#my fiancé isn't even mean about it or anything

[girlonthemoon81]

The real NBA is back in business and (Black) males are already showing their asses on the ex-Bird app after Yahoo Sports posted a video of Arike and her fiancée, Lala Ronay, showing support for her. I've noticed there are two types of misogynistic replies when people see the "femme" and "masc" lesbian dynamic. Both are very degrading, but often only one side of the coin is discussed as misogynistic, which is how the feminine-presenting lesbian isn't ACTUALLY a lesbian. Because people do not see women as human beings and think that if a woman is presenting herself in a stereotypical way that has been conditioned onto us under patriarchy (by this I mean performing femininity to be consumable), then we must be male-obsessed and only crave anything and everything male. This kind of language is something I often see with Dijonai Carrington and Nalyssa Smith, but my biggest gripe is that oftentimes this language isn’t even just used by (Black) males but by everyone. The erasure of feminine presenting lesbians as actually queer is the result of a society that only sees women’s value in how well they serve male desire and if they “fail” to do that by loving other women, then they either must be “saved” by the right man or dismissed as confused. The other side of the coin is that, again, because people do not see women as human beings, they see women who perform femininity (ref. Lala and Dijonai) in lesbian relationships as sexual trophies that have been claimed and “tamed.” It’s disgusting how people speak about women like this because to a lot of people, this language seems so liberating and empowering but it’s so fucking degrading. People are saying, “Arike bagged that,” “Her wife is pressure,” “Arike, I wasn’t familiar with your game.” And this seems like super harmless language, but really it’s highly objectifying as a woman because you know nothing of their relationship, or who she is, or what they are like together, other than that she is conventionally attractive and fits into the “baddie” aesthetic. It just seems to me people are praising alot feminine-presenting queer women's "access." These people don’t value relationships based on love, care, equity, and trust. They value those who appear to be “winning” in a social hierarchy built on desirability politics, and unfortunately, this is something that’s huge in lesbian spaces, too. People replicate these same heterosexual dynamics and social norms, and it’s why I fucking hate the “bad bitch” trope. You do not see women as complex human beings, just as prizes to claim and conquer. And I’ve said it before, but this is actually so depressing on both ends. The feminine-presenting partner gets objectified and dehumanized through the “bad bitch” lens and is presumed to be male-obsessed and just needs the “right man.” Meanwhile, the masculine-presenting partner is completely forgotten and barely paid attention to unless they are living vicariously through their feminine-presenting partner by pandering to them online and sometimes even exploiting their “femininity”/looks for that wanted attention and desirability they do not get from rejecting the fascist, patriarchal standards of what it means to be a “woman.”

[mercvry-glow]

Hey Lover

parings. jack abbot x younger!reader

warnings. age gap (jack late 40s, reader late 20s/early 30s), hospital setting, reader has a sprained ankle, reader isn't treated the best by the ed, nothing too serious overall, reader is considered to be bratty, some suggestive parts but it’s just comments between reader and jack, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I love jack and younger reader, I felt there was a lot of me in this one lol! since so many of you requested this hopefully y'all don't find her demeanor annoying, I read it as the reader is a bit scared and defensive knowing that the ed doesn't particularly like her for whatever reason. but as always please enjoy and feedback is appreciated as always!

wc. 2200+

You could admit you weren’t the easiest person to get along with.

You liked your oat milk lattes extra hot, your lip gloss to match your water bottle, and your schedule planned down to the exact minute. You didn’t do chaos. And people around here—meaning, this godforsaken hospital where your fiancé worked twelve-hour trauma shifts—tended to mistake that kind of organization for being high-maintenance.

And Fine. You were a little high-maintenance. But you weren’t mean… And you definitely didn’t deserve to be sitting in some back hallway of the PTMC ER with your hair still in a claw clip, mascara running down your cheeks, and one ankle the size of a grapefruit.

You sighed dramatically, shifting on the gurney. Your baby blue workout hoodie was streaked with tears and did little to hide the shame you felt in this very moment. Your phone was cracked. And worst of all—your favorite pilates socks had blood on them.

Today was not your day.

“I’ve been here for forty-five minutes,” you muttered, crossing your arms and wincing when your movement tugged your wrapped foot. “And if one more person tells me to ‘just wait,’ I’m going to scream.”

The nurse behind the little desk—tight bun, tired eyes, and feeling high and mighty—didn’t even look up. “Ma’am, we’re triaging other trauma patients—”

“I am also a trauma,” you said, gesturing at your foot. “Just because it happened in pilates at 5am and not a bar doesn’t make it less traumatic. I heard a crack.”

From across the nurses’ station, someone mumbled, “No wonder Dr. Abbot keeps her a secret.”

You froze. The room spun a little, but not from the injury.

Jack.

You blinked hard, biting down on your tongue. You knew what they thought. What they always thought. That Jack Abbot—with his calm voice, sharp eyes, and salt-and-pepper curls—couldn’t possibly be serious about you. That you were too much. Too loud. Too shiney. Too young.

But he’d never made you feel like that. Not once.

You tucked your phone tighter under your arm and exhaled through your nose, preparing to wait another hour—until the door to another room swung open into the hallway.

There he was.

Jack in a white long-sleeve under his scrubs, his stethoscope around his neck, and his hazel eyes already scanning the room. When he saw you—half-dressed like a ladies health magazine, clutching a cracked phone and looking entirely out of place—his whole face changed.

“ Are you serious right now?” he muttered, storming toward you. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were here?”

“She didn’t ask for you,” someone muttered.

Jack didn’t even look at them. He was crouched in front of you already, gently brushing his hand over your shin, checking the wrap someone had done.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you said quietly, lip wobbling just a bit. “It’s just an ankle. And, like… mild humiliation.”

His jaw ticked. “It’s not just anything if you’re hurt.”

“I fell trying to do that stupid split thing you like—”

He gave you a look.

“Okay, gracefully collapsed trying to do the split thing. And my instructor screamed, so then I screamed, and I cried in front of a room full of strangers.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I ruined my socks.”

Jack sighed and kissed the top of your knee, just above the bandage. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Take me home? Get me out of this place in a timely manner?”

His laugh was quiet but real, and he kissed you again, this time on the forehead.

Behind him, someone coughed pointedly. He stood, slowly.

“She needs a reevaluation. Now.”

The nurse gave a half-hearted “x-ray is backed up” shrug.

Jack’s tone turned colder than ice. “Then she’s priority after critical. Or get someone who cares and tell them why I’m walking my injured fiancée to get care, myself.”

That got people moving.

Jack helped you up, one arm tight around your waist. You clung to him dramatically, batting your lashes like you weren’t totally milking the attention—but under it, you could feel his heart racing.

“You okay?” you asked, glancing up.

His voice dropped low. “Not until you are.”

You smiled, a little smug. “Told you pilates was dangerous.”

He just shook his head, holding you closer. “I should’ve never let you sign up.”

“You didn’t let me. You said, and I quote, ‘try not to flirt with your instructor this time.’”

“Yeah, well. Next time I’m going with you.”

“You in pilates?” You snorted. “Please. Your hips are too tight.”

“I have very flexible hips, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Bed's ready,” a night shift nurse called.

You smirked at Jack. “To be continued.”

He groaned. “This is why they all hate you.”

You winked. “They only hate me ‘cause you love me, other than that I don’t know.”

And by the way he looked at you—like he’d walk through fire just to kiss you again—you knew you were absolutely right.

The space they gave you wasn’t fancy, but it was private. Probably borrowed from someone in observation or cleared just for Jack’s peace of mind. He didn’t say a word as he helped you onto the bed, tucking a blanket over your legs like you were made of glass.

“I’m not dying,” you said, wrinkling your nose as he fussed with your ankle.

“You’re really annoying,” he muttered. But his hands were gentle, steady as always, checking your range of motion and rewrapping your foot with crisp, even lines.

You watched him work, the little furrow between his brows, the tiny flecks of gold in his hazel eyes that always showed up when he was worried. His curls were a little messy, probably from running his hand through them a hundred times today, and his sleeves were pushed up, exposing the veins on his forearms you’d once drunkenly referred to as "your Roman Empire."

“You’re staring,” he said without looking up.

“You’re so hot,” you replied simply.

Jack huffed but didn’t argue.

He finished taping your ankle and stood, brushing your hair back from your face. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s a sprain, not a break, but you need to stay off of it for at least a week. Actually stay off it, not your version of resting.”

“Which is?”

“Pilates in a boot.”

You grinned. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“I’ll cancel your gym membership myself.”

You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I pay for it, try me.”

You didn’t win that stare-down. He kissed your forehead again instead.

“Get some rest. I’ll check in after I get off here in a few.”

You pouted. “You’re leaving me?”

Jack gave you a look. “I’m an attending. I can’t just disappear mid-surge.”

“Tell Robby I said please, I saw him walking around.”

That got a faint laugh out of him. “No more sass. Be good.”

You made an angelic face. “I’m always good.”

He was halfway out the door when you added, “And please ask someone if they can bring me an ice water! Or tell them you’ll do it.”

“I just said—”

You batted your lashes.

Jack muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the hallway.

Twenty minutes later, Jack was standing near the lockers, hands on hips, when Robby stepped in with two bottled waters and a raised eyebrow.

“Your girl okay?” he asked, handing Jack one.

Jack nodded, cracking the lid open. “Sprained her ankle trying to impress a pilates instructor, apparently.”

“Sounds like her.” Robby sat beside him, stretching his legs out with a sigh. “She looked like she was about to throw hands when the nurse offered her ice chips.”

Jack huffed out a quiet laugh. “That tracks.”

“She really hates being fussed over, huh?”

Jack shot him a look.

“Okay,” Robby amended, hands up in mock surrender, “unless it’s by you.”

Jack didn’t argue. He leaned back against the wall, letting the silence hang a minute before Michael spoke again—more careful this time.

“She’s got some… strong energy going on today.”

Jack didn’t respond right away. Just glanced down at the bottle in his hands, then back up. “You don’t have to pretend you like her, man.”

“I’m not trying to judge,” Robby said, more gently. “You know that. I just… never pictured you with someone so… you know.”

“She’s also the first person I’ve met who makes me laugh like hell and still checks if I’ve eaten when I forget to eat. And she always puts me first. Even when it costs her.”

Robby’s brow creased slightly, more thoughtful than anything. “I get that. I do.. She always asks if I’m looking after you, like I’m the one keeping you alive.”

Jack’s lips twitched. “You kinda are.”

“Okay, but—” Robby pointed a finger at him. “She brings you little smoothie things and reminds you to call your sister and randomly knows what you need on your worst days. I see that. Doesn’t mean I fully get her, but I’m not against her.”

Jack finally relaxed, his shoulders dropping a bit.

“She’s not always easy,” he admitted. “But she’s real. And when it’s just the two of us? She’s… soft. Like, the kind of soft I didn’t know I wanted. She brings out all this stupid shit in me.”

Robby tilted his head. “You’re kind of a sap.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Jack deadpanned.

Robby smirked, bumping his shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Just then, a nurse poked her head around the corner, clearly amused. “Dr. Abbot? Your fiancée says she can’t find her lip balm and her lips feel like they’re about to crack. She says quote—‘You know the one I mean.’”

Jack didn’t even blink. “Little pink tube, side pocket of her purse. Tell her I’ll grab it.”

The nurse grinned and ducked back out.

Robby blinked slowly. “You really do know her inside out.”

Jack shrugged, already standing. “She’d do the same for me.”

As he disappeared down the hall, Robby watched him go, still smiling. He might not fully understand your dynamic—but he didn’t have to. Jack was happy, the girl loved him, and honestly? That was more than enough as a friend. 

A bit later you had barely settled into your space—fluffy blanket over your lap, perfectly stacked hospital pillows behind your back, and a comically large cup a nurse had left on the tray—when a soft knock hit the doorframe.

You glanced up, lip gloss freshly reapplied despite the fact you were still in the hospital.

Michael leaned in with his hands in the pockets of his blue hoodue, looking not nearly as judgmental as you were expecting.

“Hey,” he said, voice lower than usual. “Jack’s finishing up his last consult, so I figured I’d check in. How’s the ankle?”

You gave a bright (but very practiced) smile. “Swollen, hideous, and humiliating. But I’m surviving. Thank you.”

Robby chuckled lightly, stepping further in. “Well, the good news is you’ll walk again.”

“Oh, thank god. I was already mentally rearranging my living room for crutches.” You paused, then added, “I promise I wasn’t being dramatic earlier. I just… hate being in here. Even not as a patient, hospitals just freak me out.”

His brow lifted slightly. “You hang around one enough.”

“Yeah, but usually I’m here with iced coffee and lunch for my fiance, not a bum ankle.”

He smiled at that, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “You really do come in like a hurricane when Jack’s on shift.”

You looked down, suddenly fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah. Sorry if I’ve been too much. I know I’m not exactly… subtle.”

Robby tilted his head. “You’re not.”

You blinked, and he quickly added, “But you clearly care about him. And that counts for a lot.”

You looked up again, surprised.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he continued, more thoughtful now. “You’re different from what I imagined for him. But then I saw how he talks about you. How he looks at you.”

You felt your face heat up.

“He’s a lot lighter with you around,” Robby said simply. “Which is wild, because I didn’t even think that was possible.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “He’s not really the warm-and-fuzzy type.”

“No, but he’s yours,” Robby said with a small shrug. “And that seems to be working out.”

You stared at him for a second, then leaned back against your pillows. “So… you don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you,” Robby said honestly. “I just didn’t know you.”

You let out a soft breath, genuinely touched. “Well. You’ve officially been upgraded to my favorite of Jack’s coworkers.”

“That’s a low bar,” he quipped. “But I’ll take it.”

The curtain rustled suddenly and Jack poked his head in, curls messier than beforer and his hazel eyes immediately scanning you.

“You good?” he asked.

“She’s fine,” Robby said before you could speak, already backing up toward the door. “Being brave. And dramatic. But mostly brave.”

Jack gave you a long, warm look. “Dramatic is her default.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

Michael was already halfway out the door. “Later, lovebirds.”

Once it was just the two of you, Jack pulled up a chair beside your bed and took your hand.

“You okay?”

“I will be,” you said softly. “Especially now that I know your work bestie doesn’t think I’m a total disaster.”

Jack smirked. “You are a total disaster. But you’re my disaster.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“Shut up and kiss me, Dr. Abbot.”

And he did.

mercvry-glow 2025

[pseudowho]

Stoic

When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.

Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant

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'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.

A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"

"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"

"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"

"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"

Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.

Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.

"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."

Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.

"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"

"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"

"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"

"--why are we doing this--"

"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"

Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"

"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"

Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"

"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"

Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.

"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"

The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.

"...what did I miss?"

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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Daryl Dixon SFW alphabet."

Summary: Daryl Dixon's version of the SFW alphabet with you as a couple.

@artsynana: hii dear, i was thinking, have you ever though about writing some sfw headcanons with daryl? i would love to see something like that written by you🥰🥰

Hey love. Sorry it took me a while to do this, my brain has been out of ideas :( This isn't the best, but I hope you like it! Thanks.

A/N: I sometimes include some excerpts from my stories to give you an idea (don't hate me, I have to promote them haha)

A = Affection (How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?)

In public, Daryl is painfully uncomfortable with displays of affection considering he never knew what it’s like, so he’d just stand by your side, always close, always making sure you’re in his line of sight if he can’t get close. He just… has to know where you are (not possessively, but the idea of ​​losing you is inconceivable). Daryl is a protector, now imagine him with the person he’d want to spend his life with. Maybe cupping your cheek as a quick caress or a kiss on your forehead before either of you has to go on a search for supplements.

Privately Daryl became more accustomed to them until he needed to do it himself.

B = Best friend (What would he be like as a best friend?)

Whether you're the talkative one or the quiet one, or both, the beginning of a friendship would be confusing for Daryl. Having someone Daryl could confide in, someone he could open up to, considering that his whole life he's had to keep quiet or bottle up his own feelings, both good and bad, would be a huge step for him. But like I said, Daryl is a protector, to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anyone who dared to disrespect you (a warning first, of course. His temper is short, sorry, but he's learned to handle it), but disrespecting you in the sense that he feels you're being insulted, threatened, or way before he feels you're in danger.

C = Cuddles (Does he like to cuddle?) (The little spoon)

Glenn helps Carol as Daryl places his arms under your legs and shoulders, lifting you up so he can carry you into the bedroom, but then, a silly thought shines in your mind and pushes out of your lips before you can stop it.

“Did you know Daryl likes being the little spoon?”

Daryl feels the heat rise to his cheeks as everyone stops to stare at him.

“I like it, so what?” He says embarrassed, but trying to keep a straight face so no one would laugh at him.

Daryl would come to love the idea of ​​cuddling too, because for him, feeling HIS person against him, protected even in dreams is comforting because it's the only place he can protect you 100 percent, (I mean, with those strong arms, hehe) Rick or Carol may be the only ones who can tease him when they sense Daryl is somewhat grumpy for not being with you at night due to some runs, telling him not to even think about trying to cuddle up against them. Also because Daryl wasn't a deep sleeper or even didn't sleep at all, maybe that's why feeling the body of the person he loves helps him fall asleep, to feel like he's not alone anymore.

D = Domestic (Does he want to settle down? Like, make him and you a real family)

Daryl would hint (shy and awkward hehe) that it would be nice to have a house of your own, maybe in Alexandria. He did live in a house, yes, but with you, it would be his first home. It would be like giving the child living in him a chance at being loved correctly, too.

E = Ending (If he has to break up with his partner)

It's so hard for someone like Daryl to trust another person, to love another person, that when he is in a relationship, it would be for a long, long time. His whole life, he lived without thinking about the future or having expectations for anything, so if Daryl dared to love you even though he thought you deserved better, or that you could be loved better, he wouldn't break up with you on purpose.

F = Fiancé (How does he feel about commitment?) (What it means to me)

“Why did you come back for the ring?”

As the men keep digging a grave for Tina and the other bodies, Daryl stops to look at Sherry, who’s looking at an empty spot beyond all that pain. She doesn’t look back at him, and just wait for an answer.

"S’ jus’ a ring for ya but it means somethin’ important to me.”

A second later, Sherry finally looks at him.

“What is that?”

Daryl knows a promise can be broken, not by him, but by that dangerous world and how a life can end in a second, so the ring is, or will be a symbol of a truth, if he gets the opportunity to give it to you.

“It means I’ll love ma wife for the rest of ma life. S’ the only promise I can make to her.”

Daryl never thought about being anyone's something, not wanting to settle down and much less commit, it would be something he dislikes (it terrifies him actually) but with you, who showed him only the good and the beautiful that life has to offer, he would unwittingly start having those thoughts about what it would be like to do all of that only with you. The idea of ​​getting a ring for you, of having something visual that makes you his (not in a possessive way) that after having nothing, having you bearing his last name would be everything.

G = Gentle (How gentle is he?)

Daryl is tough and imposing with his physique and the menacing way his gaze alone can convey, but he quickly learned to be less rude with you and the people he loves and considers family.

H = Hugs (Does he likes hugs?)

It's not that he doesn't like it, it's just that Daryl doesn't know how to be physically loving. My poor baby is awkward as hell, so maybe at first, just to annoy him and even make him uncomfortable, you'd give him hugs even for breathing because even you can tell he's never received one. But the idea of ​​you expressing your love like that is fascinating to Daryl until he understands that it's a normal part of life, and that he doesn't have to work hard to deserve one.

If you haven't seen each other in a while, Daryl would need to keep you pressed against his body for a while, so that he physically understands that you're really there, close again.

I = I love you (Like Gravity)

“God dammit, woman, if I didn't love ya so much they'd be cookin' in a stew.” He freezes for a second, listening clearly to his heartbeat as he walks away, but Daryl has to clear his throat so his voice wouldn’t break off mid–sentence. “Let's go over there and see if we can get some squirrels instead.”

The L word. Daryl knows well that you love him and that he loves you, but saying it out loud, it would be the thing that would forever define your relationship at the beginning, perhaps when he still fears that the foundations of your love aren't fully built, when he still senses that someone better will come along. But the moment Daryl understands that, despite his imperfections, you won't walk away by your own choice, he'll feel safe saying it because he knows well you'll say it back. For him, love is in the small things, but every once in a while, he says it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous can he get? (You are)  

Your skin feels cold again when Daryl's hand leaves your body, even if your skin feels boiling hot when the attention falls on you like the midday sun in that stifling season. As if someone had put their hand on your throat until it was blocked from air, your uncomfortable laughter comes out muffled, but you don’t answer before changing topics. But it's sad that after a short while, Daryl stands up to go to his own cell, his thoughts running wild with the jealousy he feels about that guy, thinking that there was someone who made you feel something when, for him, you were his first everything.

Insecure more than jealous, but jealous too (?). At the beginning of the relationship, Daryl is jealous of everyone because he’s convinced that everyone is better for you than him, that anyone could offer you more and something better, that at any moment he's going to ruin what he has with you, to the point of indirectly sabotaging the relationship without realizing it. Daryl needs time to understand that what you feel for him isn't temporary and isn't in danger of disappearing, until he no longer feels threatened by anyone.

But if you two are together and someone is trying to flirt by making you uncomfortable and even trying to cross the line of your security, it's like letting the lion out of its cage. Daryl would literally eat the poor bastard alive. (In fiction, I love those men hahaha)

K = Kisses (What are his kisses like?)

It depends, if they're those in the middle of the game, they'd be pretty deep. The idea is consuming in his mind, the idea of ​​knowing that after those comes the best *wink* Daryl loves the idea of ​​feeling his person's lips on his, because the nerves they still produce in him are exciting, how something as simple as greeting each other like that at any time of the day is simple but powerful for him. It's not something he takes for granted, especially at the moment when someone has to go to a run if you both can't go together.

L = Little ones (Babies?) (Make you happy)

“It means positive.” You answered softly, your heart beating faster.

Daryl’s mind ran as fast as possible, registering your words, processing who he was and who he will be: a future father?

“Are we…” Daryl finally said, but he had to clear his throat first. “Happy ‘bout it?”

He looked confused, not angry.

“I don’t know. Are we?”

Then, he did the last thing you thought he would do: Daryl started smiling, just a little bit.

“Yeah, I mean, I'm fuckin’ scared, but…” He paused, looking at you with a worried expression, and his voice became even lower. “But if ya don’ want to have her I would get that, ‘cause for yer face ya ain’t lookin’ so sure ‘bout it.”

Daryl was always terrified of the idea of ​​becoming his father, or even just a shadow of that man and harming a baby, which is why he never wanted children. He knew his temper was short and explosive to the point of losing control, and that was a big NO. But Daryl, without realizing it, cared for Judith since she was a baby until a thought settled in his mind: the idea that he couldn't be that bad, not when he would give his life for someone who wasn't his blood daughter. And if Daryl would do it for her, what wouldn't he do for someone who was?

Whether it was an accident or something you two were looking for, Daryl would be an amazing dad, showing his baby nothing but love and happiness.

M = Mornings (How are the mornings with him?)

Daryl sleeps more soundly since you've been with him, but he's not someone who wants to spend all day in bed every day. The day starts early for him, although the idea of ​​waking up next to someone after sleeping alone his whole life does make him want to stay there a little longer.

N = Nights (How are nights with him?) (The way to heal a heart)

From his side, Daryl sleeps with his back to you. However, lying on your left side and as you drift off into a light sleep, you feel Daryl rolling over in bed, blindly searching for the warmth of your body, pressing himself against you, because that reminded him that he is still alive.

With nightmares or insomnia after a lifetime of abuse, Daryl didn't relish the idea of ​​going to sleep, but sleeping together solved the problem. Even unconsciously at first, his body blindly sought yours when you first started sleeping together, until it became a necessity for Daryl to physically feel you, perhaps a hand on your waist or your stomach or your back, or until his body was pressed against yours.

O = Open (When would he start revealing things about himself?)

Little by little, because the traumatic memories felt like reliving them once Daryl said them out loud. The idea that saying them and look weak and vulnerable was inconceivable to him, but there was something about your tone of voice, without a hint of pity for him and only understanding when he crossed his own line and told you the first story one night.

P = Patience (How easily angered he gets?) (A little hope)

But too terrified to feel too much when Daryl was used to feeling little, or nothing at all, he turned away from you for a very long time, always taking the opposite path, coming when you were leaving, never coinciding, confusing when his feelings awaken and made a mess of his life.

But being shot by Andrea was like his breaking point, leading him to isolate himself in the room until he was better, walking outside only during the nights so as not to suffocate within the four walls all day. A random night as you walk back late, you see him standing against the back wall, and fighting against the current, you try to get closer, just one more time before deciding to walk away from him forever, but Daryl was the reflection of a battered animal, always on the verge of attacking before being attacked.

And he gives you the WHOLE speech.

“…battin’ yer eyelashes at me n’ always hopin’ for the best, givin’ me hope for somethin’ I know ain’t gonna happen between us. M’ fuckin’ sick of seein’ ya.”

Again, a really short patience, or sometimes Daryl doesn't have any of that, but he learned to calm his temper, not to get carried away by his own frustration, and not to yell or want to escape quickly from situations that made him uncomfortable. The idea of ​​attacking so as not to be attacked again was burned into his mind, always feeling that he was not wanted anywhere, but the time and the family Daryl made taught him that he was loved and that he was an essential part of others' lives.

Q = Quizzes (How much would he remember about you?)

He remembers absolutely everything. Daryl has a practically perfect memory, recalling even things you considered unimportant. Like a good hunter, Daryl is able to notice even the smallest pieces, tiny things that go unnoticed by others, but not by him, and this ability is even more surprising because he started paying attention to you even before you were a thing: storing in his mind even those tiny behaviors of yours that no one else noticed. Now imagine when he and you became something.

R = Remember (What is his favorite moment in your relationship?)

Daryl doesn't take being with you for granted, so he believes every moment means something special.

S = Security (How protective is he?) (Karma Butterfly)

“A fuss?” Daryl grunts under his breath, those words souring his mouth. “A moron threatened ma wife and ya don’ want me to make a damn fuss?”

But as the sweet karma that is about to punch Spencer right in the face just as Daryl’s fist would do, Spencer walks down the street toward the car, smiling at Rick like the good boy he pretended to be. However, Daryl’s anger covers his eyes and paints the world red as he walks towards him just to punch Spencer before Glenn or Rick can try to stop him, hitting him so hard that Daryl makes him fall. Daryl falls on him too, with all the weight of his body, punching the thick skin of the wolf. His strong arms push away who tries to pull him back, his ears covering with the word threat, his fists turning red as blood leaves Spencer’s face.

“Daryl, stop!” Finally, Rick pulls him hardly, giving Spencer some time to breathe again. “You’re gonna kill him!”

“That’s the fuckin’ plan!” Daryl shouts back, trying to avoid Rick’s body as he looks straight at Spencer. “M’ gonna kill ya, coward! Nobody messes with ma wife!”  

Once again, Daryl is a protector, to the point of giving his life for the person he loves. Keeping you safe from any kind of threat is a duty to him. Feeling like you're in any kind of danger is devastating to him, which is why Daryl would dedicate his life to keeping yours safe, from anything living or not. Losing you is what terrifies him more than the thought of something happening to him.

T = Try (How much effort would he put into different things)

Love for Daryl is in the little things: like bringing something for you during a run, for example, a book, a cassette, something simple but a meaningful reminder that life in that new world is still life just because he has you.

U = Ugly (Some bad habits of his?)

That he's not bothered at all by the grease of his motorcycle when Daryl's fixing it or the blood on his clothes, that he doesn't notice it until you point it out. He'd respond that it's not that bad and that you're just being picky until you threatened to make him sleep in the yard if he didn't fix it.

(I'm not saying smoke because I do it too, sorry)

V = Vanity (How concerned is he with his looks?)

Not worried at all. Even though Daryl's physical appearance has attracted the attention of the local women in Alexandria, he's oblivious to his appearance, becoming even shy when you tease him about his long hair, which makes him look like a rock star, or the muscles in his arms exposed in his sleeveless shirt.

 W = Whole (How would he feel without you?)

After living alone his entire life, finding you gave Daryl the desire to never be without you again. The idea of ​​falling in love was almost like a bad joke to him, although in reality he was also terrified of loving too much and losing (among other things). But feeling loved by you made him feel complete, so yeah, he doesn't want to live without you anymore.

X = Xtra (A random thing about him?)

Maybe how quickly he becomes shy when you tease him? but he tries to hide it with a snort.

Y = Yuck (What are some things he doesn’t like about you?)

Nothing. Maybe just your own tendency to do things alone, which sometimes got on his nerves because of his fear of you getting hurt. Daryl knows you're independent and can take care of yourself, but since life taught you that you could handle everything on your own, you sometimes forget that it's okay to have someone else to help you.

Z = Zzz (What are some sleep habits of his?) (My everything)

“15 minutes to make the milk? I was starting to get worried actually." You raise an eyebrow, speaking softly. "Why did you take so long? The milk is in the kitchen, not in another country."

"Sorry, sweetheart." Daryl apologizes as he hands you the bottle, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch his daughter stop crying the moment she feels the bottle against her pretty pink lips. "I closed ma eyes and jus' fell asleep for a minute."

You frown, continuing to stroke Marley's back.

"In a chair? On the counter?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl's head falls until he almost hits his chest with his own chin, waking up from his light sleep before looking back at you. It's still funny to you how easy it was for him to go without sleep all those years, but after a month with Marley, Daryl considered killing walkers an easier task.

"What? No. Standin’. Didn't know that was even possible."

Being a light sleeper, or not sleeping at all sometimes because of nightmares was Daryl's weakness, but sleeping with you developed a good sleep habit on him. He still wakes up early, but sleeps soundly since you two lived within the safety of Alexandria's walls, although since his daughter was born, Daryl truly understood what it was like to go without sleep.

[saerotonins]

in a world full of boys, he's a gentleman

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

— in which kento unintentionally proves how much of a husband material he is.

content warnings: fluff, smut, light angst, suggestive, making out, nanami kento being a certified hubby, fiancée!kento, weddings, mentions/implied slut-shaming, reader has horrible relatives, reader is described to be non-traditional, riding, p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, curses still exist but nobody dies (yay!) and geto is mentally fine and a teacher at jujutsu tech <33, im so in love with him, some can be considered bare minimum and subtle but idc if he does it he's the standard, kento loves it when you're checking him out, just kento being a gentleman, kento is so in love with you, you you and you in his mind, reader is just as the same btw, corny ass vow (idk how to write one srry)

wc: 5591 (holy shit lol)

note: im!! so!! head!! over!! heels!!! with!! this!! man!! (it's really not that obvious, right?) he's so dreamy he deserves a lot of kissy kisses and a ticket to malaysia <33 also!! just realized this is my first piece for 2024 tehehe happy new year, everyone! 🎀🎆

best enjoyed with: slut! - taylor swift

that time when you both went out for a picnic

the sunset paints the sky with the most vibrant colors as you and kento bask in each other's presence and sit on a picnic blanket, surrounded by the quiet sways of the green grass, accompanied by some people who decided to hang out around the vicinity.

it's one of those days that kento is blessed by once in a blue moon break from being a jujutsu sorcerer. kendo's always grateful to have this kind of day because it would mean that his hands would spend their time stealing soft touches against your skin instead of fighting curses.

a faint clink can be heard when you and kento toast your glasses together, half filled with your favorite champagne. it's a tad bit sweet to kento's liking as he is not good with sweets, but he opted to bring it to your picnic instead of his favorite whiskey because he knows you love it. 

kento watches you put your lips on the champagne flute and drink your sweet alcohol with glee. he takes a small sip from his as he stares at you with admiration. 

satisfied with your drink, you set it aside on your coaster as you lean your head on kento's shoulders. "such a lovely day, isn't it?" you say while you close your eyes, soaking in the remaining rays of the sunshine before it sleeps, allowing the night to take over the sky.

kento hums in approval as he puts his free hand on your head, giving it gentle and loving pats as he rests his head against yours, but not before giving you a quick peck. "we should do this more often," 

"i agree; you should ditch gojo more and spend more time with me," you joked, and you heard your fiancée chuckle, "that wouldn't be so professional of me, darling," it's your turn to let out a chuckle.

"it's gojo; being professional is already out of the window." 

"you're right, maybe i should," kento jested back.

the two of you just sat in comfortable silence until a slightly strong gust of wind blew in your direction. caught by the shock of it all, you close your eyes and hold your sundress down to avoid flashing the strangers. but before you could even do it, a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.

kento had covered you, so any speck of dust blown by the wind wouldn't be able to get into your eyes. your sundress is also held down by his knees between your legs. when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by your fiancée's face close to yours, assessing you. you suddenly feel your stomach tumble and fill with butterflies.

"are you okay? didn't get anything in your eyes?" he says gently, eyes observing you with worry. you give him a slight nod, "mhm, i'm fine kento, how about you?" kento answered with a hum as he tried to fix your dress and some parts of the picnic blanket that was slightly blown away by the wind.

"i think that's the cue for us to pack up, or do you want to stay for a while?" kento asks you while he starts to pack up some of your stuff into the picnic bag. "we should stay until the sun completely sets, it's a shame to leave while the sky looks pretty." 

kento nods and finishes packing before he sits beside you, looking at the view. he then makes your head lean on his shoulders once again, his hands caressing the top of your head. "yeah, i agree, the sky looks pretty." he states.

he feels you nod and continues, "but you're prettier to look at," he says as he looks down at you and to his surprise, he meets your eyes on him. "i could say the same to you, kento," you say before capturing his lips against yours.

kento smiles on your lips before reciprocating your gesture, slightly tasting the remnants of your sweet champagne earlier. 

and at that moment, he thought, it doesn't matter if his tongue tasted something so sweet, as long as it's from your lips.

that time when you went christmas shopping

the mall filled with bustling crowds is not a perfect way to spend time with your fiancée. but when this is the only time your schedules align to go for a last-minute shopping to buy gifts for your loved ones, you don't really have a choice.

kento especially noticed how much you were on edge today despite being excited to buy gifts for everyone especially his mentees. you weren't the type to enjoy a busy crowd, so he knows how to elevate your stress.

store after store, he gave you every opinion he had (that you asked for) ever so gently and thoroughly but not too much to overwhelm you since you're technically a ticking time bomb now. kento was attentive at every store you went to and immediately picked out gifts you thought were best to give. he stood up in the busy and long line as he let you sit on the lounge chair present in the store. 

by the time you're done shopping, he carries all the bags and refuses to give you any (even the small ones). and when you insist, he gives you an offended look, telling you he can manage. 

while you're walking to leave the mall, your stares don't go unnoticed by your fiancée as he sees you mindlessly gawking at his arms that flex every time he has to fix the bags while walking. 

and that makes carrying your shopping bags even more worth it to him.

that time when you got drunk at a new year's party

gojo has set a new year's party that includes everyone in jujutsu tech in one of his vacation homes in japan. it was supposed to be a reasonably small party but this is gojo satoru we're talking about; he's going to be extra about anything and everything.

the party is semi-formal and requires everyone to dress up nicely. kento does not enjoy parties, but seeing you dress up in a pretty dress that enhances your assets makes him think that attending this event has benefits too.

the party wasn't uneventful per se, but despite the semi-formal wear that everyone was rocking, the event itself was casual. the house was filled with laughter and noise, mainly from the students and everyone else sharing stories and conversing. an hour or two into the party, you and kento decided to part ways as you go on your way to interact with gojo, geto, and shoko.

kento trusted you enough to be alone with them so he opted to talk with some of his colleagues whose presence calms him (obviously not gojo). he spent his time talking with higuruma, sharing ideals and mundane stuff they both enjoyed doing. it was a calming conversation for both men, who wanted peace and tranquility.

"there's this store that sells rare vintage vinyl; i think you'll love to shop there," higuruma suggests as they talk about collecting vinyl, a hobby they share. kento was about to reply, but even before he opened his mouth, he heard a very loud— 

"nanamin!" which made both men turn their heads in the direction where the sound came from.

the voice no doubt belonged to itadori, his face painted with concern as he rushed to kento's area. "what is it itadori?" he asked the young man the moment he arrived while panting.

"your wife! she's—" before itadori can even finish his sentence, kento's already sprinting to where you are, itadori following suit.

kento doesn't need to know what he needs to say; the worry on itadori's face, accompanied by your name, is enough for him to look for you.

turns out you're drunk of your mind. 

when kento arrives in gojo's kitchen, it's just you and him having a very drunk and heated argument about whether cereal or milk comes first.

"no! that's so stupid, cereal should come first, think about it you stupid idiot, if you pour milk first, you'll miss the chance to fill the bowl with so much cereal!" your fiancée sees you standing on gojo's kitchen island alongside him, slurring your words as you sway the glass of wine in the air, threateningly spilling as you keep on moving.

gojo scoffs at your argument, "maybe t'was the point! it's all about ratio, how else can you enjoy cereal when there's too much cereal and little room for milk!" he barks back, holding a—

is that a massive cup of sunrise tequila? no wonder he got so drunk, kento thought as he sighed.

"there's no such thing as ratio for you, gojo! you're the same person who adds too much pineapple on pizza that it becomes disgusting!" you shouted at gojo's face as you continuously pointed at his chest with your index finger.

across the kitchen island stood geto and shoko with unamused faces, looking like they were just waiting for everything to die down on its own. kento sighs and asks them, "did they have an alcohol-drinking battle again?" and all they reply is a solid nod.

"gojo got too competitive and drank that sweet poison, which led to this... argument," shoko adds, looking at both you and gojo incredulously. "they immediately started gulping down the alcoholic drinks right after midnight," geto said, a chuckle threatening to leave his lips.

"please help me break them up," your fiancée kindly pleads to geto and shoko. they immediately showed empathy to their former junior and decided to hold gojo back together while kento held onto you.

it took almost half an hour to break you and gojo apart, not to mention the commotion and your silly drunk discussions that blew out of proportion because the both of you are just so passionate and no one would back down without a fight. after successfully separating the two of you, kento immediately guided you away from the party and to your car, not without leaving shy goodbyes to the people he would face along the way.

the drive back home was thankfully not chaotic, but it was definitely filled with your drunken chatter as you slur words kento can barely make out.

getting you to your shared home was relatively easy; you were patient enough to let kento walk you off to the front door and remove your heels before gently placing you on the couch. 

he was about to let go and grab some water until you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to your face; kento felt his heart race. "hey there," you whispered against his lips, distance threateningly close.

kento could smell the alcohol on your breath, probably a mixture of beer, wine, and then some. still, he couldn't bring himself to care when he knew your lips would probably taste slightly sweet. "have you ever been this handsome, kento?" you ask, your voice dripping honey despite being out of your mind, trapped in your own drunken bubble.

"maybe that's just the alcohol's doing, darling," he jokes.

"no no, i think i already saw this face years ago."

"really?"

"really. you look even more handsome now, you should give me a kiss," you say as you pucker your lips, slowly leaning towards his.

kento couldn't even say no even if he didn't want to (not that he will ever not want to kiss you). he decides to give you a swift peck just to entertain your shenanigans, but when he is about to let go, you deepen your kiss, tightening your wrap on his neck, forcing him to lean forward and straddle you with one of his thighs digging on the couch.

he can taste the red wine you had recently drunk, and he's confident he can get drunk with your lips alone. kento's mind went hazy as he moved against your lips languidly, letting himself drown in your kiss. he wanted this to last longer, even take it further, but alas, kento has always been a man of self-control, so he lets go of you, not before giving you one last kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen.

the whole night, kento tends to your every need that you couldn't do. he had prepared you a warm bath, removed your makeup, and did your skincare for you that he knows at the back of his hand. he had lathered you up with your favorite lotion, dried your hair (not without a fight since your drunk self found the hair dryer too loud), and kissed you good night before tucking you to bed, leaving a pack of aspirin and a water bottle on your nightstand before sleeping.

the morning after, you woke up to the smell of your favorite soup and your fiancée insisting on feeding you even though you told him you could manage.

you make sure to pay him back really well that same day.

that time when you attended a family reunion 

it's always this dreaded day you always wanted to avoid but couldn't. 

you would rather stay home with kento rather than attend a gathering that will just piss you off, but your mom had pleaded with you to come— "so that they won't gossip about you," she said.

you know that's a lie; whether or not you attend, they'll always find a way to talk about you anyway; there's no winning. but since you wouldn't want to let your mother down, you suck it up and prepare for it regardless.

what makes you nervous is that this is the first time Kento has come along— or more like you let him come along. 

you had heard complaints from your relatives about not meeting kento when he was still your boyfriend, and now that you're engaged, you should've at least let them meet him. you begrudgingly agreed, but it doesn't mean you're not nervous.

your relatives have been annoying throughout your life, always meddling with things they shouldn't even care about. 

it always started with asking about your weight change, school activities, grades, chosen course, and relationships, not to mention the ever-so "you should do better" undertone in all aspects of your life. and for some reason, always making you feel small is included in their mandatory list to piss you off. 

you know that once you let them meet your now fiancée, they would bombard him with questions and annoy you and him for the rest of the day. you only keep up with the tradition because your mother is too kind to tell them off, laughing awkwardly when they berate you and always giving you a silent apology through her eyes.

it wasn't her fault; you just wish she'd shut them off.

kento had noticed your change of behavior ever since this morning while preparing in your home. you had been silent and spacing out, only replying when he had finally snapped you out of your daze. he doesn't know what the deal was with your relatives, but all he knows is that your mood drastically changes whenever they're involved in the conversation, and that's enough for him to tell you that they're not really good news.

"are you sure you want to go, honey? we can always drive back home," kento said with worry, cutting through the thick tension in the car. "it's fine; I can handle it; we're almost there anyway. it would be a waste if we turn around," you tell him with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Kento replied with a small smile, taking your hand to his face and kissing your knuckles, "just know that i'll always be there, alright?"

you nod, feeling slightly relieved, before looking out the window to drink in the scenery as you pass by. 

it turns out you can't handle it.

you thought your relatives would be a little tamer because you have someone over, but you were totally wrong.

ever since you both arrived, your aunties had surrounded kento and bombarded him with questions. from his age, degree, university he graduated from, where you met, wedding date, monthly income (which is incredibly embarrassing), to how many children he plans to have.

most of it wasn't a problem, but your blood boiled the moment they asked about what he saw from you.

this would've been such a sentimental moment if it weren't for your auntie's sarcastic tone, as if the question was meant to belittle you, to make you feel like you're not worthy of him.

when kento was about to open his mouth just to pour out how much he loves you and how he's lucky to have you, one of your aunties butt in with their loud mouth.

"well, she isn't really a traditional partner isn't she?" she said, a smug smile forming on her ugly and wrinkly face. "yeah, i mean, i assume with a fine man like you wouldn't be attracted to someone like her," another one added.

kento clenches his fists as he felt fury fire inside of him. how dare they think about you like this and talk about you like this, like you weren't just in front of him, seething in pain and anger.

he was about to give a proper and calm response when your uncle had spoken, "besides, she dresses like a... you know," then an ugly cackle. "a what?" your auntie had joined, taunting him to say the word.

"oh, you know, like a sl-"

that was the final nail in the coffin. his words are cut off when kento angrily smashes both palms on the table, seemingly angry, forming an angry red aura you have never seen. "i've had enough," he started, while all eyes are on him, including yours.

"i will not allow any single one of you to disrespect my wife any longer. i will not tolerate your old and immature ways of talking about her. i've been patient enough, but this bullshit is something I will not allow," kento's vulgar choice of words has made everyone's eyes at the table grow wide, shocked.

"i would say this respectfully, but you guys weren't to my wife either, so please, i'll say this once," he inhales, trying to calm himself down. 

"fuck off," kento declares before taking your hand and exiting the venue.

during the walk to the car, he had been slowly calming himself down. once you reach it, kento holds your face gently, "i'm sorry for the outburst there; i just couldn't stand them disrespecting you any longer, so I had to." he says before putting a gentle yet quite long kiss on your forehead.

once he lets go, he sees your face. your eyes had been filled with tears, and it broke his heart. "that's fine, i've been wanting to tell them to fuck off for years anyway. if anything, i should thank you," a smile spread through kento's face before opening the car door to let you in.

once the both of you are finally settled in your seat, you ask, "by the way, I just noticed you called me your wife; what was that all about?" you ask him out of curiosity. he knows you're happy about that based on how happy your voice sounded when you asked him.

"i'm just so sure you'll end up with that title anyway, unless you're having cold feet?"

"oh god, no! i'm just touched, 's all," you shrugged as you settled in your seat, a smile stretched across your face. 

kento chuckles and leans forward to kiss your cheek before starting the engine and driving off.

your mom visited you and kento later that week, saying she was happy she was finally not invited to the next reunion. she then made you your favorite dishes as an apology for that day.

you don't mind what gossip they would come up with next, not when you have the kind of man kento is. 

their little toxic gossip train had nothing compared to the love that kento gives you every single day anyway.

that time when you asked him to be rough

the night is still young and cold but kento does know how to make it hot.

his hands fumble the plush ass as you keep on taking his cock, sloppily riding him as you let your hips and thighs do the work. your cunt meticulously takes all of him, molding your walls just like it was made for him. "hah, faster darling, please," kento pleads, voice broken and desperate for release.

his calloused hands caress your body gently like you are someone sacred, a figure that shouldn't be harshly touched or you'll be condemned, the same hands that used to exorcise and kill curses without a single thought. and yet with you, he carefully carries them lightly, holding onto your waist, not too tight enough to leave you in pain. 

you feel your stomach tie into a knot, slowly feeling yourself come to a climax, "shit, kento, you're so big, mngh, make me feel so full," you say through gritted teeth, further speeding up your pace. the sound of your thighs slamming against his echoes through your bedroom, accompanied by your ragged breaths and kento's broken moans of pleasure.

your fiancée's hands then find their place back on your ass, squeezing it tight, but not too much, guiding you to bounce on his cock more as he feels himself closer. "s'good for me, yeah? taking me like a good girl?" kento looks at your eyes lovingly, his brown orbs touching your soul. you nod, not finding the words to say, mind too hazy to answer as you keep on taking his dick, taking him in like you always do.

"yes, oh god, yes, kento— please, inside— me," were the only words you managed to let out as your movements kept on getting sloppier and sloppier each moment passed by. he knew what it meant, and who he to deny such a polite request?

kento let himself release inside of you with a groan, making sure every drop of his cum is given to you. 

your pants envelope the room as you both try and catch your breaths— then a beat of silence.

you take kento's face in the palm of your hands and caress his cheek, "you know, i sometimes wish you could be rough," you say as you observe his sexed stupor, "i occasionally get rough on you, don't i?" he asks, eyebrows raised with confusion.

"no, like i mean, rough rough," you emphasize, "you're always so gentle. you don't think i can handle you?" faux sadness evident in your voice, one that your fiancée can never say no to, not when you're asking this nicely. "oh darling, i'm sorry, i will do it next time," he coos, fixing the loose strands on your hair by tucking them behind your ear.

"we can do it now?" you suggest, making the corner of kento's lips perk up, "oh? you sure you can handle it?"

"i know i can handle it," you say as your voice rang with confidence.

you knew kento had it in him to be rough, but good god, you never expected him to be this good. 

he had given you a more than good fucking, which leads you drooling on your sheets, with your back arched, ass up, and your hands held behind by kento as he drills his cock into your sopping cunt. his hands left prints on your ass and thighs, which left a delicious burn on your skin. "want to take my babies, don't you?" kento says as his hips meet your asscheeks.

"mnghh, yes, daddy! full— 'f your babies!" that was enough for him to unload himself inside of you, burying himself deeper to make sure you'll take all of it before he pulls out.

you were about to sit up, panting, when you felt kento's large hands wrap around your neck from behind, squeezing it while the other was pulling your hair.

"who said i was done with you, pretty?" the deep timbre of his voice went straight to your pussy.

this side of your fiancée is undoubtedly a pleasant surprise.

the following day, though, you were treated again like a queen, a bath ready for you by the time you woke up, surrounded with fresh flower petals that he had taken the time to buy from your nearest flower shop, and your favorite candle burning alongside your bath products. kento also insisted on giving you a full body massage to ease any tension and muscle ache.

you asked for it anyway, but you also don't mind this kind of treatment from him every now and then.

that time when you had a cold

you woke up feeling like absolute shit.

you don't know when or why it happened; it just did.

your head was throbbing the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at the sun rays that peeked through your windows. your body felt heavier than usual, and your shoulders felt sore. kento had taken notice of this as soon as he woke up, tending to your every need.

it pains your fiancée to see you in such a state, voice hoarse, your sniffles meet with a crumpled-up tissue near your nightstand, a mucus-filled cough every now and then, and an occasional "my throat hurts" whenever you speak. you had begged him to bring you some slightly cold water along with your food because lukewarm water doesn't hit just the same. but being the ever-responsible adult that kento is, he says no, leaving you sulking as you begrudgingly eat your food with a frown.

taking your medicine, though, is a different kind of task.

you stall every single time, finding it hard (or hating) to swallow the pills. even more so if he gave you water with a dissolved effervescent tablet, claiming it's too gross to drink, even if it doesn't really have any flavor. whenever you're sick, this is always the obstacle he has to face.

"please give me some juice or candy kento; it'll help when i drink the medicine," you begged, adding a touch of cooing pleases to make him say yes.

"i think the sweets you ate are what led you this way, darling," he says, which practically means no. 

a pattern he noticed is that whenever you eat too much salt or sweets without drinking the right amount of water, it always leads to you getting this sick. "it'll just be a little sip, please? baby?" you had finally hit a new low, busting out the occasional nickname when you need something from him.

"you're a big girl, honey; you can drink this. here, i'll cover your nose for you," at this point, you just let him do it; there's no way you'll be able to convince him. you reluctantly nod and decide to drink the medicine instead.

kento pinched the sides of your nose together, effectively covering the smell, or lack thereof (he doesn't even know why he covers your nose, he just knows you'll take it if you don't smell anything). your face scrunched as your tastebuds are met with an unfamiliar and unwelcome taste, but you drink it anyway, your throat desperately chugging it so you can be done with it right away.

once you felt that you had finally consumed all of the medicine, you immediately let go of kento's hold on your nose, quickly reaching out to the glass of lukewarm water on your nightstand. after you drink enough to allow the aftertaste of the medicine to go, you place it back and let yourself lie in bed.

"i'll prepare you dinner, and i'll be back, alright?" kento takes away your glasses and places them on the tray he had brought them with. he was about to leave the room when he felt you tugging on his shirt "hm? do you need something?"

you shake your head, "no, just... thank you," 

a small smile spread on his face, your fiancée takes his free hand on your head and gently ruffles your hair, "this is nothing to thank about darling, i'm just doing my job," he bends down and gingerly places a long kiss on your forehead, "i love you, get some rest." 

you nod, but not before giving him a small smile back.

that night after you had eaten your dinner and drank your medicine (albeit hesitantly), you spent the night with kento caging you in his firm, warm arms. 

you feel yourself get better by then.

that time when you got married

when you walked down the aisle, kento looked at you like you had hung the stars for him. his eyes sparkle as he sees you wearing the gown you've been working on for months; even kento himself can't believe he's seeing an angel.

is this what heaven is? is this a dream? are you even real? how lucky is he to be with someone like you?

kento always believed you're out of his league, someone out of reach, and like the stars from the sky, the only way to capture your beauty is through his eyes. but he couldn't believe that the universe was on his side, fate working its way to make him yours, and he happily obliged. 

cupid had shot him through the heart, and you stole it, and he can't even be mad at it. he'd happily give you all of him at the snap of your fingers. let himself be bare to you; let himself mesh with you. your soul, senses, beliefs, and love clouded onto him. 

he consumes every single aspect of you within him, lovers stitched together by fate that no one can even cut. 

kento sees himself becoming one with you, so he will never regret the time he got on his knees to present you with the prettiest ring he could ever find, but nothing can compare to the beauty you carry, not even this ring. 

when you accept him with a delighted "yes," kento swears he's the luckiest man alive ever, blessed by your whole being.

so when you finally reach his side, everyone becomes a blur, his eyes focused on you the whole time, soaking in your beauty; he can't believe this is the face he's going to see every morning for the rest of his life. 

"hey handsome, you look great," you say, holding kento's hand. "i could say the same to you, pretty," he replies, and he had to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

and comes with the exchange of vows; kento feels slightly nervous but proud because he gets to declare his love for you in front of the people you both cherish most.

he clears his throat before opening up the letter in his hands and looks at you with such love and contentment.

"to the person who helped me see love in your form,

you've always painted colors on my blank canvas, and i cannot thank you enough. you shed light when i'm in my darkest days, have been with me through my stormy nights, and share my gloomy days.

you have been the compass to my lost soul, guiding me to the destination i know as love. you give harmony to my life as your laughter always brings music to my ears; your voice reminds me that you're here with me. you had composed the greatest symphony that sang its way to my heart, making me bare my soul, something that i will never regret," kento pauses, his voice croaked, words stuck in his throat as he tries to stop his tears from spilling. he fails to hear the audience coo in awe, focusing on you.

he continues, "loving you became my eternal pursuit, my garden whose roots are planted deeper than the sea where my endearment continues to blossom. 

every step with you feels like a dance, one that i will not get tired of swaying my heart with. your hands had made a map of my body and soul, imprinted the images of love one couldn't see, and only i could feel.

and the only time i get to call something home, i stare into the deep abyss of your eyes and see myself tangled with you.

with you, i am willing to get even our souls intertwined, dancing through life as we face the uncertainty together, with love ink deep within my veins.

to my anchor, my only solace, the only anthem my heart will forever sing,

i hope the warmth of your arms will forever embrace me, even after death." the attempt to keep his tears falling fails, so does the audience, and so did you.

your eyes filled with tears, but one that's full of love. your heart feels so full that it's threatening to spill out of you. you love kento so much that it hurts; it aches to the core that someone could ever love you this much.

and you're forever thankful.

that day, your promises to each other are officially sealed with a kiss so intense and wedding bands that even evil couldn't break, that no trespassers shall get into and rip your bond away.

when kento's lips met yours, it was soft, it was warm, it was sweet, it was comforting. 

finally, your husband thinks.

that day sealed the chapter to your newfound forever.

another note: i'm not so proud of the vows i made but i hope it captured kento enough lol srry 😭

[jjkilll]

-—✫UNTIL THE END OF TIME | JJK✫—-

warning: this is completely fictional. this story details personal injuries infilicted upon a main charater. reader discretion is advised. please read all warnings before proceeding. 18+

— pairing | ex-fiancé/idol jungkook x y/n

— summary | six months after you two broke up, you realized life's too short to not hold each other until the end of time.

—  warning | personal injury (car accident), mentions of blood and surgery, a coma brought on by personal injury, mentions and the planning of marriage, pwp (big time), smut, reader giving jk a handjob, cum eating(?), spit(?), ass slapping (jk can't control himself)

— word count | 3.9K

— song | until the end of time - justin timberlake (this is gonna ruin the tour)

— a/n: flashback in bold, enjoy!!

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

your phone rings waking you quickly. you at up answering your phone. “i’m sorry to wake you, is this y/n l/n?” a man asks through the phone. “yes, is there something wrong?” you ask eyes barely open.

“unfortunately, yes. i’m dr. hill, your fiancée has been in an accident. will you come down and provide some extra information for me?” he asks sincerely.

“what?! is he okay? is he awake?” you sit up. “um, i think it’s best if i share this news in person.” your heart drops.

you stand quickly throwing on some clothes. “i’m coming. i’m on the way.”

you and jungkook had been broken up for six months. you broke off your engagement. he really didn’t want you to go.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you asked him to go with you to ask your friend to be in your wedding. you planned a lunch and jungkook never showed. you watched the clock tick and the time pass and nothing but radio silence. you tuck the handwritten letters back into your bag.

you got home and jungkook was passed out on the couch. you woke him, “hey go get in bed.” he stands barely awake, and walks into the bedroom flopping down onto your bed.

you walk past him into the bathroom. “where were you?” he mumbles. “lunch with my friends.” you say simply, taking the pins out of your hair.

“until 7 pm on a thursday? what for?” he asks. you sigh continuing to take your hair down from its high ponytail style. you don’t say anything until he groans lifting himself on the bed walking over to the bathroom door and standing in the frame. “what's wrong?” he asks you cluelessly which angers you. “nothing.” you say very monotone.

“you’re mad. why are you mad?” you don’t say anything and continue looking at yourself in the mirror. “i’m not.” you say simply. “ you aren’t even looking at me.” he grabs at your waist and you pull away. “stop.” you say moving away. “can you just tell me what’s wrong? i’m too tired for this shit.” he spits and that’s your final straw. you we so upset with him, that you didn't say anything at first trying to make sure you didn't say anything you didn't mean.

“today was the day we were supposed to ask my friends to be in the wedding and you didn’t even show. i sat there like a dumbass checking the clock hoping you’d show up. you didn’t. you didn’t even call. so yea, it’s very fucking clear that you’re too tired for this shit.” you motion back and forth between the two of you.

“you know damn well that’s not what i meant. i’m sorry babe, things just got so hectic today,” he explains.

“then a text would have eased my mind,” you spoke.

“i was busy, baby. what do you want me to say? you know what i do prepping for a comeback isn't easy.”

“whatever jungkook.” you dismiss him not trying to get more upset.

“did they all say yes?” he asked sitting on the edge of the tub. “i didn’t give them the letters.” you say simply. “why not?” he asks. “because i need more time.” he raises his brow. “for?” he presses.

“to think. see if this is something i even need to do.” you spit.

“what does that mean?” he asks standing up beside you. “jungkook, you haven’t put your input in. you haven’t seen the venue. you don’t care about the colors and you can’t even show up to a fucking lunch. yes, i know how hard it is to prep for a comeback, but planning a wedding by yourself is bullshit. we haven’t had sex in four weeks. you don’t want this relationship as bad as i do.” you explained.

“i want you more than anything.” he says. “then you’d make time! you'd act like it! i don’t ask for weekly dinners, and i don’t complain when you get home at 3 am and leave at 6 am. but, this is different. this is our marriage. i can’t help but think this is what our marriage will be. i’ll just keep waiting on you to find a balance for this shit, the whole world gets everything you got and i just get your last name. i sit at home and watch you create a life without me. that’s why i need to think jungkook.” you finally turn and look at him.

your eyes brimming with tears. “baby, i’ll figure it out i promise. it won’t be like this forever.” you shake your head as your tears fall. “you don’t know that. you know know your job is ever changing. i love you, i do, and i know how much your job means to you. i would never ask you to choose me over your job, but i make time for you even in my schedule. i’m a personal assistant for an idol. I’m gone just as much as you are.” you explain tears choking you up. he pulls you close and you sob in his arms. “what's wrong with me? why can't you make time for me?”

you take a deep breath, “i can’t do this anymore.” you realize he’s crying too. “don’t say that. please don’t say that.” he begs. “i’m sorry jungkook.” you back away from him. you hate how quick he is to let you go. you twist the beautiful ring jungkook gave you months ago, off your finger. you place the ring in his palm. “please,” he looks down at you. “i’m sorry.” you say walking back into your bedroom. you walk into your closet grab clothes and shove them into a duffle. “you don’t have to go tonight. just stay.” he pleads.

“i’m sorry, baby, please. please don't leave.” he cries. you move faster sobbing, you hated hearing him cry. your chest is heavy, as you cry so hard it’s hard to breathe. he walks into the closet and hugs you tight. “please don’t leave me. i don’t want to be alone tonight. please if you want to leave i have to be okay with letting you go, but i want you, i need you to know that I'm not giving up on us. just one more night. stay with me one more night, let me know you're not giving up on me.” you cry. you want to fall apart. “okay.” you say. he hugs you and doesn’t let go. he holds you so tight and so sure. his hands are shaking as he pulls you in. you get this feeling in your gut, you need space and so does he. one night only.

he finally lets go and holds your hand. you strip yourselves of your clothes and lay in bed holding each other, both of you praying this wasn’t the last time you'd hold each other so close.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you arrive at the hospital. “jeon jungkook.” you speak to the front desk clerk. “relationship?” she asks. “umm, he’s my-my fiance.” she types quickly as you flash your id. “room 613,” she says.

you speed to the elevator taking it up to the sixth four. you look around the floor and run up to the door. you look through the small cut-out of glass. he’s just lying there, an oxygen mask on his face. tears start to pour from your eyes.

“oh my god” you back up starting to panic. “ma’am?” a doctor calls. you turn. “i’m doctor hill. are you his fiancee?” you nod. “yes, please tell me what happened.” you beg. “unfortunately, he was on the expressway southbound, and it seems that he lost control of his motorcycle, he ran into the back of a semi. he’s helmet saved him from any brain damage, but he is having a hard time breathing on his own as he’s punctured his left lung. he hasn’t woken up since we put him under anesthesia, the surgery was a success.” he explains looking at the file in his hands.

“he’s in a coma?” you ask. he nods sincerely. “he is alive and stable, but we aren’t sure when he will come out the the coma, it could be days, maybe months.” you began to sob. “i’m so sorry.” your soul is fading, it was hard to believe. you walk back up to the glass. you stare at him and curse yourself for ever leaving his side. you open the door and walk up to him. you just look at him, and tears fall. he has a black eye and some stitches about his eyebrow.

“i’m so sorry, baby.” you sob quietly. you hold his hand and sob harder when he doesn’t do the double squeeze he’d usually do. you kiss his cheek. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll be right here i promise.” walk to the other side lay down your purse in the chair and push it to his bedside. you sit laying your head beside him. you gripped his hand and held it tightly.

you didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep until a nurse awakes you. “i’m sorry, here’s his belongings.” she hands you a clear bag with jungkook’s stuff inside. grab the back sitting up and opening it. his jacket was covered in blood, which made your eyes brim. his wallet you noticed something poking out of it. you pulled out a small polaroid of you and him on your first date. you wore disguises and went to six flags. you’d ask another couple to take the photo after you got off the batman ride. you smile reminiscing about how much fun you both had that day.

at the bottom of the bag is a chain with a ring on it, your ring. it was covered in blood as well. you sob, the nurse turns after checking on jungkook. “i’m so sorry ma’am. is there anything i can do for you. are you hungry? coffee?” you shake your head thanking her anyway before she leaves.

you undo the chain sliding your ring off. you hold it up walking over to the sink, washing and drying it, your tears still falling. you slide the ring onto your finger, holding it close to your chest. you walk over to your chair sitting and laying next to him again. “please wake up. please.” you beg.

you wish you never left his side. this was your fault, you thought to yourself. somehow, some way you had a feeling you could've stopped this.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

it had been three weeks since the accident. you were at the hospital every day since. you called your mom to pack a bag for you with everything you needed. your boss a friend of jungkook’s understood, telling you to take how long it took for jungkook to get better.

“good morning aundra.” you speak to the nurse you have grown closer with since being there. “morning darling!” she says cutely. “i’m happy to see you in a better mood today.” she speaks. “yea dr. hill says jungkook can breathe on his own. he’s getting stronger.” you explain. “i know. you’ve got a trooper on your hands for sure.” she smiles.

a few hours later you’re on facetime with the boys telling them how much jungkook has been progressing since they saw him the first time. they sigh a sigh of relief. “he’s so strong guy. we know he’ll be back and kicking as soon as he wakes up. you nod, telling them you were going to try to sleep before the next nurse came to check on him telling them you’d talk to them later.

you lay your head on his lap looking at him. “my pretty boy. you’re so strong. you know i never understood this part of you. you take on so much and come back so strong. you are otherworldly, baby.” you kiss his hand and stand going to nap on the bench across the room. you lay down slowly drifting to sleep.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you wake to some talking. “how long has she been here?” you hear a low familiar voice. “3 weeks. every day since the accident. this is the longest she’s slept.” you hear a female voice. you turn your eyes fluttering open. you see jungkook sitting up stuffing his mouth with food.

“jungkook!” you scream running over to him hugging him tightly and he groans. “oh im sorry! you’re just you’re awake. my god youre awake. i’m so fucking happy youre okay. jesus please you scared me half to death.” you hug him sobbing. he hold you tight. he swallows his mouthful of food. “hi baby, im sorry im just so hungry.” you giggle looking at him and pecking his lips.

“you were here this whole time?” he asks. you nod. “everyday, 24/7.” you smile. “thank you. i love you.” he looks at you pecking your lips again. he hold both your hands feeling your ring on your finger his eyes shoot down. “you put your ring back on?” you hum. “yeah… i did. i should’ve never taken it off.” he smiles.

“where were you even going?” you ask him, now you must know. he bites his sandwich and swallows before speaking, “your house. i had taken two weeks off of work, i wanted to show you i was serious. i talked to my manager, and he told me, that if i start doubling down every other day it’d speed things up for us, meaning more free time. more time for us.” you smile at him your eyes spilling with tears. he was on his way to you. you were happy he was thinking of you just as much as you were thinking of him. unfortunately, though you can't help but feel like this was your fault. you shake the thought as he grabs your hand, you interlock fingers.

“i love you so fucking much. so so fucking much jungkook.” he kisses your cheek. “i love you more baby.” he says biting his sandwich. “i heard hospital food sucks, and this could just be because i haven’t eaten in three weeks, but this sandwich is fucking amazing.” you giggle.

“oh i have to call the boys.” you speak wiping away your tears. “i talked to them earlier.” jungkook says. “how long have you been up?” you ask raising your brow. “45 minutes or so, i just didn't want to wake you. the nurse said you had barely been sleeping,” he said.

“duh! my fiancé was unconscious in a hospital bed. if someone sleeps peacefully during that, lock them up and throw away the key.” you state. he chuckles lightly.

“i like when you call me that. it feels good to hear that again.”

“what fiancé?” you ask. he nodded cutely.

“so what are the colors?” he asks all of a sudden. “colors of what?” you ask. “for the wedding. what were you thinking?” you smile and sit beside him. you quickly pull up your pinterest board showing him all your ideas. he didn’t show it but knowing you kept them, comforted him.

“white arch? it’ll clash with your dress.” he points out. “oh. oh my god, you're right! we could do green, maybe like ivy leaves?” you suggest. “i think that’ll be immaculate with my grey suit, too. yea, it’ll look amazing.” he adds.

“you already did so good without me baby.” he says. “but it’s clear that i need you. i would’ve been crying for days about that fucking arch.” he chuckles. “i’m still so stuck on flowers.” you pout. “well dr. hill says i have six weeks to recover before i can’t start schedules again. we have time.” he says. you kiss his cheek fluffing his hair.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

for the first time in six months, you walk into your shared apartment. your pictures still hanging on the wall, everything exactly where you left it.

you lay in bed next to him. he wraps his arm around you pulling you in. he kisses the top of your head. “the bed was so cold without you.” he whispers. “i’m never going anywhere ever again.” you peck his lips.

“i need you. i haven’t gotten a good rest in ages, my sleep paralysis started to act up again. just laying in the hospital room with you i slept more than i have in the last six months.” you say. “you just make me breathe better.” you express.

he pouts it hurts him to hear how badly you were struggling. “i was suffocating without you. i love my job but coming home to you made me feel like i won the lottery. i didn’t realize how much i had won until i lost it. i will not fuck it up this time. winning the lottery once is just luck, but twice is a sign.” you giggle rubbing your nose along his.

“i missed you so much, baby.” he says. “trust me i missed you more.” you reply. “impossible.” he whispers before kissing you deeply. you hum into the kiss, the way he kissed you makes your body tingle. you nervously bury your face into his chest. “you are so cute, why so shy? it’s just me.” he smiles. “you just got that effect on me. you make me feel like a teenager, kicking my feet and daydreaming and shit.” you mumble into his chest, he giggles brightly.

“kiss me again,” you say looking up at him. he obeys quickly kissing your lips. jungkook never found the idea of sucking someone’s tongue until he met you. the way you kiss him had a tent quickly growing in his pants.

he hums. “i’m so hard for you right now.” he states pecking your lips. you lightly push him away tutting. “no physical activity for you sir. dr. hill told me it’s imperative that don’t do anything that requires too much physical activity, for your lungs. so no sex right now.” you explain. “what?! come on. i haven’t felt you in months. now i have to wait even longer?” you nod and he groans throwing his head back in frustration. suddenly an idea pops into your head.

“what if…” he hums letting you know he's listening, “ i give you a handjob?” you whisper. “be serious, babe. don’t tease me.” he whines in his last sentence.

you giggle sliding your hands down his sweats. you stroke him slowly. you quickly look up at his licking your fingers before swirling them on his tip. “oh shit. that feels good.” you continue stroking him at a steady pace. “fuck” he mutters. “i wasn’t trying to cum this soon.” he chuckles nervously. “it’s okay baby. give me your cum. i want it so bad” you say teasingly.

he moans biting his lip. you stroke him faster, “just like like that, ohh shit.” you groan. you stroke him just how he likes. he kisses you deeply as you stroke him. “you are so fucking hot.” he whispers. you kiss him again lightly tugging on his bottom lip. “i’m cumming.” he mumbles moaning as he shoots his thick load onto your hand and in his pants. you slide your hand out covered in him. you look at him licking his cum off your knuckles. he looks at you in awe. “mm” you hum lightly flashing him a smile.

“i just want pick you up and fuck you.” you giggle at his bluntness. “jungkook.” you laugh. “what? the way you were just looking at me when you licked your fingers, you know if i was in full health right now i would be fucking you so good.” you smile pecking his slips. “one week.” you said simply. “that’s how long dr. hill said.” you explain. he looks at you, “you think it’s possible to sleep for a week?” you pinch his nose with your fingers. “yea you were sleep for three. no more sleeping for you sir.” he giggles.

“let’s shower.” you say patting his cheek. “oh definitely, you just made me cum in my pants.” he starts to move but you stop him.

“i’m sorry.” you say for the millionth time. “for what?” he questions. “for not believing in you when you said you'd figure it you. i should’ve,” you say simply. you hold back the tears that are making your throat close up.

“look, i know things were difficult, but i knew that night when you stayed, you weren’t giving up on me. on us,” he corrects. “ you stayed by my side for three weeks. you brushed my hair, you talked to me, you gave me a sponge bath. you always believed in me. this accident was not your fault, i need to understand that.” you pout your eyes threatening to spill.

“nuh-uh, no more tears. it’s only up from here, my love.” you hold his close. his thumb wipes away your tears that fall. “now let’s get in the shower.” he pats your butt before moving and standing up quickly. he groans leaning back onto the bed. “woah, take it easy, baby.” he huffs. “i’m not used to be this slow.” he chuckles.

“in all due time. trust me next week you’ll feel much better,” you explain. he nods as you help him stand. “i got you, babe.” he groans standing. you walk into the bathroom and he leans against the sink. you help him take off his shirt as his shoulder is in pain. “you’d look so hot in scrubs.” he says admiring you as you help him.

“oh hush.” you giggle. you help him take of his pants, his semi hard cock spring out. you look up at him. “what?” he whines. “you’re still hard?” you tease. “yes! i just thought about how you look naked.” he spoke. you laugh. you lift your shirt off and undo your bra and your tits bounce out.

“see? and you expect me not to be hard right now?” you giggle turning around and turning the shower on. “okay you first.” he steps in letting the hot water hit his skin. “hurry up.” he rushes you. “have some patience,” you say raising your brown jokingly. you slip off your shorts and step in. your back faces jungkook as you reach for your shampoo, and suddenly a slap hits your ass. you stand quickly. “jungkook.” you warn.

“what? come on. your ass was on full display, it was the urges inside me.” you chuckle. “that wasn’t me, i didn’t want to slap your ass, but the parasites in me wanted to slap your ass.” you laugh loudly. “shut up!” you chide jokingly.

you apply soap onto a washcloth, and start washing his chest. “i wanna get married tomorrow.” he says suddenly. “what?!” you almost yell. you look at him in disbelief. “i don’t even have a dress.” you explain. “then let’s go thrift one. i realized that life is too short, and in this lifetime i need you to be my wife.” you smile, but you don’t say anything. “what if… we get married tomorrow, and we still have a wedding. we can still do it big, when we actually get married it’s just us. me and you like i will be forever.” you suggest. you smile at him. “okay.” you say. “okay like you're just doing it for me or you love the idea?” you chuckle as you realize his small panic. “i love the idea. just me and you.” you say.

“forever,” he adds.

“and ever, until the end of time.” you grin, finally everything feels good. you stand in front of your soon-to-be husband, excited for what the future holds.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗬𝗼𝘂 (𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟭)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

After finishing a day of official duties, we finally had some time alone. While sipping tea before bed, Silvio brought up something interesting.

Silvio: "You know there's going to be a limited-time market in town soon, right?"

Emma: "Yes, that's the one you're organizing, isn't it?"

Silvio: "Yep. Normally, only shop owners and merchants can open stalls, but this time, I changed the rules so anyone can join."

Silvio: "Because of that, we got a crazy number of applications. Just sorting through them all might take me until evening."

As he let out a sigh, I felt a quiet excitement stir in my chest.

Emma: "Does that mean even amateurs can open a stall?"

Silvio: "Yeah. Some people are trying to start new businesses; others are just looking to get rid of junk from their homes."

Emma: "........."

Silvio: "Why are your eyes sparkling like that?"

(Duh? Because it sounds fun!)

(Besides, I've been waiting for a chance like this!)

I set down my cup and leaned in toward him.

Emma: "I want to open a stall too!"

Silvio: "That's so sudden. Don't tell me you're just saying that on a whim."

Emma: "Of course not! I've actually been interested in this for a while."

Silvio: "Interested in what, business?"

Emma: "Yes."

Emma: "And I've been wanting to try something new."

Emma: "Watching you jump into new ventures all the time made me want to start something of my own, too."

Silvio: "I see. In that case, I'll help you—"

Emma: "No! Can I try doing it on my own this time?"

Silvio: "What, are you saying you don't want me as your business partner?"

Emma: "That's not it! If I were gonna go into business with anyone, I'd trust you the most."

Silvio: "Then what's the problem?"

Emma: "It's not that I have a problem with you."

As he gave me a sharp, piercing look, I braced myself and finally said what I'd been thinking for a while.

Emma: "I just feel like if I keep relying on you, I'll never really grow."

Emma: "Ever since I came to Benitoite, I don't think I've done anything on my own."

Emma: "But if I can get experience doing something completely from start to finish by myself, I think I'll feel more confident—as your fiancée."

(Though that's not the only reason I want to try running a business. But I'll keep that to myself for now.)

Silvio: "............"

Silvio: "*sigh* that's so like you."

Silvio: "So basically, you want to handle everything—from sourcing your goods to setting up the stall—by yourself, huh?"

Emma: "Yeah. I know it's going to be tough, and there'll probably be things I'm not good at... but still, I want to try doing it myself this time."

As I waited nervously, Silvio finally broke the silence with a chuckle.

Silvio: "Jumping into business with zero experience and doing it alone is definitely reckless."

Silvio: "But telling you that is pointless, huh?"

Silvio: "Even if I tried to stop you, you wouldn't listen anyway. So fine, do it your way."

Silvio: "Whether you succeed or fail, there's no doubt it'll be a valuable experience."

Emma: "Thank you, Prince Silvio."

Silvio: "Even though it's open to the public, this is still a proper market."

Silvio: "If your business isn't up to standard, no one's going to stop by. Make sure you remember that."

Emma: "O-Okay."

Silvio: "Don't worry. If it all goes up in flames and you feel like crying, I'll be there to cheer you up."

Emma: "That's exactly why I'll make sure I'm prepared, so it doesn't come to that."

Emma: "I'll give it everything I've got and make sure I don't have any regrets!"

The next day

I headed to the courtyard and started planning for the upcoming market.

(They said I can open whatever stall I want, but what kind should I go with?)

(Since it's my first time running a business, maybe I should stick to something I already know.)

I closed my eyes and thought hard about it, but only one idea kept coming to mind.

Emma: "Books. I think that's the one."

Silvio: "A solid choice."

Emma: "Prince Silvio!?"

He placed his hand on my head and playfully ruffled my hair.

Silvio: "If you start thinking you've got all the time in the world and take it easy, that event's gonna sneak up on you real quick."

Silvio: "Once you've decided what you're going to sell, you should start looking for suppliers as soon as possible."

Emma: "You're right."

(In that case, it might be a good idea to head into town for some research. I could get ideas for my product lineup.)

Silvio: "Oh, and I almost forgot—I'm going to town tomorrow, and you're coming with me."

Emma: "Sure! Are we going shopping?"

Silvio: "Something like that."

(Silvio's going into town just to shop? That's pretty rare. I wonder what he's buying.)

(Still, the timing couldn't be better—I can do my market research while we're there.)

(..........)

Silvio: "What are you grinning about?"

Emma: "It's nothing."

(He says it's shopping, but maybe he's actually bringing me along to help with my research?)

(The way he invited me like that—it has to be his way of helping, right?)

Silvio: "I plan on dragging you all over the place tomorrow, so you'd better be ready."

Emma: "Okay! I'm looking forward to it!"

The next day—

We were walking through town for market research.

Just realizing he brought me here under the excuse of running his own errands made my heart flutter.

(It almost feels like we're on a date, but I need to stay focused!)

(Having an experienced merchant like him is a huge privilege for a beginner like me.)

As I pressed a hand to my cheek to stop myself from smiling too much, I heard him stifle a laugh beside me.

Silvio: "You're getting way too excited over a shopping trip."

(Ah…)

Right after he teased me, he suddenly took my hand.

Emma: "Prince Silvio?"

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Part 3

[syluss-karaoke-teacher]

Headcanons: which rings LADS men would use to propose 💍

Now, I'm a married woman, and I made it very clear I want a practical ring that doesn't cost a fortune and that I can wear daily. But that doesn't mean I can't use my own tastes to create silly little what-ifs for MC and her love interests in Love and Deepspace.

I found different types of rings for each of the current 4 LIs based on what we know of them and their relationship to MC. These are *not* based on the rings the player receives in-game for Affinity 100, as I haven't wanted to spoil myself, and because all of us have differing tastes anyway. 😊💕

Minor spoilers of some of their backgrounds/myths.

Note: photos of rings are obviously not mine but scoured from Google and used for silly entertainment purposes only.

Xavier

he can't help but think back to the jewelry the ladies of the court used to wear, and what was the acceptable standard for nobility to court their sweethearts with

isn't in a hurry to find the ring, so he takes his time going around different jewelry stores around Linkon city and beyond. He will know which ring is the one once he spots it... at least he thinks so.

The ring should be elegant with a bit of a futuristic flair: e.g moonstone instead of a diamond or stardust/meteorite embedded in the metal. To make it more special he would offer to supply the stardust himself, locating one that would have fallen around the time you two met.

In the end gets a bit too indecisive, goes a bit too much into his own head, and proposes without it. You don't even notice as the romantic proposal under the infinite stars of the Milky Way is enough to take your breath away. The next day he takes you to the jewelry shop where they have a few custom designs waiting for your pick.

Rafayel

Oh the fishie is designing the ring for you himself. He already knows some jewelers through his work and will only settle for the most talented one. He will agonize over the design, until on one of your romantic getaways inspiration strikes and he stays up all night, just about managing to hide the sketch from you before you wake up.

He is very aware of the importance of the ring in human mating rituals, and wants everyone to take notice of it once you start wearing it. Make no mistake, this is a one-of-a-kind art piece with nothing to match its beauty. Just like you.

Howeverrrr he does realize that carrying around a 30k+ ring isn't practical, so he would also get you a matching simpler band with a romantic engraving that you could wear daily.

A design resembling the beauty under the sea, to suit the Sea God's bride. He would go hunting for the suitable gems and/or pearls himself.

Zayne

Zayne is not one to make a big fuss about the proposal, even if he is inwardly maybe even more excited about it than you, and perhaps a bit terrified as well. He knows you don't like to wear anything too extravagant even on your days off, so he would go for more traditional ring.

He first starts paying special attention to your wardrobe and other jewelry to do the ground work. He would do googling in incognito mode to figure out if gold or platinum suits your skin tone better, and he would discreetly leaf through women's magazines in the hospital to see what is currently trending. Once decided he snags one of your rings with him to a jewelry store he trusts to have a good selection, so that the ring will fit properly on the first try.

Diamonds are a classic option, and with a gold or platinum band they go well with almost any outfit you might have. In the end the designs he is most drawn towards resemble flowers. And from a practical standpoint, a row of small diamonds fits under your leather gloves better than a big rock.

Zayne would also be the fiancé/husband to take it upon himself to clean both of your jewelry on a regular basis. Not that you can't do it by yourself, he just wants to look at it and reminisce about the memories linked to it.

Sylus

C'mon. This is a man who bedazzles your *gun* unprompted. It's a given that no expense is spared when getting you THE ring. However, just getting a big diamond is boring as all hell, and he knows that just a platinum ring with a big rock wouldn't be to your tastes either.

Instead of just dropping a million bucks to a famous jeweler, Sylus uses his vast network to find someone relatively unknown, but whose talents are unmatched. And almost as importantly, one who will never reveal the designs to another soul. Not only is it to secure the exclusivity, but also to protect the both of you.

As for the materials, he scours the ends of the earth for the rarest ones: volcanic ash, dinosaur bone, or unknown gemstones from the Deepspace. The process itself is exciting, especially when he gets you involved, relishing in the knowledge of you hunting for the materials for your own ring without realising it.

As much as he would like you to walk around dressed to the nines every day, showing off the ring he paid more than most people pay for a car for, he realises it's not only impractical, but also potentially dangerous if people in Linkon start to question where you got such a gift. So Sylus has a matching, simpler band made that you can wear every day, saving the grander ring for special occasions, and hanging around at his base.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - Week 15 - Soulmates

Happy Sunday, friends! This weekend we’ve got a list of a trope that never ever gets old--SOULMATES! 

The thing about Steve/Tony is they just ooze soulmatism, and one of my favorite things to read is how that manifests in a thousand ways. So here’s a short list of some of my favorites--what’s your favorite soulmate fic?? 

~

Slipping off the Page into Your Hands by Sineala

Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve's problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony's problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth.

Visible At last by AvocadoLove

Based in a world where everyone has a soulmate's name written on their arm -- but not visible to the world until they touch.

(Steve/Tony)

train wreck on the way to nowhere by SailorChibi

Pepper closes her eyes briefly. "Your sig, Tony. Have you looked at it in the past couple of days?"

"No, why would I?"

"I think you should."

His heart skips a beat and it has nothing to do with the arc reactor and everything to do with the look on her face, the way she's biting her lip. He remembers, then, that quiet morning in bed with Maria Stark when she told him how sigs could change, and he doesn't want to think about what that means. He can't think about it, not now when the clock is ticking down and he has about five minutes to haul ass downtown or Fury is going to follow through on his threat.

"I have to go," he says, avoiding her eyes, and leaves the room in a hurry.

In a world where your perfect match's signature is written on your wrist for all to see, sometimes change is even harder to accept.

Never Too Late for Love by Sineala

Steve has always believed that a soulbond is a blessing -- a rare and beautiful miracle, joining the thoughts and feelings of two people forever, from the first time they touch. Steve knows he's not going to be one of the lucky ones. He knows Gail isn't his soulmate. But he loves her, even if they're not soulmates, and he's going to do right by her. After the war's over, he's going to marry her, and they're going to settle down. They'll buy a house. They'll have children. He'll see his family again. Maybe Bucky will live next door. It's going to be a good life. He doesn't need a soulbond. He'll be fine without one.

Then Steve wakes up sixty years in the future to find that his wonderful life has moved on without him. His family is long dead. His fiancée married his best friend. And the only purpose he has left is leading the Ultimates, a misbegotten team of superheroes with flaws too numerous to count. Steve hates everything about the future -- but most of all he detests Tony, flashy and flirtatious, who embodies everything Steve hates about a world he never wanted to live in.

And, oh, yeah, Steve has a soulmate after all: Tony fucking Stark.

1-900-SOULMATE by SailorChibi

Later, Tony would maintain that it wasn’t his fault. He was drunk and bored (lonely) and it just… happened.

Pepper would look at him and, in the driest tone that Tony had ever heard, remark that he was the only person in the history of the world who would stumble across their soulmate while drunk dialing a phone sex line.

Greyscale by FestiveFerret

"Did you tell him you were holding out for your soulmate?" Sharon smiled in that mildly condescending way most people did when Steve admitted that he didn't date because he was waiting for that one special someone.

It was old-fashioned, he knew, not to play around casually while you were still greyscale, but Steve wasn't interested in casual. He wanted that swoop in his stomach, and he wanted the world to explode into colours, and he wanted that to be his first and only relationship.

I'll Be (Good To You) by ishipallthings 

Steve Rogers wakes up seventy years out of time to a new world and a soulmate. It’s an adjustment.

What he doesn’t expect is Tony Stark, a brilliant futurist who is equal parts fascinating and frustrating, and has just as many demons as Steve. He also doesn’t expect to find a family with a ragtag team of superheroes, or to fall in love.

Luckily, Steve is nothing if not adaptable.

[moonmeg]

We know Neil proposed to Breena. But what about the other Bower siblings? Like did Blair propose to Lianna or Lianna to Bair, Ian to Val or Val to Ian and so on? And how did it go for all of them?

Blianna

Blair and Lianna secretly meet behind Lianna's house. They're talking, holding hands and kissing quietly and are broken up when the voice of Lianna's mother Cyrilla draws closer.

Cyrilla: Lianna? Lianna, darli- Good gracious Titan! What are you doing with that Bower brood!

Blair: I have a name.

Cyrilla: I don't care for your name! Get your filthy hands off my daughter! Lianna, what is this? I thought we agreed you wouldn't see her again!

Lianna: No, that's what you agreed on over my head! I love Blair and I wish to be with her.

Cyrilla: Love? What do you know of love!? You cannot love her! Look at you, Lianna, you are a delicate, beautiful flower and this filth - this farm rat! - she-she is not good for you!

Blair: Excuse y-

Lianna: Don't you dare speak of Blair like that! I forbid it!

Cyrilla: You do not get to forbid or permit anything.

Lianna: Yes I do! I will not stand by and let you abuse my fiancée.

Cyrilla: Fiancée?!

Blair: Fiancée??

Cyrilla: You mean to tell me you're engaged to her? Don't be ridiculous.

Lianna: Then watch me be ridiculous. Blair, my love, my life, I know this is not the proposal you deserve and it is very out of the blue but I wanted to ask you this today anyways. Will you marry me?

Blair: A-are ye serious??

Lianna: Dead serious. I may not know everything, and perhaps I also don't know what love really is, but I know that I want to spend my life with you. I will marry you, if you'll have me.

Blair: Of course! Yes! Yes! Yes, I will!

Cyrilla: ENOUGH! I do not approve of my only daughter to marry someone so undeserving of her! I will not let you choose a Bower over your own family!

Lianna: I wouldn't have to choose if you weren't so stubborn and narrow-minded! Blair may not be the ideal match you imagined for me but she brings me something of much more value than riches: Happiness and carefreeness. I don't care what you think of Blair, I care even less about what you think of me and I demand you to stop your abuse towards Blair. Dislike her all you want but you will respect her. Blair and the Bowers are my family. Whether or not you are, is up to you.

Cyrilla: You will not marry her!

Lianna: I do not need your permission. You have the opportunity to be part of our wedding and our life or not. I will marry Blair with or without you. And if we have to elope, then we'll do just that.

Cyrilla: This isn't settled yet, young lady. (Leaves angrily)

Blair: Ye alright?

Lianna: Are you? I'm so sorry for her tone.

Blair: Lia, I just got engaged. I'm the happiest lass alive.

Lianna: Sorry it wasn't very romantic.

Blair: Screw romance, we're engaged!!

(Deep kiss)

Keilo/Mith

Milo: Keke, can you give me feedback on this tune?

Keith: I told ye to not call me "Keke". Only ma siblings call me that. Sounds weird comin' from ye.

Milo: "Keith" is too formal.

Keith: Ye've used pet names on me before. Stick to those.

Milo: Alright, you grump.

(Keith eyes Milo. He hums the tune written on the paper)

Keith: Mo oran (= my song), I dinna mean to sound rude but that doesna sound... pleasing to the ear. It's all over the place. Is this some jest?

Milo: Hm? No, no.

Keith: Am I readin' it upside down or something? (turns paper)

Milo: You're reading it correctly (turns paper back). How about you actually look at more than just the first line.

(Keith stares the paper down only noting that the melody is not very pretty. Until he starts seeing a letter in the notes. He rereads everything, this time only looking at the letters the notes form)

Keith: Milo, what did ye do here??

Milo (smirking): Read.

Keith: W I L L Y O V ... N? A-K?

Milo: Maybe try tracing it with a pen.

Keith: Will... you... marry- Marry???

Milo: You didn't finish the question.

Keith: Will you marry me? Milo!

Milo (taking Keith's hand): Will you?

Keith: Ye're so... dumb! And so adorable! I love ye so much.

Milo: Is that a "yes"?

Keith: Is that even a question?

Milo: You're not being very direct with me, I just-

Keith: It's an "obviously I will"!

Lewisie

Lewis: Maisie, you're the love of my life. I can't-

Maisie: Aw, Lew, ye're mine too.

Lewis: (clears throat) I can't imagine a future without you and I-

Maisie: I canna imagine one wi'out ye either!

Lewis: Maisie, darling, could you... could you let me finish?

Maisie: Oh, sorry. Go on.

Lewis: As I said, you're the love of my life and I can't imagine a future without you. I wish to share my life with you, I hope to grow old with you and to love you forever. You're the most important person in my life. You've taught me so much and I'm grateful for every day I get to spend close to you. I truly feel like the luckiest man alive. And I'd definitely be the happiest if you'd give me the honor and-

Maisie: Will ye marry me?

Lewis: ... You stole my question.

Maisie: Sorry. I got too excited and wasna sure how much longer yer speech would go.

Lewis: I was almost done.

Maisie: I'm so sorry! Ye wanna ask the question? Go on! I'll be quiet.

Lewis: It's not the same now...

Maisie: No! No, no, it's alright. I ken nothing! Ask the question just the way ye planned!

Lewis: Maisie...

Maisie: ASK, YE DUNCE!

Lewis: A-as I was saying before, I feel like the luckiest man alive and... Maisie Bower, will you give me the honor and become my wife?

Maisie: Aye! Yes! I will!

IanVal

Val: Wanna hear a secret?

Ian: What secret?

Val: I did not meet a single goal I ever set for my life.

Ian: Really?

Val: Yep. As a kid I had all these plans, every single year of my adulthood mapped out. When I'd fo what, when I'd be in a relationship with whom and where I will live, what my house will look like, what I myself will look like. I had this idea of a perfect love story. I'd meet "the one" in my early twenties, be in a relationship for 5 years and then I'd be asked to marry them. There'd be this beautiful wedding and we'd live happily ever after. (Scoff) You must think that's so stupid.

Ian: Stupid? For wanting to be loved? For wanting to be chosen? If that makes someone stupid, I'm the greatest fool of them all.

Val: Two fools make one genius, I heard. (nudges Ian)

Ian: (chuckles) Are ye upset about not having lived up to yer own expectations?

Val: I used to. But I learned that life is something you can't and shouldn't plan. Not every aspect at least. And that every door that closes and upsets you at first, opens a new one that is perhaps meant for you more than the previous one. I was so stressed trying to catch a goal that was never fit for me. I was disappointed when I gave my goals up at first, but now... I feel free. I realize I'm happier this way. I'm glad I had those goals but I'm not sad for not having met them. If I had, I probably wouldn't have met you.

Ian: (scoff) And I'm worth it all?

Val: Of course.

Ian: Val, I'm glad we met too and I love ye too but please dinna act like being wi' me now was worth all the disappointments ye lived through.

Val: Act? I haven't acted since my performance days. I'm the most genuine right now. I know you struggle believing you're that important to someone, but my life is so much brighter with you in it, Ian, and if I had to go through everything again, knowing at the end the road will lead to you, I'll choose to go through everything once again in an instant. Without any regrets and any doubts.

Ian: W-why?!

Val: Because you're my "the one".

Ian: Ye canna know that. There's so many people on the Isles and-

Val: I've met many of them. But for no one did my heart ever beat as loudly as for you. For no one did I ever get up way before I usually would, just to see you for more hours of the day. For no one did I ever crave to spend my life with. For no one did I ever feel as strongly as for you. You don't need to know every person in the world to know when someone's special to you. To know there's an undeniable connection between you and them. To know you love them.

Ian: I-

Val: I want to marry you.

Ian: What?!

Val: (panicking) What?! Uh-erm-n-nothing! Nothing! I said- uhm- I said I want to-

Ian: Marry me...

Val: You misheard! I said be merry with you!

Ian: Val.

Val: Sorry. I'm sorry, I-I know that's not- ... I know you said you gave up on weddings and happily ever afters. It slipped my tongue, I-

Ian: Ye mean it?

Val: Do I mean it? Ian, Titan's sake, I've been dreaming of marrying you some day for years! Do you have any idea how lovesick you make me? How much I've shaped my future to have you in it no matter what happens? Do you have the slightest imagination of how much space you take up in my mind and heart? Do you know how obsessed I am with your everything? Did I not make it obvious enough? Yes. Yes, I mean it.

(Ian kisses Val tenderly)

Ian: I do too.

Val: I thought you gave up on that sorta stuff?

Ian: That was before I met ye. Marry me, Val.

Val: I will. With greatest joy, I always will.

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Pope telling Benny you've gone missing while on a stakeout

"Come on man, why all the cloak and dagger?" Benny jibed, "you're going to have to tell us why we're here anyway. Why did we have to follow some ridiculous instructions to get here."

"'cause we're all probably being watched, I couldn't risk anything else going wrong with this mission."

"What do you mean?" Frankie questioned. The atmosphere suddenly got very thick and uneasy.

"I um, so-" Santiago paused, unsure of how to start.

"Spit it out Pope." Tom jumped in.

"Okay, so you know I mentioned the set timings they brought people in, under the cover of night so they had more privacy?" the silence continued, "so with them knowing who I am. I needed to bring in a face they wouldn't bat an eyelid at..."

All four men wore heavy set expressions, cogs turning in their minds at where Santiago was going with this. Benny shared a look with his brother. Not liking where this was going.

"So I called in some help. Just know I didn't force this okay. I asked for a favour."

"Christ man. Spit it out." Will snapped. Not liking how sheepish Santiago was acting.

"It's Y/N. Okay she was doing some night recon for me and two days ago she went radio silent. And we had a strict agreement to check in once every 24 hours. So I knew she was okay." Santiago blurted out.

"Are you fucking kidding?" Benny asked, not sure how to take the news.

"I can't tell you how much I wish I was Ben. I'm sorry."

All five men had a soft spot for you. Having known you for a number of years. Friendships had developed across continents with them. They all cared about your safety as they did each other. Spending time both on the battlefield and at home. You'd even moved cities to be closer to the group. Since then spending a huge chunk of your time with the Miller brothers. Well. One to be particular. Benny and you had a different kind of relationship. One that had never progressed from the gooey eyed longing looks at one another from across the pool table. Among every other place you guys hung out. You supported him ringside at every match. Cheering him on and giving him the push to fight just that little bit harder. Earning you the title of good luck charm after Bennys fourth win in a row once you started coming along.

Saying that you had a special place with all of the guys. You were a constant with Frankies family. Supporting his wife while Frankie had his drug charges cleared up.

You even introduced Will to his fiancée.

Tom had listened to your advice on how he would be able to start repairing his relationship with his daughter. Resulting in them going on their first dad-daughter camping weekend.

Pope had always been a bit of an enigma with the group. But you too had a special place with him. You helped him hash out many a crazy idea. Toning them down when he got too into the idea of taking down huge conglomerates widely known to be untouchable.

"Fuck. Where was she last supposed to reach you?" Benny asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"She always called my phone from a payphone just outside the market. At two o'clock. But that last two days I've heard nothing."

"Where was she staying?"

"At a hotel on the outskirts of town, room 203. Self catering kind of deal."

"Right, Fish and Will. Go to that payphone and see if there's any sign there. I'm going to stay put see if she turns up here. Benny-"

"Go to the hotel. Got it."

The boys sprung into motion. Grabbing what they needed and heading for the truck they arrived in.

"Benny, I'll drop you off at the hotel." Santiago offered, earning a nod from Ben.

He followed closely behind Santiago. Still on the fence about whether he should give him an earful in the car of the way.

"She better be alright."

"I know. You're gonna kick my ass if she isn't."

"Damn right. But I know you didn't do this on purpose."

The ride was pretty quiet from then on. Both men itching to get to the hotel to confirm their hopes.

Benny couldn't help but scan everyone's face as they passed. Hoping she would just appear on a street corner unharmed.

Pulling up in the car park to the hotel. Benny was out the door even before Santiago could turn off the engine. Scanning the room numbers he headed for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he followed the descending numbers. 213, 212, 211... Round the corner to the side of the block. He continued, 206, 205, 204... Pausing as he locked eyes on 203. Bracing himself for the worst he reached to twist the door handle, light pressure made the already opened door swing fully open.

Letting out a quiet whistle. Signalling to Santiago, Benny reached for the pistol he had stashed in the back of his trousers. With the curtains pulled the room was dim, when he didn't immediately spot you his guard remained on high alert. The room didn't look trashed. But it didn't exactly look neat and tidy. There was some semblance of disarray.

Benny recognised your belongings though. The notebook you always scribbled in. The snacks you never went anywhere without. He even recognised one of his boxing sweatshirts in the messy bed.

Relaxing his stance, Santiago took over scanning the rest of the room. Benny looked through the ripped up paperwork on the bed, seeing you'd made notes about the targets for him. Santi headed for the bathroom, to cover all bases.

"Benny get in here now!" Santiagos voice jolted Benny out of his thoughts.

Preparing himself to see something he didn't want to, he practically ran into the bathroom. Almost tripping over a crouching Santi. Who was hovering over your unconscious figure slumped in between the wall and the toilet bowl.

[rad-roche]

hi! i love love love the way you write nick valentine so much!! if it's alright to ask, are there certain things you keep in mind when you're writing his character?

you just write him so accurately and so well, and i've been trying to nail down his flaws and motivations and how he sees the world and have been having some trouble writing him for some reason, and wanted to know if you had any tips! thank you so much— i love your comics and your fic!! ♡♡♡

thank you very much!! and sure, it's no problem :} throwing in the caveat that this is just how i do it, and i'm no authority or anything. i just do fan stuff on the internet, and there are as many ways to write something, or somebody, as there are people to do it

out the gate i have good news and bad news. the bad news is 'oh god, is this in character?' never goes away. i get it all the time! i've never not had it!

the good news is, thinking about that means you're more likely to be perceptive about what does or doesn't feel 'right'. with that in mind, always reference your source material first and foremost. skim through quest compilations, dialogue. notice what words crop up a lot, stuff like 'oughta' and colourful turns of phrase like 'the biggest chip in the pile'. you have a lot of leeway with him since he's such a throwback to a certain kind of character, so while you don't have to do what i did and go full-throttle genre pastiche, reading a couple of old detective novels won't steer you wrong vis a vis his voicing. if you just want to write nick and don't have a wider interest in the genre, any lew archer novel is a really good look at how to do it. same big, bleeding heart, same propensity to have an awful time

as for character, flaws, motivations, it's kind of a hard thing to pin down because, by merit of wanting to write something, you want to bring your own spin to it, right? you can make some pretty sweeping changes and get away with it! the only romantic interest nick expresses in the game is flirting with irma and lamenting somebody else's dead fianceé. the thing i did with him and gloria is wildly different

my big thing going into it was, since dmt/dww is third person limited, i could really play up his flaws. so from there, i could extrapolate. i think part of what makes something feel 'in character' is adding two pre-existing points together and making something new from those. stuff that isn't out of nowhere, just a couple of steps along the road. just some examples from mine:

he's a detective, so he's a good logical thinker, but he's a freak occurrence he can't untangle = he overthinks simple things, especially in regard to himself and his happiness. it's left him both selfless/deeply empathetic and a little pre-occupied with himself and his circumstances

he loves the work he does and is willing to let late payments go = the business is running at a loss, and he only operates on the fact that everybody in town owes him a favour

the original nick was sent to a trauma treatment program after the preventable death of his fiancée + he frequently makes jokes at his own expense that he clearly means/is willing to put himself in harm's way frequently = nick, down to his bones, is clinically depressed, the severity of which varies from month to month

and so on and so forth. how 'in character' this is going to vary from person to person, rightly, but i think the method is sound even if you disagree with the conclusions. people are pretty complicated and contradictory, so you can lean into that. i hope absolutely any of that made sense lol

[ozwriterchick]

Back to Us - Chapter 8

Summary: Y/n wakes after an accident to her Avengers team-mates. But something isn't quite right and only Steve and Tony can see it.

Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanoff; Other Avengers Characters

Content warnings: Mentions of an accident (no details yet); If I missed any, let me know

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Not beta'd so any mistakes are my own. I don't write smut, but there are allusions to smut in my stories.

Back to Us Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 1201 (approx.)

GIF by dazedandkaitfused

Another month passes by with the Avengers going on more missions.  Some with you, some without you.

Steve walked into the lab to talk to Bruce and was surprised to see you there.

“Y/n” he exclaimed. “It’s good to see you, does this mean you have your full memory back?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, or maybe not, but I’m no further along in my memory recall than I was at the Romania mission.  I decided to come back to see if Bruce can help with the Flashback program he created.”

“Sure” Bruce responded.  “It’s still experimental so I can’t guarantee anything, but we can try for sure”

Bucky walked into the lab at that moment.  “Hey Y/n, what’s shaking.”

“Hey Buck, I’ve missed you” you say to him with a huge smile. “Fancy going drinking tonight?”

Steve frowns at the 2 of you.  “Oh can it Captain.  Why don’t you go back to your fiancé, or did she find out about you and dump your sorry ass already?”

Steve walked out of the room, shaking his head and headed to the gym to vent some frustration on the poor punching bags.  Tony was sure he’d be forking out for some new ones in the not too distant future.

Bucky looked at you. “That was a bit harsh Sweets.”

“No lectures Barnes” you said.  “Just drinking, before I start this flashback program with Bruce tomorrow.”

Later that night, Bucky takes you to the local bar on his bike.  You love the freeing feeling of the wind in your face, your arms wrapped around Bucky’s abs, even though there was no romantic spark between you.  A few of the others joined in on the party, happy to have you back and wanting to celebrate.

“Cap not joining us?” you question nobody in particular. “Typical..”

“Sweets.  Harsh” Bucky reiterated his comment from earlier.

“I don’t get why you’re jumping to his defence so much, Buck.  I mean I know he’s your friend and all, but you know what he did.”

“All I’m saying is there is more to the story than you know Y/n.  So just be careful what you say without all the facts.  You wouldn’t want to say something that you can’t take back.”

You blow him a raspberry. “Whatever, come dance with me Barnes.”

You and Bucky are having fun on the dance floor, dancing and singing along to the songs when Steve walks in.

“Hey Steve, How’s Noah?” Nat enquires of him.

“He’s doing as well as can be expected, missing Y/n of course.  He’s with Pepper, so I know he’s safe but I wish things were back to normal already.  What’s going on there” he asks, pointing to Bucky and Y/n.

“Nothing serious, she’s just blowing off some steam” Nat tells him.  “You know Buck would never.”

“I’m done with this” Steve declares.  “If things don’t move along with this flashback program Bruce is going to try, I’m either just going to tell her, or I’m leaving and moving on with mine and Noah’s lives.”

“Well that’s a bit dramatic, but whatever you think is fair Cap.” Nat replied.

NEXT DAY IN THE LAB

You’re laying on a bed, all wired up and ready to go.  Bruce starts the program, which basically sends you to sleep, allowing you to access memories that your brain is subconsciously stopping you from remembering.

You see more missions and they all make sense.  Some are successful, some not so much.

You wake, realising you’ve been “under” for about 3 hours.

“How was that kid?” Tony asked genuinely curious as this was the first time they’d put Bruce’s theories to a physical test.

“Meh, I saw a heap of missions, some went well, some didn’t.  Nothing earth-shattering.  Is that all my life has been the last 4 years?” you asked sounding a little disheartened with the fact that there’d been nothing other than the missions coming through.

Your brain was struggling to reconcile that you’d had no significant relationships or even good hook-ups to remember this whole time.

Tony looked apprehensive, in truth, he was weighing up in his mind how much to tell you. “Well, no it isn’t, but you got a heap of memories back today, so we should try again tomorrow, see what more comes back.”

“Ok. Yeah, I am super tired after that so I think I���m going to go rest for a while.  I’ll see you for dinner later tonight” you responded.

You get back to your room, turn on the shower and jump in.  You always felt soothed in your muscles and soul when you’re under the running water.

You’re glad to be getting your memories back but you still feel like there’s so much missing. 

You’re startled as you hear a cough at the bathroom door, turning to see Steve standing there, leaning against the door frame.

“Rogers, you can’t be in here, we are not picking up where we were when I left.  You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“I’m sure I’ve seen it all before, but ok, I’ll wait in here for you.”  He said, moving into the bedroom.

You yell after him “No, you’ll leave, I’m not doing this with you Rogers.  Seriously, have some respect for me if you don’t have any for anyone else, even yourself.”

You take your time, going through your skincare routine and a few other things that were unnecessary.  If he is waiting in the bedroom for you, you’re going to make him sweat, or get fed up and leave.

You wrap your hair and put a towel around your body and saunter into the bedroom.

You see that Steve is lying on the bed, eyes closed.  Thankful that he seems to be asleep, you start getting dressed. 

“Well, isn’t that a great view to open your eyes to”

You shriek and grab the towel covering yourself.  “Geez Rogers, you about gave me a heart attack.  I thought I told you to leave.”

“Sweetheart, I just want to talk to you.  That’s all I’ve wanted this whole time.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, Captain.  Save that for your fiancé, if she’ll even talk to you after I work out who she is and let her know what you’ve been doing.”

“Dammit Y/n, just give me a chance.  Sometimes things have simple explanations.”

“Listen Steve, I’ve already told you, no explanation can fix the fact that you cheated on your fiancé with me, when I had no idea.  You took advantage of my lack of memory for your own gain.  One day I might forgive you but I don’t think I can ever forget it.  I just hope you’ve come clean with her.”

Steve sighed “Honestly, I haven’t, I keep trying, but each time she shuts me down.”

Steve gets up off the bed, kisses you on the forehead and says “Just know that when you’re ready for the truth, I’ll be here” and with that, he leaves the room.

You thought you’d got him out of your system but that kiss left you a bit flustered.  You sat there for a while wondering what he meant and what truth he could possible tell you that would change anything.

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion @vioplay19 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @crazyunsexycool @zaraomarrogers @bitchy-bi-trash @mrsnikstan @harrysnovia

[sinnerdolly]

The chosen bride — Viking!Barou Shouei.

Minors do not interact. Nsfw/Smut.

word counter—2381.

Plot—you're a French noblewoman that was forced to marry the barbarian king Barou. He seems to look at you like the most delicious peace of meat, would you fall for that abrasive sexual tension you both have?

warning— rough sex, oral sex, breeding kink, arranged marriage. Y/n's is short and has huge boobs.

English isn't my mother language, if you see any error you're welcome to correct me.

Since I was little, my father repeated over and over again in my ears: "You can't imagine the future I chose for you". Of course, until I was twenty-two I had nothing left to do but fantasize about the meaning of it, because he claimed that he didn't want to make my sisters jealous.

I was immensely disappointed when I found out the truth: here I was engaged to a barbarian king who examined me as if I were an insect. His smug gaze fell on my breasts and then on my hips.

“I’ll keep her” Just like that King Barou sentenced my destiny to be his wife.

The nobles around him seemed not to like the idea very much, one of them dared to speak and told him something in Nordic, a language that Chigiri not long ago began to teach me.

“Her hips are thick, her breasts are huge, and her skin is pink. Lady D'angelo seems much more fertile than all our women, whoever challenges me again will clean their own blood from the stone under my feet.”

Chigiri and I exchanged glances, the comment would have been about my uneven appearance compared to the Viking women. I was not tall and slender, my height was no more than five feet six and my dresses had to be custom-made because my breasts did not fit into any corset, something that my future husband seemed to enjoy.

King Barou was immense, with pronounced features and black hair that fell straight and long almost to his shoulders. The way he sat was menacing: legs spread, back leaning on the wooden throne… the aura around him conveyed danger, while every word that came out of his mouth was equivalent to the roar of a lion. In my years as a noblewoman, being the daughter of the advisor to the king of France, I had never witnessed anything like this. What lay before me was not a king, but a beast.

The beast's eyes sharpened on Chigiri as soon as he caught our exchange of glances.

“Who is that?”

All eyes turned to Chigiri, my father cleared his throat softly and answered: “He is my daughter's mentor, he will stay by her side to teach her to speak your language, my lord.”

My heart seemed to skip a beat when I saw that Barou didn't take his eyes off him.

“I'm going to be the one who teaches her, I want him outside my kingdom.”

Chigiri did not give me a single look, I knew what was going on in his head, just one look could confirm Barou's suspicions. The man I am in love with did not speak to me again... not even when he left in the carriage with my father, not even knowing that we would never see each other again.

[ … ]

The days in my new home were a torment, only the court and my fiancé speak my language, but they are not very pleasant people to talk to. So the days are summarized in reading and rereading the ten books that I managed to bring with me. The rooms that correspond to me are immense and opulent considering how rustic this country is, it is clear that they tried to make it as similar as possible to France, a cute detail if they wouldn’t constantly ignore me.

My loneliness and smallness allowed me to sneak far to inspect the castle. I was like a weirdo in their eyes, I have the feeling that they see me as a rabbit, the ladies look at me with disdain, incredulous that a man of Barou's lineage would want to marry me... while the servants look at me with pity and try to guide me, even without speaking the same language.

“Fuck” I murmured, I had gotten lost between massive rock walls.

“What are you doing in my chambers area?”

My skin crawled hearing such a harsh voice speak such rough French. I turned around slowly, in front of me stood my fiancé, with whom I had not exchanged a word since they abandoned me here. His proud and unreadable countenance as always, serene could also be called.

“I got lost” The nerves gnawed at me in such a way that my voice came out with a repressed and insecure tone through my throat. Seeing his intense gaze I was forced to look away immediately, something that had never happened to me before with a man, not even Chigiri.

His eyes swept me from head to toe, when, suddenly, his immense figure cornered me against the stone. My heart pumped harder, I couldn't breathe, it was as if a lion was about to devour me... does he want to consummate our treaty? I wouldn't be surprised if these barbarians raped me when I am alone and vulnerable, who cares about me after all? My father and Chigiri clearly don't.

“My subjects don't treat you well?”

I looked up slowly, finding an expression other than arrogant, he seemed worried and upset, his body over mine like a protective barrier. It would be a lie to say that I wasn't stunned by this sudden statement on his part.

“I asked you a question”

I considered his words for a moment, if his consideration for me was so great... accusing them before this barbarian was not a bad option, but perhaps not the most astute.

“N-no, my lord.” I lied, the nervousness that this man caused me was of unimaginable proportions.

That penetrating gaze went down through my eyes to my neck and breasts, I watched his jaw tense and his pupils dilate, his chest and pulse seemed to run at a faster pace under the furs he was wearing. I smiled a little and, although I tried to hide it, it didn't take a second for his eyes to catch it.

“Do you dare to make fun of me?”

He uttered the words indignantly, but with an intensity that indicated that any misstep would result in her getting her pussy fucked... What the fuck am I thinking? He is a barbarian.

“Not at all… it's just that the king seems to have certain marked tastes.”

Where had that come from? I didn't even know it, but my soul seemed ecstatic to provoke this beast. Even he was surprised, his irises turned dark and he licked his lips.

“My tastes don't matter, I chose you because your curves are the most fertile I have ever seen.”

That sentence sparked a fire that spread through every leaf of my being, there was something primal about that sentence that burned away every iota of perceived masculinity in my life. I wanted to be in his bed, I needed him to fill me, my blood boiled as if it were witchcraft... What was this sudden infatuation that was corroding my insides?

⌈ Barou ⌋

I was not attracted to the women of my kingdom and that for a king is a big problem. Every week several Jarls arrived and offered their daughters as lovers or wives, but none of them sparked my interest, none seemed worthy of bearing my offspring.

It wasn't until a certain French king had a crisis and he proposed to me for the hand of one of his ladies in exchange for some riches. At the beginning, a deal that I accepted out of courtesy, I had no interest in dirtying Viking blood... until I saw her enter through the door and my eyes became ecstatic at such a sign from the Gods. My cock grew hard, the need to lay her on the floor and spill the first load inside her gnawing at me... but her expression of sadness and terror calmed my instincts.

“Are you sure you didn't choose me out of desire?”

It was amazing that her gorgeous features could show such a lascivious expression like the one she wore now. The little Frenchwoman was trying my patience, she provoked me as if days ago she had not cried in horror for marrying a barbarian. It was incredible, after being forced to watch the door to her chambers every night because I believed she would escape from it... I had her in front of me eager to be taken.

I grabbed her neck roughly, without hurting her or putting pressure on her, for a moment she seemed scared. Her contact with her third skin made it hard instantly, since she was in the castle she had not been flaccid. I moved closer to her throat and breathed in her heady European perfume.

"The only thing I thought was that your pussy would look gorgeous dripping with my cum..." I licked her chin during the pause.

I could feel her heart pumping uncontrollably and how her body was not able to stand on its own. As I stood up again, her eyes begged me to take her, so I decided it was time to claim my queen. I carried her over my shoulder without much effort, something that alarmed her a little, because she began to struggle and demand that I get off her, something that a spanking can't solve. When my hand hit her ass, she let out a cry of surprise mixed with a moan. I laughed at that reaction, to which she hit my shoulder, an act that caused me to laugh even harder.

When I got to my chambers I threw her on my bed, she looked at me with reddened cheeks and pupils flooded with lust. I let the furs that rested on my shoulders fall and easily removed the shirt that covered my torso, y/n bit her lip and she uncomfortably brought her thighs together when she saw me. I smiled proudly, took her left ankle and pulled it towards me.

I grabbed her neck again and devoured her full lips with need for her. She did not hesitate to follow as she seemed to share my blinded state. My hand forcefully lowered her neckline, I freed those puppies tortured by the devilish corset, I couldn't resist the urge to lick and bite them, the gasps I stole from her mouth were the hottest thing I had ever heard.

[ Reader ]

I was screwed, but I couldn't help but give in. What other option did I have but to enjoy the pleasures this beast offered? The desire for me consumed him, I wasn't going to be so stupid as to reject the wet dream of every woman living or dead.

His tongue soaked every corner of my exposed skin and, upon reaching my thigh area, he tore off my panties and licked fervently between my folds. No man had done that before, the barbarian was devouring me as my premonitions said... but in an intoxicating way. Saliva slid and dripped onto the sheets; even when my legs threatened to close, Barou sucked harder on my clitoris.

After I came in his mouth, he emerged from between my thighs with the look of a hungry lion cornering its prey. He licked his lips and swallowed any residual orgasm fluid as his baggy black leather pants fell to the frigid floor. My eyes focused on his thick member, precum glistened on his glans and veins revealed how massive he is. Even knowing that he would get me pregnant on the first try, I begged him to put it inside right now.

"You are aware that if I take you now I won't stop until your uterus overflows... are you sure you want to continue?" His words were abrupt, but I couldn't help but nod. “Let's continue then.”

He opened my thighs firmly and looked voraciously, while his thumb opened my wet folds.

“You're ready”

Suddenly, he turned me around like a feather, my cheek against the pillow and my hips raised. I could feel the heat of his body approaching mine from behind, his giant hands held my waist in place, the anxiety was something to savor at that moment. His glans made its way between my walls, the stretch turned my eyes to the sky, every inch I managed to take felt searing, but so satisfying.

A guttural moan echoed from every corner of the room as his pelvis collided for the first time against the skin of my ass. Stiff and throbbing I had engulfed him completely inside me, my pussy lubricated him so much I could feel the fluids sliding down my thighs, the bed would be a mess after we were done. The thrusts were gentle at first, as if the beast king was looking for my limits, scared of my size compared to him; still, each entry was precise, the most sensitive points were rubbed masterfully and the pitch of my gasps increased. But, although the consistency felt delicious, my patience has an end and I needed him to completely let go of that bestiality that he displayed so much.

“Fuck, harder, idiot.”

To deny that the utterance of those words was somewhat violent would be a lie, but this man's anger was not justifiable. In an instant my hair was pulled and my pussy was being brutally attacked, the moans turned into screams which, in turn, I couldn't hear because the pleasure overrode all my senses. I knew I wouldn't last long at this pace, I could feel his smirk as he saw me unstable and completely fucked.

I almost lost consciousness as the orgasm consumed my body, all I could think about was his cum spilling inside me. I felt so much peace, so much satisfaction, I was no longer interested in France, Chigiri or my family, I was happy being fucked in his bed.

⌈ Barou ⌋

Her recently fertilized pussy was tensing, in a poor attempt to spill my semen, to which I took her hips to put them in a position that my load was directly towards her cervix, with my fingers I collected the spilled semen and sank them slowly inside her warm folds freshly abused by my cock.

My queen looked at me somewhat dazed and confused by the deafening orgasm I had given her, to which I smiled proudly and satisfied.

“Until your belly grows, your pussy is going to be stuffed every night.”

[youwontlikethisblog]

The Symbolism in YSBLF

Currently rewatching YSBLF, I'm on the episode where Armando and Mario have a big fight due to the provider Mario recommended being a con artist.

What drew my attention in this scene was the way it was set up. Betty is in the middle of them at the height of their heated argument, Mario and Armando move around, encircling her, and then finally she has her outburst and yells "Enough! Do you two want everyone to hear you and find out what's going on?".

Cue a couple of scenes later, Charlie Zaa gives Betty a kiss on the side of her face, walks away, Armando gets annoyed by this and burst's her bubble and the meeting begins, a meeting that ends with Mario, Armando, and Betty seeing the news about their con artist with Morch and Hugo in the room and later in the hall, when the three talk about said news, Armando tells Mario "This is the last time I ever listen to you!".

I have talked about the subtlety of YSBLF before but this...wow.

I admit, in the past this went over my head. I had never really thought those scenes mattered other than driving the plot and drama forward but now it has a whole new meaning.

Why?

Because almost 6 months from then, Mario and Armando have another big fight. Because days later, Armando listens again to Mario's poisonous thoughts that bring doubt to Betty's unwavering loyalty to Armando and Eco Moda and it finally clicked, that's why he wrote the letter so crudely.

I know that sounds so far fetched! Especially since he always spoke about Betty in such a way (Lowkey I think Mario in a previous period of his time fell in love with an "ugly" woman who rejected him and he has been a monster since then, because of all the comments he makes about ugly women being great in bed and such and how he knows how to woe one, yeah he's a player or whatever but it's just fun to think someone broke the pig's heart, you know?).

Why do I think that was the case?

This is the first time Mario and Armando have a fight like this, that we're aware of. Armando yells at him that even though Mario is a minority shareholder, he isn't risking nor jeopardizing anything compared to him, that he has to show face, loose the respect of his father, prove to them that they were wrong for giving him the presidency and that Daniel was right and if it weren't enough, that he bet using his parents and sister's money, as well as the Valencia's money and now their livelihood is at stake because of him. For an egocentric man that fears failure, rejection from his parents, and proving Daniel right, this is a huge sacrifice. Throughout the episode we see him pained and hurt.

All of a sudden everything everyone expected from him becomes a reality and he has to face his mother and his fiancé, who have stood by him through this, and tell them that they were wrong for placing their hope and faith in him, and look at his father, who knew he was not cut out for the job, and tell him that he was right and he should have gone with Daniel.

He's right, Mario isn't risking or jeopardizing much, he could easily get another job and move on, Armando would be disgraced, but Mario's ego jumps and screams that he too is just as important, that he too has a lot to loose and that he too is just as big of a man as him that he will face the entire committee as well, then of course they argue about who is to blame for all of this and Armando tells him that he was left in charge of making sure the provider's and broker were certified and trustworthy before a deal was ever made, that that was the whole reason he flew to Panama a day before, and then Mario blames him and they go back and forth.

The entire time, Betty stands in the middle of this ego fight, this blame argument, anguished and mad.

Why would Mario plan to deliberately cause harm to his best friend and Betty?

We often talk about how observant Mario is, how detailed he is and how much of an amazing manipulator he is and what has been said in my previous post about him still stands; He saw the way Betty was with Armando, and he saw the way Armando began to change his treatment of her and then Betty says "I told you this was a mistake." and Armando blows up at her about not needing to be reminded of it. He yells all of this to Betty while looking at Mario(I'm still trying to figure out why they decided to choreo the scene that way).

After Armando tells him that he will never listen to him again, Mario stands back, while Armando and Betty walk away, he looks at him with disdain, then looks down and exhales a breath of exhaustion.

Could Mario have been jealous that Betty was now the one influencing Armando? Yes. Could he have been mad at Armando for not considering him just as important as him in the company and his ego been bruised? Yes. These are possibilities for his character.

In a post I made not so long ago(that's sarcasm, it's been two years) I said that Mario's ego is fragile but like Teflon, insults and such don't stick for long, they slide right off. This little realization sort of contradicts that, right? Yes.

Let's consider Mario's character: Charismatic, charming, silly, funny, a cute dimply smile, good at his job(Whatever it is) and a womanizer, misogynic, absolute garbage of a man! He's disgustingly observant which makes his gaslighting, manipulation, and game absolutely next level. He leeches off of Armando, eats from his crumbs, and is a parasite type of a friend, the exact way that Patricia is for Marcela. In Mario's famous words "Yo Soy Un Tipo 1 A.".

Yet why would a parasite rebel against it's host? The host starts taking the medicine to kill it.

The symbolism, Betty is the remedy, Mario the parasite, and Armando the host.

Days later, Mario gets paranoid and tells Armando to question Betty about Nicolas, weeks later, he tells Armando that Betty is no longer trust worthy and that she could take away the company he loves, his parents love, the Valencia love, to please a man, since she's so ugly that's the only way she could ever get one.

He ruins her prestige image to Armando and sows the seed of disseat. Did he think Armando was going to fall in love with Betty? No, but once he suspected that Armando cared for her, he used that to his advantage.

I know this sounds crazy and far fetched but it just makes sense to me lol.

Why is it symbolic though?

Weeks later both Mario and Armando begin to share Betty when Mario comes up with this plan to seduce Betty to secure the company, and Armando like the imbecil he is, listens to him and follows through. Betty gets stuck in the middle of it, and while Mario doesn't risk much, Armando is risking everything, and finally, when this betrayal comes to light to Betty, she has enough, and in a symbolic way screams "Enough!" and lets everyone that matters(Marcela, even tho it was against her will.) know what Mario and Armando did and exacts her revenge on them.

In all of these scenes before Mario tells Armando about the plan to seduce Betty, any time Nicolas was brought up, the camera only focused on him, when Armando was still defending Nicolas, before he knew of the rumor that Nicolas was Betty's eternal love, Mario was the only person in that room suspecting and paranoid of Nicolas, and when he tried to alarm Armando, he didn't fall for it and defended Betty and who she trusted and why he also trusted Nicolas.

In the beginning of the heinous plan to seduce Betty, Mario was the one that kept pushing his paranoia onto Armando, I've talked about it a lot but it was always through the lens of Mario not wanting to loose his prestigious title and statues that he had.

What solidifies my theory is that the night after Armando first kissed Betty, as they're walking to the elevator to go home and for a sober Armando to confess everything soberly to convince Betty that he is obsessed with her, Mario walks with his model friend, rubbing her in his face, taunting him that he could be out there with attractive models and not his ugly assistant. The next day, when Mario goes to get a briefing on his night with Betty, he takes notice of the candy bar Betty left Armando, and tells him that it's a good sign, unwraps it, and takes the first bite, splits it, and hands a piece to Armando.

The candy bar is a symbol of Betty's love. They both just indulged in it.

Mario was so close to losing his freedom because Armando told him to take advantage of his attraction for Patricia and start a relationship with her in order to keep her from being Daniel's spy(We know that didn't work) but what Mario values most, his singlehood and childless life, is threaten because Armando asked him to sleep with Patsy. His role in the company and as Armando's number one adviser are basically being threaten because of the new Assistant. Of course Mario had to harbor some sort of resentment? Right? He is human after all.

And then one day, Armando stops sharing his cady bar with Mario, and his paranoia of losing his status and lifestyle, makes him stupid. He writes a letter, leaves no sort of clarification for his secretary, because maybe subconsciously, Mario wanted Armando to suffer and lose everything and Betty was simply collateral damage.

There's other instances of symbolism used in the novela, for example: Eco Moda Represents everything Armando loves and cares for, His parents, his goals, his ego and vanity. Eco Moda used to be it's own entity until Terra Moda was created, which was created with Eco Moda's money (Armando's and fam. money) to which Betty becomes the owner of. For a while these two companies function independently from each other. Armando didn't really care for Terra Moda, he said so himself, he just wanted it as a Plan B. Anytime Betty mentioned something about it he told her to do with it whatever she wanted, that he trusted her with it, when he found out about Nicolas and her dad working for the company, while he was bothered she didn't tell him, he didn't stop trusting her and trusted her word of reference for Nicolas.

For a long time these two companies stood on their own separate sides until Armando gave the order for Terra Moda to seize Eco Moda, and just like that, both Betty's and Armando's personal lives got entwined with each other. Eco Moda represents Betty, and Terra Moda, Armando's fragile ego.

I always talked about how Freddy and Aura were parallels to Betty and Armando's relationship and while rewatching it I picked up on a lot of symbolism from them. For example; Aura is Armando's exact replica, and she, along with everyone, knows that Jenny is nothing but a poor man's gold-digger and doesn't discriminate if they're attractive or not, but Aura hates her with a passion for taking Freddy('s attention and affection) away from her. The day after Betty's B-day, Aura is going off on a rant about how Jenny is a gold-digger and doesn't care for Freddy and just wants his money, which made me realize, that in Armando's mind, that's Nicolas, because in different words, Armando has said something similar about Nicolas like Aura has said about Jenny.

I know some of these things might sound far fetch but I have been sitting with these theories and ideas for a couple of weeks.

Anyway I was reading an old WIP that I started to write back in 2015(and never finished writing), before I ever watched YSBLF, the trope is the ugly duckling, and tell me why I named my main character Valencia Mendoza? Another one named Mario and I wrote in an Inez as well. I promise you that I barely watched this novela during lockdown, five years after the fact. I just thought that was crazy and wanted to share it.

Anyway I'm alive lol.

'Til next time :)

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not proofread.

Silvio suddenly grabbed my hand.

Emma: "U-Um…"

Silvio: "If you keep dragging your feet, the sun's gonna set before we even get to see what we came for."

(He says that, but he's not really rushing me.)

(If anything…)

He was gripping my hand a little tighter. The tension I hadn't even realized I was holding started to melt away.

(Being with him really does make me feel at ease.)

Emma: "Thank you, Prince Silvio."

Silvio: "Not sure what you're thanking me for."

(Alright, time to give it my all for this market research!)

(Since he's with me, I'm sure I'll get some good results.)

I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and he squeezed back. That action alone filled me with warmth and motivation.

A few days later...

Today was finally the day I'd pick the books I'd sell.

The merchant hadn't arrived yet, so it was just Silvio and me in the room.

Silvio: "What?"

He sat at a slight distance, legs crossed like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Emma: "I told the merchant I'd be handling the negotiations today, not you."

Emma: "I think he'd be surprised to see you here."

Silvio: "I know the guy who's coming. He's not the type to get flustered just because I'm around."

Silvio: "Which means he won't be easy to deal with."

(Ugh.)

Silvio: "Like I said earlier, I'm not gonna step in and save you."

Silvio: "This is your deal. You handle it from here."

Emma: "Yes. That's what I plan to do."

Silvio: "You're looking pretty confident."

Silvio: "This is just a warm-up before the big day. Let's see what you've got."

(I'm more nervous about being watched by Silvio than anyone else.)

(But that's exactly why I want to pull this off.)

After a while, the merchant arrived, bringing books from various cities across the continent.

Merchant: "It's pretty unusual for the fiancée of the future king to be selling at a market like this."

Merchant: "I was pretty surprised when you made this request."

After some small talk, the table was soon covered with various books.

Emma: "This time, I'd like to focus on children's picture books."

Emma: "I also want to gather books that would interest adults who bring their children to the shop."

Merchant: "Then, I suggest you choose from the books here."

As I started looking through the recommended children's books, one particular book caught my eye.

(I've seen this book before.)

I reached for it, but the merchant quickly blocked my view by presenting another book.

Merchant: "This one is a limited edition, with sales restrictions set by the author."

Merchant: "If you feature it as a flagship product, it'll attract attention and likely increase foot traffic."

Merchant: "The price is about this much—how does that sound?"

The price the merchant suggested was several times higher than the other books.

(If it really is as rare as he says, it might be worth it.)

I looked the merchant straight in the eye and shook my head.

Emma: "It's a fine book, but I'm not willing to negotiate at that price."

Silvio: "Heh? And why is that?"

Before the merchant could respond in surprise, Silvio's gaze met mine. His eyes were sharper than usual as if he were negotiating with another business partner.

For a moment, I felt my spine straighten under the intensity of his look.

Still, I didn't flinch and returned my gaze to the merchant and Silvio.

Emma: "The book is a limited edition, but the author lifted the sales restriction a year ago, and it's slowly becoming available on the market."

Emma: "So, its rarity isn't as high as it used to be. However…"

I pointed to one of the books that had been pushed aside.

Emma: "That book over there is the legendary one said to exist in only a handful of copies across the continent."

Merchant: "!"

Emma: "It features the author's beautiful artwork."

Emma: "I've heard it's been sold for a high price at recent auctions."

Merchant: "I'm surprised. I didn't expect you to know all that."

The merchant's surprise made Silvio smile.

Silvio: "These are the important books you traveled the continent to collect, right?"

Silvio: "I bet you were worried about leaving them with someone who wouldn't understand their value, but with her, you don't have to."

Merchant: "I see. I'm confident we can proceed with this transaction with ease. I look forward to working with you."

Emma: "Likewise."

(I'm glad they trust me now.)

After proving my knowledge of the books' value, the negotiation went smoothly, and I managed to gather everything I wanted at the right price.

Emma: "Finally."

After the deal was done, I returned to my room, still feeling the lingering tension and sense of accomplishment. That's when I noticed a sweet scent in the air.

Emma: "Hmm? What's that smell?"

Following the scent, I found a tea set and a delicious-looking cake on the table.

Surprised, I looked at Silvio, who responded with a confident smile.

Emma: "This is from that new bakery we saw while walking around the city."

Silvio: "Yeah."

Emma: "Did you prepare this?"

Silvio: "Who else would've?"

(When did he do this?)

Silvio: "You were eyeing that cake yesterday."

Emma: "How did you know!?"

Silvio: "Anyone could tell by the way you were looking at it."

Silvio: "Well, consider it a small celebration for the successful negotiation. Go ahead and eat."

(From the start, Silvio believed I'd succeed.)

Emma: "Hehe. Thank you. Then, I'll have some."

I sat down, prepared the tea, and reached for the fork when—

Emma: "Ah!"

He quickly took the fork from my hand.

Surprised, I watched as he brought the fork with the cake to my mouth.

Silvio: "Come on, open your mouth."

Emma: "Huh?"

(It's rare for Silvio to offer to feed me like this.)

Silvio: "To really get the heart of things, you need energy and persistence."

Silvio: "That was pretty impressive for your first business negotiation."

(Ah...)

Hearing those kind words from someone who understands the struggles of business really warmed my heart.

Emma: "Thank you, Prince Silvio."

(I'm so happy he acknowledges me.)

I opened my mouth, and he fed me the cake.

Afterward, I picked up more stuff from another shop, checked out the store display, and got everything ready for the business.

Finally, the day of the market arrived.

After finishing the setup and arranging all the items, something unexpected happened.

Emma: "The cart got in an accident?"

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Part 3