#so of course i forgot about it and had to do it all in a rush

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃

zayne x non-mc

Sypnosis : At Akso Hospital, love is tested beneath the hum of fluorescent lights and the weight of unspoken words. You and Zayne, a brilliant but distant surgeon, have spent three years together—balancing careers, love, and sacrifice. But when his childhood friend is admitted as a critical patient, lines begin to blur, and hearts begin to break.

In a world where timing is cruel and silence speaks louder than truth, one choice will change everything.

You and Zayne had been together for almost three years. Three years of shared dreams, late-night shifts, fleeting kisses between surgeries, and quiet mornings when neither of you had the energy to speak. Everything was good—or at least, that’s what you believed.

Both of you were surgeons at Akso Hospital, living under the same fluorescent lights and constant beeping monitors. The job was demanding. But love... you always believed love found time, no matter how busy.

Zayne Li—the top surgeon in the hospital. Ebony hair, hazel green eyes, and a presence so composed it unnerved others. Starcatcher Awardee. Unshakable. Cold, some would say. But not to you. You knew him differently. Knew the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly after losing a patient, or how he watched the sunrise like it was the only soft thing left in this world.

But lately, that softness was no longer yours.

It shifted.

To her.

To MC.

She was young. Sweet. Talkative. Friendly. His childhood friend. And now—a patient. When she arrived with a heart condition, Zayne took it upon himself to be her personal doctor. No one questioned it. Of course he would.

And you didn’t either. Not at first.

“You should eat more vegetables,” Zayne said, setting down a tray of food beside MC’s bed.

“Says the doctor who hates carrots.” She laughed, pointing at him with her fork. “And don't think I forgot you hoarded all the sugar packets in the lounge.”

You stood in the hallway watching them—his smile. The way he leaned a little closer. The way her fingers touched his wrist casually, familiarly.

Yvonne, manning the front desk, turned to you with furrowed brows. “Don’t you think they’re… too close?” she asked quietly.

You forced a smile. “That’s nonsense. They’re just friends…”

But the words felt like ash on your tongue.

One night, you walked into MC’s room with a folder in hand.

“Zayne, can I—”

You stopped.

Your world stopped.

His lips were on hers.

He pulled away instantly when he saw you. “This—this isn’t what it looks like.”

You stared blankly. Cold rushed to your limbs. “I’m sorry if I bothered you,” you whispered, then turned away.

Zayne followed you into the quiet hallway. Midnight. Only a few nurses on night shift, none paying attention.

“[reader], wait, please—let me explain.”

“What is there to explain!?” you snapped.

“MC and I are just friends—” “It sure doesn’t look like that.” Your voice broke. “Do our three years together mean nothing to you?”

“No! Of course they do. I just—Please… don’t make me choose between you.”

That silenced everything.

You looked at him, tears trembling in your lashes. “Why? Because you’d choose her?”

And he said nothing.

MC’s condition worsened. The waiting list for a heart donor was long. Too long.

You saw her cry. You saw Zayne hold her, tell her he’d find a way.

And so, you made the decision for him.

“I have everything, don’t I?” you told Yvonne quietly, days later as you stood in the prep room. “I achieved my dream. I became a surgeon. I saved lives…”

You smiled faintly. “Maybe saving hers will be the last thing I do right.”

Yvonne choked back tears. So did Dr. Greyson. The nurses. All of them. Because they knew. They all knew what you were about to give up.

Six hours.

The operation was successful.

MC’s vitals were stable.

Applause echoed softly in the room—relieved sighs from nurses, notes scribbled into charts, another life saved. Zayne, still in his surgical scrubs, removed his gloves, sanitized, and walked out.

The first thing he asked was:

“Where’s [reader]?”

No one answered.

His eyes narrowed. He asked again. More firmly.

Greyson finally stepped forward.

“…zayne.. maybe you shouls follow me.."

Zayne was led into another room. The air felt wrong. Heavy. And then—he saw the surgical table. A body, still, beneath a white sheet.

And when the blanket was pulled away—

It was you.

It had always been you.

The donor.

The girlfriend he could never bring himself to choose.

Now gone.

Forever.

Zayne’s knees gave out beneath him. For once, the cold and stoic surgeon—broke.

𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗲𝗳𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱

𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴.

Author's note : zayne's pov was already written in my draft actually hehehe. also, i'm still in the process of writing sylus's story. penny for your thoughts, regarding this story?

[kissmeizuku]

"Embarrassed to be your boyfriend." Bakugo x Reader (ANGST + FLUFF)

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You and Katsuki had been in a relationship for over 5 months, and it's been going very well!

Well, until one morning he woke up and said "Yeah, I'm gonna be a complete asshole to Y/N without reasoning."

On that day, you had screamed like a banshee, "KATSSS!!!" like you always do.

You ran up behind him and hugged him tightly, but he, instead of smirking a little and turning around to ruffle your hair and kiss your cheek, decided to grunt in annoyance and shrug you off.

You blinked in confusion. Maybe hurt, maybe shocked, maybe concerned. But mostly confused.

"Did I do something wrong, sweets?" You asked, tilting your head.

He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, his upper lip pushing up a bit to show his sharp left canine tooth. "Jus' leave me alone." He growled out.

You paused there for a moment. Well, maybe he's just stressed from homework... if that's even possible for him. You thought, before ultimately nodding and leaving him alone.

A day after that, you grinned when you saw him leaning against the hallway wall, through the swarms of crowds trying to get to their classes on time. You hugged him tightly and leaned in to kiss his neck, but he just placed a rough hand on your forehead, pushing you back.

You pouted slightly. "You're still mad about something?" You asked.

He nodded, grunting in irritation, turning his head to the side so he didn't have to look at you.

You grumbled something under your breath and turned away, walking away to leave the explosive boy alone... again.

A week. An entire week. You were drowning without him. You were confused, sad, and scared all at the same time. Did you do something wrong? Is he cheating on you? Did he lose feelings? It was horrifying.

You couldn't take it anymore, and you stood up, walking around to hopefully find Katsuki. And there he was, talking to Denki, Kirishima, and Sero.

You gently tapped him on the shoulder, staring up at him with big innocent eyes.

He tensed up feeling your touch, and he growled, snapping. You broke his last straw.

"What the fuck do you want now?!" He yelled, eye twitching.

You froze.

He was yelling.

He always yells.

But never at you.

"...I just wanted to ask som-" He interuppted you.

"God, could you fuck off for once? I'm embarrassed to even be dating you! You're so damn clingy, overly affectionate and touchy. Tch. Pisses me off!"

Denki, Kirishima and Sero watched with wide, blinking eyes, the juice boxes in their hand forgotten and comically, slowly slipping out of their hands while they watched the scene before their eyes.

You swallowed thickly, shrinking into your shoulders, as if trying to make yourself invisible so he'd stop yelling at you (God bless Hagakure).

"I-I'm sorry..." You mumbled out, fidgeting with your fingers, slowly backing away and then leaving.

He snarled, rolling his eyes as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground.

"Can you believe that extra?" He muttered to the other three, who were still frozen like they just saw All Might commiting a murder to an innocent person.

"Dude..." Sero started, blinking.

"What?"

"Bro..." Denki added.

Katsuki cocked his head to the side.

Kirishima cleared his throat. "That... wasn't very manly of you..." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The fuck do you mean?"

Denki stepped forward, frowning a little. "That was a total dick-move. All she wanted was to ask a question."

"And then you yelled at her and called her clingy..." Sero reminded, as if Katsuki forgot it.

Of course he didn't forget it.

He wanted to.

But he couldn't.

And the guilt was eating his insides.

"And?" Katsuki questioned, acting nonchalant.

"Bakubro... She's your girlfriend. You know who you just yelled at, right??" Kirishima said awkwardly.

"Of fuckin' course I know. Why would I yell if I didn't? I said she's being clingy, and I meant it. You would get sick of it too if you were her boyfriend." Katsuki shot back, crossing his arms.

Denki blinked, golden eyes wide. "...I mean, if you don't want her, I'll gladly take her." He offered, shrugging.

Kirishima snickered, and Sero stifled his own laugh with a hand clamped over his mouth.

Katsuki growled. "Fuck off, Pikachu. You wouldn't be able to handle her anyway. She's too clingy and annoying for your own good."

"Naaahh! I can handle her! Me personally, I'd be swooning and tripping on my own shoes if she were being clingy with me." Denki grinned.

"You're already swooning for her when she's doing literally nothing." Sero snickered out.

"Exactly! Just number 396 why I should be dating Y/N and not Bakubro dating her." Denki said boldly, smirking.

"Hey, I have an idea." Kirishima mentioned, grinning with his sharp shark teeth.

"What is it now, shitty hair?" Katsuki replied, his hip tilting to the side. (gay pose I mean what who said that)

"If you're clearly so tired and sick of Y/N... why not let Denki borrow her?" Kirishima suggested smugly. "Because you so very obviously don't want her..."

His brain said "kill all 3 of them right now" immediately at that suggestion. Sharing you? As if you were some trophy? Oh, fuck no.

But did he really want to back down on a challenge?

Also fuck no.

So he reluctantly agreed. "Fine. Whatever. Go ahead. See how long it takes until you get sick of her clinginess."

Denki bounced up and down, grinning. "WAIT, REALLY?! OH, HECK YEAH! THIS IS GONNA BE AWESOME! I'll ask her out tomorrow!"

[noctiva]

Having g disgusting thoughts about ex bf toby who just cant get over you yknoe staring in yojr windows stalking where ever you go missing you angerly fisting his cock to the thought of yoh god helps anyone you try and date after him doubt he'd do anything public doesn't want you to know hes still watching till he wants you too. Just ough tje thought of the guy you went on a *good* date with thinking yoj fi ally recovered after toby only to open your door to see a gift wrapped box next to flowers you open it bam his heart and pictures of his corpse -M

RAHHHHHHHHH YEAH. the way he’d do this even if he was the one to break up with you. he did it because he thought it was for the best but every day without you feels like a gaping wound. lying awake in bed feeling nauseous at the thought of someone else laying their hands on you. someone else kissing you. someone else knowing your body like he does.

probably actually does throw up a couple times over it. especially if you block him/don’t immediately try to come crawling back to him. the idea that you might actually be doing better without him? it makes him shake. makes his throat close up. has the sadness and anger blurring together into one big volatile mess.

he stays away for maybe a week. and that’s pushing it. but he can only take so much.

picking up his jacket and still smelling your perfume on it making him want to slam his head through a window. up until the earliest hours of the night, his nose shoved into a pair of shorts you forgot at his place, pumping his cock fast and desperate. it used to suffice before he met you, but now that you’ve left your mark? it’s barely enough to get off. he can still vividly remember how perfectly your cunt gripped him - using his right hand after that is a joke.

so yeah. he stalks you. secretly hopes that you’re just as miserable as he is. that you can’t live without him. that you’d be ecstatic if he walked back into your life again.

and he gets that for a bit. sees the tears, the nights of frustration where you toss and turn. the scowl on your face when you break it off with yet another failed rebound. it’s gratifying. satisfying.

until it’s not.

you go on a good date, with a nice normal guy. he treats you well, makes you laugh, makes you smile - sends you home with a blush on your cheeks and a grin on your face. and god help you, because toby witnessed all of it. every little interaction. trailing you from the moment he picked you up, to the restaurant, to witnessing him placing a kiss on your cheek before he dropped you back off.

and that feels like a swift kick to the nuts. because how dare you? after everything he did for you? all the time you two had spent together? you’re moving on just like that? without even trying to make amends?

he’s not even sure who he’s more mad at; you, or the prick who somehow succeeded in sweeping you off your feet. as if he had any clue how to treat you right. as if he could ever love you the way toby did, and still does.

he wastes no time. follows the guy home after he drops you off. slaughters him the same day he stole your heart. and it is brutal. just so much unspent rage and grief taken out on this innocent bystander. but to toby? he’s anything but innocent. he’s a thief. he turned you into a traitor.

he doesn’t even notice it when the guy finally stops breathing, doesn’t even pay attention to his wails subsiding. just keeps delivering hit after hit, until he looks more like minced meat than a human corpse.

and of course, he wouldn’t want you to make this same mistake again.

you found it off that you didn’t receive a single text after the date had went so well. you’re checking your phone every five minutes, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you did wrong.

a knock on the door disrupts your thoughts. when you open it, there’s not a soul in sight. but on your porch? a bouquet of your favourite flowers, right next to a neatly wrapped little gift box.

and you smile. thinking that maybe this is a cute little surprise from your new love interest.

but of course it’s not. you should’ve expected that.

you drop the box as soon as you open it; the inner contents a mess of blood and gore that immediately makes you dry heave. the metallic scent clings to your nostrils, the Polaroid photo that accompanies it burns into your retinas.

dark and blurry, but it’s still clear as day what it is. the corpse of the man you had met just last night - slaughtered like a cow.

and next to it, a note.

‘nice try. stop wasting time and just come back to me.’

[deveondog]

HHi, could you write for Ace, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, and Idia x male reader? The reader is their online boyfriend, and one day they see him at a school festival wearing the RSA uniform. How would you react to finding out that your boyfriend is studying at NRC's rival school?

SDC shenanigans

ft: Ace Trappola and Azul Ashengrotto

You wanted to surprise your boyfriend by meeting them at the Song and dance competition!

cw?: Most likey ooc :c Azul insecurities! i tried to go into them a bit so i hope its ok! Reader is mentioned to be friends with Neige in Ace's!

Written on computer, space editing on phone! hope its no to weird looking! i rlly hope the things are transparent uhh

Request?: Yep! :) thank you for the request! i appreciate it lots!

Ace: Shocked and put off by it..

You and him had been dating for a couple months. The only time you guys had mentioned your schools was when you had mentioned off handedly that you got into the school of your dreams!, and he just said he got into a prestigious collage on an island that his brother went to. Nothing special. That's what he thought anyway. That's until he just happens to get a glance of you at the song and dance competition before the voting happens. While he was still on stage he happened to have noticed you in the stands looking at him happily, and he just stood there at first. Too shocked to do anything. Deuce was the first to notice and ask him.

“Hey Ace are you okay?” Ace just blanks and turns his head slowly to Deuce's face. “Dude.. my boyfriends here..” “BOYFRIEND?!”

Don't get him wrong, he is ecstatic to see you! It's just he wasn't expecting it at all! Especially since you are in a Royal Sword Academy uniform? Whys that..

After the voting he immediately asks his seniors if it's okay to go greet someone. Vil– assuming its family, lets him go without question. He runs up to the stands and finds you quickly, being how you were trying to meet him halfway. “Ace! Hii!! I'm so happy to finally see you!!” You seem so happy! He just can't get the fact that you're in an RSA uniform out of his head.. “Hey yeah,, happy to see you too.! Uhm why are you in an RSA uniform by the way.. You never said you went there?” Your smile falters a bit, and he notices the sadness growing in your eyes. “I guess I forgot to mention it hah. You're not.. upset are you? That we go to rival schools.?”

He stutters out a quick– “No no of course not!! I'm just really surprised is all.. ‘Sides like you said you never really mentioned it..How’d you know I go to Night Raven?” You chuckle a bit, before saying “I diddnt heh heh, I just came with Neige and the boys to support them!! They did awesome didnt they! Sorry about you guys loosing, Aggaain~” You teased. He was a bit angry, but he couldn’t stay angry at you of all people for too long.. “Haah.. You really are something aren’t you?” “You bet I am!!”

Azul: Stunned as well, but fearing the worst..

He was a busy man today. In between running from his club room to the rowdy sports club vendors, he had his hands full. And seeing his beloved during one of his runs to the vendors out by the colosseum wasn't what he expected. Or how he expected to meet you. He felt his insecurities rearing their ugly heads when he first saw you. "What if my hair is off today?” “What if I look bad today.?” “What if I look worse in person!” What if- whatifwhatif–

Jack interrupts his thoughts. Asking him about his contract with his club. Azul remains composed and poised. Answering his question with such attention and detail you wouldn't think he was almost on the verge of a breakdown. After dealing with Jack, you spot him. You start waving wildly and calling his name. And he starts panicking internally. He started walking to the rarest bathroom, knowing you would trail him as best you could through the rough crowd. He started walking a bit faster than the average person in the bunch.

Of course once he's in a bathroom he hears the door open again a few seconds later. “ ‘Zul are you in here?” He has to remain composed. Remain calm stay calm staycalm. “Azul, I know you're in here.. I wanna talk to you!” Staycalmstaycalm. “It's nothing bad I swear! I just wanna see your pretty face!” He pauses. That's right.. You're the one who helped him through his episodes of madness.. Even after he mentioned his overblot you stayed with him. No matter how ugly he could be, you would be with him. He remains still but opens the door. Only to see you in an RSA uniform. Stunned, he keeps staring. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You smirk, and then chuckle lightly. “Having an episode again?” You ask softly. Not angrily or disgusted at him. Just you. Soft and tender. “Hey hey, just focus on me, alright Azul?”

He looks you in the eyes and cant help but sigh. You’re so beautiful it hurts. Like the sun shining down onto him. Beaming smiles but such soft words.. “Hello my pearl.. I apologize, this is how we have to meet in person..” “Hey, it’s ok Azul! I'm just as thrilled to meet you!!”

He sees you smiling so bright and offers up a small smile back, the focuses in on your uniform. “Oh.. yeah this heh.” You back up a bit, and look at him solemnly. “You’re not mad i forgot to mention this to you right.?” His smile extends. “I could never be mad at you my pearl..” He comes up and cups your cheek with his hand. “Esspesailly when you have helped me through so much my love..” “Heh heh, I love you ‘Zul” You smile somehow even brighter. He– bathing in your light– smiles still. “I love you too, my pearl..”

A/N: i hope its ok i did two!! i did try and make them pretty long so hope its ok! :)) im gonna have to limit my characters to about 4 cuz that was alot heh!!! thank you for the request!

Thanks for reading! <3

[theotherrookie]

Erica smiled, "That's so sweet! Lewis was such a good bro to all of you."

Not that it would have taken much to shine with people like Cassandra around. If Travis ended up asking Veronica about her afterlife mailing service, she might sneak in a note for Lewis too.

"I realized while interacting with my own brothers and sisters the real focus of those conversations are our loved ones themselves rather than their interests." Willow said, "I hardly struggle with learning about topics outside my scope, but it makes it more pleasant than simply absorbing the information."

An extensive knowledge of the supernatural was essentially useless to her, but it mattered to Rook and that was enough of a reason to pay attention. Likewise, Willow didn't mind watching Fae and Erica practice their dance moves whenever they met up at the facility.

"I like it too." Erica replied, "I'm not very good at it, but it's something else to do when I'm not feeling like doing anything in the gym. What's your favorite style?"

"The two of you are going to summon Fae at this rate." Willow mused.

"Well, it'd be fun if she dropped by! And yeah, it's nice that the shadows don't need that to come out."

It would have been painful and as easy as it was for her to recover from injuries, it would suck if all her shadow tails had to literally break out. Erica really didn't envy werewolves when it came to that.

But it looked like they were almost there. Erica leaned forward again, looking ahead to see if she could spot the others.

Rook chuckled at that. She had worried about the pocket being inhospitable even for a brief period, but it sounded like it had proved to be a good substitute for a private study.

"I guess it saved you from hearing your own voice. Many people can't stand it." She happened to be one of them. "But I'm glad you still put that time to use while we figured things out."

She couldn't believe how Five had freely wasted their time like that. If he had anything in that toxins riddled brain of his, he wasn't going to show his ugly face for a while even after his conditions had improved.

"The craziest thing is that it was all created long ago. We went through most of the book, but it implies that we can do more than elemental magic." Rook said, before giving a small shrug, "Like, I guess we can already branch out a bit, but it sounds like there's so much more we forgot over time."

There was so much left to learn and Five's stupidity meant it'd have to be done completely from scratch, as he'd definitely refuse to share what he knew with her now.

But that was a battle for another day.

"Well, I'll be sure to stop by when you do." Lucien replied, smiling.

Rook chuckled as she gave Russell a gentle pat. "Hey, you're our two bug enthusiasts. Of course you were going to match!"

At least she could pretend she had known all along. if anything, it had been interesting to watch how spending time together had affected both Lucien and Russell.

Veronica was quite happy for them as well, despite keeping her distance.

She nodded approvingly, "I'm sure you will find the most appropriate solution."

And if not, Rook had some experience in fitting unlikely items into jewelry.

"You know, I made that." she stated proudly, "And I guess we could. It's as strong as the real deal, we could make something that actually looks nice."

Unlike Ratchet's junk. Rook moved some feathers out of her face, the fluff betraying how thrilled she was that her gift had been appreciated. She looked at the exit, then grabbed Bill's arm.

"It's one way to avoid being late for work. The destination is the best part, though. Come on."

Lucien watched Rook head to the exit, then took Russell's hand in his. It looked like it was as simple as walking through a regular door, but it was as good of an excuse to do that as any.

"Let's leave this glorified broom closet. I want everybody to see how handsome you are."

Veronica rolled her eyes. The fae were all the same.

Willow was glad they were all on the same page and welcomed the change of topic. While she enjoyed hearing about all the ways Travis and Erica terrorized people growing up, she'd rather learn more about the brothers they had yet to meet and file that information away for later.

"I take it having conflicting interests doesn't represent a problem for you." Willow mused.

Erica grabbed the seats as she shot forward. "You can dance? That's so cool!"

"Erica, don't scratch the seats. We'd like to use this car again." Nevertheless, Willow found her double's enthusiasm endearing.

"No claws." Erica said, before she nodded again, "Yep, it's a thing. There are many kinds of elves, some harder to find than others. I just wanted a normal back because I had enough of having extra holes in my body."

The survivors just didn't get that the bullets only slowed down the special zombies. Her tail and ears were enough to satisfy her elven pride and set her apart from the others. She didn't regret the decision at all.

"But I guess that it had some use because that's kinda where some of my shadows come from." Erica added, leaning back again.

Willow was quiet as she messed with the radio again. They were getting close to their destination, they had to be ready to make their entrance.

It had to be handed to Rook that she was certainly showing great self restraint there. She could have attempted so many things to make the pocket far more creepy.

"Yeah, it'd be unnerving to be in here with that kind of background noise." she replied, "Especially since you're never truly alone. There are a couple of fellows in particular that you don't want creeping up behind you. Being constantly on the lookout for which noises you didn't make would be exhausting."

And dangerous, considering the aforementioned prisoners in question.

"I'm just salvaging the pieces, really." Rook added with a shrug, "Between the Brotherhood guys shoving an entire building in and this place being essentially abandoned for decades, it's like we're discovering it for the first time again even with the instruction manual available."

"Even I wasn't aware of its full potential." Veronica admitted, "Although, I'm sure all that energy will be put to good use."

Rook chuckled, "Like I could get any sassier."

"You can't?" Lucien had a coin flicked at him.

"Well, I don't mind the approval. I never exactly got much of a chance to share my interests, being told I'm good at things has the same effect bubble tea has on Lucien."

"I'm well over that. I'm into peach flavored drinks now." Lucien protested.

"Oh, I bet you are. But I'm happy for you guys."

Lucien gave her a skeptic look as they got ready to go again. At least he got a nice bag of gold out of this. It would cover for the small fortune he spent on retrieving his cuffs.

Veronica hovered by Antonio as he put the coin away for the time being. "Chick's magic trace is embedded in that thing. It can be tracked down, so I wouldn't be so quick to put it in a drawer, if I were you."

Not that she could have much of a say in the matter. Veronica knew her limits and for now she would feel satisfied knowing she got a chance to mess with Bill. It was harsh being the responsible parental figure, she never got a chance to mess around.

She put on her stern look as they approached, feeling like having fun a little longer, and let Rook go ahead to check on him.

"Ah, nothing much, we stopped by the gift shop." Rook replied, "We grabbed something for you too. I figured you might have some fun with it."

And she hoped she would get to join in again. It had been nice working together to reverse engineer Ratchet's gadgets. She would have liked attempting some other project.

A new portal opened nearby, ready to be used.

[formulafanfics13]

Good Girls Don’t Brat in Cartier - Toto Wolff 🔥

masterlist

Request

She dropped the Cartier bag on the armchair like it was a joke. And that was her first mistake.

It landed soft against the leather, handles falling sideways, the box inside shifting just enough to catch Toto’s attention. He saw it. She knew he saw it. He didn’t say anything at the time. Just glanced down at his watch, that cold silver Patek Philippe that probably cost more than her rent, and raised one eyebrow.

But he didn’t stop her. Not yet.

She padded off toward the ensuite with that practiced little sway in her hips, hair swinging just enough to remind him that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her sundress. The hotel lights made her look expensive and innocent all at once, tanned legs, delicate sandals, that smug little smile that had been irritating him since dinner.

Toto stayed where he was. Poured himself a glass of something neat and brutal. Sat on the couch and waited. It wasn’t the dress. Or the bag. Or the fake innocence she wore like perfume.

It was the attitude. The thankless, pretty, ungrateful attitude.

She’d flirted through dinner. Nothing direct. Just a little too much laughing at the wrong jokes. The way she leaned toward the sommelier when he poured her wine. The way she smiled at Pierre like she hadn’t been bouncing on Toto’s cock just two nights ago in this same fucking suite.

She thought she was clever. Untouchable. That being young and soft and beautiful meant she could play this game on her own terms. But what she didn’t understand, what he hadn’t shown her yet, was that she wasn’t the player here.

She was the toy. And toys didn’t get away with bratting.

The bathroom door opened twenty minutes later. She stepped out in one of his white dress shirts, sleeves cuffed sloppily at her wrists, hem hanging like a dress, bare legs peeking out beneath the high cut.

Toto watched her from the couch. She didn’t look at him. Just walked past, ignoring the Cartier bag again, and climbed onto the bed like she hadn’t just been a fucking menace all night.

His voice didn’t rise. It never did. “You didn’t open the gift.”

She glanced over her shoulder, faux-innocent. “Oh. Right. I forgot.”

He blinked. One slow, measured breath. “You forgot,” he repeated.

She shrugged. “Long day.”

“You brat on my arm all night, you flirt with everyone who looks at you, you ignore the bag I hand-picked for you, and you tell me it’s because your day was long?”

She didn’t answer. That was her second mistake. Toto rose. Unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. Rolled them back slowly, one at a time, until his forearms flexed in the low hotel light.

Then he crossed the room. Every step was deliberate. Calm. Dangerous.

She sat up on the bed, finally watching him. But it was too late now. He was already in front of her. Already looking down with that cold Austrian control that made men twice her age shut up and step back. “Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, sir.”

“You accept my gifts.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You thank me.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You don’t fucking brat about it like some cheap girl I picked up off the street.”

Her thighs clenched under the shirt. He noticed. Of course he noticed. “You want to be spoiled?” he asked, low. “Then you learn the difference between being taken care of and being owned.”

She swallowed. “Toto-”

“On your knees.”

She slid off the bed instantly. Knees hitting the rug, eyes wide, lips parted. He stepped forward, hand cupping her jaw. “Open.”

She opened.

He didn’t undo his belt. Not yet. Just dragged his thumb along her bottom lip. Pressed it past her teeth and hooked it in her cheek until her eyes watered. “Pretty little mouth,” he murmured. “So good at saying thank you. Until she thinks she’s too good for it.”

She whimpered. He smiled. And then unbuckled his belt with one hand. Pulled his cock out slow. Thick, flushed, already heavy in his hand. “You want to behave like a spoiled little thing?” he said, stroking it lazily. “Then thank me properly.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Her mouth wrapped around him soft and slow, tongue curling, lips parting wide. He groaned. Let her work for it.

One hand in her hair. Gentle. Controlled. The other holding the base, guiding her rhythm. He didn’t fuck her throat yet. Not until she gagged once, just a little, and blinked up at him with wet lashes.

Then he grabbed the back of her head. “Hands behind your back.”

She obeyed. He thrust. Slow, deep, decisive. Her nose brushed his stomach. Her eyes watered. Toto groaned like it was relief.

“You look better like this,” he murmured. “Quiet. On your knees. Doing what you’re told.”

She gagged again. He didn’t stop. Didn’t speed up. Didn’t get cruel. Just held her there. Stretched. Salivating. Owned. When he finally pulled out, her mouth was red and glossy, drool trailing down her chin. He cupped her face. “You remember who takes care of you now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’ll open your gifts when I give them to you?”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled. Bent down. And slapped her cheek, not hard, but firm enough to shock her back into place. “Then get on the bed. Face down. Ass up.”

She scrambled.

The shirt rode up as she climbed onto the mattress. She kept her knees spread, hands tight on the headboard, waiting.

Toto walked to the chair. Picked up the Cartier bag. Opened it. Slid the box out with one hand. A delicate gold chain glittered inside, thin, dainty, cruelly expensive.

He set it on the bedside table. “You’ll wear this tomorrow,” he said, climbing behind her.

Her breath hitched.

“Everyone will see it. You’ll smile and say thank you. And you’ll remember how you earned it.”

She whimpered. He grabbed her hips. And slapped her ass. Once. Twice. A third time. The sound cracked through the room like a whip.

“For dinner.”

Slap.

“For the way you spoke to me.”

Slap.

“For ignoring the gift.”

She moaned, knees trembling. Toto dragged his fingers through her folds. Soaking. “Filthy little brat,” he muttered. “You like being punished, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

He pulled her closer. And pushed in with one brutal, slow thrust. She cried out. The stretch. The depth. The ownership.

He groaned behind her. “Fucking tight.” He stayed still for a moment. Buried. Letting her adjust. Letting her feel it.

And then he started to fuck her. Not fast. Not rough. Deep. Controlled. Each thrust deliberate. Like he was rearranging her on purpose.

“You’re mine,” he said, hand pressing down between her shoulder blades. “Not some spoiled girl with a nice dress and a sharp tongue. You belong to me.”

She gasped. “Yes, sir-fuck-yes-”

“Say it.”

“I belong to you.”

“Again.”

“I belong to you.”

He fucked her harder. One hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her hip tight enough to bruise. Her moans turned to sobs, not from pain, but from pressure, from relief, from how good it felt to finally give in.

Toto didn’t stop. He bent over her, mouth to her ear. “I take care of you,” he whispered. “I dress you. Feed you. Pay for your life. You think it’s because you’re pretty?”

She shook her head.

“It’s because you’re mine.”

His hand found her throat. Pulled her up until her back hit his chest. He fucked her like that. Deep, slow, relentless. She was crying now. Pleasure. Filth. Submission. He growled. “Come.”

She shattered in his arms. Screamed his name. Shook. And still, he didn’t pull out. Just stayed inside her. Held her. And whispered, “Good girl.”

After an hour, he cleaned her up himself. Towelled her gently. Laid her on the pillows like she was something sacred. Then he picked up the chain. Clasped it around her throat. Not fast. Not soft. Final.

She touched it.

Toto kissed her hand. “Next time you brat in Cartier,” he said, “I’ll remind you harder.”

And she fucking smiled. Because she wouldn’t dream of wearing anything else.

[docholligay]

As one does when one has reconciled oneself to the inability to chew one's own leg off and escape the trap, I was rewatching 13 in the English dub the other night. I hadn't seen it in English, it's an R&R heavy ep, so sue me.

ANYWHOOZLE, some things I thought of while watching this:

I had forgotten Hughes' motivation for not telling Roy they were coming was, "And miss this opportunity to fuck with him? Please."*

I forgot we get some....""""SCIENCE""" explanation for Roy being a fucking Fire Mage or whatever**.

FIrst of all I love him swanning around with his fucking magical girl sparkles, Roy what even are you, fuck. I am not a scientist, I'm a moron, but I'm pretty sure if you can adjust the oxygen density of air you do not need sexy flint gloves to kill people. You can manage it pretty well all on its own. Especially since it seems he can do it even in a LARGE LARGE area. This is the fucking parade ground. Also also, how can he 'send' it, then, if all he's doing is lighting up dense oxygen? he'd have to be close to it? (This is probably the first and last time I am going to take issue with this. The show doesn't lean on it that heavy so, fine.) It's okay show. He can just be Special Fire Boy. He's Pyro. It's fine.

BUT ALSO, we're being told this because the show thinks I care (I do care about the glove detail in that it is relevant quickly, and then the fact that he can't MAKE the fire is relevant in God's Special Angel, episode 15) HOWEVER the FRAME of the question is asked by one of his own men.

It's the little one, I don't know what his name is. (these are the japanese subtitles. The whole reason I'm not liveblogging the dub is that the dub doesn't have subtitles. Annoying, in many respects. I would even have bought the DVDs if I could get them but NOPE)

and the response is

We see in episode 5 that not only is Roy not immune to using it on people casually, but also, and this is where I personally think he would have seen it, he is happy to use at a way to mark irritation, on the phone with Hughes. How new is this guy? That's not a criticism, it's a legit question! NOT TO BE ANSWERED OF COURSE I AM ASKING THE AIR ITSELF. I do not think that Roy spends a lot of time being humble with his fucking skills. He wears his gloves pretty often.

I am curious about the assemblage of this little unit of his.

Also I love how he basically just dramatically walks around the pitch for this entire fight. Man is not raising his heartbeat. He will not do cardio.

BUT ALSO BUT ALSO. I found support for my thought that he was fucking. Bluffing. with Scar. HE DOES IT HERE.

The dub sells this better, he goes something like, 'cmon the fuhrer knows it wouldn't be fair with me against the kid, I'd love to show off my valor, but he'll never allow it" BUT HE BLUFFS ED BECAUSE HE THINKS HE WON'T CATCH THE CAR (bonus to Hawkeye in the back, imagining herself somewhere else. The range perhaps)

Roy DOES have a reputation that precedes him, genuinely. He can fucking Wreck House. And sometimes a reputation can be its own form of conflict deescalation. "Hi, I'm the fucking Flame Alchemist" DOES have some weight behind it. It just does not dissuade Scar, even not knowing that the rain is going to fuck Roy up (but Hawkeye knows and also can read the room and is like, "hello. May I interest you in the fact that Scar is out of his mind? No. Well, we'll do it the hard way.")

I HJAVE NOT SEEN PAST 17 POLESE PLESAE PLEASE PLEASE NO SPOILERS OR ANYTHINGNGGGGG

*Hawkeye is in the hallway later, arms crossed, Hughes all, 'You look soooooo pretty and I'm buying the first round."

**Do you remember how mad at me that guy got for being like, "Alchemy is just magic lol"? It's so funny to me that now 17 episodes in so far as I can tell it being magic or science has FUCK ALL to do with any theme it's presented other than Ed being a Reddit Atheist at Rose. Why did that guy care so much? Amazing.

[schrijverr]

Hey There, Handsome

Diverges from chapter 13 to 17, wherein Buck and Eddie get together before Eddie accepts Bobby’s offer to join the 118, so he ends up at the 136 instead. When encountering each other on calls, they can’t help but flirt with each other. Only one small problem: Buck still hasn’t told anyone he’s married, let alone that he is dating Eddie, and Eddie told everyone he’s married, but forgot to mention he is married to Buck.

On ao3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: misunderstandings

~~~

“Really?” Eddie scoffs, the offers he’d received forgotten on the coffee table between them. “You didn’t mention either of us for a whole year? What? Are you embarrassed of Chris, is that it? Did you not want to share with your coworkers that you had a disabled kid or something?”

“What the fuck, Eddie. Of course not,” Buck swears. “I can’t believe you’d think that of me, I love that kid to death.”

“Yeah and not even mentioning he exists at work really shows that, huh?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand!”

“I’m in love with you,” Buck explodes, barely aware of the waterfall of words cascading out of his mouth. “I’m fucking in love with you and you’re going to leave me and I’ll have nothing. No Chris, no you, no family. All I’ll have is work and I didn’t want to have that be a place where I lost you too.”

Eddie gapes at him for a moment, words processing. Carefully he reaches out, breathing: “...Buck.”

“No,” Buck prevents him from talking, batting his hand away. “I don’t- You don’t have to say it. I know, okay. It’s just convenience. That was always the deal, I know what I agreed to. Just... just let me mourn it in pe-”

Buck can’t finish the sentence, because Eddie is kissing him. It takes a second before his brain catches up to the fact that, holy shit, Eddie is kissing him! And he can kiss back.

When they pull apart, Buck stares at Eddie dumbfounded, only managing a: “Wha?”

“You’re not going to lose me. Or Chris. Ever,” Eddie tells him, cheeks burning but eye fierce.

“Since- since when-” Buck stutters, still processing.

Eddie looks to the floor and softly answers: “Uhm, just- just now. Is- is that okay?” he asks tentatively looking up at Buck through his lashes.

Heart melting at the sight, Buck cups Eddie cheek, replying with a hushed whisper: “As long as you mean it.”

“I mean it,” Eddie promises, those wide beautiful brown cow eyes looking at Buck so sincerely that it knocks the breath out of him. What else is he supposed to do, other than kiss him again?

It’s not until much later that Buck suddenly says: “You can’t work at the 118.”

“Huh? Why not?” Eddie asks, clearly a little hurt by the declaration.

Quickly, Buck explains: “They don’t want married couples or romances in the same firehouse during a probie year. Messes with training and liability or something. You can’t say yes to Bobby. Did you already?”

“No, no, I was still going between the 118 and the 136,” Eddie replies, relieved that Buck had a reason other than just straight up not wanting to work together.

“136 it is, then?”

“I guess, it is.”

When Eddie’s first day comes, he’s nervous. One of the things that appealed to him so much about the 118 is that Buck would be there, something that makes a lot more sense now, but still. He doesn’t like that he’ll be surrounded by strangers.

Eddie feels much better in his own skin after figuring out that he’s gay, which makes him more comfortable with socializing, since he’s not keeping up a mask. However, he is still getting used to the idea as well.

Buck is so patient and kind about it and Eddie loves him a lot, but it is still weird to go to work as what feels like a different person. And to be alone is not making matters better.

However, Eddie has showed up new at many job sites before and while he thinks – more like hopes – that this one is more permanent and one he actually wants to have, it’s not too different. So with a bit of nerves, but a lot of determination, Eddie walks into his first shift.

Captain Cooper, or Ronnie as he asks to be called, is friendly and welcoming. He introduces him to everyone there, ending up with two women. He says: “This is Bosko and that’s Daisy. They’re our main rescue specialists and you’ll be sticking with them for most of your time here. Bosko, give Eddie here the tour of the house?”

“Will do, Ronnie,” the one introduced as Bosko says, before shaking Eddie’s hand. “Good to meet you, Diaz. Welcome aboard.”

“Good to meet you too,” Eddie greets back, doing the same for Daisy.

It’s a little awkward at first, since Bosko and Daisy have clearly been partners for years and seem to take great joy in arguing with each other about everything, leaving Eddie hovering next to them. But once he gets a bit more comfortable, he finds that his own tendency to throw in somewhat bitchy comments gets him in.

So, by the time he been working there for three weeks, he feels fully integrated. He’s still not sharing a lot of personal stuff, since he has never liked putting himself on display like that.

As much as he likes all these people, Eddie has been judged all his life. He’s been judged by his parents for things he couldn’t help, judged for getting Shannon pregnant, judged for how Chris was born, judged for accepting Buck’s help, and he’ll probably get judged for loving Buck too. Maybe not by these people, but definitely when his parents find out. So, yeah, he’s cautious about sharing.

Which means, Eddie has no clue what he’s doing when they pull up to a big rescue to find a firetruck with 118 scrawled across it on a day he knows that Buck is also working.

He decides to just act normal and professional, because they’re here to work. This gets thrown out the window when they go to talk with what must be Bobby, who is in charge of the operation. He says: “My medics are busy and I’m doing coordination down here. I need someone to go up with my guy.”

“Eddie here doesn’t have a usual partner yet. He’ll go with your guy,” Ronnie says, pointing at Eddie when he does.

Bobby seems to be oblivious, just calling over his guy, who turns out to be Eddie’s husband. “Buck, you’re taking Eddie here with you. Stay in touch, don’t be reckless.”

Buck sees Eddie and lights up, making Eddie blush as he waves awkwardly at Buck, feeling caught between delighted at seeing Buck and wanting to be seen as professional. Buck has no such issues, because he winks at Eddie and says: “Hey there, handsome. Ready to get to work?”

“Uhm yeah, I- I am,” Eddie stammers, because he’s still not used to being flirted with by Buck like that, nor letting himself be normal about it.

Of course, Buck knows that, so his grin is undeterred. “Good to hear. Don’t be nervous, you’re in very talented hands.” And then he winks again, because he wants Eddie dead.

Trying to stomp down the blush, Eddie throws back: “Are you allowed to say that at work, Firefighter Buckley?”

This does nothing to discourage Buck’s grin, in fact, it only widens. “Whatever do you mean, Firefighter Diaz? I’m just assuring you I know how to do my job.”

They both know that was not what he was doing. However, before Eddie can reply, Bobby calls out to them: “Buck, stop flirting and start climbing,” so he snaps his mouth closed.

“Yes, Cap,” Buck says as he throws up a cheeky salute, before pivoting to the ladder truck.

Eddie hurries after him, even more embarrassed now that Bobby commented on them. And he lightly shoves Buck when he lets him go first onto the ladder with a salacious wink.

The roof of a high rise collapsed, so they’re trying to tend to the wounded, get any rubble up there stabilized so it won’t fall, and help those trapped on the upper floors escape. Him and Buck are getting a young couple out of their apartment.

While working the two of them snap into professionalism. Sure, they’re excited to see each other, but they have work to do and they’re going to do it.

As Eddie expected when he was still contemplating taking Bobby up on his offer, him and Buck work very well together. And while he loves that he gets to have Buck as his husband and that is definitely better, he does mourn the fact that they’re not coworkers, because working with Buck is amazing. He might look into transferring after his probie year, even if he does like he own coworkers.

He likes his coworkers less when he gets down with the rescued people and directs them to where they can get checked out by medics. At which point, he is intercepted by Bosko, who grins: “So, were Buckley’s hands talented up there, Diaz?”

“Don’t you have walls to secure,” he grouses, red on his cheeks.

Bosko just cackles, grabbing the strap of Eddie’s helmet and playfully shaking his noggin. Eddie supposes it’s better than her pinching her cheek or something, but he still glares at her while he bats her hand away.

“Everything okay here?” Buck asks, coming down after him.

“’s fine,” Eddie says, making a face at her to shut the fuck up.

He’s not sure it’s better when she listens and just smiles innocently at Buck and says: “Oh yeah, Eddie is very, very fine. But you two are going to have to say bye, we need Diaz here.”

Bosko pulls Eddie away and as Eddie stumbles after her, Buck gives him a big wave, calling out: “See you around, Eddie!”

“Uh, yeah, see you!” Eddie calls back, unable to stop the grin, even if he wants to disappear into the ground a little as well.

There’s indeed a three person job with a precarious bit of wall that they need him for. Daisy clearly lost rock, paper, scissors, since she’s manning the winch, instead of going down with Eddie, who is still too probie to be trusted with that.

As they connect their harnesses, Bosko comments: “You certainly impressed Buckley with your firefighting, ey, Diaz.”

“Shut up,” Eddie mutters. “He’s not impressed with my firefighting.”

“Nah, probably not, no,” Bosko laughs.

“Wait, what happened?” Daisy asks.

“Diaz here got hit on by Buckley from the 118,” Bosko answers, before Eddie can.

“Buck was just messing around. It’s not that interesting,” Eddie adds, desperate to get them to stop talking about it. He’s only just getting integrated into this house, he doesn’t need to destroy his credibility by getting flustered over his own husband flirting with him on the job.

“Oh,” Daisy says, tone indicating she doesn’t believe Eddie in the slightest and is instead joining Bosko in teasing him.

“Both of you can fuck off,” Eddie grouches, deciding that he’s harnessed in enough and will just escape over the side of the building to force them into being professional.

Fortunately, they do drop it for the time the rest of the time they’re at the scene and he doesn’t run into Buck again, so there is no new fuel to add to the fire. Afterwards, he gets a few joking ‘loverboy’s but when he responds with nothing other than an eye roll, the teasing slowly dies down.

~

Bosko hadn’t been sure about Eddie when he got introduced. The 136 is a great place to work and Ronnie is the best Captain anyone could ask for, but she is not oblivious to the wider LAFD culture, or first responder culture as a whole. It’s still a male dominated, tough guy field.

So, while she isn’t going to be an asshole to him, she is going to keep an eye on him.

When Eddie has gone a few weeks without intentionally or unintentionally making shitty comments about any of the women there, nor Bosko mentioning her girlfriend, she lets some of her caution go. It is not until the call with the collapsed roof, however, that she drops it fully.

She hadn’t expected a lot out of that call, if she is honest. Just a normal work day with another firehouse they ran into from time to time. Not close with the people there, but aware enough to know they exist and kind of who they are.

What she definitely hadn’t expected was Eddie getting flirted with shamelessly by Buckley. Nor for Eddie to react to that flirting with what can only be described as ‘into it embarrassment.’ Which she can relate to, because if she was into that, she would also be embarrassed.

However, despite his embarrassment, Eddie is a good sport about her and Daisy’s teasing and while he doesn’t comment more on it, she knows he’s one of them. Going off his deflections, he doesn’t want to talk about it, so she doesn’t push, but it is a catalyst for their friendship.

They get along and it’s fun. Eddie can be a real bitch about things and he’s petty too. Teaming up with him against Daisy is great… though the two of them teaming up against her is less great.

On top of that, they also work well together and Eddie’s presence is a solid one to have aboard. He keeps his head cool… most of the time. An exception is when they run into the 118, something that barely seemed to happen before, but now happens with a startling regularity. Though, maybe they used to before, but she just didn’t notice, because none of her coworkers became blush-y after being flirted with in the absolutely most corniest way.

It’s truly embarrassing for Eddie.

Especially, because he never knows how to respond. He seems caught between wanting to reply, but also being too flustered and trying too hard to be a professional to do so. And he gets so grumpy when you point it out. It’s hilarious.

However, despite always being flustered about it, she has to hand it to him, most of the time, Eddie does manage a reply that could be interpreted as flirting back. So at least he’s trying. Though, it is very sad to watch and she is taking none of his dating advice when this is all he can manage for himself.

~

Buck is having a great time. He’s dating Eddie – married to him, but that was already the case – and is permanently assured of his spot in this family he has. He gets to be Chris’s dad forever! And on top of that, work is fun. He even gets to run into Eddie while working now. And flirt with him!

The only snag is that he still hasn’t mentioned any of these developments at work. The others have caught onto the fact that he’s in a better mood, but telling them why he’s in a better mood is a little difficult.

It’s not that Buck isn’t thrilled about it all. In fact, he’d love nothing more than to scream it all from the rooftops. However, it’s just embarrassing, really.

I mean, he didn’t mention any of this for a whole year at this point, because he was too insecure about it and didn’t talk to Eddie about any of that once during that time. And then he’ll have to explain that to his friends, who already think him a bit of a frat bro, on top of explaining all the sleeping around and, no, really you guys, I’m mature enough to raise a kid, I swear.

So, yeah, he hasn’t gotten around to mentioning it yet…

Which he kind of forgets the first time they run into Eddie, because it’s Eddie! Of course he’s going to be excited about seeing him and of course he’s going to flirt with him. That is his husband! And he looks sexy as hell as a firefighter and when he blushes.

It’s not until they’re back in the rig again and Bobby says: “Should we all brace ourselves for another round of Buck 1.0 or can I trust you to be professional?” that Buck remembers.

Here Buck is at a cross road: He can either clear it up now and face that embarrassment, or deflect and live in blissful ignorance of his lie that has long since spiraled out of control.

And because he is tragically himself, he decides to be a dumbass and say: “I’ll be professional, Cap. No sleeping on the job or anything. Didn’t even ask his number. Just harmless flirting.”

Bobby hums, giving him a look, before he sighs: “Alright, as long as it sticks to flirting.”

“Will do, Cap,” Buck promises, knowing that it is a lie, because after this shift, he is going home to Eddie and making them family dinner after they will sleep in the same bed in the house that they bought together and where they are raising a child with one another… He’s pretty sure that constitutes as doing more than sticking to flirting.

But he has made his choice now. It’ll be even more embarrassing to go back on his story after this, he’s already the immature baby of the team. No need to encourage that by being a liar.

Fuck.

So, yeah. That’s how it kind of starts for him.

They keep running into Eddie at calls and Buck is excited every time. Working with Eddie almost makes him wish they’d lied, just so they could, even though that wouldn’t be smart. He is glad Eddie likes his coworkers, even though he secretly hopes that once Eddie’s probie year is over, he’ll consider transferring.

However, that will mean having to explain everything and being professional every day, while being so close to Eddie. So for the time being, Buck will take the permission to flirt and shamelessly do so whenever they meet.

It’s just so fun to make Eddie flustered. Eddie can be so serious sometimes – and Buck loves that about him – but as his husband, it’s his sacred duty to get Eddie to loosen up and have fun. If he could do it in El Paso under the shadow of Helena and Ramon, then he should be able to do it here. And this is definitely his favorite way.

After the fourth time, he comes home to Eddie pouting. “Hi, baby,” Buck greets him, kissing him, before pulling back to go putter about and make a snack or something. “Good day at work?”

“You’re embarrassing me,” Eddie pouts harder, getting off the couch to trail after Buck. “You keep flirting every time we see each other and my coworkers are making fun of me.”

“Ahw, but you’re so cute when you blush,” Buck grins, turning around to pinch Eddie’s cheeks – which are again flushed – as he does. Then more seriously he says: “But I’ll stop if you don’t like it, Eddie. I am just having fun, but I don’t actually want to make you uncomfortable.”

Eddie is quiet at that, hemming and hawing for a moment as Buck waits patiently. Eddie isn’t the best at expressing himself most of the time and it’s even worse when it’s about feelings, but this is important and he knows Eddie can do it if you give him a little time.

“It’s okay,” Eddie finally sulks.

“Is it?” Buck checks, because Eddie doesn’t sound too enthusiastic.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, then embarrassed he admits: “I like it.”

“Ah-ha! Knew it,” Buck grins. “You’re cute.”

“Shut up!” Eddie sulks again. “You’re mean.”

“How am I mean?” Buck asks, knowing it’s more of a challenge when it’s with Eddie.

“You keep making me blush and you know it,” Eddie accuses. “You’re doing it on purpose, because you like tripping me up.”

“Maybe if you didn’t get tripped up so easily, it wouldn’t be as fun,” Buck shrugs with a smirk, knowing that petty and competitive as Eddie is, this will come back to bite him.

“I’ll show you fun,” Eddie replies semi-nonsensically, before kissing Buck, after which the conversation goes mostly forgotten in the face of some steamy banter sex.

However, as Buck predicted – even if he half forgot about it – that conversation would come back to bite him, because Eddie did not forget and Eddie is indeed competitive and petty. So he is preparing himself for the next time they run into each other.

It’s at a large fire where Eddie has responded first. By this point, his Captain probably knows who Buck is just like Bobby knows who Eddie is, because when they get there, he calls out: “Eddie, go help Buckley.”

Eddie had been helping medical, but with more paramedics on the scene, it would be better for him to go fight the actual fire. He looks up and spots Buck, smiling at him as he starts coming over, calling back to Ronnie. “Yes, sir.”

“Hiya there, handsome,” Buck greets him, already pulling on the hose. “Ready to help with my hose,” which is probably one of his worst lines to date.

After blushing and stumbling a little, however, Eddie squares his shoulder and cocks his hip. “That depends, Buckley, think you can handle my help?”

It takes a moment for the words to land, then Buck blinks, before a flush spreads over his cheeks as he gapes at Eddie for a moment.

“Come on, hot stuff,” Eddie grins, a proud little look on his face as he claps Buck’s back, before grabbing the hose to help. “People to save.”

“Uh, yeah, no,” Buck says, snapping back into work, even if he has to process this new dynamic.

And he gets a new understanding for what Eddie was sulking about once the fire is out and everyone at the 118 is in the back of the rig teasing him. They’re tired and sooty, but Buck doesn’t get to catch his breath, because when he gets in Chimney is there with a stupid grin on his face, wiggling his brows as he asks: “Hey hot stuff, did Eddie help you with that hose.”

“Oh shut up,” Buck groans. “You were busy being a medic, how did you even catch that?”

“Eyes and ears everywhere,” Chimney replies, going for mysterious.

Which is ruined by Hen, who says: “Logan from the 136 heard and told us. First time Eddie flirted back like that, huh? You look like a tomato right now.”

“I have fair skin, you can’t hold that against me,” Buck complains. “And the fire was hot.”

“Not the only thing that was hot,” Chimney jokes.

As next to him, Hen snorts: “After being stuck with your horny ass, we have all the rights we want, Buckley.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that bad!” Buck says, even though he can acknowledge he kind of was. “Besides, I haven’t flirted with anyone – except Eddie – in months. I’ve been totally mature and professional.”

A round of agreeable noises goes through the rig, because Buck hasn’t been flirting or sleeping around, especially not on the job. He stopped that the moment he got nearly fired over it, because he was never going to endanger Chris’s life like that. Having Eddie for real is only the final nail in the coffin for that, hence the only flirting with Eddie. I mean, Buck has him, he would be utterly stupid to ever have eyes for anyone else. Have you seen him?

“You’ve been doing a great job,” Bobby says, which shouldn’t make Buck as happy as it does, but he can’t help it.

“Thank you, Cap!” he smiles.

“But if you really like this Eddie, then you don’t have to stop yourself from asking him out just because you made a promise to me about sticking to flirting. As long as you keep it in your private time, you are more than allowed to date him.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Buck stumbles, suddenly unsure what to do now, because it is really nice that Bobby won’t hold him to that promise now that Buck seems to be serious about Eddie, which he is, very much. And if Buck hadn’t been in way too deep, he would be bouncing in his seat right now.

For a moment, he considers going along with it and pretending that he asked Eddie out and slowly working up to introducing Eddie like that. But even he can recognize that is an insane thing to do and Eddie will probably smack him if Buck forces him to go along with that, because he is too embarrassed to tell his coworkers he lied.

So instead he goes: “But I- uh, I’ll stick with flirting for now, I think.”

Now everyone is looking at him weirdly and Buck shrinks under their eyes. Chimney speaks first, doing a double take as he says: “Wait, did I hear that right or is Buck hesitant to ask someone out?”

“Wow, you must really like this guy,” Hen adds.

Now Buck is blushing again and shrinking down even further into his seat. Because they’re not wrong, he really, really likes this guy and he is very transparent about it, but now he can feel the weight of his own bad choices press down on him, as he both feels very exposed and somewhat embarrassed.

“Hey, let’s get off the kid,” Bobby steps in for him. “Who Buck asks out or doesn’t ask out is his own business. If he doesn’t want to discuss it, it’s off topic.”

Which should be that… and it is, until they run into Eddie again.

Eddie seems determined to prove to Buck that he can trip Buck up right back at him and Buck is a weak man, who likes flirting with Eddie, so it’s not as if he is discouraging this behavior in any way, shape or form. So the two of them continue their flirting banter every time their calls overlap.

However, now Buck has the added experience of Chimney and Hen making faces at him to convince him to make a move and prodding him to ask Eddie out… his own husband.

Buck is very much regretting the hole he’s dug for himself, but he hasn’t really figured out how to get himself out of it yet either.

~

When Eddie finally starts doing something other than blush and stumble over himself whenever Buck flirts with him, Bosko is very proud of him. It was honestly getting very embarrassing for Eddie and painful to watch, so seeing him actually undertake action is a relief for all of them, even if Eddie is still bright red whenever he does it.

And it’s kind of funny to watch Buck get tripped up. She doesn’t know if it’s true, but she vaguely heard of him stealing a firetruck to go sleep with some girl and he has frat boy vibes out the wazoo. So, her and Daisy get some amusement out of him getting flustered by Eddie’s horrible lines and half-flirting insults.

It starts to get less fun for everyone, though, a few encounters with Buck in.

They’re hanging around the firehouse between calls when Eddie’s phone starts to ring. He checks the caller ID, then quickly picks up: “Hey, mijo, is everything okay? Why are you calling?”

All of them share looks and tilt to listen in, since Eddie walks a few paces, but not enough to truly have a private conversation. So they’re all curious to hear what is happening, since despite getting to know his personality, they don’t know much about Eddie’s personal life.

Bosko is pretty sure mijo is Spanish for boy or something and endearing, so she assumes it is a child. Is Eddie speaking to a kid? Does he have a kid?

“Buddy, you said you checked your bag this morning before drop off,” Eddie responds. He is definitely talking to his own kid. Okay, so that is new information. Eddie is a father.

“I’m at work right now, do you want to call papi yourself or do you want me to call him?” Eddie asks, more new information. What the fuck.

Papi implies a co-parent. Now, Bosko is aware that there are many ways to co-parent that do not need to involve being in a relationship with that person, so it doesn’t have to be fucked up that Eddie is flirting with Buck this heavily every time, but they’re all on high alert, especially when Eddie proceeds to say: “Okay, then I’ll call him. Have a good rest of your day, yeah? I love you.”

At this point, they’re all sharing looks and are turned to watch Eddie’s back and just blatantly following along as Eddie dials whoever papi might be.

A sinking pit appears in Bosko’s stomach when Eddie greets the person on the other side of the line with a bright smile and a: “Hi, mi amor. How’s the day off? Yeah, no, everything’s fine here. Chris forgot his lunch and called me, so I’m calling to ask you to bring it to him.”

She knew she shouldn’t have trusted Eddie to be a decent guy so quickly. Him being private was shifty as fuck and now he’s falling short by talking to this man he is raising a child with all happy and love-y dove-y, while also flirting with Buck on the side.

Bosko doesn’t know why she is this disappointed in him. Maybe because she didn’t see it coming and she is usually a great judge of character. Maybe because she should have known better, but she didn’t this time.

Either way, she can feel her face harden as she listens to Eddie say bye: “You’re the best. Give Chris a hug from me when you go. Love you.”

Eddie hangs up the phone, turning back around and pausing when he sees everyone looking at him. He rubs the back of his head, looking a little embarrassed – probably feeling caught, Bosko thinks bitterly – and goes: “Oh, uh, hey.”

Daisy, while the more rambunctious between them, is also the more gentle one. So she says: “I didn’t know you had a family, Diaz,” while Bosko just mean mugs him a little.

At the words, Eddie smiles brightly, seeming oblivious to the undertone. “Yeah, I do. I got very lucky with them.”

Trying to fish for more, Logan goes: “So already school age, huh?”

“Yeah, Chris is seven right now,” Eddie says. “Time just flies by. I swear he was a baby yesterday.”

“How long you been married?” Daisy prods a little more.

Eddie thinks for a moment, then blows out a whistle: “Oh, a little over two years now. That’s wild.”

Fucking hell, this guy fucking sucks, Bosko says to herself. He doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s doing is bad. That if he has a husband and a child at home, maybe he shouldn’t be flaunting the way he flirts with someone else at work. I mean, he shouldn’t be doing that at all, but to not even realize or care he’s doing it in front of other people is wild.

They’re all quiet for a moment, leaving Eddie standing there, beginning to sense that something is up, but clearly unable to come up with what might be the issue. He shrinks into himself, then clears his throat, muttering something about coffee, before walking off.

Later, he’s working out downstairs, having evaded the loft a little after that debacle. Bosko is determined to ignore him as she works out, but Daisy has other ideas. While spotting Eddie, she asks: “So what’s up with the flirting with Buck?”

Eddie looks embarrassed – as he should be, in fact, he should be more ashamed – and says: “Oh, it’s- it’s a joke, really.”

“A joke?” Daisy repeats, somewhat disbelieving.

“Yeah,” Eddie says then explains: “It’s not serious, just a thing we do. Buck thinks he’s hilarious with those lines tripping me up and I can’t just let him win. It’s just funny and competitive. Buck knows that too.”

“Buck knows it’s a joke?” Daisy asks sharply, looking over to Bosko as if to ask ‘do you hear this guy?’ a sentiment that is very much returned.

“Of course,” Eddie scoffs, like that is a given.

Both Daisy and Bosko very much doubt that Buck knows that Eddie isn’t seriously flirting with him, but seeing their banter as some sort of weird dude-bro challenge instead. Bosko takes a breath to say as much to him, but a look from Daisy stops her.

When they’re alone together, Bosko demands: “Why are we not telling Eddie that he shouldn’t be playing with Buck like that or flirting with another man when he’s fucking married?”

“Look, I’m not saying it’s good,” Daisy says, “but he looks to really believe it. I miss half of the shit they say to each other and it’s not like I pay attention to Buck. Maybe he wasn’t lying.”

Bosko is quiet for a moment as she thinks on it. She is skeptical about the whole thing, but she has to admit that Daisy is right about Eddie seeming genuine about it. However, he seemed genuine about a lot of things and Bosko is still feeling a bit tender about the betrayal.

“Fine,” she finally says. “I’m giving him one more chance, then I’m confronting him if he’s talking out of his ass.”

“Deal.”

The next time they run into the 118 on a call, both Daisy and Bosko keep a much closer eye on Buck and Eddie. Something that is made easier by Buck joining the three of them so they’re with four to stabilize one of the cars – a minivan really – in this pile up, which is hanging over the edge, and rescue the passengers.

While the two are professional in the face of it all and do nothing that would intervene with the serious and important work they’re doing, they are also horrible about each other. At one point Buck tugs on Eddie’s harness and winks: “This looks sturdy.”

That makes Eddie a complete tomato, even when he valiantly tries: “Safety is important, you know.”

Buck laughs loudly at that, his eyes sparkling as he shakes his head with delight and says: “You’re truly something, sweetheart.”

“I try,” Eddie shrugs.

Behind them, Daisy and Bosko share a look; that is very much not a joke and Buck definitely does not know that Eddie has tricked himself into thinking it is. And Bosko is very annoyed that Eddie gets put on the medical team and they run overtime, so he’s already gone in the chaos, before she can confront him about it.

She contemplates confronting him in her free time, but that would involve setting aside time away from Mayo and Butter or Heather, her girlfriend. It’s already feeling like her and Heather are at a rocky patch they might not get through and she is trying.

So, it’s not until next the shift they’re working together that she gets her moment.

They’re all hanging around in the loft, preparing dinner and bitching over the fact that they have a 24 hour shift that starts in the evening when Eddie comes up to join them. Before he’s even at the table, Bosko says: “Oi, Diaz. You fucking need to stop flirting with Buckley.”

“What? Why?” Eddie responds, so genuinely confused that she wonders if he is really so shitty that he is too stupid to realize he’s shitty, or that he is just a good actor.

“Eddie,” she says slowly. She hasn’t used his first name much before this moment, but this is important. “You’re married.”

“Yeah… I know?” Eddie says, looking at her like she’s the one who is stupid.

Bosko can see Logan and Robin giving each other a look and Daisy is making her jikes face. At least she is going to have back up at whatever Eddie’s reaction to this is going to be, she thinks to herself, before saying: “Don’t you realize it’s super fucked up to keep flirting with him when you literally have a family?”

Eddie blinks, then blinks again, before his eyes go wide and he makes an ‘o’ face. The point has landed in his brain. Fucking finally. Then he hits them with: “Oh, no, I- I’m married to Buck.”

“Excuse me, fucking what?”

“Yeah, uh, Buck is my husband,” Eddie explains, looking like he wants to sink into the ground at the realization that they didn’t know that and what they thought they were watching. “When I said the flirting was a joke, I meant that he is doing it to mess with me, so I mess with him, because it’s fun when we run into each other. Not- not like I was just doing it to stranger because I thought it was funny or something. Fuck no. Is that what you thought?”

“Uh, a little,” Bosko admits, still trying to process this, because holy shit, Eddie is married to Buck, that both doesn’t make any sense and so much sense at the same time.

“Wait, but didn’t Buck get nearly fired for sleeping around on the job?” Logan says. “Are you two sure you’re okay?”

At that, Eddie impossibly becomes more red and he says: “Oh… that, uhm, yeah, so funny story,” before proceeding to tell the most unhinged story Bosko has ever heard – and she has a colorful dating history – over dinner.

Afterwards, they hang around the TV, none of them seeing any of it, because they’re all still processing the fact that Eddie hasn’t been trying to cheat on his husband and famous fuck boy Buck has been married this whole time. The only saving grace is that Eddie also has to sit with the knowledge that for the past few weeks they all thought he was being an asshole.

They’re all grateful to get a call, even if it’s a late night one, because all of them need the distraction to find some semblance of normal.

Finding a normal works for the night, but is hard to maintain when they’re hit by an earthquake in the morning. It’s a big one, bigger than Bosko has ever experienced before and they know it’s going to be a rough day today.

All of them rush out into their gear, before tearing out of the firehouse to their place in this disaster zone; a precarious, half collapsing high rise.

As they drive away, they can see that a tree has fallen over in the parking lot. No cars look to have been hit, but four of them are definitely blocked in. Getting home is going to be a bitch after this shift.

Throughout the drive, Eddie is busy jabbing at his phone, worried look on his face. Bosko kicks his foot, getting him to look up: “You good, Diaz?”

Eddie hesitates then says: “There’s no service. Messages won’t even get through.”

Bosko understands the fear, it always sucks to be out there, not knowing what is going on with loved ones. She hopes that Heather is okay, as well as Butter and Mayo. “Yeah, that sucks. Everything’s going to be down today, but you gotta focus on who we’re here for. Can’t do anything about anyone else right now.”

The words are probably not the most comforting or what Eddie wants to hear, but Bosko isn’t here to comfort Eddie. He can’t sink away in that shit, they have their job to do and people to save. Eddie will just have to be worried later.

Buck must disagree – because of course the 118 is responding to their call – since she when she passes them while they’re readying the ladder truck, she can hear Buck say: “Chris is going to be fine, Eddie. I know it’s scary, but schools are one of the safest places to be during an earthquake. After Northridge, FEMA spent $200 million retrofitting every school in the LAUSD. Ceiling tiles, lighting fixtures, everything. Trust me, I had that same spiral.”

Which granted is a better thing to say, but it’s not like Bosko knew any of that and she hadn’t considered who he’d be worried about.

After that, she loses track of Eddie in the chaos of the disaster. He’s up there doing his thing, she is busy with making sure everyone is getting out of that building and hoping to slow or even prevent the collapse.

She only sees him again at the end, when they’re all going back to the firehouse to get dismissed early and be replaced by a fresher force to take the further aftermath of this diaster. He comes up to Ronnie and asks: “Uh, Cap, would it be okay, if I asked if I can drive back with the 118 and toss my turnout gear in this rig?”

Ronnie pauses for a moment, clearly thinking through the logistics of it. Like everyone else, he saw the downed tree and knows they’re all going to need to figure out ride shares, having one less person there would be good and Eddie literally has his husband to ride with instead. So he checks: “You got nothing in your locker you need?”

“Nothing that can’t wait, sir. Got my phone and wallet on me,” Eddie says.

“Alright, then go. We’ll wait for a moment, radio if Nash green lights it,” Ronnie allows it.

“Thanks, Cap,” Eddie grins, quickly ridding himself of his turnout gear.

~

Hen doesn’t get why Buck won’t just ask Eddie out. He clearly likes the guy, since he is focusing all his flirting energy on him and gets flustered whenever Eddie throws a line back at him, not to mention that Eddie is clearly interested in Buck too. It’s basically a guaranteed date.

She is trying to respect the fact that Buck doesn’t want to, but that doesn’t stop her from being nosy. He is allowed not to ask Eddie out if he doesn’t want to and he just wants to flirt, but Hen wants to know why too.

He doesn’t even have to change anything or have a good reason, she is just curious, since it is different from how he behaved before.

Buck has never shied away from asking anyone out – she remembers the snake lady, okay – so it can’t be the circumstance in which he met Eddie, plus Bobby told him he could go for it and it wouldn’t be unprofessional, so that can’t be it either. And she refuses to believe that Buck doesn’t like Eddie and is just toying with him for some reason, that just isn’t who he is.

For a second she considers that maybe Buck is being weird about Eddie, because he asked him out and they’re dating but he is keeping it private. The second she thinks it, she has to snort, because oversharer Buck cannot keep a secret like that. That’s ridiculous.

So, they’re still working on the mystery when the earthquake hits.

During the workday, Hen doesn’t really see Eddie, since she nearly dies under that building and is cut off from everyone. However, she knows that him and Buck are out there somewhere, putting some poor civilian having the worst day of their life through their bullshit.

It’s not until she has been freed from her dusty collapsed building prison that she sees Eddie again. By this point, she is back in the rig, having been checked over by Chimney and declared okay. Something she told Bobby herself, but according to him she is stubborn about her own health and he didn’t trust her, which is rude.

However, like she said, she is okay and she is sitting in the rig, waiting for the others to come join. As they are about to leave, Eddie comes running up, his turnout gear nowhere to be found. He greets: “Hey, wait up. Oh, hi, Hen, how are you doing?”

“I’m good,” Hen says, confused about why Eddie is here and not with his own firehouse.

Fortunately, Eddie seems to have an answer for that unasked question, because he turns to Bobby and asks: “Can I ride back with you guys? Ronnie cleared it,” which while answering the unasked question, does not really explain or clarify anything.

“Uh, can I ask why?” Bobby replies, which is a valid question, because a firefighter riding with a different unit is definitely not standard and Ronnie clearing his probie to do so is strange.

“Oh, my car got blocked in by a tree, so I figured it would be easier, if I rode with you and caught a ride with Buck,” Eddie says.

Wait, a ride with Buck?

Hen whips her head around in Buck’s direction along with everyone else. Buck is at the other side of the rig, trying to make himself invisible. She realizes he’s been suspiciously quiet throughout this whole thing, instead of throwing out a flirting line about riding with them. What does he know?

It feels like answers to the Buck-Eddie dilemma are at her finger tips and she suddenly feels nervous to get them as she watches Buck unfurl a little and wave awkwardly at Eddie. “Uh, hi, baby.”

Baby?!?

“Huh, baby?” Chimney manages to actually verbalize it. “Since when is Eddie baby. You’ve been too much of a weirdo about him to actually ask him out.”

Buck looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole, something that is made worse by Eddie going: “Really, Buck? Still?”

“I didn’t know how to bring it up!” Buck exclaims, clearly trying to defend himself against whatever that accusation was.

Eddie rolls his eyes, then turns to everyone else and says: “I’m his husband. We still need to pick up Chris from school. Now can I ride with you? Ronnie is still waiting for me to radio it’s okay.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Bobby mutters, sounding a little shell shocked.

Hen meanwhile turns to Chimney saying: “Chim, I think I’m not fine, but concussed. You need to check me again, because I just heard Eddie call himself Buck’s husband.”

“Oh, no, I heard that too,” Chimney says, sounding equally out of it.

“Fuck off,” Buck complains, burying his red face in his hands. “I know, okay. No need to do all that.”

“Well, we didn’t fucking know, now did we, Bucko,” Chimney says. “When they fuck did you do that? Like husband? When did you get married? And a child? A school aged child? Where the fuck did he come from?”

“We’ve been married for a little over two years now,” Eddie says helpfully, having radioed Ronnie and now climbing into the rig with them, so they can go, managing to plop himself in the seat across from Buck and giving him a happy smile that is returned by Buck.

The others, however, are not happy smiling, because Buck has slept with half LA in that time. Which would have been fine, if he had not been married and hiding that fact.

“Two years?” Bobby repeats, sounding somewhat strangled.

At the tone, Buck’s eyes go wide and frantically waves his arms around. “But we only just got together, I swear. It wasn’t- It was okay. I- I haven’t been cheating on Eddie. We- It-”

“Oh, yeah, no, that. It was platonic before, I know Buck slept with other people,” Eddie says, quickly backing Buck up. Thank fuck.

“That- That’s good,” Chimney nods and Hen concurs.

“So when did you two get together?” Hen asks. “Please say it was before you two ran into each other on calls.”

“It was before we ran into each other on calls,” Buck assures her.

“Thank fuck.”

“Yeah, like a full week or so before that,” Eddie adds.

“Of course,” Hen sighs.

“Do I even want to ask how that happened,” Bobby says, rubbing his brow.

“Uh, yeah, we do,” Chimney replies, offended that’s even a question for Bobby. “You can’t just drop that on us and give us nothing. Come on, Buckley, spill.”

And Buck does. He is more the favorite oversharer they have come to love as he tells them how he ended up married to Eddie and a dad to Chris – because holy shit, Buck is a dad, that is fucking weird – which is such a Buck story, like this truly could have only happened to him.

Eddie adds his own bits here and there, but it’s mostly Buck telling the story, ending with: “Yeah, so that’s how we got together.”

“Wow,” Chimney whistles. “I don’t think I would have guessed any of that ever.”

“Yeah,” Hen agrees. Then curiously she asks: “Why didn’t you tell us about Eddie when you did get together? I get the not sharing before, but why not when we first asked you about him?”

“I got embarrassed,” Buck admits, becoming a little pink again at the reminder. “Like I had already lied to all of you and kind of made this person you knew and I didn’t really know how to come back from all this.”

“So your answer to that was to pretend to not want to date your husband?” Hen asks disbelievingly, because 1) what the fuck, and 2) did Buck really think he could have maintained that for the rest of their lives?

“Could be worse,” Eddie comments, having kept to the background for the most part, but seeming comfortable enough. Which makes sense, since he has apparently been hearing work stories about all of them for over a year now.

“How?” Chimney, asks, almost despairingly.

“The 136 thought I was toying with Buck and flirting with him as a joke, while also using it to semi-cheat on my husband I had at home,” Eddie says.

“What? When did you figure this out?” Buck asks.

“This shift,” Eddie admits. “Bosko confronted me about how shitty it was that I was still flirting with you and I needed to stop, because I have a family at home.”

“God, you two are fucking made for each other,” Hen mutters.

~~

A/N:

Please suspend your disbelief over the fact that there are many emergencies that need multiple firehouses to go there, it’s about vibes lmao

I think we can all agree that the first time they could have gotten their heads out of their asses was that fight about Buck not telling, right? Like if there was an earlier moment it could have happened, it would have been then.

Btw, yes, I am giving Eddie less internalized homophobia angst, because if you want that, you can read the main verse (in which I am now posting a sequel so go check that out!!!), we’re here for funny haha misunderstanding vibes xp

Embarrassed Eddie and flirting Buck isn’t a dynamic I considered a lot before I wrote ‘Pretty Boy Angel’ a while back and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. So, here I am doing it again, because we deserve it honestly. Make! That! Man! Flustered!

Also, this is also me experimenting with multiple POVs more clearly separated, since I am considering another AUAU where it’s important to follow more sides at the same time and it can get chaotic, so thoughts? Would it be better if I added [BLANK]’s POV on top of each bit, because I think that looks clunky, but if it would make it clearer then maybe it’s worth it?

[swetblom]

hii!! idk if you’re taking requests / ideas rn but i was wondering if u had any blurbs or anything in mind with brian and sugarcoat! reader? loved her introduction and needed to see more 💗

been gone for a while! had some crazy writers block but i can definitely give you something to build your little requests on!

you’re just as attentive as he is. he’s all quiet knowing—watches from afar and leaves sweet gifts you swear you only mentioned once. maybe not even out loud. you see every twitch, every uneasy shift when someone annoys him. the way his smile tightens when someone smiles too long at you. so, of course, you notice his behavior. a weird cut on his knuckle that he waves off—“cut myself at work,” he says. a night where he’s too still, too quiet, and you can feel the way he’s listening for the news to say something specific. that one time he forgot to hide the look in his eyes—that dead calm—when someone bumped into you too hard at a bar.

most would run, tell the cops. that’s a human feeling. but you? no. you don’t bat an eye when the rug in the hallway in front of your apartment door changes. gone one morning, replaced by a new one the next day. you just run your toes over the edge and say, “didn’t know you had opinions about rugs.” he shrugs, offers a short smile then presses a small kiss to your head to almost make it forget about it. not even when, you come home to a new lock on the door—one you didn’t ask for. one he never brings up. you notice, of course. not because you need a key but because the key for the new one was already hooked in placement on your keychain where the other one was before. you just kiss his cheek and say, “thinks that one’s sturdier.”

you’re simply too loyal to budge. the cat kind. you rub up against danger because it’s yours. you stay because it makes you feel alive. you like being chosen by someone who could break you, but doesn’t— and who might break others for you.

there’s one night—it’s a bad one. you can feel it the moment brian walks through the door. his body’s loose the way it gets when he’s keeping tension out of his voice. his smile is wrong—too soft at the corners, too much breath behind it. he tells you dinner smells good, kisses your cheek, lets you lean into him—but his eyes are elsewhere. you don’t ask. you never do.

you just tuck yourself into him while you eat, keep your voice low, soothing, all casual sweetness and laughter like sugar on your tongue. he doesn’t laugh, not really. just hums here and there.

later, in bed, the lights low, you both lie still—waiting for sleep to take over. “i miss you when you’re not here like this,” you say softly. you don’t look at him when you say it. not yet. you just keep tracing slow, lazy shapes on his chest with your nail. half-hearts, circles.

he’s silent. his glaze shifts from the ceiling fan above to you (the top of your head). trying to see if this is a trap. trying to figure out how much you know. “and what,” he says eventually, low and even, “do you think I’m doing when i’m not here?”

there’s no warmth in the question. no venom either. it’s the sound of a man preparing for loss. you shift to look at him and your eyes are so damn soft, it cracks him—a little.

“nothing i want you to explain,” you say, voice like a lullaby. “whatever it is, brian, I don’t care.” you smile, a little wicked. a little dreamy.

you move closer, mouth grazing the shell of his ear as you whisper: “you’re careful. you’re sweet to me. you love me the way i want to be loved. that’s all that matters.” then, quieter: “I don’t care what you do. just come back to me.” then you kiss his ear, right at the top, almost to seal it.

his hand, slides down your back and ghosts over your hips as you pull back to get a look at him. he’s chasing your eyes, trying to see if there is something malice— anything. but he fails. his breath shortens, he doesn’t know what it’s like to be chosen like this.

“you should care,” he says, calculated.

you shake your head, lips brushing his. “but i don’t. i chose you.” you kiss him softly, cupping his lips with yours.

the next night, he’s a little earlier then usual. you’re just happy to see him, he shrugs his jacket off and meets you at the couch. he flops down and instantly opens his arms to you which you happy move into, putting your legs over his. “not gonna shower?” you take him in as he looks at the tv in front of you. as your eyes meet his neck, you notice it—a faint spatter of something dark at the collar of his shirt. “not yet,” he replies, tugging your legs further up his legs. you tug at the hem of his shirt, “take this off.” he looks at you, slightly confused but sits up and lets you pull it over his head anyway.

“i smell that bad?” he grins. you shake your head and lift the shirt to show him the blood on the collar. without another word, you stand from the couch and walk to laundry room. he mentally scowls at himself. It’s not often he makes mistakes like that. he has to admit—he was distracted, still thinking about your voice from the night before. the way you said I chose you like it was simple. like it meant something permanent.

he hears the doors open of the washing machine open and close then start again before the pitter-patter of your feet come to him. you flop back onto the couch and curl right back up to him. he doesn’t say anything for a moment. just stares at you, his chest quiet, his eyes caught on your profile like you’re something unreal. “how lucky am i?” he questions to himself. “lucky as hell,” you smile, smashing your lips onto his.

[opiopal]

(Oh wowowow super long winded draft I totally forgot about.. have I proof read?? Kinda. But it’s late and I’m just tryna post some stuff, so here gang)

a hc that I have is that even when he isn’t around, mams is watching mc, how you may not be asking??? Birds!!

now I’m very sure this concept is not new to anyone at all, but I just wanna talk abt it anyways❤️

cause maybe the first time mc is given permission to go out alone, they are HYPED!! Finally, they could do some solo shopping, or maybe eat lunch without the bill giving them a heart attack, or go into a bookstore without experiencing the eternally burning rage of Satan bc someone is being a bit too loud, ect ect. they’re seriously excited and happy to be treated like an adult and not some toddler with the ability to form sentences. However as the hours go by they start to notice… crows off in the distance??? A lot of them actually.

but they try to ignore it, since they always see those silly little creatures hanging around anyways! Most of the time there’s a good few hanging out whenever mams was around, but of course it was obvious that those were just his familiars, since he’d occasionally shoo them, or accept a little shiny present from them, or give them a little treat. And of course they recognized a few, since the crows had clearly taken a liking to mc, and has even let them do small things like tying little ribbons around their legs or petting their small heads.(Mc definitely has a little shoe box full of gifts his familiars have given them)

any other time mc saw crows it was when they were out with someone else, but they only ever saw 4-5 during their time outside, so they ended up just assuming that crows were just the pigeons of devildom. Because there’s no way that every single crow they have ever seen was one of mams???

but even though they tell themselves that, for some reason something in the back of their head is telling them that’s not the case.. however they are DETERMINED to enjoy their unmonitored evening! They were only birds after all, birds are allowed to exist! so they go about their day, maybe they even end up buying a few things for the brothers while they’re out! And once they return home to a(very relieved) Luci, mams is very quick to nudge his older brother and make a comment about how he just knew mc would be fine out on their own, seeming very proud of mc. In fact, he was probably the most calm out of all of the brothers. To the point where it even shocked pretty much everyone.

so from then, since on mc has clearly proven that they can handle being out by themselves, mc is allowed to go out alone whenever they want(of course as long as they let everyone else know first.) Though one day, maybe something happened previously, drama at school or an argument between mc and one of the brothers. Whatever it was mc decided that they needed a walk around town alone to clear their head. Mammon really didn’t want them to be all alone at that moment, but he didn’t fight them much on it since they did really seem like they needed time alone.

so mc went out and mindlessly walked around, spacing out at the sidewalk in front of them, glancing up at store windows occasionally if something catches their eye. After a while they choose to sit down at a small café, maybe they get a small snack or a cup of tea, still a tad frustrated, until they see a little black blur in the corner of their eye. So they look down and spot a crow hopping around at their feet. they giggle a little and turn their attention down to the little fella… but they pause upon noticing a ribbon tied around its little ankle.

Without much hesitation, they pick up the crow and sets it in their lap. Seeing that the ribbon was something they most DEFINITELY put on the bird. frustration creeps in as they point a finger at the crow and mumble “now when you see mammon again tell him that he is NOT slick.” they shoo the crow away after successfully looking like a crazy person in public, and sit at the table to boil for a while.

Soon mc gets a few strings of texts from mammon, only reading a few before just turning off their D.D.D. Because they certainly don’t have a single nice thing to say. they seriously couldn’t BELIEVE him, well, they aren’t surprised. But they do feel slightly betrayed.

for a few days mc is very obviously angry at mammon, though they don’t ever tell the others why. Though they do shut down any assumptions that mammon stole from them or anything like that. and I would like to think that eventually mammon and mc have a heart to heart about the situation, which in the end Mc agreed that having some birds follow them around isn’t as bad as one of the seven rowdy demon lords.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 27 - Epic

@wolfstarmicrofic June 27, word count 797

Previous part First part

Remus didn’t say anything and followed Sir Sirius into the room. 

“I’ve ordered baths,” Sir Sirius told him as he unbuckled his belt and sword, laying them beside the bed carefully. He took off his boots, and Remus followed suit. He’d have been happy with a bucket and a rag to wash himself, but he also felt safer at Sirius’s side, so he didn’t argue. Someone knocked at the door and called out. 

“Your baths are ready, M’Lord,” 

“Excellent,” Sir Sirius beamed and opened the door. Remus followed him again, feeling somewhat like a stray puppy following its new master everywhere he went. 

The bath was beyond luxury. Matilda or her staff had taken extra time to ensure the water was the perfect temperature and scented with sprigs of lavender. Remus had never had such a decadent bath. He ran his fingers across the surface, watching the ripples spread out in their wake. He looked up when he heard water splashing. Sir Sirius had already stripped off and sunk beneath the warm water. Remus was suddenly nervous. He took his clothes off with his back turned to Sir Sirius. He dropped the filthy garments on the floor and grimaced. Maybe he should put them in the bath with him to clean them. 

“Leave them,” Sir Sirius ordered, glancing over at Remus. Remus felt his entire body tense as Sir Sirius’s eyes wandered up and down his thin body. “Hmm, my things might be a bit short on you, but they’ll have to do until we can get you some new things.” He turned his head away and closed his eyes, giving Remus the privacy he craved. Remus wasted no time and got into the wooden tub. It was heaven. 

They sat in silence for a while before Sirius broke the silence. “I’m bored, tell me a story about your life in the forest.” It wasn’t exactly an order, more of a request, but Remus didn’t have any good memories from the time he spent in the forest. He was either cold, hungry, wet or lonely. 

“I’m sure a retelling of one of your epic adventures would be far more interesting,” he said, hoping Sir Sirius wouldn’t push. Sir Sirius turned his head to look at him again, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinised Remus’s face. 

“Fine. I’ll tell you the one about the half-giant I befriended who somehow managed to find and hatch a dragon egg and nearly burnt down his wooden hut in the process.” 

Sirius’s tale enthralled Remus. He quite forgot he was in a bath and naked at all. It was only when a young maid came in to help them out of the baths that he remembered. 

Sir Sirius, of course, was attended to first, and Remus, not wanting to be a burden, began drying himself. He had nothing to wear but his old clothes, but when he walked around the bath to retrieve them, they were gone. He had no idea what to do. 

The maid came back with a robe and held it out to him. Quickly, he slid his arms into it and tied it shut. He followed her out and hurried back to their room. Sirius was already in bed, unclothed and stretched out. Remus looked around the room and decided the bit of floor under the window looked comfortable enough. He lay down and closed his eyes. “What are you doing?” Sir Sirius asked, sitting up now and looking at him, puzzled. When Remus didn’t answer, Sir Sirius rolled his eyes. “Get up here. This bed is big enough for two.” 

“Are you sure?” Remus asked. “M’Lord,” he tacked on at the end because he realised he hadn’t been addressing him correctly. 

“Get up here now,” Sirius ordered, and Remus scrambled up and got into the bed. He kept to the very edge and gave Sir Sirius the majority of the bed. But Sir Sirius wasn’t having any of that. He grabbed Remus and pulled him into the middle of the bed. “And don’t call me M’Lord, Sirius is just fine,”

“I-I-I can’t,” Remus stammered. 

“And why not?” Sirius asked, looking slightly angry. 

“Because you are a Lord, M’Lord, and it would be disrespectful not to address you properly.” Sirius heaved a great sigh. 

“Fine, you can address me as Sir Sirius when we are in company, no more of this M’Lord business and just Sirius when we are alone.”

“If that’s what you would like. Sirius,” Remus said, biting the inside of his cheeks to control the smile trying to creep across his face. 

“I’m going to regret taking you on, aren’t I?” Sirius said, barking out a laugh. 

“Oh, most definitely,” Remus snorted, and they fell asleep in the softest bed Remus had ever lain in. 

[darthwhorecrux]

@bleachsmutfest Day 6 Entry: Shinji Hirako x Reader x Kisuke Urahara Kinks & Tropes: Arranged Marriage x Threesome

TW: smut, a little angst, abuse and talks of abuse (it’s pretty mild, but pls pls pls don’t read if you’re not comfortable!), explicit language, alcohol, fem!reader, threesome, unprotected sex, face sitting, mirror sex

Others Notes / Summary: 15 K words, first person POV, as a noble woman, your marriage is arranged to a noble man, and a rather horrible one at that. With one night left until you’re forced to take his name, you intend to spend it your way after meeting two particularly interesting Soul Reapers. 

 ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You should be happy," my servant gushed as she brushed through my hair. "You're getting married!"

That word - marriage - brought me no happiness. What did marriage mean anyway? The one I headed for certainly had nothing to do with love, the love I so desperately tried to find. I could feel no excitement upon hearing the word, only fear. They also referred to it as wedlock from time to time, arguably worse, but perhaps more telling. Locked - that I was.

"Tell me this," I demanded. "Do you believe in love?"

She giggled uncomfortably, catching a few knots. "Everyone believes in love, don't they?"

"No," I answered a little too quickly, too numbly. 

She stopped brushing my hair, pausing. "You don't?"

"Oh, I do," I scoffed bitterly. "That's the problem."

There was another pause, the tips of my hair curled forgotten in her hands. "I'm sorry, m'lady. I'm not following."

I whipped around where I knelt to face her, looking her in the eye. "How can I be happy marrying someone I don't love?" I asked honestly, something I could not discern for myself. 

She frowned at me, looking akin to a puppy, so innocent and wounded. "You don't love him?"

"He's awful. Of course I don't."

"But he's going to take care of you!" She cried in disbelief, releasing my hair to wave her hands around in the air. "You'll live a rich, comfortable life. You don't want that?" She shook her head at me, eyes darting about, searching my face for an explanation. 

"I'd rather fall in love."

Her lips straightened, eyes casted to the ground. "I think that's easy for you to say." She hesitated, continuing only when I continued to watch her impassively. "You've never known a life without luxury, let alone comfort."

"I've also never known a life of freedom," I countered, looking away from her too as the air crackled between us.

"Wealth is freedom," she insisted. 

"Maybe for a man." I found the courage to look her in the eye again.

We sat in silence, sighing, letting our words settle over us. Her brows furrowed as she observed me, likely trying to figure me out the same way I attempted to understand her perspective, to walk around a bit in her shoes. Truthfully, she was my only friend, if I even had the privilege to call her that. My parents paid for her, but she was the only companion I had, the only person I could share my secrets with. I trusted her more than anyone. I loved her. She meant more to me than petty arguments. In my cloud of depression, I sometimes forgot who the real enemy was.  

"I think we both fail to see from the other's perspective." I hung my head, curling my fingers against my lap. 

"Perhaps," she said shortly, then, sighing again. "I apologize for my ignorance, my lady."

"No apology necessary." 

Her unusual silence told me that she was still frustrated with me. I couldn’t blame her, I supposed I could be quite frustrating, but I also did not want my only love to hate me. 

I opened my heart to her, taking her hand in mine to showcase my sincerity. "I'm grateful to have someone to talk to. And for all that you do for me. I am the ignorant one."

She smiled softly, but it fell just as quickly as she placed her other hand atop mine. "You're not ignorant," she said. "You're sad."

I disagreed with her. I was ignorant, and she gave me too much credit. Whether she had too much heart to admit that or too little courage to say it to me (or maybe both), I did not know. 

But, that did not mean the latter wasn't also true. Yes, that was it. 

I was sad.

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

My clan was hosting a pre-wedding ceremony dinner and evening party to celebrate the union of mine and my to-be husband's clans, with my wedding following the next day. I hardly had time to be properly sad as various servants and female family members bustled me around from the moment I awoke to prepare for the night. 

They stripped me bare and dressed me back up, pampering, perfuming, and preparing me to be a cow for slaughter. My skin had never before been so smooth, nor had I ever smelt more edible, but I did not want to be eaten. My hair had never before been styled so perfectly, nor my makeup so glamorous, but I did not want to be perceived. I did not want him to be able to enjoy me. I wanted to be difficult to swallow and digest, hard to look at. Maybe then, I’d be safe from him, free of him. If I could be so lucky, maybe he'd change his mind, decide to take another bride. But I had no say, no choice. 

It made matters all the more difficult that my mother, sisters, aunts, cousins, and servants all seemed overjoyed by the prospect of my marriage, as excited as I was depressed about what was to come. My eyes stung and throat tightened painfully throughout the day as I fought off tears, attempting to maintain my composure on their behalf. I think all hell would break loose if I dared ruin the makeup they worked so hard on. 

Alone at last in my own private quarters, I grabbed a handful of tissues and planned to dab my tears away as they came, intercepting them before they reached my blushed cheeks. Just as the first round glazed over the surface and I reached up to collect them, my door slid open. I hurriedly wiped them away and collected myself, turning to face the intruder. 

It was a sweet, young servant I knew fairly well, no older than thirteen. She timidly came forward into the room, eyeing the wad of tissues in my hand but asking no questions. 

“They are ready to dress you, m’lady,” she squeaked, clasping her hands together and bowing her head. 

“Of course. I’ll be just a moment.”

She stood and waited, her eyes lowering again to the tissues in my hand. Her eye caught on something else nearby, a gleam of jewelry on my wrist, widening in awe. 

“Oh, it's beautiful!” She beamed.

I looked down at the forgotten diamonds adorning my wrist, understanding why my companion had gotten so defensive last night. For all the expense, all they meant to me was that my love was to be bought. I had no interest. 

I removed the bracelet and stepped forward. “It's yours.” I held the jewels out towards the young girl. 

“What?!?” She choked. “Your - my lady, I - I couldn’t!” She stammered, shaking her head vigorously while she watched the diamonds dance in the light. 

“Please.” I came closer, ignoring her gasps and squeals of shock as I took her hand and slid the bracelet on. “I want you to have it. See? That’s where it’s meant to be.” I smiled at her, hoping she wouldn't see the redness of my eyes. “Beautiful.”

Her own eyes filled with tears as her mouth opened and closed, struggling to form the right words. “Oh!” She cried out instead, throwing herself at me to embrace me in a tight hug. Her little body was warm against mine, our hearts snuggling. I tried to hug her back, appreciative of the gesture, but she pulled away.

“I’m so sorry! Please, forgive me!” She gasped and bowed her head emphatically.

“Showing affection is hardly a thing to be sorry for,” I assured. 

She wiped at her eyes. “Thank you - for this.” She raised her wrist, watching the jewelry glitter as she turned it this way and that. “It must be a fortune. I owe you my life.”

“Nonsense.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Shall we go?” I gestured towards my doorway, realizing my last few moments of time for myself were gone as quick as they started. “If I know my mother, she’ll come looking for us soon.”

“Right!” She nodded once, scuttling towards the door ahead of me to properly escort me out. 

I caught up to her, linking my arm through hers, calmly nodding at her to continue on when she gave me a panicked look. We started down the hall together, not making it very far before my mother frantically strode our way, her kimono swishing aggressively around her short figure. 

“I was just about to come looking for you!”

I shared a look with my young servant.

“We’ve got to get you into your dress!” 

My dress was simple, an elegant, modest, long white piece, decorated with a white kimono, accented with red and black flowers. My eyes continuously found the black, shadowy parts of my attire, admiring the darkness and what it represented. Not that I had anything my way, but if I did, black would be the center of my attire, not white. These days felt more of a funeral than a celebration for me. 

A couple of servants added red and black flowers into the braids of my hair, matching the ones on my kimono. Meanwhile, my mother flitted about anxiously, making final preparations, as my sisters lounged about, chattering incessantly about themselves. She ushered them into gear, ordering them to make sure everything was finished up in time, that my financé and his clan would be here soon. 

“Where are you going?” One of them groaned, reluctantly joining the servants who were decorating my hair. 

“The Soul Reapers are here,” my mother explained. “I must greet them.”

“Soul Reapers?” I raised my eyebrows. 

My mother was always paranoid that other clans would try to interfere with my marriage. The dinners, parties, and ceremonies were already expensive enough. I hardly thought it necessary to pay for Soul Reapers to fend off nonexistent threats. 

“Yes,” my mother responded hurriedly, halfway out of the door. “To guard the ceremony.”

“Are they hot?” My other sister grinned.

My mother ignored her, rushing away to carry out her formalities. The servants and my sisters made their finishing touches on my hair, steering me in front of a mirror to observe my reflection. 

I looked hauntingly beautiful, the regal mesh of red, white, and black, my hair and makeup perfected unlike ever before. If only it was all for different circumstances.

Through the mirror, I saw my companion servant enter the room, coming to stand behind me. We watched each other through the mirror. I turned towards her, rising from where I sat to approach. Even my sisters had the thought to leave us. 

“You look beautiful,” she told me as the others dispersed throughout the room and halls.

“So do you.”

She giggled and blushed, shaking her head at me. Then she frowned. “He’s here.”

The warmth fled from my body, smile falling from my face. I took a shaky breath, nodding my head once. 

“(Y/N).” It had been so long since I’ve heard her say my name, always “my lady,” this and “your grace,” that. To hear her say my name again reminded me of my humanity, of the girl I was before all this. 

“Yeah?”

“I’ve realized,” her eyes became glassy, “I’m going to miss you terribly when you're gone.”

This time, I couldn't hold back the tears as I hugged her tightly, wishing I didn't have to let her go. Oh, how it hurt, how he was taking everything from me.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry!” She chastised weakly, pulling away. “You’ll ruin your makeup!” She dabbed at my cheeks. 

“I’m going to miss you more,” I confessed. 

“I think we both fail to see from the other’s perspective,” she said with a broken smile. 

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

My servants and sisters escorted me outside to greet the guests, to begin being paraded around and shown off like a zoo animal. I didn't need the cage to feel trapped. 

I felt him before I heard him, my body more intelligent than I gave it credit for. My muscles tensed, a chill running down my spine before his hands were gripping my shoulders from behind, his voice caressing my ear in a way that made my skin crawl. 

“There you are.”

I slowly turned to face him, wanting nothing more than to run from him. My body stiffened with the urge to flee, trapped in itself as I forced it to remain. 

“Hello.” Talking to him felt like attempting small talk with a stranger, only it was one-sided. 

He treated me with much more familiarity, his hands finding the sensitive parts of my body before I could find a way to stop them. “That’s all?” He laughed, a sound that never failed to make my blood boil. “My wife’s not happy to see me?”

I didn’t have the courage to correct that I wasn’t his wife yet. His hands wandered my waist underneath my kimono. I looked around, embarrassed to have numerous pairs of eyes on me, watching me get fondled. I reached up, placing my hands on his upper arms in hopes to get him to lower them. 

“Of course I’m happy to see you.” Lying became second nature around him when I was going to have to live a lie for the rest of my days with him. “I’m just overwhelmed by,” I gestured around us, an excuse to pull away from him, “all of this.”

He moved back in closer, his face near mine, voice lowered. “Shall we take a moment to ourselves elsewhere?” He suggested, his tone dark. 

I avoided his lust-filled eyes, shaking my head. “I think we should stay. This dinner is for us, after all.”

After ages of greetings and formalities, we finally sat to eat, though I could hardly stomach any of my plate. I pushed my food around, taking gentle sips of my water. Already, my cheeks were sore from all of the forced laughter and smiles. I could only imagine how broken it was starting to look when I showed my teeth at something someone said, the smile not quite meeting my eyes. 

Once dinner was finished, the evening festivities began. Again, I was toted around, passed from person to person, this time with my fiance by my side. His hand never left my waist, sneakily brushing my ass from time to time. When I attempted to move away, he moved with me, clinging, possessing, claiming. 

I noticed my companion and the young servant whom I gifted the bracelet to standing together at the edge of the yard, heads bent together in quiet conversation. She still wore the bracelet proudly, and it brought a genuine smile to my face. 

I needed a break from this.

“Excuse me,” I said to the people my fiance chatted with, bowing my head and breaking away.

Of course, he followed. 

“Where are you off to?” He asked, a subtle note of irritation in his words as he reclaimed me again, grabbing my bare wrist. 

“I need to see my servants,” I answered vaguely, nodding in their direction. 

I was hoping for a moment alone with them, knowing it would change the dynamic with his presence, but having him there to oversee would have to do. I didn’t see what other choice I had, unable to shake him. 

They lifted their heads as I neared, excitement, then concern passing over their features as they noticed my to-be husband following in tow. I narrowed my eyes and inclined my head slightly, nodding as if to say, “yeah…”

“My lady, my lord.” They bowed their heads in unison, playing the part they were supposed to with him around. “How can we be of service?”

“I’d like a status report.” I looked between them, hoping my words would convey the message I really intended. “How are things proceeding? Are my guests happy? Operations running smoothly? Everything going according to plan?” How are you two? Finding some time to enjoy yourselves in the midst of all of this?

They shared a look that told me they understood. My companion spoke, smiling softly at me. “All has been well, m’lady.” Her smile fell, brows furrowing. “What about you? Are you enjoying yourself?” Begrudgingly, she looked at my fiance, correcting herself. “Yourselves?” She observed me again. “Have you had enough to eat? Is there anything in particular I can get you?”

I shook my head. “I only wanted to make sure you were doing alright - with the guests,” I hastily corrected. 

I flinched as my fiance's hand came down on my shoulder, squeezing in silent warning. “Keep up the good work, ladies.” He smiled tightly. “We appreciate everything that you do.” 

He started to steer me away, but the young servant interrupted, holding up a finger as she remembered, “oh! I almost forgot!” She procured a tray from a nearby table, pointing to the desserts on it as she listed them off as an offering to us, “these ones here are black sesame cookies, here we have sweet rice dumplings, and, my personal favorite, cheesecake…”

With an intuitive sense of dread, I noticed that my fiance paid no mind to the desserts she showcased. Instead, his eyes followed the jewels glittering on her wrist, narrowing in recognition. It hit me then, like a punch to my gut, knocking the wind from me, it was no ordinary bracelet I gave her. 

It was one of the many courting gifts from him to me.

I broke out in a cold sweat as panic crept up my stomach and into my throat, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t be able to connect the dots, or if he did, he’d ignore them. My young servant’s words were drowned out. None of us listened to her list the different types of desserts now.  

“What an interesting piece of jewelry,” he sneered venomously, hardly letting her finish. “Where ever did you get it?”

I froze, waiting for the ball to drop. Young, innocent, and naive, she beamed at him and me.

“My bracelet? Your fiance actually gifted it to me!” She informed him proudly. 

“I see.” He squeezed my shoulder harder, so hard I thought I’d break. “How generous.” 

The young servant realized all too late what she had done, watching helplessly as he dragged me away. I looked back as I went, shaking my head at my friend when she started forward for me. 

He ushered me away so quickly, I could hardly keep up, tripping and stumbling over the hem of my dress. His grip on my upper arm so tight and harsh, pulling me without stopping, forcing me to remain upright no matter how I faltered. He took me away from the prying eyes of our guests, slamming me against the brick wall that surrounded my clan’s villa and pinning me there with his hand tightened around my throat. 

He ignored my strangled gasp and shallow, erratic breaths, his lips and nose brushing my cheek and ear with how close he was when he asked, “what is my bracelet doing on some lowly brat’s wrist?”

I struggled to come up with a response, both because I didn’t know how to lie my way out of this one, nor could I even speak with how he limited my access to air. The truth was the safest bet for my young servant, though I selfishly feared for myself too. I shut my eyes, searching for my inner strength, clawing my way towards courage when I was quite literally pinned, already caught in the predator’s snare. 

“I -” I choked. He loosened his grip enough for me to continue. “It’s like she said. I gave it to her.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He laughed meanly, pulling me forward to thrust me against the wall again as he grunted, “huh?! Do you have any idea how much that cost me? How insulting it is that you just decided to give it away, and to a simple servant, no less?”

“I have so many jewels,” I attempted to reason. “I forgot where it came from, honestly. It was a stupid, ignorant mistake. She thought it was beautiful, so I wanted her to have it. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I whimpered pathetically, putting my hands around his. 

He released me, throwing my hands off. I reached for my throat, coughing, willing air back into my lungs. He started to pace back and forth, shaking his head maniacally, laughing in disbelief. 

When I lifted my head, he stopped, his jaw clenched as he stared at me heatedly. At his side, his hand twitched, eager for something to slap. 

“You should consider yourself lucky,” he said with barely contained rage. “That I can’t have you walking down the aisle tomorrow with a busted lip. I wouldn’t be able to kiss you if it was all swollen.” He winced, as if that thought was enough to disgust him, but not the one where he had the mind to hit me, his to-be wife, in the face. 

“We’re going back,” he said, not up for discussion. “I’m going to resume speaking with the guests we left for your little bitch servants, and you’re going to get that bracelet back. I can’t stand to look at you right now.”

That makes two of us, I thought, though I’d never be brave enough to say. He stepped away, leaving me standing, shaking with adrenaline, taking deep breaths and trying not to cry for the millionth time that day. How I was going to muster the audacity to ask for that bracelet back, I didn’t know. Each time I thought of how to say it, I imagined her beautiful smile falling, and I wanted to cry all over again.

As I made my way back to the courtyard, the sea of guests and music and food and music all seemed a little duller, muffled. I scanned the crowd for my servants, and there stood my companion still with the young girl. They were smiling and laughing with a few other servants, the young girl lifting her wrist to show the others the precious diamonds.

My lip wobbled.  

I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it.

Fuck you, and fuck your bracelet, I thought of my fiance. That’s her bracelet now. I don’t care if it costs me my lip. 

And while I was at it, fuck this party too. 

I needed space, air, to be alone - for real this time. I pulled my kimono tighter around myself and fled the celebration before anyone could notice. Ironically enough, no one seemed to pay any attention as I darted outside of the walls, or maybe they just didn’t care the way they all pretended to. 

I didn’t stop until I stood outside of our main gates, hidden amongst the bushes and the shadows as the night started to creep in. I leaned against the wall, taking shaky, labored breaths, clutching the place where my heart was supposed to be. I found it, beating erratically, and the rhythm brought tears crashing down, tears that I could no longer keep at bay. I lifted my head to the sky, hoping that gravity would keep my makeup from ruin, but there were too many for that. I gave up, falling to my knees, sobbing, clutching at my aching heart as I thought over and over again, it’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s not fair!

When is it my turn?

As if the universe already had an answer for me, a man’s voice startled me out of my predicament.

"Yer the bride."

I gasped, caught, looking up from where I knelt in the grass. I didn’t recognize the voice nor the person as I observed the man before me. I quickly deduced who he was with his black uniform and white haori. He was one of the Soul Reaper’s my mother hired, and a Captain at that. He certainly looked interesting, with long blonde hair and bangs, his clothing appearing two sizes too big for his body. 

I looked down and attempted to subtly wipe my cheeks and nose, scrambling to my feet and willing strength into my voice as I said, "you're a Soul Reaper."

He didn’t confirm, only grinned wolfishly as he asked, "aren't ya supposed ta be in there?" He jerked his head in the direction of my villa and the music that echoed in the distance. 

He ignored the fact that I was crying. Whether he didn’t want to put up with it or he was allowing me some dignity, I didn’t know, but I was thankful for it either way. He had a funny accent and a relaxed way of speaking that put me at ease, my heart slowing to a much calmer pace without me registering it. 

"Aren't ya supposed to be guarding the ceremony?" I crossed my arms over my chest, scoffing. 

A flash of surprise crossed over his features before his grin deepened. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Yer mocking me."

I became aware of how it looked, some rich brat making fun of the militant’s accent. I blushed deeply, ashamed of myself. "Sorry, that was - I'm sorry. That was extremely rude of me."

He chuckled languidly, a sound that warmed my core. "Nah. It was cute.”

Cute? I couldn’t recall a time my fiance had ever referred to me as such. His go-to words were hot and sexy, only ever complimenting me with sexual undertones. Like a young, naive girl, I wanted to kick my feet and giggle and twirl my hair. He thinks I’m cute! 

Who is this guy?

I was about to ask when the sound of bushes rustling nearby made both of us jolt, looking in the direction of the noise. I tensed up instinctively, preparing for the worst, but it was just another Soul Reaper, also in white to signify his status as Captain, clumsily stepping over the brush with two glasses in hand to get to where we stood. 

I watched this newcomer, another blonde, with shorter, shaggier hair, as the other Soul Reaper spoke again, "thought I told ya to keep an eye on things? We can't both be slacking off."

“Yeah, but I got us some sake.” He smiled, raising the glasses. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said there wouldn’t be much for us to do here anyway?”

He was cute, in a clueless, klutzy, nerdy kind of way, stumbling around, the contents of the glasses he held nearly spilling out. His cheeks were rosy, indicating that he had already been indulging himself.  

“Well.” The one with the bangs spoke up again, his gaze sliding lazily back in my direction. It had the other one looking now too, both of their eyes prodding, curious. “Looks like our belle of the ball is here now, so I’d say we’re exactly where we need to be.”

“Oh, this is the bride?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled as he handed a glass over to his comrade. 

I bowed my head slightly, speaking formally out of habit, “it’s a pleasure to meet you both. I agree your services are probably unnecessary in this case, but I still appreciate your attention to the matter.”

“Pleasure’s all ours, doll,” the one with the bangs drawled, snickering at my niceties. 

Doll. The word was an arrow, and it hit its mark, right at the center of my heart. It was another word I couldn’t even begin to fathom my fiance ever saying of me. Instead, it reminded me of my bare wrist and his threats from earlier, his hand around my throat and then twitching at his side. I reached for my throat, soothing the phantom pain. 

I didn’t even know this man’s name, and yet, I knew he would never treat me that way. Not a man who called me cute and doll. 

“What are your names?” I looked between them. 

I knew I played a dangerous game out here, just waiting for my fiance to catch me with two men, but I had to know. Even if that was all I found out. 

“I’m Shinji Hirako, and this is Kisuke Urahara. And yer’s?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” I responded. 

“(Y/N),” Kisuke tried my name out. “How come you’re not in there?” He pointed towards the celebration.

“I was wonderin’ the same,” Shinji interjected. “She was cryin’ too…”

So he wasn’t going to ignore the crying. I felt my cheeks heat, embarrassed that I had let myself be seen during such a vulnerable moment. 

“Crying?” Kisuke frowned, looking to me for answers. “What for?”

“It’s nothing,” I dismissed. 

“Didn’t seem like nothin’.” Shinji raised an eyebrow. 

“I shouldn’t discuss personal matters so casually.” I threw my wall back up, clasping my hands together and looking at my feet, hiding behind formalities again. “Besides, there’s nothing I can do to improve my circumstances.”

The two of them shared a look, something silent passing between them. I squirmed where I stood, wondering if I had overstayed my welcome. 

But then, Shinji held his glass out towards me, dangling it in the air. "Ya want a sip?"

I suppressed a smile, bashfully shaking my head. "I'm not allowed."

"Yeah, who says?" He challenged. 

“My fiance does not think it’s classy for a lady to drink,” I explained, blushing harder. I felt like an idiot. 

“Yer fiance’s an idiot,” he said frustratedly, as if reading my mind.

“One sip can’t hurt,” Kisuke agreed, smirking. 

“I - I don’t know.” I looked behind me, as if he’d appear at any moment, dragging me away to throw me against the wall again. 

“Sweetheart.” Shinji grabbed my attention again, sending me spiraling with another pet name. “Do ya want to have a drink?”

I hesitated. It’d been so long, but if he caught me drinking, and with two men no less, I’d be sporting more than just a busted lip after the wedding. 

But I did want a drink, fuck, I wanted one so bad. And maybe I was desperate for the attention from another man (or men, rather), maybe I was making reckless decisions because I was sad, maybe I just wanted to prolong my time outside the wall, maybe I was going to pay for it all later.

Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, but there was one certainty: I was tired of being afraid.

I met Shinji’s eyes and I nodded.

“Atta girl.” Shinji thrusted his glass into my hand, stepping around me. “I’ll be back, I’m gonna grab a couple more for us.” He winked at Kisuke and I. 

“No reason to wait when there’s more on the way.” Kisuke grinned once Shinji was gone, clinking his glass against mine. “Cheers - to the bride.”

I giggled and tipped the glass back, pulling a twisted expression at the harsh taste. I stuck my tongue out and shook my head before going in for more as if nothing happened. 

“You’d better take it easy,” Kisuke chuckled. “If you’re not used to drinking.”

“You worried about me?” I teased, amazed at how loose I had become after one little sip. Maybe he had a point.

“I came here to protect the bride, didn’t I?” He smiled, his cheeks warming at the boldness of his own words. 

“You came here to protect the entire event.” I smiled back coyly, swirling the remaining bits in my glass and watching. “Not just me.”

“I guess you could argue that.”

“Those weren’t your orders?” I snorted. 

“Oh, they were. Up to me how I interpret them.” He took a slow sip from his drink, watching me all the while. 

His eyes, green or gray, I couldn’t tell as the sun shied away. The color didn’t matter as much as the quiet deviousness they carried, the kind that had my mind scrambling to uncover the mystery while my heart fluttered excitedly in my chest. He seemed easygoing on the surface, but something abnormal lurked underneath. I caught glimpses of it here and there, in the way he didn’t blink as often as he should’ve, or the lopsided smile he wore when he observed me. Sweet with some skeletons in the closet, I itched to find out what those were. 

“So, you both must be pretty powerful,” I began. “Being Captains and all.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess so.” He was blushing again, laughing nervously. 

I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the desperation talking, but damn, was he cute. I took another sip and let it burn down my throat and into my cheeks, lighting myself on fire in more ways than one. 

“You don’t sound very confident in yourself,” I observed.

“To tell you the truth,” he scratched the back of his head shyly, “I’m new to the position. I’m still working out the kinks.”

I fixated on the word ‘kink,’ taking a deep, sobering breath to maintain my decency. “Well, I think you’re doing a good job,” I complimented shyly. “You’ve certainly made me feel safe.”

“From danger outside the walls?” He prodded. “Or inside?”

“Does it matter?” I challenged, anxiously polishing off the rest of my drink.

“As a Soul Reaper,” he shrugged, “no.”

I stared at him, my mouth curving into a subtle frown. 

“But as a guy worried about a pretty girl,” he practically whispered now, “yeah, it matters.” He grinned at my failure to suppress a smile, teasingly adding, “my lady.”

“What’s goin’ on here?” Shinji interrupted before I could say anything stupid, returning with as many glasses as he could carry, quicker than expected. 

“Just making conversation.” Kisuke caught my eye. 

“Yer cheeks are only red from the liquor then?” Shinji teased me, grinning suggestively. 

“What are you implying?” I scoffed, smiling playfully, the liquor indeed thrumming through my veins, but not the sole reason for the heat in my cheeks…and other places.

He ignored me, smirking before becoming serious as he informed me, “they’re lookin’ for ya in there. Some jackass, yer soon-to-be husband, I take it.” He frowned.

I nodded solemnly, the color leaving my cheeks, panic squeezing around my heart again. I looked to the empty glass in my hand. Maybe this was my sign, yet again, the moment I wanted to last, over as soon as it started. 

“Somethin’ tells me ya don't want to be found,” Shinji spoke in a low, sincere, tone, no trace of that playfulness in his wide mouth or dark eyes this time. 

“Not like this,” I confirmed. 

The men fell silent, thinking, just as I was. We were all waiting for something.

And then, Kisuke came up with a suggestion, “is there somewhere private the three of us can go?”

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

The idea came to me almost instantly, waiting to be called upon. There was a guest bedroom in my villa, one not often used, forgotten in the back corner of our property. I doubted anyone would come looking for me there. It was sizable enough for the three of us, but not so large as to create a sense of separation. It was simple, a few minimal decorations here and there, a table, a bed, and a large mirror that covered a significant expanse of the wall in front of the bed. 

Shinji grinned at himself in it as soon as he caught sight, setting the glasses of sake down on the table to stuff his hands in his pockets and take in the rest of what the room had to offer. While he admired himself in the mirror and its position with regard to the bed, Kisuke noticed a trio of candles atop the table, searching the surrounding area. 

“Got a lighter?” He asked. 

“There are matches around here somewhere.” I hurried to find them, missing from their usual spot in the table drawers. 

Shinji scraped them off of the floor nearby, handing them over. Someone must have been in here and lazily discarded them. I only hoped there were still matches left. I didn't want to risk leaving to find more and get caught skipping my own party, or worse, run into him. 

Kisuke pulled one out. I let loose a sigh of relief, watching as he stroked the match against the box and lit each candle with ease, illuminating the room with a soft glow. The three of us got quiet after that, watching the beginnings of the three flames burning. 

With the mirror close by, I suddenly became aware of myself and my appearance again, still smelling like a freshly bloomed flower, my hair still adorned with them, and my makeup slightly runny from the tears I shed, but otherwise still artfully intact. I stole sly glances at my reflection, readjusting the way my kimono draped over my dress, tucking away a strand of hair I didn’t like, trying to smudge away those stubborn bits of makeup that fell out of line. Earlier, I had hated how everyone dressed me up. Now I found myself appreciative. I realized, for these men, I didn't mind smelling edible, looking beautiful, and being enjoyed. For them, I wanted to be perfect. I had searched for ways to bring my flaws out, now I searched for ways to hide them. 

I quickly learned how perceptive Shinji was. However I attempted to conceal myself, he found me out.

Our reflections made eye contact, his shit-eating grin forming. “See somethin’ ya like? I know I do.”

I tore my gaze away from his in the mirror, spinning around to watch the candles as my cheeks burned in time with the flames. “Oh, just checking how badly I messed up my makeup…” I laughed, reflexively self-deprecating.

“Ain’t nothin’ messed up about the way you look,” he assured, grabbing two glasses of sake from the table, one for me and one for him. “Here.”

I took it from him, looking to see if Kisuke was going to have a drink too. He smiled knowingly, reaching for another glass. 

In the way that Kisuke was quietly peculiar, Shinji contrasted him and wore it all on the surface - cocky, confident, flaunting as if he had nothing to hide, but they were both hiding something. I saw tremors in his slender hands when he handed me the glass, solemnity in his eyes as he observed me before sporting that easygoing smirk, humor to bury the vulnerable side that he’d locked away. I saw both of them, clinking my glass against theirs, another dose of liquid courage to loosen my lips, and I knew they saw me too. 

After taking the initial sip, Shinji flopped down onto the bed, miraculously not spilling. I flinched instinctively at the prospect of a mess on the fresh sheets, as if I hadn’t already ventured dangerously far into my own mess. Kisuke joined him much more carefully, sitting at the edge and smiling at me with intention. They both watched me now, turning away only to glance at the space in between. I supposed that left me to join them. 

I nearly winced as my weight sank down onto the edge of the bed, suddenly tense without the open space of the outdoors. I continuously froze up with each creak of the boards underneath, honed in on my ragged, nervous breathing, clenching my glass so hard I risked breaking it rather than spilling it. Shinji propped himself up on his elbow, brown eyes following my every move.

“Time for pillow talk.” He grinned, tapping his finger against the bed. 

His lightheartedness, despite the circumstances, infected me. I constantly found myself stifling a giggle at his words, truly laughing again when it had become so foreign to me. “Pillow talk?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, taking a generous sip from his glass. “I’ll tell ya my secrets if ya tell me yers.”

“And what would you like to know, Captain?” I raised an eyebrow, attempting my best shot at a flirty tone. There was work to be done, but the alcohol thrumming through my system definitely helped. 

“Nuh uh. None of that.” He shook his head slowly and seriously while wagging his finger at me. “It’s Shinji. I want ya to call me Shinji.”

I bit my lip and looked for Kisuke on my other side. “And Shall I call you Kisuke, or Captain Urahara?”

“You can call me whatever you want to call me, m’lady,” he crooned, cheeks reddening.

“Okay then.” I smiled mischievously, becoming more and more at ease as we drank and spoke. “But if we’re skipping formalities, then drop the m’lady.”

“Ya prefer to be my doll, don’tcha’?” Shinji chimed back in.

“Am I that obvious?” I asked, turning to face him again, caught somewhere between embarrassment and confidence. 

“It’s cute,” he assured with that cheshire grin of his. “Seeing you all flustered. I take it yer idiot husband doesn’t sweet talk ya like this?”

As horrible as it sounded, to hear him refer to my fiance as an idiot made me adore him all that much more. I tried not to smile too big as I responded, “not really, no.”

“Well, he's not here right now,” Kisuke stole my attention again. “He’s also not your husband yet. I'd say you're still a single lady.”

“Is that right?” I huffed a laugh of disbelief, though I secretly liked his mindset. 

“We’re getting sidetracked,” Shinji interrupted again. “Supposed ta be sharing secrets. I can go first.” I could tell by his toothy smirk that whatever he intended on sharing first couldn’t be anything pure. 

“Oh, this should be good,” Kisuke seemed to agree.

Shinji sighed deeply, making a show of preparing himself. “Here we go…” he paused for effect before finally revealing, “I’m buzzed right now.”

“That’s not a secret!” I giggled, buzzing myself, with laughter, alcohol, and affection for these two strange, goofy men. 

“Sure it is. Ya wouldn't have known otherwise,” he chuckled lazily, very evidently beyond buzzed by now. 

“Your eyes are barely open, but we wouldn’t know anything about that,” Kisuke teased with laughter that sounded just as lazy.

“They’re open! Open wide!” Shinji forced his eyes open, as wide as they would go. 

The ridiculous sight had me bursting into an obnoxious fit of giggles, covering my mouth, unused to the sound of my own raucous laughter when the days had been so blue. For the first time in a long time, I felt like myself again, my inner palette shifting from cool to warm - yellow, orange, red - happiness, warmth, passion. My cheeks burned, that same warmth spreading in my chest and further down. 

I attempted to angle my body to speak to both of them, but ended up mostly turned towards Shinji, the louder of the two, with Kisuke at my back. Somewhere between the start of our “pillow talk” and now, Kisuke had moved closer, his hand finding my waist underneath my kimono, knuckles brushing up and down my side soothingly.

“Anyway, now you each have ta share a secret.” Shinji pointed at us. “It’s only fair.”

“Fine.” Kisuke flattened his hand somewhere between my stomach and my side and drew closer, his chest grazing my back. When he spoke again, his words brushed against my ear, tickling me in more places than one. “I’ll do you one better - I think someone in this room smells reeeally nice right now,” he said quietly and huskily before resting his chin against my shoulder. “Like a pretty little flower.”

I exhaled shakily, inhaling to breathe his scent the same as he evidently did mine. Heat pooled in my core as he filled my senses, medicinal, musky, and intoxicating - my antidote. The other Captain jabbered again, shaking me out of my lustful stupor. 

“It's me isn’t it?” Shinji joked, swirling the contents of his glass haughtily. “Guess that cologne I just got was a good investment after all.”

The both of us mostly ignored him, panting against each other. “It’s your turn, sweet cheeks,” Kisuke reminded, lightly brushing his lips against my cheek in a gentle kiss before pulling back away, his hand resuming its leisurely motion on the side of my torso.

My brain felt muddled, my nerves and emotions so easily stirred by the way they spoke and handled me with such delicate adoration, even if it was all a lie, even if it was only for tonight. “Oh, uhm…well, I don’t know…” I stammered feverishly. 

“Can be anything. Quit thinkin’ so hard,” Shinji informed with a smug, suggestive grin. 

“Anything?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Anything.” He nodded.

I gave it some thought. I know where they wanted me to take this, where I wanted to take this, where this headed. Each time that I felt a sliver of guilt for what transpired and what was to come, I remembered his hands on me and his casual threats. I remembered that tomorrow came the loss of my freedom, my life as I knew it, and my happiness, and then, the guilt disappeared. I was exhausted from being the only one to feel remorse. I decided then and there to stop hiding, stop pretending, and stop shaming myself. This was pillow talk, after all. I had no regrets. 

“Well, my fiance is very traditional. He finds his loop holes, sure, but he won't go all the way, not until we’re officially wedded. It’s the one thing he has yet to take from me,” I confessed. 

Fear struck me as both men fell silent. Luckily, the silence never lasted long with Shinji.

“Ya lost me, sweetheart.” His impassive tone and expression had me squirming. I had a hard time believing that he genuinely wasn’t following me, what with his knack for noticing everything. 

Even if he teased me to get me to say what I really meant outright, I did it for him anyway, remembering my silent oath to no longer feel ashamed tonight. “I’m a virgin - at least in the cherry popping sort of sense. That’s my secret.” I stood my ground, no matter how intensely my face burned.

“Cherries…” Shinji mulled it over, or at least pretended to, while Kisuke casually confirmed aloud, “he’s never penetrated you, but he’s done other things. I hope at least he’s pleasured you in some way…?”

“More like I’ve pleasured him,” I snorted bitterly before tipping my head back against his chest and finishing off the rest of my sake.

He gingerly reached around me and took my glass from my hand, bending down to set it on the floor with his empty glass. “And he’s never returned the favor?”

I shook my head.

“He’s a pussy,” Shinji spat, his sudden and severe anger over the matter igniting the fire inside of me. “I hope at least ya know what an orgasm feels like.”

I shook my head again, the shame I was no longer supposed to feel threatening to make its way back in.

“You don't touch yourself, sweet girl?” Kisuke questioned, speaking with a casualness that shook me, my composure slipping through my fingers. 

“I - I do,” I admitted anxiously, in shock with myself that I so willingly offered up this information to them. “I’ve just…” I hesitated, “never got there on my own, I guess.” The two of them got quiet again, prompting a tiny, troubled outburst from me, “okay, I just gave you both like three secrets for the price of one!”

“Guess we aren't bein’ fair to ya, doll, are we?” Shinji drummed his fingers against the mattress, smiling gently in my direction. 

“We’re not,” Kisuke agreed, pressing into me again to speak to Shinji over my shoulder. “Unlike her cowardly fiance, we’ll return the favor, won’t we?” I could hear the grin in his voice. “We each owe her a secret, at least.”

Shinji’s smile became less gentle, transforming back into his usual, teasing smirk. “How convenient. I’ve got a good one for her.” 

“Yeah?” Kisuke prodded, egging him on.

I braced myself, my hand falling atop Kisuke’s thigh without realizing. The air in the room, already stuffy, had turned electric, charging up, prepared to shock me. My fingers lightly squeezed, anticipating the zap.

“Yeah.” Shinji sat up, closing in the space between us, his face dangerously close to mine. His brown eyes fell from my eyes to my lips, then back up again, while Kisuke seemed to nudge me forward, closer, with his chest. “My secret,” he spoke just loud enough for the both of us to hear, “is that I’m dyin’ to know what she tastes like.” 

He tilted his head, leaning in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss into the side of my neck before coming back up to watch my mouth part, a short, surprised gasp escaping. “I love cherries.” He turned the other way, dipping his head to brush his lips against the side of my neck he neglected the first time. 

I shut my eyes, digging my nails into Kisuke’s thigh as my body shuddered. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it, his voice steady as he proclaimed, “I’ve got a good one too.” His large hand spread across my abdomen, pressing me into him. “I want to pop her cherry before her husband does, and be the first one to make her cum.”

“That makes two of us,” Shinji chuckled hoarsely, stroking my cheek until my eyes opened again, meeting with his. “What do ya say, sweetheart?”

The three candles still flickered, side by side, the room considerably dimmed with the evening taking place outside of the only window, nothing but their glow to illuminate Shinji’s warm eyes as I stared into them. From the moment I saw those eyes outside the walls, I knew they’d be getting me in trouble, and I wanted that. Still, I found it hard to say yes, to voice the truth, even when I promised myself I would stop holding back. So used to having my desires cast aside, I couldn’t imagine that there wasn’t a catch or something I must have missed along the way. This couldn’t actually be happening in my favor. My mind shouted at me in one last ditch effort with all that could go wrong - these men could hurt me, the same as any man, or anyone could walk in, or he could walk in. Worry tugged at my heartstrings, my eyes wide, my mouth open and closing, trying to find the right words when there weren’t any. 

And then, the sound of glass shattering startled me back into the present moment, and in my drunken daze I squeaked and reached for my heart, as if it had finally reached its breaking point. But it wasn’t my heart at all. In the mirror, the three of us found Shinji’s empty glass in a pile on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Oops. Got too carried away starin’ into yer beautiful eyes, I guess,” he chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as a blush creeped up on it. 

I cupped my hand over my mouth, laughing wildly at the absurdity of it all. Had any of my family members, servants or he been here to witness, they would’ve had quite the opposite reaction, screaming and hollering and ushering someone to clean it up immediately, and how dare someone so carelessly tarnish this expensive wood - whatever kind I had no knowledge of or cared for, however spoiled that made me. 

As I giggled uncontrollably, Kisuke sighed and moved to gather the shards as best he could, pushing them to the corner of the room so one of us didn’t kill ourselves later. “Real smooth,” he chastised the other Captain. 

I found it sweet, how moments earlier, Shinji so casually mentioned wanting to taste me, and now he looked like a kicked-puppy, guilt-ridden over his silly mistake. Little did he know, the glass breaking was just the thing I needed. I took it as a sign, a representation. It wasn’t my heart, no, it was the shattering of who I was pretending to be, the breaking down of my walls. Or maybe it was my heart, no, my body. Maybe it meant they’d break me and piece me back together. No matter what it represented (or whatever I chose to delusionally believe it represented), I had made my decision then. 

“Ah, I didn’t kill the mood, did I?” Shinji asked the both of us, in distress as Kisuke huffed and plopped back down at the edge of the bed and as I snickered at him. 

“Actually,” I smiled, feeling a new surge of giddiness and excitement. “It’s making me feel better, getting to laugh through this. I - I want both of you, I’m just nervous,” I explained, playing with a strand of my meticulously styled hair, preparing to have it ruined. 

“Look at me.” Kisuke demanded before Shinji could open his mouth again. I turned to face him, eagerly obeying at the sound of his serious tone. “Don’t do this if you’re not comfortable. We want to make you feel good, not scared.”

“I’ll make ya laugh as much as you need, but he’s right,” Shinji interjected, taking on the same, firm tone. “If ya don’t feel like ya can relax with us-”

“No, please! I can!” I begged before I could stop myself, more calmly adding, “I want this. I’m sure,” when Shinji’s eyes widened at my impatience. 

After a moment, his expression relaxed again. He huffed a laugh, leaning forward to stick a quick kiss onto the bridge of my nose. “Change yer mind at any time and ya let one of us know, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” I nodded as seriously as possible, though the corners of my lips’ twitched. “I will.”

“You promise?” Kisuke sang from behind, nudging into me. 

“I promise.” I leaned back into him.

“Then kiss me.”

It was a test, a way for him to see if I really wanted this, wanted him. He wouldn’t give me the luxury of his initiation, leaving it up to me.

And I intended to pass his test. 

I turned my body just enough to lock lips with him, innocently enough at first. However, now that I had taken the first step, he gladly reasserted himself as the lead, grabbing my waist and steering me further towards him, and kissing me harder, hungrier. I made noises of pleasant surprise into his mouth, not because I didn’t expect this of him, but because I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. Through the kiss, my theories were proven true. The sweet, dorky Captain I met earlier in the night vanished in front of me, replaced by the perverted, shameless man I knew he truly was. His tongue fought its way into my mouth, consuming my own as if he wanted to devour me. I couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant about how right I was about him and about how delicious it felt now to have him violating my mouth while his hands roamed my body, something inside of him snapping and unleashing on me. 

“Heyyy, whattabout meee!” Shinji whined distantly. 

Reluctantly, Kisuke pulled away with a barely audible, throaty growl, grinning at the string of saliva that connected our lips when he did. “You’d better give him some attention too.” He nodded in Shinji’s direction. 

“Sorry, Captain Hirako,” I teased, impatiently pressing my lips into his before he could retort. 

Like Kisuke, he took the lead as soon as he could, grinning against my mouth, our teeth clashing, his hands squeezing my thighs, getting me to part my mouth in a needy moan so that his tongue could slip past. Where Kisuke kissed like a starved man, Shinji kissed playfully, teasing, taunting, finding ways to have me whining and leaning forward for more, more, more. I could play too, knowing that as big of a tease as he could be, he was just as much of a whiner, begging to have my lips on his only moments before this. I took his bottom lip in between my teeth, lightly biting down before pulling away. 

“Oh?” His lips, swollen and glowing with my drool, pulled into a cocky smirk. “What was that about?”

“Did you not like it?” I raised an eyebrow.

He cupped my cheek. “I fuckin’ loved it, naughty girl. Give yer guy some more.”

“My guy?” I giggled, tilting my head into his hand. 

“Mhmm,” he stroked my cheek gently with his thumb, speaking softly yet seriously as he confessed, “ya’ve had me wrapped around yer finger from the start - comin’ outta there, lookin’ all sad and gorgeous…”

I searched his eyes for any indication that he was messing with me again as my heart swelled with affection and longing. I frowned, the bittersweetness that a man who wasn’t mine could be so tender with me both a comfort and a pain. My fingers curled around the fabric of his haori, desperate to keep him here forever.

“Looks like it’s my turn again.” Kisuke stole me away, kissing me just as ravenously as he had the first time, leaving me to abandon my brooding thoughts.

“What?! I wasn’t done!” Shinji complained. 

Kisuke released me, looking impatiently at Shinji before turning to give me an exasperated look. I grinned, suppressing laughter as he remarked, “he talks a lot, doesn't he?” 

I nodded in agreement.

“Hey! What is this?! Yer ganging up on-”

“You should probably sit on his face,” Kisuke interrupted with a conniving grin. “Shut him up.”

As my own eyes widened, Shinji’s indignant expression fell, transforming into surprise and then complacency. “Now there’s an idea,” he drawled, brown eyes darkening as they watched me blush. 

“Don’t look so worried,” Kisuke whispered to me. “Trust me, that pervert wants it.”

“But what if I hurt him?” I stressed.

Shinji grabbed my hand. “Darlin’, only way you can hurt me is if ya sit on his face instead of mine.” He leaned closer, falling serious. “I said I wanted to taste ya, didn’t I?”

“You did,” I answered shyly.

“Then be a good girl and gimme some cherry.”

I froze, in disbelief, short circuiting. We’d talked and talked, and it had all been fine, but now, he genuinely wanted to taste me? To be trapped between my thighs, no less?

“I’ll hold your hand during the ride if it makes you feel better,” Kisuke chuckled, brushing his fingers along my side again as Shinji gathered pillows from the top of the bed.

“Help her, Kisuke,” he said as he positioned them at the bottom, checking their visibility in the mirror. “Make sure she has something to hang on to.” He winked before removing his haori, carelessly tossing it aside before flopping down, ensuring his head and neck were in a comfortable spot. 

I remained frozen and silent, watching the scene unfold in front of me as a bystander. I looked to Kisuke for guidance. 

“Can I help you get undressed, baby?” He offered. 

I nodded, then, afraid they’d stop if I wasn't enthusiastic enough, “yes, please.”

He grinned knowingly, reaching for my kimono to delicately pull it off of my shoulders and down my arms. I stiffened, feeling him lightly tug the zipper at the top of my neck, prepared to unzip the back of my gown. It happened so quickly, talking to them outside, then in here, laying myself bare with my words, and now I’d truly, physically be bare, stripped of everything, nowhere to hide.

“Are you going to undress too?” I asked him in a pleading tone.

“Would you like that?” He asked softly, understanding me.

“I would.”

“I’m much too afraid not to indulge a noble,” he joked, unzipping the rest of the way. “You wanna do the honors?”

I nodded coyly, slowly turning to face him. He nodded for me to continue, giving me the go ahead to undress him the same he was doing to me. I reached for his haori, peeling it off and gently casting it aside, and then the different pieces of his uniform underneath, one by one, with his gentle guidance, until we were down to his underwear. I kept my eyes level with his to the best of my abilities, though it proved difficult. An impressive physique hid under the baggy confines of his uniform. My pupils discreetly traced the curves of his muscles, his chest, his abdomen, his arms, his legs…When I snapped my eyes back up to his, I realized I hadn’t been so discreet after all. While he chuckled at me, my cheeks burned from having been caught ogling him like a pervert. Before completely exposing himself, he murmured a “c’mere,” helping me out of my dress, leaving me down to my underwear as well. I was all flowers, the ones in my hair and in the lace of my bra and panties, secretly hoping that he would check me out as I did him. 

“Neglectin’ me again,” Shinji pouted from behind us, regaining both of our attention. “How mean…”

“I thought maybe you'd wanna keep your dick under wraps, you know, in case you cum just from having her on your mouth,” Kisuke teased him, smirking devilishly as his hand found my waist again, without the barrier of my dress this time. I nearly twitched at the feeling of his fingers on my naked flesh. 

“Well, if she tastes good she tastes good.” Shinji shrugged. “Guess I’ll undress myself…all by my lonesome,” he sighed after neither of us made a move to assist him. 

I giggled quietly to myself, watching him as he stripped while Kisuke stripped me. He wasn’t as big as Kisuke, but no less enticing to look at. Lean and taut, I was mesmerized as I observed the way his lanky limbs moved so smoothly. While I enjoyed the show, Kisuke unclasped my bra, tossing it away, before yanking my panties down past my ass and over my thighs from behind. I reached down to pull them off the rest of the way, but he flipped me around and onto my back, smiling at my surprised yelp as he lifted them up my legs, off of my ankles, and twirled them around his finger, making sure I watched as he winked and threw them at Shinji’s head. 

I gasped and giggled, eyes widening as I searched for his reaction. He side-eyed Kisuke through the lacey fabric, breaking out into a grin as he yanked them from his head and threw them back at Kisuke. They hit his chest, falling onto the mattress before him. He looked at the lace, then at me, then back at it again, before grabbing it and bringing it to his face, inhaling deeply before tossing them away for good.  

My jaw dropped as Shinji chuckled and said, “and ya call me the pervert.”

“Hurry up and take your underwear off so she can sit down,” was all he offered in return as he removed his own undergarment. 

If he could sniff my panties, it only seemed fair that I got to size up his dick, and oh, did it have size. I pressed my thighs together, concealing my weeping slit, as I wondered how I’d fit all of that. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, Shinji had also freed himself and got back into position, laying flat at the edge of the bed, checking himself out in the mirror again. 

“Well, what’re ya waitin' for?” He asked me as I gaped at his long cock next. “There’s no line, sweetheart, and I’ve got ya the best seat.” He gestured toward the mirror, smiling proudly. “You can watch yerself come undone.” 

“Oh,” I breathed, dizzy with desire.  

Kisuke crawled up the bed, perching himself up top. He spit into his hand, wrapping it around his length and stroking up and down. My eyes followed the motion, hardly hearing him encourage me to, “go on.” 

“What - what about you?” I whined.

“I’ll take care of myself,” he assured. “Don’t worry about me. Just enjoy yourself.” He flicked his gaze towards Shinji, a silent gesture for me to climb on. 

Something about the way he spoke to me made me want to do any and everything he demanded of me. I faced Shinji, hesitating once more. “Are you sure I’m not gonna hurt you?” 

“I’ve got support.” He patted the pillows underneath his long, blonde hair, smiling calmly. “Quit makin’ me wait. Yer killin' me.”

I took a deep breath, resigning myself to my fate. I lifted my leg over him, slowly crawling up his body, silently admiring it again as I did so. When my hips reached his face, I sank down slowly, hovering above his lips, thighs quivering with nerves and the effort it took to hold myself up. 

“All the way,” he ordered sternly from beneath me. 

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, bracing for impact before I allowed myself to fully sit down on his face. I gasped loudly as his warm, wet tongue finally made contact with my own soaked warmth, pressing into me and inviting in a new sensation I hadn’t been familiar with. I cried out loudly, forgetting my surroundings, snapped out of it only when Kisuke groaned in tandem with my loud whimpers of pleasure.

“Fuuuuck you’re cute,” he voiced deeply and throatily, only adding to my euphoria. “You see yourself?” he asked me, nodding towards the mirror while he continued to fuck himself with his own hand. 

I found my own eyes in the mirror, along with the sight of my thighs covering Shinji’s face and his hands wrapped around them, his long blonde hair cascading out on one end and his long, lean body on the other. His cock sprang to life as his tongue delved into and against me. I no longer worried about my appearance, feeling more beautiful than I ever had with my messy, flowered hair, lips parted, a string of erotic sounds coming out, and eyes half-lidded, getting to see everything. The view, paired with the feel of Shinji’s tongue flicking against my clit and utterly devouring me, had a flood of sorts occurring. My thighs, and his face, I’m sure, were becoming slippery, and heat swirled in every ounce of my being, my face, my chest, my stomach, in between my legs. I felt fevered - sweating, dizzy, dazed. My hips and thighs stuttered around him, my body leaving my control, or perhaps my mind had just stopped working. I could only moan and cry.

And beg, for reprieve, whatever that meant for me.

“Ki - Kisuke!” I called out to him, knowing that Shinji wouldn’t be able to offer any words of encouragement right now.

He laughed tiredly at me, stroking himself rhythmically as he watched my hips roll against Shinji’s tongue of their own accord. “Sweet thing,” he cooed, laden with lust. “Look at how hard you’ve got me. And it looks like I’m not the only one.” He eyed Shinji’s dick, stiff and swollen. 

“Does it feel good?” He asked breathily, panting as he slowed his pace, stringing himself along. 

“Mmhmmph,” I hummed a response. 

“Why don’t you tell him?” He urged.

“Shinji,” his name came out in a gasp, on cloud nine because of him. “Feels so good. So good, Shinji!” I cried out shamelessly. 

At that, he groaned into me, so loudly, the vibration of it rippled through my core. The sensation sent waves of pleasure racking through me, resulting in high-pitched, squealing, screaming, and crying I hadn’t known I was capable of. I rolled my hips against his face harder now, desperate to relieve the building ache in the pit of my stomach.

“Thaaaat’s it.” Kisuke fisted his cock so hard, I could hear it, the slick sounds mixing deliciously with the equally lewd sounds coming from underneath me. “Fuck his face. Just like that.”

The ache in my core increased, both in heat and intensity, threatening to explode. I had no idea what to do, or what I was supposed to do. I searched for Kisuke, shouting for him, demanding his attention, his guidance, again.

“Kisuke!!!”

It took him a moment to fully register me, struggling to fight off an ache of his own. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I think I’m gonna…!” I hurriedly informed him.

“You’re gonna cum, baby doll?” He asked hopefully.

“I think so!”

“You wanna cum with me?” He grinned, elated. 

“Yes!” I begged. Now that I’d found them, I hadn’t wanted to be alone. “Should - should I move-”

“No,” he answered quickly, knowing what I meant without me having to finish. “Stay on him.”

Shinji heard it all, digging his fingers into my thighs, pressing his tongue impossibly harder into me. “Ah - ah! Fuck! Shinji!”

“That’s it, baby, that’s it,” Kisuke praised shakily, furiously fucking himself into his hand now. 

The room had turned into an inferno, hot and noisy as the both of us whimpered, groaned, cried, moaned, and screamed all the way to the end. I once again forgot my surroundings - forgot the ceremony, the clans, my fiance, forgot who I was entirely. I had a one-track mind, and that was to get to the finish line along with Kisuke, to experience my first ever climax on Shinji’s big mouth. 

I came with a loud cry, blinding white coating my senses, my body twitching and tensing like a dying animal. Shinji held me in place until I made it back down to earth, catching my breath, looking around in the aftermath, for who or what, I didn’t know, but I found Kisuke, in the same state as I, evidence of his undoing covering his abs. 

I remembered the other man beneath me, gasping with worry for him. I clumsily climbed off of Shinji’s face, letting him breathe again, leaning down to make sure he was alright. 

He smirked lazily at my concerned expression, nothing to say but, “damn, I love cherries.”

“You goof,” I giggled tiredly at him. “Thank you - for that.”

He smiled softly at me, his eyes glinting with something I couldn't place. Whatever it was, I didn’t get to hear it as Kisuke announced from across the room where he cleaned himself up with tissues, “oh, man am I gonna fuck the flowers out of your hair."

“Hurry up, Kisuke,” Shinji grumbled impatiently, throwing an arm around my torso and pulling into him. “I’m hard as a rock here.”

He looked ridiculous, his face glistening with my juices he hadn't bothered to wipe off. Whether he meant to or not, he always had me laughing. I giggled and brushed my essence off of his face for him, but not without him pressing a tender kiss to the palm of my hand in thanks. 

“Waiting for orders?” Kisuke teased him again, discarding the soiled tissues and strolling back over to the bed. 

“I’m tryin’ ta be a decent guy and let ya pop her cherry first since I got to give it a taste.” He turned to me, winking. 

“I can taste yours,” I pressed a hand to his chest, looking to him with wide, hopeful eyes. “It’s the least I can do after what you've done for me.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m not gonna let ya do that, doll.” He squeezed me for emphasis as the bed dipped near us, signaling Kisuke’s arrival. 

“Why not?” I pouted, relentless.

“Not takin’ advantage of ya like that scumbag fiance of yers,” he said seriously.

“You’re not taking advantage,” I asserted. “You've already done more for me than he ever has.” 

“And I wanna keep it that way.”

I frowned, stroking his skin. “Shinji, please?”

He hesitated, sighing dramatically, his expression turning grumpy before he surrendered, “ah, fuck me. How can I deny ya when ya ask me so sweetly?” 

Having his agreement, I beamed, getting up on all fours, crawling to his awaiting member. This was something I was familiar with, and I felt eager to showcase my skill - to make him feel good the same way he had done for me. 

But Shinji reached out, pressing his hand to my shoulder to stop me, emitting a pained groan as he suggested,  “Let’s wait for Kisuke, yeah?”

And from behind came his voice. “Fuck. What a view.”

I looked over my shoulder behind me to find him unashamedly staring at my ass and pussy from behind, on full display and likely dripping from what Shinji had just done. Feeling playful, I arched further for him, face down ass up, displaying myself even more. Kisuke groaned loudly at the sight, placing his hands on my cheeks to spread them further, depravedly staring the most vulnerable parts of me down.

“Oh, yer a naughty thing,” Shinji laughed meanly. “Just needed to warm ya up a bit huh?”

I grinned and nodded my head, starting to hum a reply. “Mhmm - aah!” Cut short by the now-familiar warm, wet pressure of a tongue pressing into me from behind. 

Kisuke unexpectedly licked up remnants of the mess between my thighs, pulling away, flushed, to say, “sorry, pretty. Just couldn't help myself.”

“S’okay,” I slurred. Really, it was more than okay, but I wasn’t going to get greedy now. 

“You ready for me?” He asked as he massaged my ass, smiling like a kid in a candy store. 

“Yes,” I moaned needily, just now noticing the small square condom package he somehow procured, likely from his discarded uniform while I pleaded with Shinji. “Oh, you don't have to put that on, if you don't want to,” I told him before he could open it. “I was hoping I could feel all of you.” 

“All of me, huh?” He taunted, though as his grin widened, I thought he may appreciate my offer.

I nodded.

“How can I say no to you?” He cooed, throwing the condom package off and away, somewhere in the room to be caught later, though I didn’t care to worry about that now. 

He positioned himself behind me, lining the tip of his cock up with my entrance and teasingly collecting more of my juices with it. My pussy fluttered eagerly around nothing, anticipating the intrusion. 

“Alright, might feel a little stretch,” he warned. “Stop me if you need to.”

I smirked, almost giggling, thinking I’d be able to handle him with no problem. “Okay.” He was big, sure, but I was soaked, ready, and tougher than I looked. 

Even Shinji still held me back from taking him into my mouth. “Hang on. Wanna make sure ya can take him first.” 

I saw no qualms and assumed both men were only being dramatic, messing with me, being the teases they both were.

Until he pushed past my entrance. 

My walls instinctively tightened around his invading member, pain shooting through my nether regions at the amount of pressure I hadn’t expected pushing through me. I understood now the whole ‘popping of the cherry.’ Something inside of me definitely broke. A little stretch. I had been foolish to think this would be simple for me. I felt like I was being drilled into, and he’d hardly even begun.

My eyes widened, pained gasps escaping my lips as I clutched the comforter beneath me for dear life. Of course, my actions didn't go unchecked by either of the men. While Shinji’s thin brows furrowed together in worry, Kisuke flattened his hand against my spine.

“You okay?” He asked, stilling his movement.

“Mhmph - yeah!” I nodded my head, attempting to fix my grimace and arch further, though the position only caused me greater pain.

He slowly pushed in further before pulling back again, stroking my back, repeating the languid, fluid motion. “You telling me the truth?”

Shinji grabbed my cheeks, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Talk to us.”

I couldn’t lie, not while staring into his warm eyes. “It - it just feels like…a really big cramp. It hurts a little,” I confessed.

“Yeah,” Kisuke sighed. “Thought so.”

He pulled out suddenly, leaving me cold and empty. My eyes widened again, panicked, desperate, afraid that they’d stop, that they’d leave.

“No, wait! Please!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kisuke assured gently. “Why don’t we try a different position?”

I deflated, blushing in the aftermath of my outburst. “Oh - okay.”

My embarrassment didn’t last long, not when Kisuke manhandled me into a new position, flat on my back. The room spun as I landed against the pillows with him knelt over me, prying my legs apart.  

“What about Shinji?” I mewled.

He appeared at my side, flopping down next to me. “Ya worried about me, lovebug?”

I ran my hands through his hair, drunk and in love with this stranger and his overly-sweet nicknames. “I don’t want to neglect you again.”

“How about I lay next to ya?” He tangled his fingers into my hair too, picking out a small, red rose. “You can talk to me while he fucks the flowers outta yer hair or whatever he said.”

“But I want to touch you.” I ran my hand down his chest and abs.

He shuddered involuntarily, chuckling nervously and grabbing ahold of my wandering hand. “That can be arranged. Don’t tire out yer wrist on my behalf though.”

“I won’t.” I stared at his lips, then his length, then back up again.

“Ahem.”

The both of us turned to Kisuke, still holding my legs apart, impatiently waiting to get between them.

“Sorry, boss,” Shinji laughed jeeringly. 

Kisuke ignored him. “Ready to try again?”

“Yes!” I responded enthusiastically. 

Shinji grabbed my cheeks, turning me towards him again. “Give me a kiss.” 

He didn’t give me another moment, crashing his lips into mine. Distracted, I realized it must've been his plan - to have his mouth on mine, giving me something to focus on while Kisuke pushed back into me. 

The both of us gasped as it went in, though mine got lost down Shinji’s throat. The stretch stung, but at this angle, the pain walked closely alongside pleasure, the pressure and fullness less of a stab to my guts and more of a comforting warmth now. I hardly kissed Shinji, drooling and whining into his parted lips instead as Kisuke stuffed me, pushing my legs further apart to accommodate himself as he continued to slowly fill me, more and more, inch by inch. 

“That feel better?” He rasped. 

I leaned away from Shinji just enough to nod dumbly. “Uh huh.”

“Feels good for me too,” he panted, paining himself with how slowly he moved in and out of me, “real good.”

Though I could hardly keep my eyes open, I didn’t allow myself to forget Shinji. I stole a page out of Kisuke’s book, spitting into my hand before wrapping it around the other blonde’s shaft, observing his features for a reaction. 

I got all of one and more, his eyes widening and cheeks heating as I began to stroke his cock. “Wh - whoa!” His hips stuttered into my hand at the sudden contact, his large hand covering mine to control my movements. 

“Let me help ya,” he insisted, guiding my wrist to twist and pull up and down his length, his eyes screwing shut, tucking his face into the pillows as he released a guttural moan, finally receiving relief.

The sound had me tightening around Kisuke, an overwhelming warmth blossoming in the pit of my stomach. “You…don’t…have to…” I told Shinji, though his hand felt heavy around my limpening wrist. 

“I know,” he said, staring at me through heavily-lidded eyes. “I want to.” He tiredly pressed his mouth to my temple, whispering into my hair. “I like holding yer hand…”

“Hold tight,” Kisuke interrupted, giving no further explanation before he started to increase his pace, snapping his hips into mine.

Squealing, squirming, without thinking, I squeezed the only thing in my grasp for support, not realizing what I’d done until Shinji tugged at my wrist. “Sh - shit! Easy, doll!”

“Oh! I’m s’sorry!” I stammered, barely able to hold on properly as Kisuke began to pound into me, inadvertently turning to face him. 

“Yer okay, baby. Just don’t want to cum too quick.”

Kisuke chuckled as the bed rocked, squeaking with each thrust, in tune with the wet noises coming from between my legs and Shinji’s. “Keep talking sweet to her Shinji,” he ordered. “She likes it - squeezing around my cock and making a mess.”

“My poor doll,” he pouted, pulling my hand over his length faster now. “Yer not used to being treated so well, huh?”

“No,” I moaned shakily.

He got closer, right in my ear, low, rough, sounding a bit unlike himself. “If I could, I’d kill that bastard and take his place. Ya know I would.”

My every move observed and analyzed, tested to find the best solution, Kisuke noticed my clenching around him again. “Shit. She likes that too.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, arching into the pillows, anchoring myself, a reminder of where I was. “Stop talking about him.”

“Shit. Sorry-” Shinji began, stopping my hand around him. 

“No.” I opened my eyes, snapping my head towards him. “I - I just don’t want to even think about him right now,” I revealed. “I want this one moment not to worry. Please,” I begged both of them. “Make me forget him.” 

They both stilled.

“Okay,” Shinji agreed.

“We will,” Kisuke said.

He resumed his brutal pace, drilling into me as Shinji pinned my wrist down at my side, using his other hand to fuck himself. I whined in protest, and so he lunged forward, latching his mouth around my nipple to shut me up. My torso convulsed and thighs twitched, overstimulated by the both of them on me at once. I could only scream and cry and thrash uselessly, the same buildup from earlier beginning to occur a second time, a hot, tight, ache forming in my core. 

They effectively distracted me, but only for a short while. As I neared my climax, all I could think of was the aftermath, the end, the hard truth that I would have to put my dress and kimono back on, that I would have to go out there, go back to pretending, go back to him and leave them. I couldn't stop the orgasm from coming, I couldn’t stop him from marrying me, and I couldn't stop them from leaving me. My emotions came crashing down, my sanity snapping before that coil did. Tears sprang from my eyes like tiny waterfalls, and for the first time, neither of these men had noticed me, had understood what they really meant. 

I clawed at Kisuke’s chest. I tried to squirm away from Shinji. In my fucked-out state of mind, I helplessly thought that maybe if I could stop them, then I could make this moment last forever. 

But they kept going, hands pinning me to the mattress, lips attacking me, eager for the end. It was too good to be true from the start, and it broke me. I thought of the shattered glass in the corner of the room, and I feared to become it. 

As a last ditch effort, I wailed and sobbed about what was on my mind, hardly coherent, desperately writhing against the sheets. “I - I don’t wanna marry him! I don’t wanna marry him!”

Shinji noticed me first, lifting his head from my chest, eyes going wide. “Hey, hey. Doll, look at me.” 

Kisuke didn’t stop, but he slowed, rolling his hips into me now seeing that my tears weren't from pleasure, but from deep within me. 

I weeped harder, my vision blurring as I tried to peer at Shinji. He wiped my cheeks, not stopping until I held eye contact long enough for his liking.

“Ya might be forced to take his last name tomorrow, but yer not his, not how it counts,” he said soberly, genuinely. “It’s okay,” he promised me. “Yer gonna be okay, baby. We have ya.”

Kisuke leaned over me, cradling my head. “I don’t care how big of a ring that pathetic fucking loser puts on your finger tomorrow,” he spewed harshly. “You’re our girl now. Understand?”

“Will I always be your girl?” I whimpered, needing his commitment most of all. 

“Yes.” He kissed me hungrily, in that depraved way of his, murmuring against my lips, “I want you to - if you ever can - come find me. Come find us.”

Shinji had taken to stroking himself again, his head thrown back, groaning, moaning, “say my name, baby, please say my name.”

“Shinji…” I reached for him, craving his warmth. “Shinji!”

With his free hand, he found my clit, rubbing it in time with Kisuke’s thrusts as he picked back up again. “Be a good girl and say his too? I know he wants to hear it.”

“Kisuke!” I cried, looking for him through my swollen, heavy eyes. 

He leaned over me, burying his face into my neck, grunting and groaning his way to the end as Shinji repeated, “yer not his, yer not his…”

My eyes fluttered shut as I climbed up again, higher and higher, almost to the top. I inhaled them and listened to them, staying here this time, embracing the bittersweet end, more sweet than bitter with these two handsome goofballs. 

I barely noticed that Kisuke had lifted himself up again, hoarsely demanding, “open your eyes.”

I obeyed. I wanted to find him. 

“Will you come with me again?” He asked, looking right through me.

“Yes.”

“Shinji? You coming too?”

The sloppy sound of his fist on his cock supported his response. “Hell yeah, I am.”

A few moments later, we’d become a jumble of incoherent words and noises and twitching limbs, the finale, the end as beautiful as the start. Flowers fell from my hair, just as Kisuke had promised, and the three of us glistened, glowing from sweat, covered in each others’ essences. Shinji and I took the brunt of it, his own juices coating his abdomen while mine showcased Kisuke’s. 

“Stay put. Both of you,” Kisuke commanded, one last time. 

Shinji’s head lolled to the side, a stupid, exhausted grin splitting open on his face. “Isn’t he dreamy?” He remarked teasingly. 

“So are you,” I whispered. 

He smiled softly. “Tryin’ to get me to blush, doll face?”

Too tired to come up with a retort, I stared at him, noticing the little things here and there that made him so stunning, and I doubted he knew it. He seemed to be watching me too, those soft brown eyes darting around my face before deciding, closing, leaning forward to kiss me chastely, somewhere between my eyes.

I hadn’t noticed Kisuke standing over me until he pressed tissues to my stomach, wiping away the evidence of what we’d done. “Prettiest bride in the world,” he said softly. 

“Stop remindin’ her, idiot,” Shinji chided, snatching tissues from his hand to clean himself up. 

“It’s okay,” I assured the both of them, smiling though it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “It was fun while it lasted.”

They fell silent, nothing but the sounds of the tissues doing their work and the occasional creak of the bed. I glanced towards the three candles, still burning. 

“Who says it's over yet?” Kisuke spoke up first, grinning playfully. 

Shinji and I shared a look, flinching when Kisuke flopped into the bed, landing on his side at our feet, propping himself up on his elbow. 

“Time for pillow talk!”

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

All good things must come to an end - the mantra I adopted when the Soul Reapers left, becoming nothing but a distant memory, a flashback I took solace in when faced with forced intimacy with my now-husband.

I accepted my fate, played the good wife, attempting to find other little joys in life. I built relationships with my new servants in his villa, took up new hobbies like baking, sewing, reading, and even writing when no one looked. Whatever I could do to fill the void, to fill the emptiness where there was an absence of love, I did. It never really was enough, but I had to make peace with that, some days better than others.

It was nighttime, and I was with him when a peculiar-looking butterfly landed on my shoulder, black with purple accents, whispering in my ear, a message for only me to hear. The hauntingly beautiful creature informed me that the Captains I knew, both Shinji Hirako and Kisuke Urahara, had been wrongfully stripped of their titles and banished from the Soul Society into the World of the Living. It fluttered away without any more, leaving me full of questions and evoking emotions I hadn’t properly felt in so long. 

“What are you looking at?” My husband snapped at me, paranoid. 

So he couldn’t see or hear the butterfly. Good. I kept my expression neutral. He’d never know what I heard, what I thought, what I felt, or what I planned to do. 

In the direction the butterfly came burned three candles, the only light to illuminate the dark room. I gestured towards them, my husband’s gaze curiously and angrily following to where I looked. 

“Just watching them burn.” I smiled. 

I’d heard through the grapevine of someone who knew how to get to the World of the Living, likely a criminal or at the very least, a shady individual. Risky as it was, I’d do whatever it took to get there, remembering what Kisuke told me, whether he truly meant it or not, “come find us.” I wondered if he knew then what awaited him, where he’d end up. 

I worked in secrecy to find a way, whatever that was, even if it killed me. I left in the night with no intention of coming back. Confused, terrified, and anxious, I held hope through it all, not stopping until I ended up in front of some shop in the World of the Living, a place called Karakura town. I prepared to turn away, to keep searching as two children questioned who I was and why I was here, arguing with each other, guarding the entrance like two little watchdogs. 

But then, a strange man came clacking out, outfitted in green all the way down to his clogs, even wearing an unusual, striped green hat that covered his eyes to match the rest. I tensed, getting ready to dart away with no idea of where I headed next. I clenched my fists and held my breath, releasing it all at once in a gasp as he lifted his head, blonde, shaggy hair peeking out from underneath the hat, along with those intense, green-gray eyes. 

“You found me.”

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

A/N: This was one of my favorite fics I’ve written to date. There’s probably a lot that inspired this that I’m forgetting or that went on subconsciously, but I want to specifically shout out @soulpager's insanely incredible fic you can read here, or on her AO3, that had protective Shinji on tha mind. I also want to shout out my fellow sister wives of the Shinji Nation who urged me to do the Shinji and Kisuke threesome and who always leave me with lots of thoughts, ideas and inspiration in general! 

( ˶˘ ³˘)♡ STAY FREAKY

Tags: @soprawrites

[secretlycursedd]

Okay, I've been thinking about this for a long time, so here's my (probably unpopular) take on Jack and Dean's relationship (With examples of Dean loving and caring for Jack).

Let me start by saying that I don't consider myself either a Dean girl or a Sam girl (If you think about it, I'm actually more of a Jack girl), so my opinion is unbiased and doesn't lean towards just one brother (I love them equally).

I think the main reason why people think Dean really hated Jack is because of the complexity of his character.

Dean's defense mechanism is aggression, so every time he is scared, upset, doesn't know what to do, he starts getting angry and aggressive, and obviously this is not a healthy coping mechanism, but no one said that Dean is obviously a positive character who only does good. No, this is a complex character with childhood trauma, a soldier's upbringing and a lot of problems and responsibilities on his shoulders, he will not waste time sorting out all his feelings and putting them on the shelves, he will act in a way that is best for the majority, but this doesn't mean that his actions are necessarily right or that his actions fully reflect his feelings to a particular situation. His main rule in life is literally "Shoot first, think later." And because of that, a lot of things he said to Jack or did to him were mean or evil, but that doesn't mean Dean actually hated him to the core.

For example, after Mary died, Dean literally told Castiel that he was dead to him, and then they didn't talk and Dean didn't even want to hear about taking a step towards Castiel and forgiving him, but for some reason I haven't seen people say that Dean hates Castiel. Because he doesn't, and the same thing is true with Jack.

"Oh but Dean was mad at Jack, all those horrible things he said" Because Jack killed his mom???? Like are you trying to tell me you wouldn't be mad at the person who killed your mom (even if he didn't do it on purpose)? Dean's reaction and behavior were completely justified, and I'm not saying the things he said or did were right or good, I'm saying they were realistic. Dean may have loved Jack and cared about him, but he always loved his mom more, and of course her death (which happened not for the first time) hit Dean harder than Jack needing support.

And it's precisely because of Dean's complexity and character that characters like Sam and Castiel seemed like great father figures to Jack, because they had the privilege of emotions and time, and it always had been that way.

Sam was always able to show weakness and express his emotions, precisely because Dean didn't have that luxury. Sam always had time to think things through and be more gentle because Dean, who was always on guard, had his back. And it's not that Sam loved Jack more, it's that he had the opportunity to approach Jack from a different angle, and Dean was the one who gave him that opportunity.

The funny thing is that Jack and Dean are mirrors of each other in some ways. I think a lot of people focused so much on how the show paralleled Sam and Jack that the parallels between Dean and Jack went unnoticed because they weren't so obvious, but that doesn't mean they weren't there.

Both Jack and Dean grew up without mothers, had abusive fathers, were forced to grow up way too early, and were both forced to grow up into a life of hunters and warriors, neither of them asking for it, but they had no choice.

Dean and Jack loved the same people (Sam and Castiel) and were willing to do anything to protect them, even sacrifice themselves, but they both forgot that they weren't the only ones who could love, and that all these people they were trying to protect loved them too, and that's what's problematic about their relationship. It's not about hate, it's because they're actually so similar, and to some extent it was difficult for both of them to see their own feelings reflected in each other.

For example, when Dean insisted on letting Jack die, he literally did it to save the only and most important person he had left (Sam), but Jack himself was willing to do it, not only to atone for his guilt for Mary's death, but also to save his family.

Dean and Jack did not hate each other, they just had people they loved more than each other, and to protect them they were both willing to do anything, which once again parallels them.

And in a world where everyone only remembers the bad between Jack and Dean, let's remember the good.

For example, how Dean worried about Jack when he was in pain and dying, and he tried to do everything to ease his pain and make everything better.

Overall, this entire episode (14x07) confirms everything I wrote above.

Like the parallels such as Jack saying he doesn't want to be special anymore and that before he dies he just wants to live his life, and that's literally Dean's entire arc in season 15, how he wanted to break free from God's control and live his own life. The way Jack himself says he's like Dean, and Dean gently denies it, even though we then literally get visual confirmation that they are similar. The way Dean wanted to give Jack a day filled with the things Dean loved, and how Jack ultimately wanted to go fishing because Dean told him he did it with John. Jack always saw Dean as his third father, and there's no arguing with that.

How Dean couldn't stand to see Jack die, but Jack needed him.

The fact that Jack's heaven included all three of the most important people in his life - Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

Also some of my favorite moments are how Dean constantly calls Jack "their kid" (which just goes to show that he always loved and accepted Jack).

And the fact that even Nick talks about Jack having three dads.

And one of my favorite moments, which even made me cry when I watched it for the first time, was when Dean baked Jack a birthday cake.

They were always a full-fledged family, Dean has always been as much of a father to Jack as Sam or Castiel, and Dean always took care of Jack, and I think their relationship is one of the best and most complex in the entire series. Yes, Jack was not the most important person in Dean's life, just as Dean was not the most important person for Jack, but they still loved each other and did so until the very end.

[macarxncito]

Thoughts on KARMA (ALNST) (Part 2)

<< Part 1, Part 3 >>

!!!! MAJOR ALNST SPOILERS BELOW !!!!

~~~

Return of the fallen angel motif <3 they're literally falling <3 it's not subtle in the slightest <3

Notice that Luka isn't present in this clip, I'm not entirely sure why but I think maybe it's reflecting Mizi's own views on Luka and how she doesn't see him as being worthy of forgiveness?????

My apologies... I'm about to talk about IvanTill again... BECAUSE HOLY SHIT IF THIS DOESN'T CONFIRM THAT IVANTILL ISN'T UNREQUITED THEN NOTHING DOES

Till appears confused and uncertain before he grabs Ivan's hand (emphasis on the fact that Till grabs Ivan's hand). He then looks at Ivan (Till looks at Ivan, they actually meet each other's gaze for once and Till is the one that initiates it, should I just kms) and smiles at him and we can see the way his gaze physically softens

YOU ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND THEY MAKE ME SO VIOLENTLY ILL THIS WHOLE MOMENT MAKES ME SO VIOLENTLY ILL

IvanTill you will always be my favorite example of a romance doomed by miscommunication and the circumstances of its existence that could've been beautiful if only given enough time </3 right person not enough time type shit </3

~~~

We finally got our MiziSua kiss!!!!!! A win for yuri nation <3

I think what's interesting about this to me is that it does confirm that kissing is still an act of love in the alnst universe, when the ivti kiss happened in r6 people were analyzing it and arguing that kisses might not have the same meaning that they do in our world but this scene seems to dismiss that argument

That being said, I don't think it's entirely appropriate to compare the MiziSua kiss to the IvanTill kiss because their circumstances are very obviously different, this is very obviously meant to be a gentle and loving kiss while the r6 kiss was a whole other issue lol

~~~

I've seen people say that the ending to alnst doesn't do Hyuna justice and that her character kind of got tossed aside but I think this moment and these lines disprove that

Hyuna is a very tragic character and also one that I think many can find relatable in the way that she spent her life running from her past. Every seemingly selfless decision she made held a secret selfishness as she sought to bury her pain beneath a sense of justice and Mizi was the only one that could see it (perhaps she saw it in herself as well)

I think people who see her as a dissatisfying character probably haven't listened to her sub songs

Also almost forgot to point out that Hyuna has a Luka poster

~~~

Just wanted to include this because I think these lines are the main message of alnst as a whole <3

And also because the visuals are beautiful lol the one with the rabbits kinda reminds of vivinos' Tili Tili Bom video (I know those were rats in that video but you get the vibe)

~~~

I don't see enough people acknowledging just how beaten up Mizi got by her own fellow rebels, I guess it's kinda fucked up that she rerouted the missile and also shot Isaac's leg but still goddamn lol

~~~

The fact that even as she holds Till's body in her arms she's still thinking about Sua </3 love a queen who haunts the narrative

~~~

This was the moment when I realized I'd have to apologize to a lot of my friends lol

Listen gang, I really did not think Till would still be alive!!!!!! I didn't think vivimeng would pull a plot twist like that!!!!!!! Especially after almost a full calendar year!!!!!!!! It makes me very conflicted because of course I'm happy one of my favorite characters of all time is alive but I'm also frustrated with myself for being so confidently wrong lmao

I've also found it difficult to be enthusiastic when I've already received so many I-told-you-so's from an obnoxious number of Till alivists lol

Anyway, welcome back to my favorite latino

This expression... omg gang... she could hear his heartbeat... she was ready to lay down her own life and sacrifice every last person on that stage and yet... she knew she had to get him out of there... she'd just gotten beaten by her own comrades and yet still she reached out to Isaac with such desperation on her face so she could ensure Till's safety

~~~

It's not clear in the screenshots with the way the subtitles are laid out but Isaac specifically says "to love" when Sua's on screen and "and be loved" when Ivan's on screen

Just wanted to target this specifically at the people who say Ivan was loved by no one (SO loud and SO wrong)

<< Part 1, Part 3 >>

[tttabii]

── 박종성 STATESIDE ; PARK JONGSEONG

“you could be my american, hot, hot boy...” pairing ۶ৎ childhoodbsf!jay x obsessive!reader ; genre: fluff, suggestive, murders, kinda like ghostface. mentions of jennie from blackpink, yeonjun from txt, ryujin from itzy. word count: 2043. exa's note: no part 2 because its just a small drabble and i didnt manage to save it

HE HAD NEVER SUSPECTED A THING. 

Jay Park—your school's golden boy, all quiet smirks and soft calloused fingers playing his guitar in the quad as though he wasn't sending every girl on the campus into a frenzy. Kind, charming, top of his class. Too polite to ever turn someone down outright, too forgiving to disregard.

He didn't even mind the sudden spike in murders across Seoul lately—just brushed it off as bad luck and poor law enforcement.

You did.

Because you were behind them.

Well, not all of them. Jennie took care of the messier hits—the ones that were purely chaos. Body parts strewn all over the alley walls and news anchors stumbling over their words live on television.

Yeonjun was the dramatic actor—always talking about the way in which people scream or the way their voices broke under duress.

Ryujin? Very similar to you. She was in love. She was protective. She was possessive.

But you? You killed with motive.

And that motive was Jay.

"She just got sick or something right?" Jay said, brow furrowing at the headline on his phone.

One of the girls who always hung around at band practice had apparently died. A rare infection contracted in a hospital. Totally tragic.

At him, blinking wide-eyed and hugging your arms tight around yourself, as though the thought had chilled you to your bones. You actually shivered enough for him to reach out to rub small circles on your back to ease your discomfort.

"I don't like talking about stuff like that," you murmured, playing the part perfectly.

He softened. "Sorry. I forgot you're so sensitive about that kind of stuff."

Right, sensitive.

Not that you were the one who parked on the street, slipped into the hospital in the middle of the night dressed in nurse scrubs, pressed a pillow into her fragile little face until her fighting had slowed and finally stopped.

Not that you made sure that the cameras had a mysterious malfunction that night at the hospital.

Jay could never know.

Not your Jay.

It got worse when that other girl started hanging around him like she had a right to him. She had the audacity to follow you both into the convenience store, and even tried to insert herself into the moment. He was just trying to pick an ice cream flavor, standing in front of the freezer aisle with his hands in his pockets, quietly talking to you.

He always spoke gently to you. You looked up, smiled innocently.

"Whichever one you think I'd like," you said, all sweet and sugary.

And that is when she shrieked—literally shrieked and came running over, grabbing onto his arm with her nails and fake laughing. "Jayyyy, you have to get one for me too! We can all have ice cream together at recess, right?"

At that moment, all you wanted to do was stab her in the eye with the little wooden stick that came with the ice cream.But instead, you smiled.

Because Jay wouldn't like it if you lost it. In front of people.He ruffled your hair like you were a cat, then handed the cashier his wallet. "Go outside with her for a second, yeah? I got this."

You went outside. And when he came outside after a moment, he held out a little box to you.

"Surprise."

Your eyes lit up instantly—a new vape, the same flavor you liked, the same one you had mentioned offhandedly last week when your other ran out.

He remembered. Of course he remembered. He always remembered.

This smile was real—until you saw her staring at you, expression all twisted like she'd just caught him cheating.

Cheating? He was never hers to begin with.

Later, you sat on the bench in the campus park, the three of you squeezed together, though Jay was clearly closer to you. You leaned on his side, licking your ice cream slowly while popping open the vape box with your other hand.

The girl was disgusted. "You vape?"

Jay looked up, bored. "I do too."

Her jaw dropped. "Since when?!"

You smirked into your ice cream.

"I bought this for the both of us," Jay said, tossing away the box in his bag. The double standards were ridiculous.

When she tried to lean on him in the same way you did, Jay disregarded her easily.

"Why can she do it and I can't?" she said angrily.

"Because-"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"No-"

"Then why not me?" she huffed, her voice elevating wildly.

Jay sighed while scratching the nape of his neck. "Because she's someone that I've known for a long time."

"I've known you for a long time too!"

And at that point, you finally looked up from your vape, still leaning against Jay's side like you owned it.

"Being in the same class as him and fangirling from the back row does not count as knowing him." you said flatly, your voice soft but dangerous af. "You just stared at him in the most delusional little fan kind of way. Not the same."

She froze, cheeks burning bright red in embarrassment, and finally stormed off, throwing away her ice cream that was half melted. 

Jay chuckled, nudging your shoulder. "You didn't have to go that hard."

You leaned against him again. "She was being annoying."

He didn't argue.

He never did when it came to you.

Later that night, after slipping into the penthouse, Jennie was waiting for you, black gloves still faintly stained red, boots tracking blood across the marble floor.

"Lay low," she said without looking up. "There's another group trying to start something downtown. Don't get involved."

"Whatever." You shrugged. "I'm not in the mood to kill tonight."

Yeonjun laughed from the kitchen, knife still stained in blood. "You're never in the mood unless someone flirts with Jay."

Ryujin walked behind you, resting a hand briefly on your head. "Don't pay attention to them. You know she's just overprotective of her boy."

Your boy.

Yours.

Jay didn't know how much you had shed blood on his behalf. How many lives you had taken or removed from his life without him noticing.

How many cameras were hidden in every corner of his room, even that cute teddy bear you got him for his birthday. Most night you watched him sleep through your phone.  

The scent of rich pasta and sizzling garlic filled the warm dorm room, wrapping itself around you like Jay's blanket draped over your shoulders. You were curled up on the bed, surrounded by the plushies he let you bring over—your favorites, of course.

Jay always let you get your way. He was at the stove, humming softly to himself as he gave the pot a swirl, throwing shy glances at you every moments, blissfully unaware of the tornado ripping through your mind.

You sighed, lips wrapped around your vape as you pulled slow and deep drags, smoke curling from your lips like a whisper.

Your phone buzzed in your hand once again. And again. And again.Your eye twitched.

With a groan, you tossed your phone across the room—gently enough not to break it, but hard enough that it knew you were mad. You heard it thud to the floor, and Jay glanced over at you from the kitchen.

"What's going on, Princess?" he murmured, his voice deep and soothing like honey on gravel. That voice alone could send shivers through your bones. He turned back to his cooking but you knew he was still listening. 

You exhaled another plume of smoke, shaking your head and laughing softly.

"Your beloved little friend is spamming me again. Told me to stay away from you. Something about me being 'possessive' or 'clingy'." You did a mock gasp. "Imagine that."

Jay wiped his hands dry on a towel and ambled over, a plate of pasta gripped in his fingers. He picked up your phone from the floor, unlocked it with your obvious approval (he had your passcode anyway).

The screen lit up to dozens of angry messages from her. But what made him furrow his brow for a moment was the flashing notification for a CCTV monitoring app. Jay's Dorm. Camera 2. Motion Detected.

You knew he saw it but didn't ask questions. He never did. His trust in you was too great. You could burn everything to cinders and he'd probably still think you had clean hands.

But when he said, "I'm serious, if it might make you feel better, I'll stop being friends with her," there really wasn't a lot of point in keeping your excitement bottled up anymore.

Your eyes lit up like colored fireworks, a huge smile broke across your face before you could help it. You set the vape aside, almost knocking over a stuffed toy as you grabbed his hand.  

Jay simply chuckled, entertained, and moved his hand up to your head, giving you that sweet head rub that made you swoon. His fingers traced down the side of your face, grazing bare skin down to your arm—warm, grounding, and totally his.

You almost shivered from the contact.

Fuck, you thought. If it wasn't so weird, you would have moaned right then and there. You wanted to imprint your name onto his skin, to brand him, to let the world know that he was yours. Even if he didn't know it yet. 

The next morning, the mood on campus buzzed like a kicked beehive.

A new murder. Another body.

This time? One of your seniors. One of Jay's friends. The girl had just handed him a homemade cookie on Monday, blushing, giggling. You smiled at her too, sweetly. And then, the next day, she was on the news. They found her body behind the art building, cold, eyes wide in horror, and throat slit too cleanly for it to be a mugging.

Jay had gone pale when he saw the headline. You were already snuggled into his chest, face buried in his hoodie, pretending to be scared.

"There there," he murmured into your hair, "you're with me. You're safe. These murders... they're always around campus, always around people I know. I just... I'll protect you, okay?"

You almost laughed. Oh, Jay... he didn't even know how close he was to the truth. And how far away.

That afternoon back in his dorm, lightness settled back in. You and him were tangled up in each other on his bed, play wrestling and laughing. He was trying to distract you, trying to get you to forget about the news, forget about fear. He tickled you on your sides, and you squealed, grabbed a pillow, and hit him in the face. He tackled you back, and you rolled and laughed until it hurt.

At one point, he was on top of you, your hands pinned, clothes a mess, hair tangled, and lipstick smeared. Then—knock knock knock. You blinked up at him, breathless. "I'll get it," you said sweetly, lips curled as you stood up. 

Jay turned around, chuckling to himself as he adjusted the bed, straightening up the pillows and tossing the comforter back in place. But the moment the door opened, she was right there in front of you.

Jay's "friend."

She was staring at you, her eyes narrowing right away. And then her eyes dropped—to your lipstick smudged mouth, and then to Jay as he came into view. Her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened a little, in shock. Because there it was—your lipstick all over his neck.

He didn't realize. But she did. "What...?" she started.

Jay blinked. "Oh, hey. What's up?"

"You..." she looked at you, then motioned to him. "You guys are sleeping together?"

You were smiling, slow and venomous. "Oh no, don't be silly. Jay is just very... affectionate."

Jay scratched his neck, confused. "Uh, we were just messing around. Pillow fight. You know how she is."

Your lipstick. On his skin.

She knew. You knew she knew.

She stormed off, and you stood in the doorway, watching her retreating figure with a sweet, serene look on your face. Jay looked down at you and finally noticed the smudge near your lips.

"...Did I get lipstick on me?"

You turned to him, and your smile grew wider. "Mhm. Do you want me to mark the other side too?"

Jay rolled his eyes with playfulness. "You're crazy."

You leaned in, put your hands on his chest, and whispered, "You have no idea."

[ladyhawke]

BLACK SAILS + Valentine’s Day Cards (insp.)