You look so gorgeous/handsome covered with hickeys."

-Chuckles softly in your ear if you complain about the hickeys. He'll kiss you apologetically and refrain from leaving them. (this time, anyway.)

-Oh, and he refuses to edge you during your first time. He's actually determined to make you cum at least twice. If he hasn't, he's failed you.

-Aftercare includes you being bedbound at least until noon the next day. Alejandro does NOT want you straining yourself, even if you aren't sore. He'll get whatever you want, whether it's food, drink or the remote. The only time you're getting out of bed is to shower, which he'll insist on joining you for.

Valeria Garza

-Really? She's your first choice? Praying for you rn my friend/j

-Okay in all seriousness, as rough as she is during sex, she'll do her best to be gentle. Doesn't want your intro to sex to be a bad/painful one.

-Just because she's being gentler than normal doesn't mean she still isn't gonna boss you around, though. Will ALWAYS be on top, no matter what.

-"Stay still, stay still. You're basically asking me to make it hurt. Is that what you want, hm? To make it fucking hurt?"

-If you listen to her (God forbid if you don't), she'll nod in approval and press a kiss to your clit.

-"There we go, corazón (sweetheart). It's not that hard to listen to me, now is it?"

-If you don't listen to her however, she'll go a bit harder with her strap/fingers. Not as hard as she normally would, but you'll probably be pretty overstimulated.

-"Don't start with that bullshit. I told you to listen to me. If only you had behaved yourself like I asked. Dios, eres imposible (God, you're impossible.), not obeying me yet getting all whiney when I punish you for it."

-Surprisingly doesn't edge you, even if you haven't been listening. In fact, she encourages you to cum on her fingers/strap.

-"Shit, you're gonna cum? You wanna cum? You're lucky I'm feeling generous, especially after how you've been acting. Go ahead, muñeca (doll). Cum all over my strap/fingers."

-Aftercare includes her pressing gentle kisses to your temple and brushing your hair out of your face. You're welcome to do whatever you want after that, but not without Valeria lingering close by, just in case her pretty girl needs anything.

Rodolfo Parra

-Gentle and loving sex? Gentle and loving sex.

-He'll praise you SO MUCH. You could do the smallest thing and he'll just shower you in compliments.

-"Do you have any idea how beautiful/handsome you are, cariño? (Honey/sweetheart) This body is fucking irresistible. What an amazing woman/man/person you are, amor (love.)"

-Moves deathly slow. He's so careful not to hurt you that the actual process of stretching your pussy/ass out takes forever.

-Whispers praises and compliments the entire time, though.

-His hands gently rub your hips in an attempt to soothe you, constantly asking if you're okay.

-"You alright, amor? (Love). Yeah? I'm not being too rough, am I? Good, good. Let me know if it hurts."

-Oh, and his lips never leave your body. Your neck and face especially.

-Aftercare includes the most heavenly massages imaginable. He'll massage you anywhere you want, your shoulders, legs, anywhere you want to be massaged, he'll do it. Similarly to Alejandro, you're also bedbound. Rudy would rather die before letting you do anything after sex, especially your first time.

-And like I said earlier, Rudy has a voice kink. So, hearing you talk afterwards makes him happy. Talk to him about anything and he'll listen so intently while he massages you.

Kyle Garrick

-Like Rudy, constant praise.

-Seems so fixated on the fact that this is your first time, so he's very concentrated on going slow. (In the beginning, anyway. May or may not get a bit drunk off the feeling of your pussy/ass around his cock.)

-The slowest thrusts imaginable. Starts out very shallow, but he'll carefully go deeper into your pussy/ass. Ensures you're ready before, though.

-He also suddenly gains the best hearing in the world. If you make even the slightest sound of discomfort, he'll stop and check in with you.

-"Christ, you alright, love? Too fast?"

-And even if he's going slower, sometimes he'll get so lost in how good you feel that a bit of communication is in order to ground him.

-"Right, sorry, baby. Here-why don't I go at a few different paces and you see which one's the best, yeah?"

-Never makes you feel like you're taking away his enjoyment if you speak up about something you dislike/like. It's only enjoyable to him if you like it, too.

-There is NO such thing as too much talking with him. Please show how much you like/dislike something, and he'll keep it in mind for the rest of his life.

-"Oh, yeah? You like it like that? I'll have to do it more often, then."

-Aftercare also probably includes some chatter. Maybe a quick order of the most delicious food possible while binge watching your favorite show/movie. Oh, and yall are definitely cuddling all night long, too.

König

-So, König is big. And he knows he's big. That's why he's honestly a little anxious to fuck you with his dick during your first time.

-Bro is probably pacing around the room like a depressed zoo tiger for a bit before he sits you down and has a talk with you.

-"I'm sorry, darling, but I don't think you could take me. Especially not as your first time. Are you sure you want to do this?"

-If you ensure that you'll be okay, the foreplay will be insane. He's going to slowly stretch you out over his fingers, gently rubbing your clit/tip with his thumb while making you repeat a chosen safeword.

-"Say it again, liebling (darling). Can you be louder for me? Good, that's a good girl/boy. I want you to say that the moment it starts hurting, okay?"

-He's also gonna eat you out/suck you off as well. Like I said, lots of foreplay.

-And when he does finally start fucking you? He's barely gonna put four inches in. So fixated on not hurting you that he barely realizes that you're moaning softly in approval under him.

-When he does hear those moans, though, he's gonna give you a small smile and ask if you're okay.

-"Aw, listen to those moans. Does that feel good? Mhm, good. Just let me know if it hurts, liebe." (Love)

-Won't even cum inside you the first time if you finish first. He doesn't want to overstimulate you at all. Besides, you're always welcome to watch him jerk off (or even help him out 🤭)

-Aftercare includes you using this behemoth of a man as a bed. You're gonna lay on top of him and act as his personal weighted blanket for the night. Then, the next day is all about you. He's gonna do WHATEVER you want the next day. No food, clothing nor activity is off limits for his perfect liebling ❤

Alex Keller

-If he's your first choice, then congratulations. You have amazing taste.

-Might be biased here bc I find him so unbelievably fine, but Alex would be great as your first time.

-He's just so gentle and attentive, starting by carefully stroking your cock/rubbing your clit to calm you down.

-"Its okay, dolly. I know, I know it doesn't feel good right now. How about I just stay still for a bit, and you tell me when you're ready again, okay?"

-And when you do give permission for him to move again, he's kissing your cheek while praising you.

-"Mm, you're so damn tight. Could spend the whole day in this little pussy/ass and never get tired."

-Ensures that his thrusts are shallow and slow, only going to just behind the tip of his cock and seeing how you react.

-So unbelievably sweet. Makes you feel like the most special person in the world.

-Oh, and he holds your hand. Both physically and metaphorically. He entwines your hands together, talking you through each and every step.

-"Can you spread your legs a little farther, please? Good, that's a good girl/boy."

-Tries his best to make sure you cum first, and when you do he'll carefully fill you up, slowly pulling out to watch it drip out of your hole.

-"Ain't that a pretty sight. You okay, darling? Yeah? Did that feel good?"

-Aftercare will consist of a warm shower/bath together before returning to bed to cuddle all night long. Oh, and Alex is totally kissing the back of your neck as yall spoon, whispering praises and sweet words in your ear.

Simon Riley

-Like König, I feel like he'd be a little hesitant to take you. Not necessarily as anxious as him, but he knows that once he's inside you, he probably won't be great at going slow.

-"Look, love, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that I know myself. I'm gonna have a hard time being gentle."

-He can't resist you for long, though. Eventually he does decide to give it a try, but not after the addition of a safeword and physical signals to show if you're uncomfortable.

-Although Simon's unsure at first, he's actually able to keep a clear head and not get drunk off how good you feel.

-Does his best to listen for your safeword or any physical signal that you wanna tap out.

-Because of this, he's more quiet than normal, but he can't help but grunt softly in your ear with the occasional praise for doing so well.

-"You're takin' me so well, love. Good girl/boy, I'm proud of you."

-Because his mind isn't as foggy as he thought it'd be, he's only putting in a few inches. He's sure you'll be able to take all of him eventually, just not right now.

-"Just the tip, baby. No, not puttin' anymore in. It'll be too much for you."

-Gently rubs your clit/tip to soothe you, even if it doesn't hurt much.

-When you cum, so does he. Ghost proceeds to stay there for a little while, doing a quick check in before pulling out and watching his cum drip down your body.

-"Shit, you see what you do to me, baby?"

-Aftercare is similar to what my headcanons on him said. And although he's tired, he makes sure you go to sleep first this time, just so he can admire his gorgeous girl/handsome boy/etc for a little while longer.

YALL ITS FINALLY DONE 😭 I accidentally uploaded this unfinished TWICE and this is my quick attempt at a rewrite. I tried my best 🙏

And I'm sure you can all tell that I had fun w/ the Alex headcanons. I'm sorry but he's just so..😍

Let me know who I should do next!

[fourmoony]

hi, I just wanted to let you know that reading your writing brings me so much comfort and joy. Today, I found out that the person I’ve liked for the longest time has a girlfriend, and it’s been hard to say the least. It also didn’t help that I read an unrequited love blurb featuring remus as soon as I got home 😭 I was just wondering if you’d be willing to write something where the reader assumes that remus doesn’t like her because he seems aloof, but is actually just nervous because he likes her so much. I am so appreciative of you and your beautiful work, as always 🤍

this made me tear up. your words are so kind, and are the push i needed this week to keep writing <3 never in a million years did i think anyone would think this about my writing. thank you.

i'm sorry to hear about your crush; unrequited love is a tricky and heavy feeling. i have no doubt you'll find your person, though. as someone who's had my fair share of heartache, i promise, it won't hurt forever. my friends think i'm crazy because my advice is always to just let it hurt. but one day you'll wake up and you'll have run out of hurt. and you won't even remember what you saw in them, anymore. sending love.

P.S. i suck at writing shy remus so this is more like silent, unreadable remus. idk i'm tired. hope this is okay!

---

remus lupin x f!reader - masterlist 1.2k words

cw - implied self esteem issues, smoking, drinking

Remus' thumping steps carry up the staircase only seconds after you call on him. You're facing the mirror when he arrives in the doorway, hair clasped to the side in one hand, and the other reaching aimlessly for the zip half way down the back of your dress. His eyes find yours over your shoulder in the reflection, a fond smile passing over his features when he steps through the threshold into your room.

"You look lovely." He comments, voice warm and smooth in the way that it always is.

Warm Remus, smooth Remus, so fond and kind, feels like home and everything familiar. His fingers are warm as he tugs gently at the zip, one hand placed on your shoulder for leverage. His touch is gentle, like he's afraid he might break you, and it lingers for only a moment when he's done. You swallow around the lump of want in your throat, the want for it to have lasted longer, the want for him to touch you and have it mean something. It doesn't do any good to want. Because you can't have, and you've had to deal with becoming okay with that fact.

"Thanks, Rem."

He nods, lips curled in on themselves like he wants to say something, a look in his eyes you've never been able to read. He says nothing, and he retreats with the promise to wait on you with the others in the living room. Remus does that a lot - refrains from the things he wants to say, stops himself short. You wish he wouldn't.

You're always wishing, wishing, wishing.

He keeps true to his word. Remus is waiting in the living room with Sirius, James, and a rather flustered looking Frank when you descend the staircase. It's only now you realise how lovely Remus looks in his suit. Partly because of how Sirius is wearing his - like he had a fight with it and lost. Remus stands when you appear, as if on instinct, and takes a step forwards. You smile, eyes catching on Frank who's looking at the clock like it's stealing time from before his very eyes. You suppose, in a way, it is.

"You okay?" You feel the need to ask, hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Frank looks alarmed by your question, a grimace on his face, "She's going to be there, isn't she? She's not going to, like, do a runner? Have you spoke to her today?"

James huffs a laugh, pats Frank on the shoulder rather heavily. The whiskey in his crystal tumbler splashes over the side and onto the rug. "Last I heard, Mary and Marlene had her pinned down in the make up chair, she tried, but they wouldn't let her."

Sirius barks a laugh. Frank scowls. He knows you're kidding. Alice Fortescue has been absolutely smitten for Frank Longbottom since she was thirteen. There's absolutely nothing that could stop her from walking down that aisle, today. Frank knows that as well as you do.

"Not helping." James decides, passes Frank a cigarette.

He mumbles something about not wanting to smoke inside and makes for the door. Remus gives James and Remus a pointed look, "Better make sure he doesn't do a runner, yeah?"

They're quick out the door like they actually believe Frank would ever do something like that. The only place he'd ever run to is Alice. And she'd have his balls for seeing her in her wedding dress before the ceremony. Remus gives you a familiar smile, a knowing smile, a smile he saves for you and you only. It feels like he's in on something you aren't when he smiles like that. Heat crawls up your neck, flowers wrap their way around you rib cage.

"You scrub up well, you know." Is all you manage to say, rather breathless.

Remus rolls his eyes, "I try."

A minute of amused silence, Remus passes you the glass of wine in his hand. The glass is warm from being in his clutch, but you drink from it anyway.

"I thought after the catering disaster this wedding wasn't going to happen." Remus admits, looking out of the living room window at where Frank paces the length of the front path, working his way through his second cigarette. Alice will have your head for allowing such a thing.

You hum a disagreement, eyes roaming Remus' face, it's so soft, so beautifully shaped. You've no idea why he hates his scars so much. They only outline his best qualities. The one over the bridge of his perfectly sloped nose, the one under his beautiful amber eyes, the one along his sharp cheekbones, and your favourite one: the one across his cupids bow, defining his soft, pink lips. It's a shame, really, that Remus Lupin thinks so little of himself. You'd give him the world should he only ask.

"I think nothing can stop a love like that," You murmur, soft and quiet, voice thick with something, "Not even a shoddy caterer."

Remus' eyes leave the front garden, meet with yours in a way that always makes heat explode in your chest. He's too much to look at, sometimes. It physically hurts.

"You always have such a positive outlook on life."

You laugh, shoulders shrugging, "Suppose it's habit."

"From?"

"Keeping you miserable lot from giving up all together?" You offer, smiling over the rim of your wine glass.

Remus laughs, genuine and unashamed. "Tell you what, at our wedding, I promise to be the one keeping everything together, how about that?"

He seems to flinch after that, like he's physically pained by the words coming out of his mouth. You flinch, too. The flowers around your rib cage wilt and pull tighter all in one go, a frown pulling at your lips.

"I wasn't aware we were getting married."

Remus smiles like he's in pain, "Yeah, well, step one would actually be asking you on a date, but I'm a right twat who's mucked all that up."

There's something self deprecating about him. You don't like it. Remus Lupin deserves the world. You'll give him the world. You didn't think he wanted that from you, though. But you smile, gentle and sweet in a way you hope he'll like. It feels like something shifts. Maybe the stars begin to write a story about you both. Maybe the sun stops it's rotation just for a second to watch you both.

The wedding car pulls up outside and Remus, seemingly eager to back away from the situation he's created, slams his own drink down on the table and makes for the door.

"Remus," You call after him, he turns, "I'd marry you."

You offer him a lopsided smile. His eyes search your face for any sign of a joke. He finds none. You hope he understands what you mean.

"How about a date first?" He asks.

You release a breath, a laugh, a smile. It feels like you're floating.

"Sure, yeah. That first."

The front door swings open and Sirius barges his way past Remus, panicked and disheveled, "I've lost the fucking rings!"

Remus sighs, hand in his pocket, hands Sirius the red velvet box, "Here."

You're laughing all the way down the path, shoulder brushing Remus', the start of something new.

[bbunisre]

17: ALWAYS BEEN YOU (0.8k)

Besides being affectionate and caring, Tsumiki is your best friend and there is no better way to prove it than right now. After bidding the Uber driver a quiet gratitude, you escape the car to find yourself in front of Tsumiki’s house rather than your own.

The driver the second you close the door, leaving you to attend to your business.

The door opens before you can even knock on it.

“Tsumiki..."

She holds you in her arms for so long in the doorway

"You okay, kid?"

You look back to see Gojo standing there, arms crossed and in his pajamas, looking at you with a placid concern.

"I'm alright. Thanks for letting me in." you tell the two.

"Of course. You're family." Gojo answers.

"I figured you wouldn't wanna stay alone tonight." Tsumiki adds.

"You know me so well."

She smiles before ushering you in, "Let's get you to bed. It's been too long."

As Tsumiki brings you to bed, you can't help but be grateful for her. You're so lucky to have someone who truly cares for you and a place to go to when something goes wrong—whether it be a crazy ex or an argument at your own home.

Tsumiki gives you a pair of pyjamas and you use the spare toothbrush in her bathroom before getting into her queen-sized bed like it's your own.

"I'll be back in thirty minutes. I just got some cleaning to do."

You nod, "Thanks again."

"Don't worry. We can talk about Choso when I'm back... I'll get Gojo's wine for you."

You laugh as she leaves you alone in the bedroom.

Minutes pass.

There's a particular emptiness within the house you don't like, a sense of comfort you're too used to and its presence has been made quiet.

Where is it when you need it?

The door opens quietly and in comes a slowly moving figure, rummaging through Tsumiki's desk. He notices when you sit up.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you, I was looking for..." he pauses, watching the way you stare at him so avidly, an unfamiliarity swimming in your eyes, "Are you okay? I heard what happened."

Megumi sits at the edge of Tsumiki's bed as you remain sitting up, staring at him.

The only thing illuminating the room is the light that seeps in through the ajar door from the hallway, casting a halo-like glow on Megumi's face.

You forget completely what happened with Choso the moment Megumi tampered with your thoughts.

There's a pull in your chest, "I'm alright. I'm glad i got out of there because he was going to talk to me and I just couldn't be there. He was making me uncomfortable."

"I don't understand why he couldn't take 'no' as an answer. You already told him you didn't want to talk to him."

You nod, "Exactly. He doesn't care. He just wants me so he has something to control again."

Megumi sighs.

"How's it been with you?" you ask, changing the subject.

"I've been up all night trying to finish an assignment."

Megumi's like a blank canvas compared to Choso's tainted one—it feels wrong talking to Megumi about Choso. It was like you were bringing the contamination of Choso into Megumi and that didn't feel right.

You want to start again.

"Mhm. Which subject?"

You deserve to start again.

"History."

There's no better person to start again with than Megumi.

"It wasn't an accident, was it, Megumi?" you ask.

"Sorry?" he asks.

You softly smile, "That night. At Panda's party when you confessed to me."

Silence.

Megumi stares at you blankly and for a second, you doubt yourself but there's no way he doesn't like you. He confessed drunkenly, he's there for you every second and he looks at you with those eyes.

Even with a blank stare from Megumi, it's like your whole body is on fire.

"It was an accident," he admits, looking away. suddenly, Tsumiki's girl group posters are nicer to look at, "I've had a crush on you for so long, Y/N."

It's like you've been set on fire.

"Really?"

Yyes...do you feel the same way?" he looks up at you.

"How can i say no?"

A smile.

Megumi smiles.

As much as you want to reach out and hug him, you refrain, knowing Tsumiki could be just around the corner.

"I've wanted this for so long."

You open your mouth to say something but you're immediately interrupted by the door opening.

"Megumi! Why are you bothering Y/N?!"

You laugh out loud, surprised she's suddenly there, "Yeah, why are you bothering me?"

He does his best to mask his smile and inevitably fails.

"Out!" Tsumiki scolds.

Megumi makes his way to the door, giving you one last look before disappearing. Tsumiki locks the door behind her and switches on the flash on her phone.

"Got the wine."

For the first time in a long time, you don't feel like drinking. Instead, you feel soft.

Megumi's made you soft.

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[annwrites]

⸻ peonies & passion

· pairing: queen maeve x fem!reader · type: one-shot · summary: maeve's usual assistant is out sick for the day & you're assigned in her place. unbeknownst to you, maeve always looks forward to the few & far between times when you replace the woman...so she can see you again. · tags: soft, sapphic romance, fluff, pining, cuddling, kissing · word count: 2,569 · a/n: this is the first time i've really explored my bisexuality, so this piece means a lot to me. ♡

She knows she makes you nervous. But, in truth, while you're busy mentally beating yourself black and blue for stumbling over your words and two left feet because of her presence, it only serves to endear you to her all the more.

She likes how easily she can make you blush with only a playful wink, or by nudging you with her shoulder. She also likes the smell of your perfume, which reminds her of peonies, and that, even when you're gone, the scent of you still lingers where her skin has brushed against your own.

She likes when she catches you shyly staring at her, only to look away embarrassed when her eyes meet yours.

She likes your quiet voice and lovely laugh.

She likes.

She likes.

She likes...you.

Maggie always dreads this part of the day: the end of it. Well, only when you're once again in each other's company, that is.

Because, once it ends, unless her usual assistant calls out again come tomorrow—and she's definitely secretly hoping that she will—it will be an undetermined amount of time before she sets eyes, or gently brushing fingertips upon you again.

She wonders, often, if your sheepishness is due to her supe persona, or her.

She wonders if you like girls.

But she can't just come out and ask that, because she doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. And God-forbid you take it for sexual harassment. She's not a scumbag like the Deep. She could never hurt or take advantage of you. She never wants you to think otherwise.

Because she...adores you.

Her, one of the strongest women in the world, brought metaphorically to her knees by someone so soft and fragile. But that's exactly why she loves likes you. For all your charming qualities. Physical or otherwise.

"Would you want to stay for a bit?" Maeve asks quietly while removing her diadem.

You blink at her nervously with wide eyes and she fights back a grin at the adorable sight.

"Oh. Is there something else that you need?"

She shakes her head, throwing the jewelry piece onto the coffee table. "Just wanted some company. Unless you have somewhere else you need to be?"

You clutch your tablet to your chest and softly shake your head, and she watches as your soft curls cascade over your shoulders.

She wonders if they feel as smooth as they look before her eyes flit back to your own.

"I don't," you reply sweetly, with a kind smile.

She nods toward her bedroom. "I'm going to get changed, then maybe we can order takeout and watch something?"

You smile and nod again.

She grins. "Do you want to borrow something? Just so you're more comfortable?"

You take a step closer. "S-sure."

She nods, then turns back toward the bedroom and you begin to follow along behind her, until she stops and glances to you over her shoulder.

Your eyes flit between hers only briefly before your face turns a shade of crimson. "Right. Sorry. I'll let you change first, then..."

She would have no qualms with you following along after and watching her. Or, much more, letting her undress and dress you in her clothes—or simply undress, so she can admire the piece of artwork she's sure you'd hiding beneath your sweater and dress slacks—but she refrains from offering something she's sure will lead to you never coming back here.

To you never coming back to her.

Once Maeve has finished changing into a loose sweater and joggers, she returns to you with a t-shirt and sweatpants resting atop her arms.

She lets her hands brush against yours when she gives them to you.

"You can change in my room, if you want."

You nod silently before glancing to her from under your long lashes and stepping past her with heated cheeks.

She knows it's cliché and maybe a little on-the-nose, but because the story can be construed either way, she streams Fried Green Tomatoes while the two of you eat Chinese takeout.

She glances to you from the corner of her eye, watching as you take a bite of your crab rangoon and she bites back a smile at you being so near her. While wearing her clothes. And in her apartment, at that.

You lean forward and grasp a bit of lo mein between your chopsticks and your hair falls forward—nearly into your food—so she reaches over and tucks it gently behind your ear while allowing her knuckles to graze the warm skin of your cheek.

You glance to her with a mouthful of noodles and she grins broadly at the sight.

Your heart skips a beat.

Once the movie is through, Maeve is reluctant to move, even if she needs to desperately pee.

But she refuses to, because you’ve fallen asleep against her shoulder. Your cheek rests upon the crown of it while your body is pressed firmly into her side as slow, steady breaths escape through your slightly-parted lips. 

She smiles softly to herself at the feel of your warmth before slowly leaning her head to the side to rest atop your own.

She knows it’s dangerous to let herself fantasize about a life she could never have—it only makes the yearning for you ten times worse, as if that’s even possible at this point—but she lets herself anyway. For only a moment.

So she imagines a life where this is what she has to look forward to coming home to every night: you. 

Whether it’s with you in sweats eating junk food and takeout on the couch while watching bad B-movies on TV, or the pair of you lying in bed while she caresses every inch of your body while whispering sweet nothings to you to ensure you never forget how treasured you are by her, she would be content. Because it’s you that she would be sharing every moment with.

And then you stir in your sleep and the fantasy slips away.

You slowly lift your head and blink sleepily at her for a moment.

And all she wants in the entire world is to crush her lips to yours.

But she can’t lose you.

So she merely smiles instead. 

“Evening, sleepy head.”

You sit up suddenly then and your eyes grow wide while you shrink into yourself out of embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” you say quietly.

She shakes her head while standing and gathering up empty Chinese takeout containers to toss in the trash on her way to the bathroom. “Don’t be. You’re exhausted. And I didn’t mind.”

When she returns to you after relieving herself, it’s to you gathering your things. 

“Are…are you leaving?”

You glance to Maeve while shrugging on your cross-body bag. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired. I probably should’ve been in bed an hour ago.”

You blush while shifting nervously on your feet. “I had a nice time tonight. Thanks for dinner. I appreciated it.”

She takes a small step forward, desperate for a reason to keep you a bit longer. As in…all night.

“You could just stay here. If you’d like?”

You merely blink at her, your mind going blank in an instant.

“It’s just that you’re exhausted, like I said, and… I don’t want to have to worry about you on the roads. And I don’t mind if you, y’know, sleep over. I’m no Homelander, so I can’t exactly fly you home, or I would.”

She cringes internally. If that didn’t sound like a pathetic excuse at a come-on, she doesn’t know what would. 

“I don’t want to be a burden, or impose,” you insist.

She shakes her head, padding toward you. “You could never be that to me.”

She runs a hand down your arm, taking your bag from you. “The bedroom is this way.”

“Oh. I could just…” You glance back to the couch, then back to her. “If you have some extra sheets?”

She shrugs slightly. “My bed is more than big enough for two. Besides, what kind of sleepover would it be if I banished you to the other room?”

She throws an arm around your shoulder then, tugging you in the right direction alongside her.

You said goodnight to each other over twenty minutes ago, yet Maeve’s heart is still pattering away in her chest like a goddamn machine gun at the fact that you’re lying in her bed, only a few inches away. 

You’re turned on your side away from her, but she can tell from the depth and rate of your breaths that you’re still awake as well. 

She wants to say something. 

Should she say something? 

If she does…what? 

Maybe you’re on the verge of sleep and her talking will only serve to jolt you back awake. And she doesn’t want you dragging tomorrow, simply for your own sake.

But she has you here. In her bed. She has been desperate for months to see you again and now she has you all to herself.

She won’t waste the opportunity.

“So,” she says quietly. “What did you think they were?”

You slowly open your heavy lids and your brows furrow. “Hm?”

“Idgie and Ruth,” she explains. 

You turn over to face her, and you stare at her while she stares up at the ceiling.

“What about them?”

She folds her hands atop her stomach. “Have you ever wondered if they were more than just friends? I mean, it always came off that way to me in the movie. I don’t know about the book, since I’ve never read it.”

She turns her head to look at you. “Have you?”

You shake your head. 

She remains silent, waiting for your thoughts. Rather, for you to take the hint at what she’s trying to imply.

“Some, I think. Even when I was little, I always thought Idgie was a lesbian. She seemed more butch to me, at least. Like, Ruth was the only person in the whole movie she had eyes for.”

She slides her hand infinitesimally closer to you. “What about Ruth? Do you think she loved Idgie? I mean, I know she did, but I mean in that way.”

Your eyes flit between Maeve’s. “What do you think?”

She slides her hand the least bit closer, ignoring the way it shakes from nerves and uncertainty. “I think she was all Idgie could think about. And that Idgie adored her and…and she would’ve done anything for her just to make her happy and keep her safe. But Ruth… I think, maybe, she was afraid to admit that other part of herself existed. Fully, at least.”

You pulse begins to quicken.

Is Maeve… Is she…

You take a moment, then reply. “I think that Ruth saw Idgie as being stronger than her. And thus out of her league, you might say. And Ruth just…tried to do what was expected of her. Because that’s the way she was raised: to be a perfect, demure young lady who stays quiet and within the lines. She didn’t want to hold Idgie back. Maybe because she feared she could never get to the level of fearlessness Idgie had been at since she was a child. She wanted her to be the free spirit she was always meant to be.”

Maeve finally rests her palm atop the back of your hand. “Maybe Idgie felt like she could only be that when she was with Ruth, though.”

Maeve feels like she might as well turn into a giant fucking cheesewheel at the way she’s talking to you, but you make her that: into a sappy romantic. She just feels like you’re the type who probably has an appreciation for that sort of thing. And she likes when you’re happy, especially from her causing.

“Maeve—”

“My real name is Maggie. Which I think you know already, but you can call me that instead. If you want.”

You swallow thickly, starting again. “Maggie, are you… Do you—”

She finally crosses the threshold she’s been toeing cautiously for months on-end. 

“Like you? What finally gave it away?” She asks with a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

You blanch. “Oh. I…”

You trail off, having no idea how to approach this situation.

Wait.

Is that why she wanted you in her bed? To stay the night? 

You’d thought so differently of her, but instead…she’s just like every other power-hungry celebrity, isn’t she?

Your eyes sting at the sudden realization.

“I’m not… I didn’t come here to…” You grasp for the best way to word this that won’t lose you your job.

Meanwhile, Maggie’s heart shatters.

“Oh. I thought maybe…”

She drops her hand away. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I misread things.”

You both stew in awkward silence for a moment. 

“You don’t think that I’m…”She looks at you again. “I’m not trying to sleep with you.”

You stare at her doubtfully. “You’re not?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “No, sweetheart. I’m just…”

She sighs. “Alright, here goes: I’m crazy about you. I know the times we see each other are few and far between, but in the interim you’re all I think about. And I’ve been too scared to tell you any of this out of the fear of making you feel uncomfortable or harassed, or out of the risk of never seeing you again.”

Your heart jumps into your throat and your stomach quickly fills with butterflies.

Maggie watches appreciatively as your cheeks turn pink, which she can see even in the dim lighting the moon provides only in thin slivers through her bedroom curtains.

“I’ve only ever been with boys before,” you whisper.

She scoots the least bit closer to you. “Maybe I could change that.”

A pause. “Can I kiss you?”

A smile spreads suddenly across your face without warning and her heart warms at the sight.

You nod silently.

Maggie moves even closer until her body is pressed along the length of your own.

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek, and then she presses her lips to your own.

And you taste just as sweet as you look and sound and act and smell and… Nothing has ever been as perfect as this moment.

She gently spreads your plush lips with her own before tenderly flicking her tongue against yours and she nearly moans at the sensation.

God, you’re fucking perfect. Everything she’s been waiting for. Her girl.

After a moment, she pulls away and you half-bury your face in a pillow while staring up at her. “Have you and… Well, am I…”

She knows what you’re getting at.

“It’s only you, honey.”

She slowly wraps her arms around you. 

“Only you,” she whispers while pressing a loving kiss to the crown of your head.

You snuggle against her neck, and your eyes slowly flutter closed while a hot tear slips from the corner of your eye. “I’ve waited for so long to do that. I was always scared of what it would be like if I ever tried. I don’t know why I was now.”

She cradles the back of your head in her palm. “You and me both.”

“Why me?” You ask in a whisper. “I mean, you’re you, and I’m just—”

She leans back and grips your chin firmly between her fingertips. 

“Everything I’ve been waiting for,” she replies, cutting you short.

She leans in for another kiss.

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @highsummon

[bubblespalace]

Ok I hope this reaction request isn't too overdramatic (well it's understandable if it is,since it similar on what happened to me and I tend to be over dramatic A LOT)

Can you make how the Sakamaki (and maybe also Mukami if you feel like doing it) react if Yui feeling more down than usual because one her classmate (that she like a little) insults her? Since whenever THEY insult her,she's already use to it,but the moment HE insult her ONCE she acted more down than usual

(Hope you understand what I'm trying to say and I don't make a fool out of myself,take care!)

Bubble: OFC! And about that, DW. I personally hate when people think anything is overdramatic unless it truly is over the top. Because everyone has their own feelings and some are extra sensitive!! <33 Under the cut of Sakamaki and Mukami!

"Why are you so insulted by such a minor problem? You're okay if we insult you."

"Hmph, I do not like this classmate. Please refrain from interacting with him from now on. He isn't someone you should worry about pleasing."

"Oi! That ain't something you should be insulted by! If I were to have said it to you, then yeah! But why the hell do you want to please him?!"

"You know, you make me so upset. I could have said the exact same thing to you and it would have had no effect, but this man gets to be the cause of that beautiful sad face? The nerve..."

"Bitch-chan, why so sad? I've said similar things before. Do you not like me as much as you've implied?"

"Jeez, you're not like this when I insult you... Granted I don't always mean it- I mean-! Well... Just try to cheer up a bit. The triplets won't be too happy with you if they see you down because of another guy."

"You're so harmed by another man, livestock. How dare you let him hurt you like this. You should only ever have to please your master."

"Eh, M-Neko-chan looks sad. Why are you so down? Because of him? Why do you care when you have all four of us with you anyway?"

"Jeez Sow! Just stay away from him if he doesn't like you back! You got us anyway! Why the fuck do you need him when you got us?"

"Eve... Is hurt... And not the kind... We like. Can I help you Eve? ... I'll do whatever you'd like me to."

[slaymitchabernathy]

Cold & Calculated

Coriolanus POV

There’s a strange silence that sits between them during the ride home. Coriolanus almost feels uncomfortable sitting next to his wife. She doesn’t say anything, not a single word but that’s nothing new, Soarynn’s always been quiet.

But something is different.

He glances down at his wife who’s looking out the car window at the passing Capitol streets, she looks nice tonight, she looks pretty. His heart had skipped a beat when she showed up at the office earlier this evening. Due to some scheduling issues, Coriolanus had Soarynn come to meet him at the office so they wouldn’t be late for the company dinner.

Festus whisked her away for a brief tour but it was rather adorable how quickly she returned to him. Coriolanus assumes she finds some semblance of safety in him, or at least his presence. Coriolanus is a man of authority and respect, no one would dare mess with him or his wife for that matter.

“Quite a fruitful night,” he finally says, breaking the tension.

Soarynn simply hums without sparing him a glance, “Quite.”

His eyes travel across her collarbones and slender shoulders. They didn’t have sex last night, not after Sejanus mentally drained him for the entire day but tonight is the perfect night. The perfect way to end a long day at work.

“Perhaps it’ll have a fruitful ending,” he suggests, always trying to give Soarynn a bit of a heads-up before partaking in such sexual encounters. Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, “If that is what you wish.”

Now he’s upset. He’s upset because it almost sounds as if he’s forcing her, which is something he’d never do. If Soarynn decided that tomorrow she never wanted to have sex with him again then that would be the end of it but he sincerely hopes it’ll never come to that. Not when it’s the only time he can truly hold her, touch her, feel her.

But she’s acting like this all is one-sided. And he refuses to be on the losing side. The desperate side.

He clears his throat, “It is.”

He’s the man of the house, he doesn’t need to be doubting himself or his authority.

Neither of them says another word as the car pulls up to their apartment building. Soarynn takes his hand as she exits the car but immediately drops it once they're in the elevator. Coriolanus refrains from crying out like a wounded animal at the loss of contact because it's not the end of the world. But it feels like it.

Maybe she's mad at him, although Coriolanus doesn't think that he's ever seen Soarynn be mad a day in her life. She's gotten upset of course, but over little things like her favorite bakery being closed or a boutique not having a dress in her size. But Soarynn is not someone who's quick to anger. He, on the other hand, can get quite angry when pushed too far.

When the elevator doors open and Soarynn goes to step out, his hand grabs her wrist, pulling her back inside. Soarynn looks up at him with wide eyes, with a hint of fear behind them. Coriolanus doesn't like that. He wants her to respect him, yes, to be attentive and well mannered but he never wants her to fear him.

Is this what it's come to? Is this what his cold and calculated attitude towards her has gotten him?

"Are you alright?" He asks, feeling somewhat stupid for asking such a vague and general question, "I mean, have I done something to upset you? Or has someone hurt you?" Coriolanus can feel his entire body tensing at the idea of someone laying a hand on Soarynn, forcing themselves onto her, scaring her.

He'd become the Capitol's first murderer, that's for certain.

Soarynn bites her lip for a moment before answering him, "No, no one's hurt me, and you haven't done anything to upset me. I'm just tired." Coriolanus sees right through that lie because as much as she tries to deny it, Soarynn is a terrible liar. At least to him, she is. Her father probably agrees with him that it's quite easy to see through any of Soarynn's small, insignificant lies. She rarely ever lies but she's done it enough for him to notice the slight tells that give her away.

How she always bites her lip, fiddles with the rings on her fingers, sways side to side, and avoids eye contact if possible. She's lied about small things in the past, whether or not she picked up his clothes from the tailor, if she remembered to attend some event, things like that.

She's lying right now.

His grip on her wrist slightly tightens as he leans down until he's at eye level with his wife, "Do you remember what I asked of you the day we got married?" Their wedding had been a wonderful blur but he remembers clear as day what he'd asked her to do once they made it down the aisle and were out of earshot from all of their guests.

"Don't ever lie to me, things will be much easier between us as long as we're honest with one another."

Soarynn swallows and nods her head, "You asked me to never lie to you." He tilts his head and looks her up and down, his pretty little wife who's done such a good job at pleasing him so far. "Trust is...important," he tells her slowly.

"Trust is everything to me," Soarynn whispers, "but I don't think you trust me Coriolanus."

Soarynn POV

Not a sound can be heard in the penthouse.

Coriolanus is at work and Soarynn is at home, overthinking.

There are a million other things she could be doing right now. Cleaning her makeup brushes, clearing out her wardrobe, running errands, and painting. But her conversation with Coriolanus from a few days ago keeps repeating in her mind. It had been a rather tense conversation between them, a conversation that ended in Coriolanus suggesting that they both just go to bed since the drinks from dinner had clearly gotten to them.

Funny how he was able to lie to himself about that when moments before he was reminding her to be truthful with him. And she was! She is! Soarynn doesn't really see any point in lying to her husband, not when he's been nothing but good to her. Should he be controlling or abusive then she could see a reason to lie but he's not. Coriolanus is a good husband. But he's not a very good companion.

Soarynn has seen her friends with their own husbands, seen how they share little inside jokes and knowing glances. She and Coriolanus don't share any of those. They only share polite table talk with a side of expected sex.

So when the phone rings, Soarynn nearly jumps off the sofa. Maybe it's the people calling from the gallery, she thinks to herself as she pushes herself from the sofa, making her way down the hall to where the phone is sitting on a small table.

"Snow residence, to whom am I speaking with?"

"Soarynn?" It's Coriolanus.

"Coriolanus, is everything alright?"

For a moment she worries something might have happened to his parents but he's quick to soothe her thoughts, "Perfectly fine. Well, not entirely fine. I need you to go into my study and open the top drawer in my desk, it has several files inside of it. I need you to bring me the red file, labeled, 'Quarterly Sales Meeting.' I forgot to grab it this morning and just remembered it."

Soarynn finds herself nodding along to her husband's instructions, especially since she knows how important the quarterly meetings are to him and his colleagues. He's been working nonstop the past month and the dinner they recently attended was a way of thanking everyone for their hard work.

"I'll bring it to you right away," she assures him and she hears him let out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, darling, I'll see you soon." After a swift goodbye, Soarynn hangs up the phone and ventures into her husband's study. She's never been in here alone, and she's never seen the entire study since she usually lingers in its doorway.

She easily finds the file he was describing in the top drawer of his desk and quickly glances over his desktop for a moment when her eyes land on a framed photograph. She blinks once, twice before coming to the realization that it's her in the photograph.

She looks much younger than she is now, about eighteen when she first started seeing Coriolanus. It's a candid shot of her smiling down at Petunia in her arms, standing in the backyard of her childhood home. She remembers that day, how Coriolanus had come over and she proudly showed him her new kitten. Coriolanus had brought his camera with him but she never saw him taking that photo of her.

But he did, and here it is. Does he look at it often? How long has he had this photo framed? Does he have other photos of her?

Coriolanus is a masculine man through and through and before she moved in, his penthouse lacked a feminine touch. Or a sentimental touch in general.

But Soarynn can't linger long, not with Coriolanus waiting on her so she shuts the drawer and leaves the study. Thankfully their car is waiting outside for her and she's greeted by their driver, "Where to Mrs. Snow?" Soarynn gives him a polite smile, "My husband's office please."

The drive is short and yet Soarynn still finds time to worry about her current relationship with Coriolanus. It feels strained and if they can't trust one another, then what's the point? The point was to marry for convenience, to act as if this marriage was a business agreement, and yet Soarynn finds herself wishing it was more than that so maybe that's her issue.

Either way, whether Coriolanus loves her or not, it won't hinder her from being a good wife.

Coriolanus POV

Coriolanus drums his fingers against his wooden desk as he waits for Soarynn to arrive. He'd left an important file at home and instead of having his secretary fetch it, he had asked Soarynn to bring it to him.

He was feeling rather impatient although he didn't know if he was impatiently awaiting the arrival of the file or his wife.

He likes to think he’s waiting for the file but he knows that’s a lie. He’s eager to see Soarynn, to be in her gentle, feminine presence for a few moments before she goes back home to make sure dinner is being properly prepared for them.

Then he’ll go home, and hang up his coat in the hall closet before she greets him with a kiss on the lips and her dainty fingers wrap around the handle of his briefcase. He’ll let her take it and set it down so that he can freshen up in their bathroom before joining her at the dining table.

Without children or guests, their dinners can be very quiet, neither of them speaking of much except surface-level topics. She’ll ask him how his day at work went and he’ll ask her how her friends are doing and if she did any shopping.

They might have sex. But it all depends on how he’s feeling.

They had sex the other night, after the company dinner. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great. Despite her lack of experience, Soarynn can be quite the pleasant and sensual creature in bed. The sounds she makes, the way her body moves, and the way her eyes roll back are what Coriolanus craves on a somewhat daily basis.

And the conversations they have afterward always seem to let him catch a better glimpse of who Soarynn truly is. When she’s too tired and overstimulated, she lets her walls down and he does the same.

Rare moments like that should be appreciated more than they are, but he's never been too good at opening up. During the months of the two of them dating, Coriolanus rarely went beneath the surface of his persona. He knew what Soarynn needed, a good husband who took care of her and her needs. How could he be a good husband if he was constantly vulnerable in front of her?

So after their fifth date, he vowed to himself that he'd never let her see that hidden side of him if he could help it. The side that longed to hold her for longer periods of time, and bathe with her while playing with her hair. It's better this way, at least that's what he tells himself. Letting her catch glimpses of the real him after sex is much better than being seen as weak.

It's best to be cold and calculated.

Soarynn POV

꧁ 6 Months Ago ꧂

It's a strange feeling to move into a room that is not your own. Soarynn feels like she's invading her husband's privacy as she unpacks her bags. Her husband, a new term that she is still not familiar with. She got married today, she's no longer a Nightingale.

Soarynn Snow.

Her hands are shaking while she puts her clothes into the dresser drawers and she does her best to still them, to calm her nerves. But she can't, not when she knows what will take place in a few minutes. She and Coriolanus have shared a few heated kisses, but they've never gone farther than that to honor tradition.

But Soarynn is terribly nervous, even dressed in expensive white lingerie. Her friends said it would make her feel more confident and more secure in herself, and yet she feels the exact opposite. What if he's not impressed with her? Coriolanus certainly isn't a virgin and Soarynn worries that he might be put off by her inexperience.

It's too late to turn back now.

She sighs and brushes her hair behind her ears, she'd rather just go to bed considering what a long day it's been for the both of them. Their wedding was lovely but tiring as she was expected to talk to all their guests. Soarynn doesn't mind the social chatter for the most part, so long as she can relax in her bedroom afterward. But this is her bedroom now, a room that she will share with a man.

Soarynn's curiosity gets the best of her and she pulls open the top drawer of the dresser and finds several pairs of socks that belong to her now husband, all the same color and style. Coriolanus from what she's seen, is a man who values routine and order, rarely ever straying from what he knows and trusts.

She just hopes that he'll come to know and trust her as time passes.

Soarynn hears the sound of heavy footsteps making their way towards their bedroom and she closes her trunk of belongings. She can put those away later. She glances at the large bed and her fingers graze over the white sheets. They might be stained sooner rather than later. Soarynn doesn't know why she's so nervous about the bleeding part of losing her virginity. She knows that it's supposedly a sign of one's virginity being taken but what if it doesn't happen to her? Then what would Coriolanus think?

Soarynn sits on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling off the edge and she grabs a handful of the lacy dress she's wearing over her lingerie. The dress itself is also lingerie, with intricate lace patterns sewn along the silk fabric. Hopefully, she meets his expectations.

The doors open revealing Coriolanus and her heart skips a beat. He looks so handsome, so regal and important even in the late, late hours of the night. It's past midnight but that's never stopped a man from taking what's his.

He offers her a small smile before closing the doors behind him and Soarynn manages to return his smile with one of her own. "You look pretty," he tells her as he walks towards her. Soarynn lets go of her dress and swallows, "Thank you."

She expects him to pounce on her but instead, he turns to the dresser where a small variety of alcohol sits on top of it along with several small glasses. She watches Coriolanus grab a bottle of something before twisting the cap off and pouring himself two glasses. It's a practiced ease she witnesses from him as if he's done this a thousand times, pouring himself a drink before bed to wind down.

"Quite the day," he muses to which Soarynn nods, "Yes, today was quite eventful." Coriolanus takes a sip of his drink and lets out a content sigh, "The alcohol selection was perfect, much better than the one at Festus and Persephone's wedding." Soarynn chuckles and shakes her head at her husband's words, "That's because you think you know what's best when it comes to alcohol."

Coriolanus shoots her a mischievous smile and nods, "I do know what's best when it comes to alcohol. If I weren't a businessman, I'd be a bartender." It's a funny thing to picture, Coriolanus working such a lower-class job but Soarynn strangely enough thinks that he'd be quite happy with it, money aside.

"You'd certainly be a crowd favorite," Soarynn agrees. Coriolanus grabs the other glass and offers it to her and Soarynn is unable to hide her surprised expression. She prefers wine over whatever he's drinking but he insists on her taking the glass, "To take the edge off," he explains, "you look like you'll need it."

Well, she can't argue with that.

Soarynn gives him a grateful smile before taking the glass and sipping whatever the glass contains. Whatever it is is disgusting and Soarynn pulls a disturbed look which causes Coriolanus to laugh, "Not a fan of whiskey hmm?" Soarynn shakes her head and offers it back to him, "I'm not really a fan of alcohol period, let alone whiskey."

Coriolanus hums and takes the glass back from her, throwing it back in one sip. It amazes Soarynn how much he can eat and drink, but she's learned that men are never truly satisfied. Speaking of satisfied....they still have to have sex, which means kissing, touching, and getting naked. Oh, why does she have to be so innocent?

Soarynn watches her husband drink from the other glass he poured, noticing the way his throat bobs when he swallows and how chiseled his jawline really is. Coriolanus Snow is devilishly handsome in Soarynn's opinion, it truly amazes her that she's his wife now, that she bears his last name for the world to see.

When he's finally finished he sets the glass down and finally takes a good look at her. To say she's been preparing for this moment would be an understatement. Over the past week, Soarynn has been waxed, primped, and primed for her wedding night. This morning she took a long bath and made sure her body was smooth and flawless.

Coriolanus tears his gaze away and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He took off his shoes and suit jacket the moment they got home, seemingly sick of wearing the clothes after a good twelve hours. Soarynn nervously fidgets as he bears his chest to her, showing off his toned physique. Soarynn's only seen him shirtless a handful of times before their marriage, but she has a feeling that she'll be seeing a lot of this in the near future.

He notices her staring and smirks, "Like what you see?" Soarynn blushes but she nods, remembering what he said to her earlier today, telling her to always be honest with him.

"Yes," she whispers, pressing her legs together. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared, mostly of the pain but the act of sex itself is terrifying to Soarynn who's still so young, especially compared to Coriolanus who's six years older than she is.

Coriolanus finally takes a step towards her and his hand comes out to cup her face, he does it so gently, as if he truly cares for her and Soarynn hopes he does, that her cares about her and how she feels. She's heard many tales about women marrying men who only care for their own pleasure. And Coriolanus has been so attentive so far, but that all could change right now, he could reveal his true colors.

But Coriolanus Snow seems like a good man.

Soarynn looks up at him, into his piercing blue eyes and she's overwhelmed with emotions to the point where she feels a single tear escaping her grasp and rolling down her cheek. The expression on his face changes from one of confidence to one of concern. Soarynn wipes the tear away and sniffles, "I'm sorry. I...I don't mean to be emotional, not on a night like this."

His thumb gently brushes over her cheek and Soarynn finds herself leaning into his touch, "I won't fault you for being nervous," Coriolanus gently tells her, "especially since it's your first time. Is it me that you're scared of?" Soarynn's eyes widen at his question because she really can't see herself ever being scared of Coriolanus. Not when she's seen glimmers of how kind he can be, how he laughs when playing with Petunia, or carries his mother's shopping bags for her.

No, Soarynn could never be scared of Coriolanus.

"No," she quickly assures him, "I'm just scared of the pain," she whispers the last part. His face contorts to a rather unsure expression and Soarynn highly doubts that Coriolanus has ever been tasked with such a needy partner like her before, one that requires constant reassurance. He sighs as he looks down at her with a fond look in his eyes, "I can't promise that it won't hurt, I'd be surprised if it didn't hurt. But it won't last long, and we'll go slow," he tells her and Soarynn slightly relaxes after hearing those words.

The smirk returns to his face as he adds, "Besides, I think you'll find sex to be rather enjoyable after getting over the first time." Soarynn doesn't even want to think about the second time, not when they've yet to get the first time over with but she nods all the same, "Alright, I trust you."

That seems to be the green light for Coriolanus who's quick to lean down and finally capture her lips in a passionate, heated kiss to which Soarynn eagerly responds. Coriolanus is an excellent kisser and Soarynn's kissed him enough to feel confident in herself. Their first kiss had been rather adorable but she was a flustered mess afterward and Coriolanus teased her endlessly about it until she finally gathered up the courage to be the one to initiate the kisses they shared.

Still, Coriolanus is a man who thrives with control and is a dominant man so he's been the one to initiate their kisses for the most part. Soarynn doesn't mind it in the slightest, not when she's always been so pliant and submissive all things considered.

Her hands come to rest on his biceps and she finally feels how toned and strong Coriolanus is. He's mentioned his fitness regimen before but Soarynn's never been able to bear witness to his strength before. He feels as if he could rip her in half if he wanted to.

His hands travel down to her waist, squeezing it while he deepens the kiss and his tongue explores her mouth. Soarynn whimpers when he tugs on her bottom lip with his teeth and then lets out a squeal when he picks her up by her waist and tosses her further back onto the bed. Coriolanus is quick to follow her, sitting on his knees while he kisses her again, and this time Soarynn pops up on her knees as well.

He's still taller than her, but the height difference is less significant than if they were to both be standing. Coriolanus grabs the back of her head with one hand, his fingers tussling with her blonde hair, the hair that was so carefully styled for their wedding. It'll be a rat's nest by the end of the night.

Soarynn gathers up a bit of courage and rests her hands on his bare chest, feeling how warm his skin feels against her palms. Coriolanus groans into the kiss, clearly enjoying the physical contact. Over the past year, Soarynn has learned how much Coriolanus values physical touch. Just because it's frowned upon for high society couples to sleep with one another before their wedding doesn't mean Coriolanus has kept his hands to himself.

He's constantly attached to her one way or another, holding her hand, resting his hand on her lower back, and having her hold his arm, he's even held pinkies once which was rather adorable.

Coriolanus wedges his knee in between Soarynn's legs and she lets out a breathy moan when his knee brushes against her barely covered cunt. Coriolanus smirks into the kiss and takes a firm hold of her hair before pushing her down onto the bed. Soarynn is breathless as she stares up at the ceiling, utterly and entirely vexed at how quickly things are moving.

But Coriolanus is on top of her again, this time on his hands and knees as he presses kisses to her neck and chest. Soarynn lets out soft, breathy moans at each little kiss he presses to her soft skin. One of his hands pushes down the straps of her white, silky dress, exposing the bralette she's chosen to wear tonight. It's made entirely of intricate lace and has a white rose in the middle of her breasts.

Coriolanus fixes his stare on the rose for a moment before swallowing, and Soarynn feels quite proud of herself for choosing something her husband seems to be so fond of. He presses a kiss to her breast and Soarynn grows restless under him which he quickly fixes by pressing his knee up against her cunt once again, drawing out a desperate moan from Soarynn's lips.

Coriolanus sucks hard against her soft skin and Soarynn gasps at the foreign feeling. She's seen her friends littered with lovebites after their own wedding nights but she never knew if Coriolanus was the type of man to claim what's his. It appears that he is.

Her chest is littered in love bites in a matter of minutes and Coriolanus sits up on his knees to admire his work. Soarynn stares up at him, growing more and more desperate for his touch. Coriolanus reaches down and grabs her dress before tearing it right down the middle. Soarynn gasps as the cold air hits her bare skin, revealing the matching set of lingerie she wore under the dress.

Coriolanus throws whatever remains of her dress in some dark corner of the room before finally seeing Soarynn's body for the first time. She feels nervous about what he might think, that he might wish she were fuller in other places and more spare somewhere else but he seems quite taken with her. "You're a vision," he tells her, and Soarynn blushes, "Thank you."

He nods and withdraws his knee, grinning when Soarynn lets out a displeased sound from the loss of contact, "Eager are we?" He teases to which Soarynn rolls her eyes, "You're very sure of yourself." Coriolanus shrugs all while wearing that boyish grin on his face before he grabs a hold of both of her knees, "I'm very sure of myself because I'm an excellent lover in the bedroom," he corrects her as he pushes her legs apart, revealing her to him. Well, almost all of her.

Soarynn's breath hitches in her throat when he brings a finger to the panties she's elected to wear tonight and swipes over her covered cunt, the feeling sending shocks throughout her body. Coriolanus leans down and kisses her knee, then her thigh, slowly working his way down, all while maintaining eye contact with Soarynn who's beginning to wonder what she's gotten herself into.

But Coriolanus doesn't give her much time to think about it before he finally reaches the waistline of her lace panties. "These simply have to go, darling," he says almost in a disappointed way. Soarynn immediately hikes up her hips and he lets out a deep, throaty chuckle that goes straight to her core.

Coriolanus peels her panties off, unhooking them from her legs before throwing them somewhere in the room. Soarynn feels her legs shaking because there's nothing keeping her from his view anymore. Coriolanus blows air onto her cunt and Soarynn twitches from sensitivity, "You just might have the most perfect cunt I've ever seen," he groans, his fingers ghosting her folds.

Soarynn moans at his words and ruts her hips up, "Please," she says, not really knowing what she's asking him for. "You're soaked," Coriolanus says, his breath so close to her cunt, "can't wait for my cock to be inside of you hmm?" It's amazing to hear such vulgar words come from her husband's mouth, a man who's normally known for speaking so eloquently.

Soarynn ruts her hips again but this time Coriolanus wraps his arm around her waist, pressing her against the mattress, "Be patient darling," he chides, "a good girl waits to be given what she deserves." Those words strike a nerve within Soarynn because she so desperately wants to be good for him, to be a good wife and partner.

When the tongue of Coriolanus Snow finally licks a strip over her cunt, Soarynn nearly screams. The feeling is so overwhelming and he's a talented man with an even more talented mouth. Soarynn is inconsolable as he laps at her cunt, his tongue slightly delving into her entrance before pinpointing her clit.

Soarynn moans at the feeling, attempting to grind against his mouth but still being pinned down by his arm. Her hands grasp at the bedsheets and she feels herself growing closer and closer to what must be her peak. "Oh, oh, oh please," she moans, her right hand reaching down to grab her husband's blonde curls. Coriolanus groans when she tugs on them but it sounds like he enjoys her hands on him and she's in no position to stop unless he does.

Just as she's about to hit her peak, he pulls away. Soarynn lets out a frustrated groan and her legs immediately shut when Coriolanus sits back up. She feels sensitive all over and wonders how women do this on a daily basis. When she looks up at Coriolanus she can see him wearing a cocky expression, clearly proud of himself. She can also see the evident bulge growing through his pants and her throat dries at the sight.

"I'll show you how to return the favor another time," he says, his hands undoing his belt buckle. All Soarynn can do is nod because she doesn't quite trust herself to speak right now. It's an ungodly sight to see Coriolanus only in his underwear, a clear imprint of his cock now visible and he looks like he's on the bigger side.

The nerves kick back in as Soarynn is reminded of what is about to take place in a few minutes. Coriolanus pulls his boxers down and Soarynn visibly pales at the girth and length of his cock, the tip red and a bit of precum already visible.

He's going to tear her apart.

Any reassurances he gave her have flown out the window now because how on earth is that going to fit without being the most painful thing she's ever experienced?

Coriolanus takes notice of her distressed state and takes her hand in his, giving it a squeeze, "Don't be scared, I promise I'll go slowly, you'll get used to it after a few minutes."

It's made quite clear to her at that moment that he has every intention of still going through with the deed, even if it's at her own expense. The marriage must be consummated, no arguments there. And children are expected to come from the two of them sooner than later and Soarynn has a feeling that Coriolanus wants them as soon as possible.

But despite her underlying fears, Soarynn nods, "Okay."

Coriolanus positions himself over her, his arms caging her in as he lines himself up at her entrance. At least she's somewhat prepared, Soarynn can't imagine having sex while being dry as a bone down there. She didn't even try to get wet, it just happened. Coriolanus seems to have that effect on her.

There had been a handful of times when Soarynn attempted to make herself feel good by using her own fingers but she found it to be unsatisfying and after a while, boring. But Coriolanus is so different and now he's about to take her virginity, something she's guarded for so long, unbeknownst to her, for him.

"Try to hold still," he mumbles while slowly pushing into her. Soarynn grits her teeth at the uncomfortably stretch she feels. Coriolanus is big in girth but he keeps to his word and goes slowly, watching her reactions. There's a slight burn that Soarynn is sure she'll experience every single time they have sex. At one point she closes her eyes, unable to look into her husband's piercing gaze. She hopes she's not being too demanding or needy, she wants to be good for him.

Soarynn gasps when she feels him finally bottom out, the tip of his cock presses against a very sensitive spot inside of her, and her legs spasm. Coriolanus leans his forehead against her own and lets out a deep, strained breath, "Fuck you feel so good Soarynn." Soarynn nods but doesn't say anything, she wouldn't even know what to say.

Coriolanus stays there for a moment, letting her get used to the feeling before he slowly withdraws his hips from hers before thrusting back in. Soarynn moans at the new feeling, of her walls wrapping around him and how good it feels when he thrusts back into her.

She finally opens her eyes when he picks up the pace and is faced with a very attractive-looking Coriolanus Snow who seems to be focused on keeping his thrusts steady yet powerful. She can feel the pain ebbing away slowly but surely, the pleasure finally taking over.

Soarynn has been subjected to several detailed recollections of her friends losing their virginities since being married so you’d think that she would have an idea of what to expect and yet it’s entirely new and overwhelming to her.

Once the pleasure finally kicks in Soarynn finally understands why people obsess over sex the way they do. It feels amazing. He feels amazing.

“Oh,” she means, arching her back. Coriolanus looks down at her and flashes her a smile, “Feeling better now are we?” He continues to thrust deep inside of her and Soarynn curls her toes in response, “Yes,” she pants. She brings her hands up to his bare, broad shoulders so that she has something to hold onto and Coriolanus seems to take that as a challenge to take her harder than before.

One thing she’s learned about Coriolanus is that he can be very competitive when he wants to be. And apparently, that bleeds into their sex life as well.

Soarynn can feel herself reaching her peak once again but this time it’s stronger and better as if his mouth is truly no competition for his cock. “Fuck,” he grunts, placing one hand on her lower abdomen. It scrambles Soarynn’s brain when he does that and she lets out a whine, “Please, please,” she begs, her eyes becoming glassy.

Coriolanus goes harder and faster once she starts begging and it’s all too much for Soarynn who finally reaches her first orgasm. Her eyes roll back and she sees stars as her entire body nearly convulses from pleasure. Her perfectly manicured nails dig into his porcelain skin and her mouth is left wide open in a silent scream.

Coriolanus follows right behind her with his own orgasm, swearing under his breath as he finishes inside of her for the first time. Soarynn whimpers at the feeling, at his cum coating her walls, truly claiming her as his now.

Coriolanus takes a moment to calm down, resting on his forearms as he catches his breath. There’s sweat on his brow but he still looks handsome. “Are you alright?” He finally asks, brushing a stray hair from Soarynn’s face. She gives him a tired smile and nods, “Quite. That was…that was much better than what I could have ever imagined.”

Coriolanus laughs and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, a sweet gesture that Soarynn is rarely given but she cherishes all the same. “I’m sure with time, you’ll discover things you like and things you don’t like,” he tells her, his hand traveling down her abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Soarynn simply hums and lets him slowly pull out. It almost feels strange to be empty once again but Coriolanus looks mighty proud of himself as he looks down at the mess he’s made between her legs. Soarynn gasps when he swipes a finger up her cunt and it comes away sticky with a red-looking substance. She sits up on her elbows to see a small red stain on the once-white sheets as well.

Her blood. Well, looks like she’s not a virgin anymore.

Coriolanus gives her a rather sultry look, “Looks like you’re truly mine now darling.”

꧁ ꧂

꧁ Present Time ꧂

��Here we are, Mrs. Snow. Would you like me to wait?”

The driver’s words pull Soarynn away from her reminiscent moment and she nods, giving the driver a kind smile, “Yes, please. I won’t be long.”

If Coriolanus is as busy as she thinks he is, she’ll be in and out. Even though she wishes she could stay longer, be around him longer. It’s rather hard to get to know your husband if you only see him when he gets home from work.

But Soarynn pushes those negative thoughts away and opens the car door, stepping out onto the Capitol street in front of the large office building her husband works inside. A slight wave of dizziness hits her and she steadies herself against the car.

She’s been feeling a bit lightheaded for the past few days but she’s shrugged it off for the most part. She probably just needs to get some more sleep. But as she walks into the prominent office building and spots a front desk worker sporting a rather large pregnant stomach, it dawns on her that she might be pregnant.

Certainly, it couldn’t be. But maybe it could be. They certainly haven’t been having unprotected sex for the lack of trying to get pregnant and Soarynn knows that Coriolanus longs for children someday.

Pregnancy aside, Soarynn is here for one thing and one thing only. Her husband. She prepares herself for his closed-off demeanor while riding up in the elevator. She knows it’s nothing personal, that he’s not doing it to hurt her. That's simply how Coriolanus is.

Cold and calculated.

| Part 3. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[w1ngedsoul]

hi! can you do headcanons on being married to phil wenneck. please and thank you!!🩷

requests are open!

warnings: mentions of sex, sexual themes, swearing.

First of all, he would be the kind of husband to constantly compliment you and build up your confidence.

"Wow, I really can't speak, huh? Must be because of how gorgeous you look."

"There's not a single thing I don't love about you."

He's so sweet, it's honestly adorable 😭

When he introduces you to his friends, you all get along really well, especially you and Stu because of your careers in medicine.

He's the type of man to have your wedding date as his phone's password or tattooed onto his wrist.

He loves when he comes home after a long day of work and spots you humming to the radio while swaying yourself around the kitchen.

You'll feel warm arms wrap around your waist and his nose will bury itself into your neck.

He loves your scent, so much so, that whenever you go out with friends for a night away or a road trip, he'll walk over to your vanity and smell your perfume.

It's a mixture of vanilla and lavender, it makes Phil's mind go hazy when you walk past or when you're hugging him.

Phil loves pda. Even if it's something small like holding your hand or your lower back, he loves showing off your relationship. Showing that you're his.

Phil also loves cooking, you'll take it in turns each night to make tea and you'll each rate the other's meal out of five stars. Whoever has the most stars added up gets to choose a restaurant to eat out at.

Once for your birthday, he had told you to wear a pair of red panties to a fancy Korean restaurant, it was until Phil revealed a remote ten minutes that you had pieced together his plan.

The poor waiter, he took your order while you refrained from moaning aloud in front of everyone.

When you got pregnant with your first child, Phil was overjoyed. He bought diapers, dummies, toys, clothes, monitors, a small bathtub, a car seat, I could go on forever.

Let's just say by the end of your first trimester, you already have everything you'll need for your whole pregnancy.

He didn't need to watch tutorials on how to hold a baby, he used to volunteer to take care of his little brother when he was younger.

He got you to wear overalls because he thought you looked sexy in them, seeing you walk around adjusting the straps...

His mind wanders, I mean, there's not a rule to say sex is bad while pregnant...

Let's talk about Phil when he drives.

Lord have mercy 🙏

When his hands grip onto the steering wheel, while concentrating on the directions>>

I just know he gets road rage, no one can convince me otherwise.

"Move out the fucking way!"

"Watch it prick!"

🛐

Just watching him turn the steering wheel, or when he looks back while parking turns you on.

Most of the time, he'll notice the lust in your eyes and will park off to the side.

Sometimes you're stuck in traffic and he'll trail a hand up your thigh, a couple kisses are peppered upon your neck.

Once, you guys had been in traffic for around twenty minutes and Phil decided to take you in the back of the van he borrowed (what Stu doesn't know won't hurt him)

You had been in there for only five minutes when the road had started up again, all you could hear was loud beeping horns from angry drivers.

Phil would definitely try and get you to avoid Alan for one specific reason; he's a pervert.

Once, you, Phil and Alan got trapped in the basement of Stu's house without signal and Alan confirmed Phil's suspicion.

"Looks like we'll be trapped a while...y/n, is it?"

"Knock it off!"

Something that's always funny, is Phil coming home drunk.

"There was this girl, and she asked for my number and I was all like 'No! I have...a wife."

And then there's the part where he's really romantic.

"God, I love my wife. She's the most amazing woman I've ever met, you know? She has these eyes that are so bright, I could stare into them forever. And when she looks at me, I can't help but be nothing but honest with her. Do you have someone like that?"

"Yes, I do."

@bradleybeachbabe hope you enjoyed! Love you 💕

[lightofraye]

Hi there!

Per request, I cropped your name.

I also sent you an apology privately for how long it'd taken me to get to this. Largely because it's just a depressing thing to talk about. Danneel is doing classic abuser techniques here--putting him down; humiliating him in front of others (when at cons like Wales Comic Con) or having him repeating negative stories at cons himself; continuously finding fault with him; making him feel like the foolish one; disregarding his thoughts and/or emotions; and using sarcasm to cause harm.

Imagine having your own spouse, your partner of what... 17 years?... saying "You'll do" when they're stanning other, wealthier actors and stars. Like, wow. Consolation prize? Thanks? As though she didn't force his hand into proposing to him. Mind, Jensen even said she laid down an ultimatum--propose or she walked. That's love, for sure!

Imagine landing no less than three shows with Amazon and a regular guest starring appearance on a major broadcaster... and still being told "Not impressed". God. That's painful.

He may likely be so busy that despite what some AAs are saying ("It's only 1.5 hour flight to home!"), he might not even fly back home all that much. Why would he? For his kids? Absolutely. For his so-called loving wife? Not so much.

Have you noticed in that clip, Jared had to stop Jensen from rambling? Because he was listening to his friend and brother in all but blood put himself down repeatedly, hearing how his friend's wife is being emotionally abusive... in public, no less. I can't even imagine how Jared feels about this.

Mind, Jared knew Danneel before Jensen did (or so Danneel claimed). Ever notice how they barely ever hang out in the past? If all four of them--Jared, Gen, Jensen and Danneel--did hang out, Jared was rarely spotted with her. He knew what kind of person she was and wanted nothing to do with her.

Even Gen barely engaged with Danneel. Oh, Gen was friendly and warm in public--I'm reminded of that one live video where Gen praised Danneel's acting as Sister Jo/Anael on Sueprnatural and the look Danneel gave her... Danneel knew Gen didn't mean it.

Getting sidetracked here.

I know a lot of anti Jensens won't agree with me here, and that's all fine. We're allowed different opinions. Even those who are "Jensen critical" would disagree as well. Also fine. What I'm about to say next is my own personal opinion, speculation, and observation.

As I've mentioned before, I'm a survivor of abuse. From childhood onward, I've endured a variety. Emotional neglect, physical abuse, even sexual abuse as a child. That wrecks people. Because we're experiencing abuse from the hands of people who should love us. So if our own parents, siblings, relatives, whatever, are hurting us... we start to think: "Did I do something to deserve this mistreatment? Am I such a horrible person?"

And if that isn't corrected--and too often childhood survivors are overlooked and ignored, not able to get the help they desperately need, they often develop and grow into insecure adults with low self-esteem and low self-value.

One very common refrain will ring in their minds: "I am unworthy and undeserving of love."

This is where I feel Jensen's issues stem from. He was exploited by his parents for their gain and profit. Modeling, acting, often told by his father he's being punished out of love (thus creating a negative association of what love really is), and likely surrounded by a lot of people who use him for their gain and profit.

I can't speculate on the relationship between his parents, but what little I've heard and seen of Alan Ackles, it doesn't sound like a healthy example either.

If you don't know what a healthy relationship looks like, or experience it yourself... one struggles a lot. It's how generational trauma is created. My paternal grandfather... was abusive. Emotional and... otherwise (there's a massive skeleton in that closet that left me floored when I discovered it). My own father continued it. I'm determined to break it and I think I've largely succeeded. No, I didn't have a healthy relationship, but I grew strong enough to know what I had wasn't it.

I'd rather be single than in an unhappy relationship. Unfortunately, for so many survivors and victims, it's never easy. Because the voices in their head parroting the fears back to them lie.

It's sadly easier to say "Oh. That person made that choice! It's their own damned fault they're unhappy!" Or "They're the ones who stay!" It's easier to judge than it is to admit that it's not a cut-and-dry situation. That breaking the emotional abuse cycle, that breaking free from abuse in general, is never, ever easy.

I speak from experience. I lost quite a few friends because they actually thought I wanted to stay, or that I was being unreasonable in my fear. Not once did they bother to reach out and try to understand from my end.

"Oh just leave!"

No... it's never easy to "just leave".

Jensen's trapped in a very vicious cycle right now. He finds it easier to put himself down and think he deserves it, than to admit that he's in a situation that he could leave. It's scary to leave. It's the unknown. It's easier, in so many ways, to live with the pain we know than the pain we don't.

Danneel knows it, feeds on it, uses it.

I rambled on a lot. I appreciate your ask and your compassion for Jensen.

Thank you for reading.

[dostoyevsky-official]

Different anon just watching the drama go down. I'd hand you a lemonade or something because I don't want this to be vitriolic and combative, but unfortunately this is online. No-one's going to change their mind being screamed at and at the end of the day, we're not enemies, we're people who want the same thing and have a different idea about how best to reach that (and hell, maybe I'm wrong anyway, time will tell), so I'm gonna explain my point politely, and I mean no offense, which I hope gets through in my wording but hell, I'm terrible with tone so... let my intentions be known, at least.

I'll be real, I entirely get the revulsion to the presidential election and I agree on most points: something materially needs to be done to wrench the overton window left. The issue is, that not voting *isn't worth it*. It is an unmistakable truth that there will be more death and suffering under Trump. Abortion will almost certainly be nationally banned, transgender people will very likely be criminalized for their very existance, foreign policy will be significantly worse, the right will be emboldened to further violence, ecological damage will be significantly expediated with further fossil fuels, public education will be absolutely gutted, and there is a serious chance that all future efforts for progressive reforms will be sabotaged and made significantly more difficult. And whether or not *not voting* sends a message, it may very well not matter because any actual reform is going to be 10x harder. Plus, even excepting all that, voter turnout will likely not be attributed to Gaza but with mobilization efforts or just plain luck. The amount of people tumblr may be convincing not to vote this year is far closer to the number that could further jeopardize the election than to any amount that will convince Democrats that they should go back on years of self-selection for Israel support and the interests of Oil Executives who want the US to have a hold in the Middle East, if there even is a non-double-digits percentage of potential voters dissuaded by this for them to be convinced. These opinions are so widely-held that voting numbers would have to sway to an insane degree for them to get the message on this. And EVEN STILL, after all of that, if your opinion is to personally not vote, then while I disagree as a principle, I sympathize with the reality of it and I wouldn't chastise you. I get that it's far too utilitarian to suggest that *everyone* puts aside their issues with the Democrats, especially when those issues pertain to them in specific, like those with family in Gaza.

The issue comes in when someone campaigns for others not to vote. You don't have to campaign for anyone to vote but you can't claim that you're not doing harm when you actively tell people they're morally repulsive for voting. It is emperically non-neutral. Convincing other people not to vote is actively attempting to remove other votes, which is materially different from just not voting. Saying that you're not voting because of the Democrats' policy is entirely fair if you're being neutral and don't want to symbolically support Dems. Saying that anyone who doesn't refrain from voting is a morally reprehensible liberal is a step past that, and I do think it's fair to say that *at the minimum* this message and defense isn't honest, regardless of whether or not you believe it's worth not voting.

I admit that the amount of people who are defending Kamala and saying that she and the current administration haven't been reprehensible (for more than just Gaza) aren't honest either, and I disagree with and refuse to support that message, either.

That's not to say I think that laying down and giving up are justifiable either. There are plenty of other constructive ways to make change, especially by voting in local elections and campaigning for these issues in your communities, and I want to give you credit for doing that, for voting on local issues. But the vast majority of these posts campaigning against voting and even your original post do not mention these, and frankly the carte-blanche "do not vote", even if it included an exception to vote for local issues, still would significantly decrease the number of people who vote for these, because it is ultimately still telling people not to vote.

Ultimately, I just don't find it worth it.

(P.S.: Not a liberal, absolutely a progressive who's just as frustrated, angry, and betrayed as you, I've just seen so much shit get worse over the years because of similar campaigns and I'm concerned this is happening again.)

this is the only honest and thoughtful response i've received, to which i would only add that i'm in large agreement with you—up to the point of voting in states like new york, california, etc, which is what i have been saying all day. they're clearly not up for grabs. both the RNC and the DNC know this, while people every four years forget: there's a reason there's no campaigning in massachusetts. the community of people nationwide who care about gaza and are voting is, ultimately, small. it's upsetting to see people read and watch about gaza and go vote in these states, knowing perfectly how the electoral college functions. the vantage point in those states is more or less the same as that of anyone else on earth: a participant to outcomes that are preordained and to which your voice does nothing. it is a symbolic, and therefore in its assent a reprehensible, hypocritical action, in my opinion. i've expressed my disdain for empty voting before in criticizing those russians who went to vote for nadezhdin, then davankov. it's theater signifying nothing

[3hks]

Quick and Simple Tips to Elevate Your ACADEMIC Writing!

Essay writing is a different task for everyone. For some, it's pretty easy and straightforward, but for others, it's a serious battle and ungraspable concept! We're all at different levels when it comes to academic writing, and I'm 110% sure that I'm NOT the best writer out here, but if you're looking for some straight-to-the-point advice on improving your academic writing, I might just have what you need!

1. AVOID ABSOLUTES

An absolute is just as it sounds--it's a word that broadly guarantees something. For example, the words never, always, best, worst everyone, no one, are all absolutes!

When we use these in an essay, we're saying that there are zero exceptions to our topic, which is more often than not wrong (not always ;)).

If we say, "everyone likes ice cream", that's not necessarily true; not everyone likes ice cream. And while it seems harmless to use an absolute in this particular case, it's still technically misinformation, and in the formal, academic world, that's something we should avoid.

2. TRANSITION WORDS

In general, transition words are a super easy way to establish the order of our paragraphs and help connect our thoughts from one area to another! It requires minimal effort but they're so useful!

3. LITERARY PRESENT TENSE

When writing about the details that take place in literature, it's conventional to stay in the present tense. This is because in the story, the events are happening as you read. Of course, there are some circumstances when this doesn't happen, but when explaining an event that takes place right then in the story, present tense is the expectation.

4. NO FIRST/SECOND PERSON

Most of us should be aware of this; never use first or second person in academic writing. When you include second person and bring the reader into your essay, well, you're putting them in the spotlight, which is often considered informal. And for first person, in the grand scheme of things, no one really cares about your opinion. (Just kidding! But when readers see words like "I think...", "my opinion...", etc., it reveals bias, which can compromise your essay.)

5. ADJECTIVES, ADVERBS, ADJECTIVES

Use as MANY adjectives (and adverbs) as you can! Yes, I'm well aware that excessively wordy sentences are something to avoid, but that's a problem usually revolving around redundancy and incorporating too much excess information, not because of a few descriptors.

When you use a LOT of adjectives and adverbs, it strengthens your writing with more details and specifically describes your subjects!

6. MEMORIZATION

For the most part, a thesaurus really comes in handy when it comes to essay writing. Finding strong substitutions and varying word choice is a key aspect in writing. However, it's also a good idea to have a simple list of certain, commonly used synonyms memorized in case you don't ever have access to a thesaurus! For the most part, I suggest memorizing some synonyms to any verbs you frequently use. (Ex: shows, explains, depicts, etc.)

But if you've been writing for a while, there's a good chance you'll subconsciously have a mental list anyway!

7. NO BE VERBS

The seven "be verbs":

Is

Are

Was

Were

Am

Be

Being

Been

If you seriously want to really elevate your sentences and make them sound good, avoid these weak verbs. You can do this by substituting be verbs for stronger verbs, which creates a stronger sentence overall! Or you might need to reorder the structure of the sentence, which could alter the meaning slightly, but it won't change the initial idea!

Ex: She is happy today. -> She feels happy today.

Ex: Although the weather was unpredictable, the event was considered a great success for those who attended. -> Despite the unpredictable weather, many considered the event a great success.

So, if you still use "be verbs" in your essays, I challenge you to begin refraining yourself from using them to the best of your ability! While it may seem difficult, I promise you that this will take you academic writing to the next level! Keep in mind that verbs are critical to your essay!

Happy writing~

3hks :D

[doubleca5t]

As a longtime fan of yours who learned she was trans through your videos... I gotta say it doesn't sit right with me that you seem to call just about anything "radfem" (by which you implicitly mean terf even though they aren't actual the same thing). Just two recent examples include that post where you called female dating strategy radfems...which like... No???... And then you called that one anon a radfem just bc they questioned whether relating to anime girls who are indeed primarily drawn by men centers men. Like... That's a rly valid conversation to have. As an Asian transfem, I'm disturbed by how many trans girls think anime girls are peak womanhood (even as a joke) because 1) too many white tgirls are very weird about the racial aspect of "wanting to be anime girls" (some even taking japanese names) and 2) many of their designs are so obviously misogynistic. I've rambled a bit but I'm so serious I feel like the queer community is watering down what it means to be a terf to the point where it's quickly becoming meaningless. Can we stop?

I think these are very valid concerns. I can admit to being trigger happy when accusing people of terfery because of how much I've been harassed by them and that's something I need to work on. I also completely agree with your points on the weird, orientalist attitude that a lot of white transfems have towards anime girls. While I do enjoy anime, anime girls certainly are not my model for womanhood.

I will try to refrain from lobbing too many accusations of radfem behavior, or at the very least try to explain with more clarity *why* I feel some things are radfem adjacent. With female dating strategy specifically, I stand by my belief that they approach dating from a toxic perspective that is couched in radfem attitudes.