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#and so he - as a person and guy - just lives here now
verstappenverse · 2 days
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Revved Up
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.
Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂
1.4k words / Masterlist
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Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.
You.
More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.
As he scrolled eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.
Your ex.
The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.
'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.
Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.
He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.
You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.
“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.
“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tend to only happened when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.
You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”
He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”
“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”
Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.
You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”
Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”
His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”
You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed but his expression didn't change ,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”
You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”
He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.
Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”
“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”
There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.
“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”
“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.
You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max, it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”
He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”
You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”
“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”
You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”
He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”
“Still what?”
“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”
You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”
“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”
Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.
You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.
“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”
He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”
You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”
“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t forget it.”
The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.
“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.
He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”
“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”
You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well, good thing I’m all yours, huh?”
“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”
You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”
But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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sukirichi · 3 days
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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 020 ]
“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”
cw. angst, living like criminals (lol), implied smut, unedited.
notes. you guys I can’t believe we finally reached the ending! this was such a long but enjoyable ride and I cannot thank you all enough for being so supportive in this series <3 this chapter is really long but I hope you guys enjoy it and happy ber-months!! (also just a lil note that we still have an epilogue – and yes, I’ve finished writing that too, so whatever happens in the ending… know we’ll still have some tidbits for the epilogue!)
wc. 19k
series masterlist 
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[ TWENTY ] all of the small things that you do are what remind me why I fell for you. and when we’re apart and I’m missing you, I close my eyes and all I see is you and the small things you do.
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You didn’t know what woke you up first – the birds chittering outside, the soft rustling of the sheets beside you, or the low groans emanating from your husband.
Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting its golden glow as it kissed your eyelids and gently coaxed you from sleep. The soft chittering of birds outside the cabin filled the morning air with a melody so pure and light it almost felt like a dream. The world was still, bathed in an ethereal calm that seemed almost too perfect to be a real.
You wondered if it was. Real. True – you laid there, cocooned in your thin blankets that you got in a fleece market, breathing in the scent of pine and fresh morning dew, as if trying to memorize this magical peace. It was so quiet that it felt almost deafening, so different from everything you’d known before, that it was hard to believe this life was now yours. No more waking up at the same time everyday while servants bathed and dressed you. No more awkward breakfasts filled with tension as you discussed politics. Instead, your mornings felt like this – waking up whenever you liked, and having home cooked meals that was sometimes taken by leaning against the countertops, cereal bowls in hand as you discussed with your husband what you’d do for the day. Not that there was much to do – Rintaro chopped wood, you washed your clothes and prepared the meals, and he kept the house warm.
Waking up in the light of early morning, the familiar scent of pine and crisp mountain air filled the small cabin. The bed was warm, and as you stirred, your hand instinctively reached out to search for him. The roughness of his palm met yours, and you felt his fingers curl around yours gently, the gesture silently confirming that it was real – he was real – and that none of it was a dream. You turned your head, and there he was. Rintaro, still half-asleep, his eyes closed with his lips slightly curled downwards. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him a moment longer.
Had he always been like this? When was the last time you’d shared the same bed as him back in your old country? Looking back at it… it’d been almost a year before your wedding that you did. Despite greeting the new day by being tangled in the sheets all night long, Rintaro rarely stayed the night when you were still dating. He’d always leave with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you’d be too exhausted – bone weary and pleasured in all the best of ways – to ask him to stay. And when you had been married… there were plenty of beds, but none to be shared.
But now, he was here, as he had been for the past six months. Waking up next to you with always the same expression – his arm slung across his forehead because his eyes were too sensitive to the light, and his lips turned in a frown because he would’ve slept forever if he could. I could never be a morning person, he’d mumbled once, a mug of coffee in hand, I don’t get how you look so beautiful this early, though. Maybe that’s the only good thing about waking up.
What is? you’d teased and acted coy, and Rintaro would hide his blush behind his mug. Seeing you first thing in the morning, he’d say.
Without thinking, you leaned in, gently pushing his arm that blocked your way so you could brush your lips against his forehead. It was a simple gesture, one you had shared with him countless of times before, but it never lost its meaning. It was your silent way of saying, “Good morning,” in the hopes that it’d reassured him that, despite everything, the two of you were still together, and would stay together through thick and thin.
Rintaro grumbled beneath you, as he always did whenever you kissed him. Six months of the two of you navigating this new life together, and he still acted like a stranger at times. Today, however, he welcomed it a little bit. His grumblings were incoherent, his hand flying to rest against your waist as you hovered over him, trying to memorize all the details on his face and how he’d changed. For one, his hair had grown a little too long. It reached the nape of his neck and flared out into wispy spikes, the tendrils soft yet curling around your finger. Two, his stubble was becoming more prominent, the dark shadow present across his face. If you swiped your palm against his jaw, it’d feel uncomfortably sharp.
Not that you minded. Smiling to yourself, you reached over to press another kiss to his nose when Rintaro stopped you, your wrist caught in his arm. “Don’t,” he warns in a low voice laced heavily with sleep, “You said my stubble hurts you.”
“It’s just itchy. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Yeah, but you still don’t like it,” he pouted, and you bit back the giggle threatening to pour out of you.
The peace of the moment was broken only by the soft rumble of your stomach. You winced at the sound and slipped out of bed, padding softly across the wooden floor to the small kitchen. The pantry door creaked as you opened it, revealing nearly empty shelves. A couple of cans, a bag of rice, and some dried herbs – enough for one meal, maybe two.
You felt Rintaro’s presence behind you before you heard him, his hands snaking around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You were running low on groceries again, but it didn’t worry you. This life, however simple and secluded, was a far cry from the grandiosity of the palace, but it was yours. And in this quiet cabin, up high in the mountains in a country at the other side of the world where no one knew you, you’d found a strange sort of peace.
“We’re running low.”
“Huh?” Rintaro mumbled against your shoulder, raising his eyes to eye the shelf. It was nearly empty, and he hummed to himself, confused. “We just checked our stock two weeks ago. I was sure it’d last us a few more weeks.”
You snorted, not making any attempts to remove his arm around your waist as you picked up the cans. Green beans, mushrooms, and some off-brand cheap tuna that tasted so salty you felt like you’d licked the sea. “Yeah, two weeks ago. You eat like a bear, Rin.”
“Oh. Sorry,” he released his hold around you, and stepped away. Scratching the back of his neck, he tipped his chin in the direction of the shelves. “We should go down later to get groceries. I heard there was a night market, too, and I still have some money left to get whatever you like.”
You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“I insist,” he said, eyeing your bare neck, ears, and wrists. Just six months ago, you’d been decorated in the finest of stones and most exquisite gowns. Now? You wore whatever would fit you from the thrift shops, and you hadn’t worn any accessories aside from your wedding ring ever since arriving here. It just didn’t make sense to keep wearing your old garments when you needed to keep a low profile. So you’d stashed and kept all your old clothes at the back of some rotting cabinet, occasionally checking to see if it was still in good condition in case you needed to sell it for some extra cash. You didn’t mind the change, truth be told. But you could tell Rintaro was struggling to see you in this light – walking around barefoot, dressed in his tattered and loose sweaters that you hadn’t washed in days because soap was hard to come by, and your face bare of anything.
You didn’t look like a Princess, but you didn’t have to. You weren’t one anymore.
Rintaro sighed.  “It’s been a long time since you got yourself something you liked. I want to spoil you, even if its just for tonight.”
You grimaced, unsure of what to say. “I appreciate that but… we should really use the money for something else, Rin. You know we can’t afford to buy anything that isn’t essential right now,” you reminded him, gnawing on your lip as you both danced around the undeniable fact looming overhead. “The money my parents gave us won’t last forever.”
“I could get a job.”
“No,” you responded without skipping a beat, “Not an option. It’s too risky. You and I could be recognized and it’s just… We’re okay, Rin. What we have now? The life we have together? I can’t just let it go. There’s no way I’m letting you be exposed out there.”
Rintaro was silent for a moment. You knew he knew you were right – you could be in the middle of nowhere and still be recognized. He’d spent his entire life being in the limelight, his every move publicized on television and the media. He would be easy to point out from the crowd even if his hair grew a little longer, a little more unkempt. Regardless of the truth that he wasn’t a royal by blood, he could never shake off the elegance in which he moved with, or the mannerisms that weren’t normal in this country’s culture. Just thinking about him being separated from you because of something as foolish as a job… you couldn’t stomach the thought of it.
“But we can’t keep living like this,” he argued softly, looking around your old, dusty cabin with a weary expression. “Just barely getting by.”
“We’ll find a way, okay?” you reassured him, reaching over to cup his face. He’d been pestering you to let him go to town so he can find a stable source of income for months now, but you were stubborn. You’d watched over him like a walk just to ensure he wouldn’t leave. But he was right, there had to be something you or him could do to do more than just survive. “We’ll talk about it tonight. I promise.”
That night, you and Rintaro set out to brave through the weather. The cold winter air nipped at your face as you and Rin stepped into the grocery store, the warmth inside immediately welcoming. The both of you were bundled up in thick sweaters, scarves, and hats, trying to keep the biting chill at bay. Your hand found its way into his, and he squeezed it gently, offering both comfort and warmth as you navigated the aisles together.
This was only your third time grocery shopping, and it still felt strange, almost like playing house. The abundance of choices, the unfamiliar task of sticking to a budget, and the realization that you now had to manage everything on your own – it was all new, and both thrilling and daunting. You remembered the first time you arrived here, Rintaro had unknowingly picked out whatever he liked, careless of the prices simply because he’d never had to think about it before. But as soon as you reached the checkout counter, and your money wasn’t enough, he’d shamefully put back everything – chocolates, salty chips, wine. It left an impression to the cashiers working, and it was another two months before you both had enough courage to return.
Now, though, you were more familiar with it. You both moved slowly, scanning the shelves with a mix of curiosity and caution. Rin paused in front of a display of cookies, his hand reaching out to grab a box of your favorites. You hesitated, a mix of longing and practicality battling in your mind. “Put that back,” you said softly, glancing at the price tag. It was enough to make your pockets hurt. It was the good kind of cookies – artisan, with premium dark chocolate.
“Why?” Rin asked, holding the box up as if examining it more closely. “You like these cookies.”
“They’re way over our budget,” you explained, trying to ignore how much you wanted to take them home. God, those cookies and some hot cocoa with marshmallows on top, along with a good show playing on TV? If you had some TV! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? It’d be the perfect way to spend winter at home.
“But these are your favorite,” he insisted, and there was a warmth in his voice that made you stop and look at him.
You frowned slightly, confused. “How’d you know that? I never told you.”
A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You keep eyeing them each time we come down this aisle, and it’s the only thing you finish in one sitting. This is the only snack you never portion out. You last ate these two months ago.”
Your heart skipped a beat, touched by how closely he paid attention to the smallest things. His eyes were soft, full of a tenderness that made you momentarily forget the cold and the weight of everything else.
“Come on,” he urged gently, placing the box of cookies in the cart despite your earlier protest. “We’re not going to starve if you let yourself have this treat.”
You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes made you relent. There was something so sweet, so earnest about the way he cared for you, even in these small moments. You found yourself smiling, warmth spreading through you as you let the moment sink in. And you tried so very had, you really did, to forget about the price tag. He was right that you wouldn’t starve. Still, you couldn’t afford to be careless, just as you didn’t have the heart to say no to him when he seemed like he’d be moments away from getting down on his knees and say ‘just get the damned cookies!’ It almost made you laugh, and you thought about how Rintaro was slowly becoming more like the Rintaro you’d known – before everything fell apart.
How he’d always watched you closely to know everything you liked. How you’d often find everything you were eyeing at your bedroom the next day, with a handwritten card for him that read: anything that catches your eye is yours. love, rin. How he always knew you wanted something before you even said it out loud.
The titles had been stripped off of you, and the grandeur was left behind in a kingdom that lost its glory. But he was still Rin, your Rin. And you liked him a little more when he didn’t have his Crown.
As you continued down the aisle, your hand still firmly in his, you let his warmth seep into you. You went into an automatic mode after that – just following him around while he picked out the cheapest products to restock. He struggled a little when your hand was still tightly wound in his, though he made no move to move away.
The cold, biting air greeted you again as you and Rin stepped out of the grocery store, the sky a dull gray that hinted at more snow to come. Rin insisted on carrying all the bags, despite how heavy they were, his breath growing visible in the cold as he shouldered the weight without complaint. His broad shoulders hunched slightly against the chill, but he kept his usual calm demeanor, his focus entirely on getting everything to the car.
You both had recently managed to get a car – a cheap, low-key one that didn’t attract much attention. It was far from the luxurious vehicles you were once accustomed to, but it was practical, blending in perfectly with the other cars in town. As Rin loaded the bags into the trunk, you couldn’t help but watch him. Rin kept a careful distance as he moved, his hesitance evident. Even now, after everything you had been through together, there was still a space between you –an invisible line that he seemed too afraid to cross. He was always respectful, always careful, but you could see it in his eyes, in the way he held himself back: he still felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, like he was just a nobody and you were still the princess, despite the life you were trying to build together. And he couldn’t be any more wrong.
The drive back to the cabin was quiet, the car heater humming softly as you passed through the snow-covered landscape. It felt almost like playing house, like you were a normal husband and wife just going about their day, but there was that undercurrent of tension, the unspoken fears and doubts that Rin carried with him, no matter how much you tried to show him that none of it mattered to you. Because everyone knew, the whole world knew, you weren’t a normal husband and wife. You’d been a Princess and he’d been a Prince, both destined to be great leaders only to come out like this – walking in public with your heads down, faces concealed, and desperately trying to mask your accent in the hopes no one would pick up on the recognizable Inarizaki dialects. Normal married couples didn’t go around falling for people outside their marriages, too, yet here you were. Rintaro with an ex-girlfriend he almost had a family with if she hadn’t aborted, and you… You looked out the window, shaking away any thoughts of him.
It’d been six months. Six months where you didn’t utter his name. Six months where you refused to bring up to your memory how his voice sounded like, how his curls felt so soft when you ran your hands through it. You’d lived for a good six months without him, and you were determined to never think about him ever again.
This was the life you had now – a life where Kiyoomi couldn’t fit in the puzzle pieces. He was someone you loved in the past, and whatever lingering feelings that still longed for him, whatever dreams of his face that haunted you and kept you awake at night – all of it had to be buried. Because all you had was Rintaro, and you were all he had, too. Never in a million years could you abandon your husband for a twisted, short-lived love affair.
He’s free now, you reminded yourself. If I went back to him… he would’ve never been freed from everything that made him miserable. It’s what you tell yourself when no one was looking. It’s what you prayed to believe every night, what you hoped to be real when you knew you still would’ve loved to hear from him.
When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you both worked to bring the groceries inside, setting them on the small kitchen counter. The cabin was warm, a contrast to the biting cold outside, and you could see Rin visibly relax once you were indoors. Still, he kept that distance, even as you unpacked the bags together. You handed him the box of cookies, a small smile playing on your lips.
“You know,” you began softly, watching him place the cookies in the pantry, “I don’t care about any of it.”
He paused, his back to you, but you saw the slight stiffening of his shoulders. “Any of what?” he asked, his voice careful, guarded.
“All of it,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your hand gently resting on his arm. “The money, the status... all of it.”
Rin turned to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours, still filled with that doubt, that lingering fear that he wasn’t enough. You could see how deeply it pained him, the thought that he might be holding you back, that he wasn’t worthy of the life you were building together.
“You’re all I care about,” you continued, your voice steady, hoping he could hear the truth in your words. I’ve forgotten him. I chose you. I need to forget him – I don’t want to think about him. “I don’t care that we’re not living in a palace or that we have to drive around in a beat-up old car. This–” you gestured around the cozy cabin, the groceries, the simple life you were making together “–this is enough for me. You’re enough for me.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you like he was trying to find the right words. The tension between you felt thick, almost tangible, as you waited for him to respond. Then, with a slow, almost reluctant nod, Rin let out a breath, the weight on his shoulders seeming to ease just a fraction.
“Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was something in his eyes –something that told you he was trying to believe it, trying to let go of that doubt, even if it would take time.
You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. He leaned into your touch, just slightly, as if testing the waters, and for a moment, the space between you seemed to disappear. It hurt to see him hold himself back, to watch him act as if he had to prove himself worthy of your presence, of your love. You wished he could see himself the way you saw him: the man who had sacrificed everything, who had chosen you despite the dangers, who had stood by you when the world crumbled around you.
As you stood there, close enough to feel the warmth of his body against yours, you knew that this was where you belonged – with him, in this quiet, simple life. It wasn’t the life you had once imagined for yourself, filled with grandeur and endless possibilities, but it was a life that was real, a life built on shared struggles and small, precious moments like this. You had made your choice, and it was Rin you chose – Rin you would stay with, no matter how your heart had once pulled in another direction.
There was a time when the thought of leaving the man you truly loved would have been unbearable, when the idea of letting go of that dream would have broken you. But now, standing beside Rin, you realized that you had already begun to let go, to accept that some things were not meant to be. You had chosen loyalty, not just out of duty, but because you wanted to. You wanted to build something new, something solid, with the man who had been through so much with you. And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe it too.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, averting his gaze to stare at his feet instead. “It’s not… it’s going to take me a while. To become who you want, I mean. And I’m not sure if it’s going to be worth the wait but I just wanted you to know that… that I’m trying. I really am. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there, but I hope when I do, if I do, you’re still going be there.”
You nodded, a small, relieved laugh escaping your lips. “I was always there for you, aren’t I?” Rintaro nodded, his lips pursing because your words had rang true. Even in his worst, darkest moments, you hadn’t ran away. You still went back to his arms, no matter how angry you’d been, because it had always been him without question. You just hoped that he would choose you, too. “So…” you smiled in hopes to lighten up the mood, “Are you cooking tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll take care of dinner,” he gestured to the grocery bags, “You go and change.”
You stepped into the bedroom, the familiar creak of the door a reminder of how much your life had changed. The room was small, a far cry from the grandeur of the palace, but it was cozy, filled with the little things that had come to mean so much more to you now. You pulled off your sweater and jeans, slipping into something more comfortable –a soft, worn shirt and loose pants. The cabin was warm, the faint crackle of the fireplace in the living room filling the silence as you looked out the window at the snow-covered mountains. It was hard to believe that this was your life now, so far removed from the chaos and danger that had once consumed every waking moment.
The smell of food wafted into the room, drawing you out of your thoughts.
Rin was in the kitchen, moving around with a quiet focus. He wasn’t the best cook, but he was trying, learning how to make simple meals from scratch. There was something endearing about the way he concentrated on getting things just right, even if it didn’t always turn out perfect. Tonight, though, the food smelled good – comforting, familiar, like home. You walked back into the living room, where Rin had set two plates on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. He glanced up at you as you entered, his expression softening as he took you in.
It was these moments that made everything worth it, the quiet, unspoken understanding between the two of you as you navigated this new life together.
Smiling, you sat down beside him on the sofa, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as you both began to eat. The food was simple –some kind of stew with bread on the side – but it was good, better than you’d expected. The radio played softly in the background, the crackling voice of the announcer delivering the latest international news. You listened as you ate, the names and events pulling you back to the world you’d left behind.
The news from Inarizaki was a mix of the familiar and the unexpected.
First Prince Ushijima Wakatoshi had been appointed and crowned as King – a solid, dependable choice, just as you’d always known he would be. Third Prince Kita Shinsuke had renounced his title and become a lawmaker, a decision that surprised you, though you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him finally finding his own path. The news of his engagement to Airi Yamamoto, a former maid of the palace, was even more surprising, but it made sense in a way. Kita had always been grounded, and maybe that was what he needed now. Besides, him and Airi finding love and coming out triumphant despite all the struggles… they really were a testament that sometimes, love could prevail all.
The next segment of the news, however, had your husband stiffening beside you.
Former Princess Iris Amari had been imprisoned, facing a lifetime behind bars, along with the former Queen Suna. It was hard to feel anything for them now – anger, sadness, pity – it all felt so distant, like a story you’d once heard but no longer cared to remember. Prince Tooru and Princess Maiko were expecting their first child, a new life that would carry the legacy of the royal family forward. The youngest prince, Tobio, had been chosen to represent Inarizaki in the Olympics for the Men’s Volleyball division – a bright future ahead of him, far away from the shadows of the palace.
The mention of Tobio's name made your heart ache. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him standing tall on that global stage, doing what he loved most.
But as the pride swelled in your chest, it was accompanied by a deep, gnawing sadness. Tobio had always felt like a younger brother to you, the one person in the palace who had looked up to you without judgment, who had never asked for more than your time and affection. You missed him – the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about volleyball, the bond you shared.
Leaving him behind was one of the hardest things you had to do. You wished you could have explained things to him, reassured him that your departure wasn’t abandonment. But you’d left so abruptly, without a word, and now you feared that he might think you’d chosen to disappear without a care for him. The thought of him being upset, of him feeling betrayed by your absence, weighed heavily on you.
You hoped that one day, he’d understand. That he’d see why you had to leave and that it wasn’t because you didn’t love him. You wished more than anything that you could reach out to him, but for now, all you could do was hope – hope that he was happy, that he wasn’t burdened by your absence, and that he knew, somehow, that you were still watching over him from afar, still caring for him like the older sister you’d always been.
And then there was Prince Kiyoomi.
The name hit you like a punch to the gut, even though you’d been expecting it. Recently annulled, he had chosen to return to his home country, Itachiyama, taking an official break from his royal duties. The words felt heavy, final, like a door closing that you hadn’t quite been ready to walk away from. But it was done, and there was no going back.
You tried to picture him in Itachiyama, back in that quiet, secluded farmhouse nestled among the rolling hills. The place he had always spoken of with such fondness, a sanctuary far removed from the demands of royal life. You wondered if he was happier there now, free from the suffocating expectations and endless scrutiny that had plagued his days in the palace.
Was he finding peace in the simplicity of farm life, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of his childhood? Or did the walls of that old farmhouse remind him of the time you were together, of the dreams you had once shared, and the future you had both believed in? The life you could’ve had together?
The thought of him there, alone, made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected. You could almost see him – sitting on the porch, the wind tousling his dark hair as he gazed out over the fields, lost in thought. Did he think of you in those quiet moments, or had he pushed you from his mind, determined to move on, just as you were trying to do?
You wanted to believe that he was content, that he had found some semblance of happiness in his old life. But the part of you that still loved him, that still felt the sting of losing him, couldn’t help but wonder if he was as heartbroken as you were.
Every time you heard his name, it was like reopening an old wound, the pain as fresh and raw as the day you had walked away. You had chosen this path, and you knew it was the right one for you and Rintaro. But that didn’t make the loss any less real, or the memories any less painful. The farmhouse in Itachiyama loomed large in your mind, a symbol of everything you had given up, and everything you could never get back. And in the quiet of your new life, far away from the palace and its ghosts, you couldn’t help but wonder if he, too, was haunted by the same memories, and if he, too, wished that things could have been different.
But what if it had been different? What if the police never went after Rintaro? What if… your husband simply left the Palace, knowing it was never a place to call his, and you’d proceeded with the annulment under the grounds that it was never a valid royal marriage?
The government would’ve let you go. No one would question your decisions, especially not after it’d been revealed to the world how Rintaro loved Iris first. And they’d been so close, too, to getting what they wanted. So close to living the life you believed to be yours, so close to having the family you dreamt of building with him. A life you’d long let go of, just as you’d decided to choose Kiyoomi when Rintaro no longer wanted you.
And yet, you were here, on the other side of the world and more than a thousand miles away from the quiet Prince who’d silently stole your heart with his actions more than his words. Here you were, anywhere but where he was.
If it had been different…
You took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts away as you leaned a little closer to Rin, letting your shoulder rest against his. He was here, with you, and that was what mattered now. The world outside could change and shift, but this – this quiet, simple life with him – was yours to keep. It wasn’t the life you dreamt of having. It would never be the life you would’ve chose to live had you had any other choice, but it was yours now. It was all you had. It was the only path you could’ve chosen, because you knew one thing to be true: the farther you were from Kiyoomi, the safer he would be.
As you finished your meal, you set your plate aside and turned the radio off, letting the silence settle around you both. Rin reached out, his hand finding yours, and you laced your fingers together, feeling the steady, reassuring warmth of his grip. It was a small thing, but it meant everything in between – I’m sorry, his touch seemed to say, as if he knew he’d stolen away your future. It’s okay, you squeezed back, putting on your softest smile as you ignored the desperate singing of another’s name from your heart.
After dinner, the two of you moved in quiet harmony, cleaning up the remnants of the meal and tidying the small kitchen.
The routine had become familiar, though not yet second nature. It was strange how quickly you had adapted to this new life – this simple, quiet existence where the luxuries of your past were nothing but distant memories. With the dishes done and the fire in the hearth dying down, you and Rintaro made your way to bed, the weight of the day settling heavily on your weary shoulders.
Usually, it was you who fell asleep first, the exhaustion of chores you were still learning how to do pulling you into an early slumber. But tonight, sleep didn’t seem to want to knock on your door. As you lay on your side of the bed, you noticed Rintaro’s breathing had already evened out, his body finally succumbing to the fatigue that had clung to him since morning. You watched him for a moment, his face softened by sleep, and you felt a pang of tenderness, mixed with something deeper – guilt, perhaps, or the remnants of a love that had once been your whole world.
Your thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Kiyoomi.
It was a mistake to let your mind wander there, but tonight you couldn’t help it. The realization came suddenly, hitting you with a quiet, painful intensity – you didn’t even have a picture of him. No physical reminders of the man who had once been your everything. You tried to recall his face, the sharpness of his features, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at you, but the image was already starting to blur. Time would do that, you knew. It would erode the edges of your memories until he was nothing more than a distant shadow in your mind. You would forget what he looked like, the sound of his voice, the way his touch had made you feel safe, loved. You could search for him, you supposed. His name would be easy enough to find, even without a phone, but you knew that would only make things harder. Seeing his face now, seeing him move on without you – it would be a fresh wound, one you weren’t ready to bear. And there was this dark voice at the back of your head warning you that you might grow weak, that you might succumb to your longing and run back to his arms if you caught a glimpse of his face.
So you couldn’t. You had to push him away, because you couldn’t push Rintaro out of your life.
The bed felt colder tonight, lonelier, even with Rintaro beside you. The space between you both seemed to stretch impossibly wide, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You longed for Kiyoomi in a way that was almost physical, a deep ache in your chest that you couldn’t soothe. But you were here now, with Rintaro, and this was your life. This was the choice you had made. A choice you couldn’t begin to regret now.
Just as you began to drift into a restless sleep, you heard it – a low, anguished moan coming from Rintaro. You turned to him, finding him caught in the throes of a nightmare, his body tense, his face twisted in fear and pain. He whimpered, and your heart clenched at the sound. Without thinking, you reached out to wake him, your hand gentle on his arm. But before you could, he jolted awake, eyes wide and frantic, searching the darkness as if expecting to find your side of the bed empty.
“Hey,” you whispered softly, your voice calm despite the storm inside you. “You’re okay, Rin. It was just a nightmare.”
He turned to you, his expression a mix of disbelief and relief. “You didn’t leave,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
You shook your head, reaching out to touch his face, to ground him in the reality of your presence as you brushed his bangs away from his eyes. He saw you a little better under the light, and he stared hard, scrutinizing your features as if he wondered if you were real.
“No, of course not. I’m right here with you.”
His eyes held yours for a moment, searching for something – reassurance, comfort, perhaps a sign that you truly meant what you said. Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease, though you could still feel the lingering effects of whatever horrors had haunted his dreams. You stayed like that for a while, your hand trailing down his cheek, his gaze locked on yours, until finally, he closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.
You lay back down beside him, but sleep was still far from your grasp. Instead, you stared up at the ceiling, your thoughts spinning in the darkness.
You had chosen to stay, to forget the man you once loved and to build a life with the man beside you. But the memories of Kiyoomi lingered, just as Rintaro’s fears lingered, both of you trapped in a past you couldn’t entirely leave behind. And as the night wore on, you found yourself hoping – praying – that time would work its magic, that the wounds would heal, and that one day, this life would feel like enough. That this life would stop feeling like it was something you would want to run away from.
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The mornings in the mountains were always serene, the world still wrapped in a blanket of soft mist as the sun slowly began its ascent. The forest, with its towering trees and the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze, had become a place of both comfort and anxiety for you. It was here that Rin had started his morning walks, slipping out of bed before dawn to find solace in the quiet solitude of the woods. But each time he left, a knot of worry tightened in your chest, fearing that one day he might not come back.
Today was no different.
You had woken early, as you had been doing for the past few months, to join him on these walks. The crisp morning air was cool against your skin, and the soft crunch of leaves beneath your boots was the only sound that accompanied your footsteps. Rin walked beside you, his hand warm around yours, guiding you through the familiar path.
As the first light of dawn began to filter through the trees, you glanced up at him. His face was calm, but you could see the lingering shadows of sleepless nights in his eyes. He squeezed your hand gently, and then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he leaned in to kiss your cheek, the gesture as natural as breathing.
“I’m not sure I like this morning routine of yours,” you murmured, breaking the silence that had settled between you.
Rin’s lips curved into a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just have trouble sleeping, and taking a walk calms my mind.”
Rin’s nightmares had become a constant presence in your lives, a dark shadow that clung to the quiet of the night. At first, they were sporadic, just an occasional disruption to your sleep. You would wake to find him thrashing beside you, his breaths ragged and shallow as he wrestled with the demons of his past. A soft touch or a whispered word would be enough to calm him, to pull him back from whatever horrors plagued his dreams. But as the months passed, the nightmares grew more frequent, more intense.
There were nights when you would wake to the sound of his strangled cries, his body drenched in sweat, the bed sheets twisted around him as if they were binding him in place. His face, usually so composed, would be contorted in fear or pain, his hands gripping the mattress as though it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. It was in those moments that your heart ached the most, seeing the man you loved tormented by memories he couldn’t escape.
You tried to help him, staying awake late into the night, watching over him like a silent guardian. But the more you observed, the more you realized how deeply the nightmares had taken root. There were times when he would mumble incoherently in his sleep, his words a jumbled mix of regret and sorrow, apologies meant for someone he couldn’t reach. Sometimes, he would wake up with a start, his eyes wide and unseeing, as if still trapped in the nightmare’s grip, and it would take him several minutes to recognize where he was, to remember that he was safe.
The worst nights were the ones where he would fall back into sleep only to be dragged into another nightmare almost immediately. You would feel him trembling beside you, his breath hitching as the terror took hold again. On those nights, the darkness seemed endless, stretching on forever with no relief in sight. You could do nothing but hold him, your own heart pounding in fear for him, wishing you could take away his pain.
It wasn’t just the nights that were affected. The lack of restful sleep began to take its toll on Rin during the day. He moved through your quiet life in the mountains with a heaviness that hadn’t been there before, his shoulders constantly slumped, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. The spark that had once lit up his gaze when he looked at you was dimmed, replaced by a haunted expression that he couldn’t quite shake.
You worried for him constantly, the anxiety gnawing at you with each passing day.
The isolation of your new life, which had once felt like a blessing, now felt like a curse. There was no one here to help him, no one who could offer him the support he so desperately needed. It was just the two of you, alone in the mountains, and you felt helpless in the face of his suffering.
Rin tried to hide it, of course. He would force a smile when you looked at him too long, crack a joke to ease the tension, or brush off your concern with a wave of his hand. But you could see through the façade, see how the nightmares had begun to wear him down, chipping away at his spirit bit by bit.
As the year wore on, the nightmares became a fixture of your life, an inescapable reality that you both had to endure. And with each one, your fear grew.
You feared for Rin, for the toll this was taking on him, and you feared for the future, wondering how much longer he could withstand this torment before it broke him completely. You feared that the man you loved might one day be consumed by the darkness that haunted his dreams, and that no matter how tightly you held on to him, it wouldn’t be enough to pull him back.
You knew what that meant. The nightmares still haunted him, though he rarely spoke of them. You stopped walking for a moment, turning to face him fully. “Is it the nightmares?” you asked softly, your voice filled with concern. “Next time, you should wake me up so I can be there for you.”
He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at you. “I don’t know… You need to get all the rest you need.”
“Rin,” you said, your tone gentle but firm. “We’re not really doing anything here that takes up too much of my time. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten all the rest that I need.”
He let out a soft sigh, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Fine,” he relented, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice.
“You really should’ve woken me up sooner,” you continued, your tone lightening as you tried to ease the tension. “I would’ve loved watching every sunrise with you.”
He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a pause, a beat of silence where you could almost feel the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. And then, as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer, he asked, “Do you… do you still think about him?”
You knew immediately who he meant. The name lingered between you, unspoken but understood. “Kiyoomi.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Do you miss him?”
Your breath caught in your throat for a moment, the familiar ache of longing tugging at your heart. “I do… A lot,” you admitted, your voice soft and tinged with sadness. “But it doesn’t change a thing for me. I’d still keep on choosing to be here with you.”
He looked at you, his gaze searching, as if trying to find the truth in your words. “You really don’t regret it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You shook your head, a small, reassuring smile playing on your lips. “No. I think this is the quietest my life’s ever been, and I never thought that was possible.”
“I don’t know,” Rin said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he tried to lighten the mood. “Your life used to be pretty dull before you met me.”
You chuckled softly, the sound carrying on the cool morning air. “That’s true. My life took an unexpected turn when you came into my world.”
His smile faltered slightly, the guilt he carried still evident in his eyes. “I know it’s not going to change anything, but I’m really sorry for everything I did to you.”
You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “I know you are,” you said softly. “I won’t ever forget it, you know. The pain that you put me through. But I won’t hold it against you forever, either – we both need to move on. And the past year of being here with you… you’ve been greater to me than you ever were.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, as if trying to absorb the comfort you offered. “I’m trying to make up for it.”
“I don’t regret it,” you repeated, your voice steady and full of conviction. “I don’t regret you.”
His eyes opened, meeting yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “I know,” he said quietly. “I hope you never do.”
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You and Rin had carved out a life here in the mountains, hidden away from the world, surviving on the money you had brought with you. It wasn’t much, and you knew it wouldn’t last forever, but for now, it was enough. Finding jobs was out of the question – exposure would be too dangerous, a risk neither of you could afford to take. So, you made do with what you had, stretching every resource as far as it could go.
Despite the limitations, you found a happiness that you hadn’t known was possible. The tension and fear that had defined so much of your past were gone, replaced by a warmth that grew between you and Rin.
You fell into a routine that was both simple yet deeply fulfilling – so domestic that you sometimes were struck in awe that it was possible for you and him to never argue. You cooked meals with what ingredients you had, experimenting with recipes and flavors that were new to you. Rin would clean up after, meticulously washing the dishes and wiping down the counters, always taking care to leave the kitchen spotless. It was a dance you both moved through effortlessly, a silent understanding that had formed over time on who took over which chores.
In this secluded life, you and Rin had grown more affectionate, the distance that once existed between you slowly dissolving.
It was as if you had been transported back in time to the days when he was still courting you, the days when every touch, every glance, had been filled with the thrill of new love. Now, there were stolen kisses in the middle of the day, hands that found each other in the quiet moments, and long nights spent tangled together under the blankets. It was a closeness that you had never imagined you would have with him, a warmth that made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t for years.
One chilly afternoon, you found yourself watching Rin as he chopped wood outside the cabin, preparing to build a fire to keep you both warm. He was focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he swung the axe with surprising precision. You couldn’t help but smile, leaning against the doorframe as you admired the scene. It was so different from the life you had known, and yet it felt right, like this was how things were always meant to be. Just as you were about to call out to him, your mind played a trick on you. Instead of Rintaro swinging the axe back, you suddenly pictured Kiyoomi – drenched with sweat, his shirt sticking to him as he effortlessly chopped wood. It would’ve been something he did normally back at the farmhouse.
You immediately blinked the image away.
Kiyoomi wasn’t here. You had your husband instead, dressed in a brown shirt instead of a white one like Kiyoomi always wore. Rintaro’s hair was longer now, too, long enough that he could tie the ends of it in a tiny ponytail – something he’d asked you to teach him once.
“Since when have you learned to chop wood?” you teased, the playful tone in your voice breaking the quiet.
Rin paused, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He turned to you with a grin, the familiar spark of mischief in his eyes. “YouTube teaches you a lot,” he replied, his voice light. “Look up my search history. Surviving the Wilderness: Part One.”
You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Building a fire. Huh. I never would’ve imagined.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, as he resumed chopping the wood. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But I’m figuring it out. Just like we’re figuring everything else out. Besides, it’s almost winter, and I don’t want us to freeze our asses off.”
You watched him for a moment longer, feeling a swell of affection as you took in the sight of him – strong, determined, doing whatever it took to keep you both safe and comfortable. The Rin you knew had always been capable, but this was different. He was adapting, learning new skills, and embracing this life with a resolve that made you love him even more.
It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the stillness of the mountains, that you realized just how much you had both grown. The struggles you faced were real, and there were days when the challenges felt overwhelming. But you faced them together, and that made all the difference. This life was far from perfect, but it was yours, and as long as you had Rin by your side, you knew you could face anything. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the chill in the air, but it was a welcome kind of cold, one that reminded you of the warmth waiting inside. Watching Rin work, you felt a deep sense of contentment, a peace that had once seemed impossible. You were no longer the princess of Inarizaki, burdened by duty and expectations. Here, in this quiet corner of the world, you were simply a woman in love, sharing a life with the man who had become your everything.
You just had to stop thinking about the Prince you’d left behind, and everything would’ve been perfect.
After storing the chopped wood neatly beside the cabin, Rin finally built the fire, the crackling warmth spreading through the small living space. The cabin had become your sanctuary, a place where the outside world couldn’t reach you. As the fire roared to life, you prepared dinner, the aroma of simmering vegetables and spices filling the room. Rin watched you for a moment, his gaze soft and affectionate, before excusing himself for his daily walk.
You still accompanied him on his morning walks, but you had noticed that sometimes, he needed those walks alone. You didn’t question it, understanding that he needed time to process everything, to find peace in his own way. So, when he left, you focused on finishing the meal, knowing he would return soon.
When Rin came back, there was a change in him. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t look like he had been battling his demons. Instead, he seemed lighter, almost happy, with a hint of excitement in his eyes. You looked up from the table as he entered, curiosity piqued by the newfound energy in his step.
“Let’s go somewhere after dinner,” he said, his voice carrying an eagerness that made you smile.
You raised an eyebrow, playfully skeptical. “We can’t go to town so soon.”
He shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’re not going to town.”
“Then where?”
“Just trust me. You’ll love it.”
Intrigued, you agreed, and after a quick meal, Rin led you out of the cabin, guiding you through the forest paths that had become so familiar. The path to the lake was one you’d walked countless times before, the familiar crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot, the cool breeze winding through the trees, and the gentle rustling of branches overhead. You knew every rock, every bend in the trail, so when Rin had suggested taking you somewhere new, you'd been skeptical. What else could there possibly be to see?
But now, as you trailed behind him, your hand held securely in his, you couldn’t help but marvel at the way he moved with purpose, as if he were leading you somewhere magical. His broad back seemed to block the rest of the world from view, the strength in his stride grounding you, keeping you tethered right at his side. You couldn’t help the warmth blooming through your chest. A hundred times, you’d held his hand. A hundred times, you’d breathed in his scent – the smell of the soap you both shared, the scent of the cheap laundry detergent, and the hint of pine from the trees whenever he spent the day outside. A hundred times you’d had him, and still, you were caught taken aback during times like these.
He was mine now. A sentiment you had always held within your close, so confidently and so true. He was yours as you were his, even before he’d placed rings on your fingers. But this time? It felt real. Here, in the middle of nowhere where the titles are gone and your names were different on the rare times people would ask, you’d never felt more like yourself. More like his wife. Unconsciously, you squeezed his hand tighter as you let him lead you deeper into the forest.
Because you knew you would’ve followed him wherever he went.
The trees began to thin as you entered a clearing, and that’s when you saw it – a lake, nestled quietly in the heart of the woods, its surface shimmering beneath the glow of the moon. It stretched out before you, the dark water rippling gently with the breeze, reflecting the sky in a way that made the stars seem to dance on the surface.
The moonlight kissed the edges of the lake, casting an ephemeral glow that made the scene look almost unreal. The trees encircling the water stood tall and proud, their shadows dancing across the surface, adding a touch of mystery to the place. It felt secluded, hidden from the rest of the world, a secret just for the two of you. You stood there for a moment, taking it all in. The cold, biting air nipped at your skin, but the beauty of the scene made you forget the chill. Rin stood beside you now, his hand still entwined with yours.
“Oh, Rin,” you breathed, taking in the serene beauty before you. “It’s so beautiful here.”
His smile widened, pleased by your reaction. “Come on. Let’s take a dip.”
You hesitated, the chill in the air making you shiver slightly. “Isn’t it too cold for you?”
He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his warmth. “I have you to warm me up.”
The moment you both dipped into the water, a sharp chill shot through your body, making you shiver and gasp at the coldness of it. Rin winced too, his shoulders tense as he adjusted to the sudden temperature. But neither of you retreated. Instead, you splashed water at him, laughing as he sputtered in surprise. He retaliated by sending a wave of water your way, both of you caught up in a playful exchange that echoed through the trees.
“Oh, you want to play like that, huh?” he spat out water, his eyes narrowed in a threat. A squeal erupted out of you when you saw him begin to flick water your direction.
The moonlight reflected off the surface of the lake, glistening as your laughter filled the night. You moved closer to Rin, clinging to him as he waded deeper, your body shaking with giggles and shivers alike. His arms were solid, reassuring as they held you steady in the water. Instinctively, you flattened your feet against his sides, hoping to steal some of his warmth, earning a quiet grumble from him. But even as he complained, you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile.
You stayed like that, the two of you laughing so hard your sides ached, your cheeks flushed from the cold and the pure joy of the moment. It felt as though time had stopped, and the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you, weightless and free in the water. In that instant, nothing else mattered. It was perfect in its simplicity, a memory you could hold onto forever.
As you swam closer to him, the water rippling gently between you, there was a shift in the air.
Something heavy, almost tangible, lingered between you and Rin – an unspoken tension that made the world around you slow. You locked eyes with him, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His gaze, dark and contemplative, held yours, the weight of it sending a different kind of shiver through your body, one that had nothing to do with the cold water. The playful splashing and laughter from earlier faded into the background, leaving only the quiet sounds of the lake and the soft rustling of the trees around you.
There was a hesitation. You’d kissed Rin before – many times. It had always felt effortless, natural, like something you did without thinking, a reflex born of the years you’d spent together. But this time, the air between you was charged with something deeper, something more complicated. Both of you stood still, suspended in that delicate moment where time felt like it might fracture under the weight of what you were too afraid to say aloud.
The past lingered in the space between your bodies, reminding you of the others who had once filled your hearts. The love that still tugged at you when you thought of those times, those people. It wasn’t something either of you could escape. You had both longed for someone else, had lives once built on dreams you thought would come true with others. Yet here you were, drawn back to one another, the years of distance and heartache only sharpening the realization that what remained between you was real.
Rin made the first move, his hand hesitantly reaching out to you under the water. When his fingers curled gently around yours, it felt like a quiet promise, a reassurance. Slowly, carefully, he pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no rush, no urgency. Just the steady, unspoken acknowledgment that this was different. It had always been different.
As his face neared yours, you could feel your heart pounding, not with the excitement of something new, but with the quiet realization of something you had known all along. Rin leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly, as though he were testing the waters of a deeper truth. The kiss wasn’t fiery or overwhelming. There were no butterflies, no fireworks exploding behind your eyes. Instead, it was gentle, tender—like the first sip of warm tea on a cold night. His lips were familiar, comforting, and the way they moved against yours felt like coming home after a long, exhausting journey.
You breathed him in, his scent mingling with the damp earth and crisp air around you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, not out of desire but out of need—an unspoken need for the stability and love he had always offered. The world around you seemed to blur, fading into the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing and the gentle splash of water as you floated together in that quiet, peaceful moment.
There was a sweetness to the kiss, but it carried with it the weight of the past—the knowledge of all you had endured to reach this point. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that sent your heart racing; it was the kind that settled deep into your bones, reminding you of everything you had been through together, of all the things that couldn’t be undone. It was as if, in that one moment, the years of distance, pain, and longing were washed away, leaving only the simplicity of what had always been between you.
Rin held you close, his touch soft yet secure, and for the first time in a long while, you felt utterly safe. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his lips moved with a quiet reverence, made you feel like you belonged. Not to the world, or to the kingdom you’d left behind, but to him. To this moment.
There was no rush. No desperation. Only the slow, steady realization that the love you had for each other had never left. It had simply been buried beneath the weight of all the things you thought you needed to be, all the expectations and dreams that hadn’t worked out. And now, standing here with him, feeling the solidity of his presence, you knew that this was what you had been looking for all along.
The kiss ended softly, naturally, like the final notes of a lullaby, and when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, eyes closed, soaking in the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t about passion, or excitement, or even romance. It was about finding peace in each other’s presence, knowing that no matter where life took you, this moment, this love, was the only constant.
You didn’t need the world. You didn’t need anything beyond what you had right there with him. The ache in your heart for what was lost still lingered, but it no longer hurt. It was just… there, like a distant memory. Something that had shaped you, but no longer defined you.
 “I really don’t deserve you,” Rin whispered, his voice thick with emotion, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the peaceful night.
You pressed a finger to his lips, silencing his doubt. “Shhh. Nothing could hurt us now.”
He held you tighter, his face buried in your neck, and for a moment, you both just breathed, letting the quiet reassurance of your love settle between you. The weight of the past year, the fear, the guilt—it all seemed to fade in the embrace of the night, leaving only the two of you, together, stronger than ever.
For the first time in a long time, you felt truly safe. The world might have changed, your titles and riches might have been left behind, but here, with Rin, you had found something far more valuable – the promise of a marriage you’d always longed for.
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Rin loved this life with you, however undeserving he thought he was.
He got to wake up next to you every morning, shared every meal with you, and could kiss and touch you whenever he liked. It wasn’t always this easy, though, he’d admit. You hadn’t always been so… giving. He knew this, because he was always watching, always looking at you whenever you thought he wouldn’t notice. And he wasn’t stupid. He’d known you for many years, had spent most of that time analyzing the slightest twitch of your brows, down to the most miniscule curl of your lip to try and decode what those gestures meant. He knew, without a doubt, you still thought of him. He also knew, undoubtedly, and with pure conviction, that you loved him still.
Just not the way you used to.
He’d long given up on that – the possibility that things would go back to the way it was. Rintaro had thrown out that absurd idea out the window. The hurt would always remain, and the lies he’d spilled would be etched bone-deep until the day he reached his grave. You wouldn’t ever forgive him, but this… having you in his home, having you in his arms, being allowed the freedom to still speak your name with that softness he’d never had with anyone before, it was enough. It would be enough, for now. He just had to pretend he couldn’t see you – the way you would tuck your cheek onto your shoulder, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you shut your eyes, each time his arm would wrap your waist before a slight, barely noticeable grimace would settle onto your features. You always acted on instinct, to always turn away and flinch each time he got near.
You thought he’d never notice. The way your eyes turn downcast, or the way your hands go still around the cheap cereal bowl you’d gotten at a fleece market each time something reminded you of the Prince you’d left behind. Each time his name was mentioned in the radio, you would freeze, your gaze travelling off the distance even though there was nothing to see but trees beyond the windows.
You thought Rintaro wouldn’t see all those things.
Nearly two years later, Rintaro could barely recognize you.
Gone was the woman he’d laid his eyes on at Tobio’s ball, the one bedazzled with the jewelry even the former Queen couldn’t have. Gone was the woman who was pampered and beloved by all. There was just you, and the faint traces of it. You’d lost weight – not enough to worry him, but enough to remind him of the comfortable and secure life he’d robbed you of, regardless if it had been your choice, too. And during the early hours of the day when sleep wouldn’t come to him, you always cried. Always. Sometimes, you cried out for your mother. But more often than not, you would always whisper his name, the sound so broken and desperate that it almost sounded like a plea. You would clutch the thin sheet (a poor excuse of a blanket, really) up to your chest, and keep crying in your sleep. The next day when you woke, Rintaro is sitting shock-still beside you on your bed, and you wonder why he couldn’t sleep at all.
You loved him. Rintaro knew that – you wouldn’t have risked it all and came with him if there wasn’t a tiny part in your heart that held him still. But he also knew you loved Kiyoomi and missed him dearly, so much so that Rintaro often has to fight the urge to call his brother and have him take you away.
Some days, he pondered on just that.
How easy it would be to buy a phone on the rare times he went downtown, call Kiyoomi, and ask him to finally come get you. He wouldn’t know what the consequences of that would be. For all he knew, he could be putting you in more danger by exposing you to the eyes of the Kingdom. He knew, however, that you might not hate the idea so much – that you might even thank him for taking on the burden of making the decision for you. Rintaro wasn’t foolish enough to not recognize that you had this pleading look in your eyes sometimes, one that begged at him to become the bad guy again, to give you a reason to run away. Maybe you wouldn’t be so inclined to stay with him anymore if he’d just let his true colors to be revealed.
Try as he might, Rintaro couldn’t find it in himself to give you anymore reasons to hate him. If anything, it was the opposite. It took him nearly a year to realize your heart was too big, too pure. No matter how much he kept his distance, telling himself that being together didn’t have to mean being together, he would always be drawn to you – and you would always coax him out of the protective walls he’d set up around his heart.
You were always there, and he hated it. He hated how you never gave him even the smallest moment to stop loving you. It could’ve been easier for him that way. Instead, you were the first thing he laid his eyes on when he woke, his name the first thing you would utter in that sleepy, raspy voice of yours as you smiled up at him with the first stretch of sunlight. How could he do it, then? How could he fall out of love with you when he’d lost everything except you? That thought itself sometimes had him wondering, too, if you loved him out of loyalty, or if you loved him because like him, you simply had nothing and no one else.
But that wouldn’t be entirely true, could it? You had your parents. You had Kiyoomi. You had some of the Princes wrapped around your finger – one who loved you like a sister, one who had a former adoration for you, and one with an unwavering loyalty in his support.
You could still have a second chance in life.
Rintaro didn’t have that anymore.
It was that realization in mind that gave him the courage to start lying to you again. Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro had been visiting the town more often. It started off as just once a week, familiarizing himself with the shops and hidden passages he could easily sneak off to. Then he began visiting more often, twice a week to finally buy a phone and contact his not-so brother. 
Shinsuke, no longer Prince Kita, was now a lawmaker. From the few and far occurrences where he’d been in touch with the older man, he’d understood why Shinsuke made that decision. He’d had enough of the darkness and corruption of the monarchy – couldn’t see himself holding onto the respectable title of Prince now that he’d learned of everything the former Queen, and some of his brothers, did. Drowning in shame and anger at the Palace he’d once called home, he renounced his title and set out to make things better. With his goals aligned with Wakatoshi, who had now been crowned King, Inarizaki was recovering – little by little.
And they’d talked about you.
Wakatoshi wasn’t entirely pleased after finding out that you and Rintaro had upped and left. It didn’t change the fact you were both still criminals in the eyes of the Kingdom, but it was a Kingdom that was his. And as stoic as he may be, Wakatoshi wasn’t unforgiving. It took a few more months of convincing before he finally agreed to give you another chance – you. Not him. Regardless of whether Rintaro had never willingly played the part of the Queen’s pawn to secure her title, Wakatoshi and Shinsuke both couldn’t find any post for Rintaro within the Royal Family where he could return. But you did – you could return, and be forgiven. You could have a second chance in life.
Rintaro had never wanted to lie to you again, but he couldn’t stop it. For many nights, and many more months to come, he was only plagued by one thought as he counted his last day: the urge to finally give you the life you deserved.
Someday, he promised, I’ll make it all right for you.
Rintaro woke up before dawn, the faint light just beginning to creep through the curtains. You were still asleep beside him, your breath slow and steady, your face soft with peace that was rare in the waking world. For a moment, he let himself lie there, watching you, memorizing every detail – how your hair fanned out on the pillow, the curve of your lips, the way you unconsciously curled toward him.
He was living the dream. Every morning, he woke up next to you, and he could kiss you whenever he wanted. It was everything he’d ever hoped for when you first chose him, when you left everything behind to build this life together. But deep down, he knew it couldn’t last. This life, as peaceful as it seemed, was fragile. The simplicity, the isolation –  it was wearing on you.  He could see it in the way you hesitated at the store, holding back from buying the things you liked. He noticed how you’d glance at the few items in the cart and sigh quietly, as if you were measuring out not just money, but a piece of yourself each time. You were budgeting your life now, in a way that went far beyond groceries.
It wasn’t just about the material things either. You weren’t able to talk to people like you used to, to be yourself.
You were hiding. From the world, from your past, from the person you once were. You’d severed almost every connection to the ones you loved – Tobio, Kiyoomi, your family –all because you couldn’t risk being found. He’d never forget that time your mother’s birthday came around, and you excused yourself during dinner, hiding in the bathroom where you muffled your cries upon missing them. And staying here, with him, meant you’d have to keep living this way, in the shadows.
He couldn’t let it go on.
Rintaro closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He didn’t deserve you, he never had. And now, he was starting to see that staying with him might be ruining your life. You deserved more than this half-existence. More than the fear of being discovered, more than rationing out pieces of yourself just to survive. He wanted to keep you with him forever, but he knew deep down that this was too good to be true. One day, something would break – either the life you’d built together or your spirit. And he couldn’t bear to see you trapped any longer.
As you stirred beside him, your eyes fluttering open, he forced a smile, brushing your hair gently from your face. But in his heart, he knew what he had to do. He had to let you go. For your sake, even if it meant losing everything he ever wanted.
“Hey,” you breathed out, a small smile on your face. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” he echoed, his voice croaking more than he’d like. He couldn’t help it; he felt like there was a lump in his throat, making it difficult to speak. “I’m…” I’m sorry, he wanted to say, I love you and I’m sorry. The words never left his lips. “I’m going to prepare you breakfast, and then go out to prepare some firewood.”
The lie was easy enough to tell. It was a routine you’d gotten used to – he always woke up first to prepare your meals while you showered, so you could eat right away right after. Rintaro would share his breakfast with you, often dropping a berry or two onto your plate, urging you to eat more. Shortly after, he’d disappear out in the woods to look for firewood, and you would set out to wash the laundry, or whatever it was that you did when he wasn’t around.
You didn’t question him as he left the bed. To you, it would just be any other day. But to him, it might as well be the last time he ever saw you, so he allowed himself to indulge in the sight of you a little longer.
The straps of your nightgown were slipping down one shoulder, one of your hands on top of it as you stretched your muscles. Your eyes were closed, and with the sunlight dripping behind your languid form, Rintaro was almost tempted to stay. To tell Shinsuke he’d changed his mind. To tell your parents that he was sorry, yet again, because he wanted to stay with you a little longer.
Rintaro closed the bedroom door shut behind him, willing himself to keep walking away. He couldn’t back out – not now.
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The smell of breakfast cooking puled  you from bed, and you quietly made your way to the kitchen, drawn in by the warmth of it all – Rintaro at the stove, the soft sizzle of food frying. He stood there, stirring something in the pan, but his mind seemed far away. You paused at the doorway, watching him. His broad shoulders, the gentle concentration etched on his face.
A smile tugged at your lips as you walked over, lightly bumping his arm. “Hey,” you teased. “You’re spacing out again.”
He’d been doing that more often. Just randomly staring out into space, and it’d take you more than three times to call out his name before he snapped out of it. It was slightly hilarious, you thought. How he went from being this effortless charmer to this almost shy, reserved man you called your husband. It was as if… the loss of his titles, and the identity he’d known, had given way to the appearance of this not-so new person. Someone quieter, someone gentler, someone more tender. You couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Nevertheless, it was slightly alarming at first. How someone could change so much – but you weren’t a stranger to that, were you? You’d seen Rintaro in his best and worst, and somehow, learned to love him in both.
He blinked, startled, then turns to you with a soft smile, shaking his head as if to clear the thoughts that had taken him away. “It’s nothing,” he said, but his gaze lingers on you, warm and tender. And then, without warning, he added, “You’re beautiful.”
The words hit you harder than expected. You hadn’t felt beautiful in a long time – not with the way things had been. The stress, the hiding, the weight of everything hanging over your head. But the way he looked at you just then, like you were the one who hung the moon and stars, you couldn’t help but believe he meant it. His eyes were so full of love, so full of something deep and true, warmth spread all over your skin.
You tried to play it off, hiding your smile behind your hand as you lean against the counter beside him. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled with a shy laugh, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart felt lighter, the way his words made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in so long.
The moment stretched in silence, comfortable and intimate, with the soft clatter of dishes and the gentle aroma of breakfast filling the space between you. You watched as Rintaro moved around the kitchen, steady and familiar, and for a fleeting second, everything feels perfect. Simple, but perfect.
When he finally plated the food, he hands you yours first, and wordlessly drops an extra helping from his own plate onto yours. It was a small gesture, but it made you smile wider. He always did things like that – quietly making sure you were taken care of, in all the little ways that spoke louder than words.
You didn’t argue. Instead, you sat down at the table, your heart full as you glanced at him. In the smallest acts, there was love. And as you sat there, the morning sunlight filtering through the window, the quiet hum of life surrounding you both, you realized just how much he meant to you. How much you loved him, too.
After breakfast, you took the plates to the sink, rolling up your sleeves as the warm water rushes over your hands. The clink of dishes and the soft hum of your thoughts filled the room while Rintaro puts on his jacket, getting ready to head out and gather firewood. He caught your eye before leaving, giving you that small, reassuring smile that always makes your heart twist. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. The weight of everything hangs in the unspoken silence between you both.
Once the door closes behind him, the house felt quieter, emptier. You wiped down the table, the counters, and then swept the floor, keeping yourself busy. There was always something to clean or tidy up, something to organize in this new life you’ve carved out together. It wasn’t much, but it was enough – at least for now.
But as you moved around the small house, thoughts crept in. You sit down at the table again, pulling out what little remains of the money your parents had given you when they sent you both off. The stack was thin, much thinner than it used to be. You counted the bills, the coins, over and over, but no matter how you add it up, it was clear that it wasn’t going to last.
A sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your fingertips against your forehead, trying to push away the rising anxiety. You’d already been careful, budgeting, avoiding any unnecessary purchases, only getting the bare essentials, but the truth was unavoidable. It wasn’t enough. Soon, it will run out, and what then? You would be lying if you said you never considered this life was going to be permanent now. You would be lying again if you also said that the thought of having children didn’t cross your mind, and how could it not? It had been nearly two years since you’d lived here, and Rintaro had been nothing but perfect. You and him were finally living the peaceful married life you’d always dreamt of – where you woke up tangled in each other’s arms, listened to each other’s stories with rapt attention, and loved each other like today was going to be your last. Especially after that one night at the hidden lake, all the feelings you’d buried beneath a mountain of pain and hurt had resurfaced. You began to want him more, began to long for the next time he’d kiss you again, and even if he’d taken you night after night until you woke up late, sore and thoroughly loved, you couldn’t get enough of it. Couldn’t get enough of him.
The fake identities your parents had provided had been your lifeline, a way to survive without being recognized. But it wasn’t enough to keep you both hidden forever. Even with new names and fabricated pasts, the constant paranoia lingered. Getting a job would expose you, especially when neither of you knew the world outside the palace or the kingdom you’d left behind. You had no skills for this life, and the fear of being caught only made it harder to even try.
You glanced around the small space, the modest kitchen, the worn furniture, and the faint scent of breakfast still lingering in the air. It wasn’t the life you were born into, but it was the life you chose. And despite the uncertainty, despite the fear that gnawed at the back of your mind, you wouldn’t trade it. Not for anything.
Still, the weight of it all pressed down. You stood up and move to the window, watching the faint outline of the forest where Rintaro had disappeared. He’d be back soon, arms full of firewood, his face a little flushed from the cold. You could picture it clearly, his warm smile as he set the logs down by the hearth, the small moments of peace you found in each other’s company.
But for now, you were alone with your worries. You folded the bills neatly and tucked them away, pushing the anxiety to the back of your mind. It wouldn’t help to dwell on it – although maybe having a child was out of the question now. Not when you and Rintaro could barely get through.
Unable to help it, your mind drifted back to the beach house he’d bought for you.
And here’s the backyard – plenty of space for our future kids to play in. I’m thinking twins, one boy and one girl, and then we’ll stop trying for another. Two little devils should be enough. The boy needs to be the eldest though, so he can protect his little Princess. You smiled at the memory, reminiscing of a time when you had the world and everything else – before everything fell apart. Gaze trailing from where Rintaro had left, you sighed. You missed him already.
So you waited, listening to the ticking of the clock, the quiet creaks of the house, and the sound of the wind outside, hoping that somehow, everything will be okay. Because despite the uncertainty, despite the fear, you trusted him. And in this quiet moment, that trust is all you have. Everything would work out. It just had to.
When Rintaro finally returned, with an armful of firewood and his boots laden with dirt, you all but rushed out the door and rushed into him. It took him a few seconds before he realized what you were doing, and hastily dropped the wood beneath his feet. A small ‘oomph’ escaped his chest as you ran into his arms, your chest colliding with his. Arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist, you breathed in the scent of him – like sweat, soap, and a hint of pine. He smelled so Rintaro, and entirely all yours.
“Whoa,” he exclaimed, slightly swaying from how you nearly knocked him over.
Heat crept up the back of your neck as it dawned on you what you did, and you grimaced, burying your head deeper into his neck. “Sorry. I just missed you too much.”
“I wasn’t gone for that long.”
“It felt like a long time,” you murmured, pulling back to glance at what he’d gathered. “Did you get enough firewood?”
“I did, yeah,” he nodded, not once letting go of you. His hand ran up and down your spine in soothing motions, much like how he often did to lull you to sleep after a long night of making love. Your body reacted instantaneously at the gesture. Grinding down on him, you bit your lip, too shy to meet his gaze when your husband inhaled sharply. “I-I’ll get started on dinner.”
You tried not to let disappointment get to you when he put you down. “Wait,” you called out to him, and Rintaro stopped, briefly glancing at you over his shoulder. “Your hair’s getting long.”
“Oh,” he touched the tips of his hair, as if only realizing now he’d grown out bangs. “I guess it is.”
“Come here. I’ll give you a haircut.”
His hair had grown out a lot since you’d left everything behind, and while you loved the messy, rugged look on him, you’d been itching to tidy it up. Without waiting for a response, you grabbed a spare sheet, tied it around his neck, and led him to the chair.
He didn’t protest, just sat there quietly as you combed your fingers through his hair. The room fell into a thick silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable – it was heavy, like there was something unsaid between you. The scissors made soft snipping sounds as you worked, trimming away the overgrown locks, and you could feel his gaze on you, though he never said a word. Every so often, your fingers brushed the back of his neck, and you could feel the heat between you both rising.
You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept wandering. There was something about this moment, the quiet intimacy of it. You weren’t just cutting his hair – it was like you were touching something deeper, something that had been building between you for a while now. And it scared you a little.
When you finished, you stepped back, admiring your work. His hair was shorter than you’d intended, but it suited him. He looked different, more mature. His sharp features were more pronounced now, no longer hidden behind the shaggy locks. It made him look… handsome. More than that, he looked like the man you knew he was, someone who had been through so much, and yet, still stood strong. Not quite such a Prince anymore, yet he couldn’t look more like himself. More like the Rintaro you’d fallen for even without the pretense of titles.
Before you realized it, you had moved closer again, your body almost instinctively finding its way to his lap. You settled there without thinking, knees on either side of him as you stared at his new haircut. Your hands rested lightly on his shoulders, and the proximity made your heart race. You couldn’t help but admire him, running your fingers through the now-short strands. He looked up at you, and for a moment, the tension between you snapped tight. His eyes held yours, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. There was a quiet intensity in the way he looked at you, and for the first time, you truly saw him – no distractions, no walls, just Rintaro.
The way he looked at you made your breath hitch. It wasn’t just admiration – it was need, want, something that had been simmering between you both, unspoken but undeniable. And in that moment, sitting on his lap, your hands in his hair, it was clear you felt it too.
As you sat there, the air between you thick with tension, Rintaro’s hands slowly found their way to your waist, his touch hesitant at first, as if he wasn’t sure if he should. But once his fingers settled there, gripping gently, the hesitation melted away. Your pulse quickened, your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel the familiar warmth spreading through your body. The simplicity of his touch made it all the more intense.
Neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of longing and vulnerability. You had been so close to him for so long – sharing the same space, the same struggles, the same quiet moments—but this was different. It felt like you were both finally acknowledging what had always been there, hidden beneath the surface.
Rintaro’s eyes searched yours, and for a second, he looked like he might say something, but instead, he just exhaled softly, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. You weren’t sure if it was the way his breath hitched or the intensity of the moment, but you found yourself leaning down, your foreheads almost touching, the space between you growing impossibly small.
His gaze flickered down to your lips, and that was when you both hesitated again. You had kissed before, many times, but this felt different, weighted with the emotions you had tried to keep at bay. Neither of you could pretend anymore—there was no turning away from the truth. The love, the guilt, the fear, it all hovered between you, heavy and real.
And then, he leaned in, finally bridging the gap. The kiss wasn’t hurried or heated – it was slow, deliberate, like both of you were savoring this moment for what it was. His lips against yours felt comforting, familiar, and yet this time, it felt like more. The gentle press of his mouth, the way he cradled your face afterward, it all spoke of a kind of tenderness that had been growing between you for longer than either of you realized.
There were no fireworks, no sudden rush of heat. Instead, there was something even more powerful – an overwhelming sense of rightness. As his hands moved from your waist to pull you closer, you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours as you clung to him. It was a moment suspended in time, and it felt like home. You breathed him in, your fingers threading through his freshly cut hair, and in that quiet, shared space, you both allowed yourselves to be vulnerable.
The kiss ended, but you didn’t move, your foreheads resting together as you caught your breath. It wasn’t explosive or wild; it was gentle and grounding. In his arms, you felt safe, like no matter what happened outside of this moment, you’d always have this – each other.
And for the first time in a long while, you both let yourselves believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
“I love you,” you blurted out, and Rintaro stiffened beneath your fingers.”
“…What?”
“I said, I love you,” you repeated, feeling like a weight had been lifted off your chest now that you’d said it. Deep down, you always had. The love that you had for him never disappeared – it was always there, lingering, sometimes more of a quiet voice that never spoke. But it was definitely roaring now in your chest, threatening to claw its way out of your chest as you held his gaze. “I know that… it hasn’t been easy, and I hadn’t said it in a long time, but I thought you should know. I love you, Rin. I never stopped loving you.”
Your husband shuddered beneath you, looking equally tortured and relieved. “But you can’t,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I haven’t been good to you. I never was from the start. I lied, and I cheated, and I hurt you again and again. I’m not someone who deserves your love.”
“I know,” you admitted, and something unreadable crossed in his face. “But I can’t help it, can I?” You were crying now, feeling the tears slip down your cheek before you could stop it.
“I don’t want you to regret it.”
You closed your eyes, grazing your lips to his. “That’s my decision to make.”
As you sat on his lap, your heart raced in your chest, the quiet tension between you shifting into something heavier, something desperate. His hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging in just a little more firmly than before, and you felt the heat of his body beneath yours. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thickening with unspoken need.
You weren’t sure who moved first – maybe it was him, maybe it was you – but the next kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow or tender. It crashed over you like a wave, urgent and raw, as if neither of you could wait another second. His lips claimed yours with a fervor that startled you, and you responded in kind, matching his intensity as your hands moved to grip his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt.
The softness from before was gone, replaced with something almost wild. Your breath mingled in short, sharp gasps as his mouth moved against yours, hungry and demanding. It wasn’t angry, not really, but it felt like a release – of every emotion you’d been holding back, every moment of doubt, fear, and longing. His kiss was hard, almost bruising, but you welcomed it, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to drown in him.
Your hands slid from his shoulders to the back of his neck, pulling him in as if you were afraid he might slip away. His hands roamed your back, pulling you flush against him, his touch rougher than usual, like he couldn’t get close enough, like it wasn’t enough to just hold you.
The heat between you flared, your bodies pressed together as if you could fuse into one, and the kiss deepened, growing more intense with every second. It felt like you were pouring everything you had into it – every fear, every hope, every piece of yourself that you had tried to keep hidden. His lips moved with an urgency that made your head spin, and you met him with the same frantic energy, kissing him harder, deeper, until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. The world outside faded into nothing, your mind consumed by the feel of his mouth on yours, the way his hands gripped you like he couldn’t bear to let go.
How you stumbled back to the bedroom was beyond you. The next thing you knew, you were being dropped onto the softness of your bad, Rintaro’s larger frame hovering over you. Your clothes abandoned on a pile next to his. Every worshipping touch on your body wasn’t sweet or careful. It was overwhelming, chaotic, and messy, filled with all the things you’d both tried to hold back. But it was real, and in that moment, you both gave in to it, to each other, with everything you had.
When you’d both crashed with pleasure, your name spoken in garbled moans, it felt like you had just stepped off the edge and found that he was there to catch you. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.
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When you woke up that morning, it was with a sense of warmth and contentment you hadn’t felt in so long. The remnants of the night before lingered in your mind, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. You stretched beneath the covers, feeling the ache of last night in your bones but relishing the memory. You smiled, thinking of Rin, his touch, his kiss – how intimate you had been.
But the bed beside you was empty, and the sheets were cool. He was an early riser, so you didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe he was out on one of his usual morning walks through the woods to clear his head. You sighed, rolling over and pulling the blanket tighter around you for a few more minutes of quiet bliss before getting up.
When you finally rose from bed, the house was eerily still. You called out for him, expecting to hear his familiar voice call back, but there was only silence. It didn’t bother you at first – it wasn’t unusual that he had gone to gather some firewood; maybe he was preparing something outside. You went about your routine, washing up and getting dressed, still feeling a soft smile on your face.
But as the hours ticked by and there was no sign of Rin, a quiet sense of unease began to creep in. You stepped out into the cold, hoping to catch a glimpse of him by the tree line or near the shed. But there was nothing. Not a single footprint in the frost-covered ground, no telltale signs of him chopping wood or setting off on his usual walk.
Your pulse quickened. You hurried back inside, checking the small kitchen where he might have left a note, but there was nothing there either.
The unease sharpened into something colder and more piercing as you wandered into the bedroom and noticed it – his things were gone. His coat, once draped over the chair, and his boots, lined up neatly by the door, had vanished. The small bag he always kept packed with essentials was nowhere to be seen. The room, which had once been a haven of shared moments and passionate kisses, felt hollow, the absence of his presence rendering the space unbearably large and desolate.
A wave of disorientation washed over you, and you instinctively began opening drawers and rifling through closets, desperate to find some sign of his belongings. But each drawer you opened and every closet you searched yielded nothing but emptiness. His clothes, the few personal items that had once filled the room with his essence, were gone. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air, leaving no trace behind.
Panic surged through you, a rising tide of fear and confusion.
Your heart raced as you moved from room to room, your steps growing more frantic with each passing second. You searched under furniture, peered into corners, and even checked the storage spaces, hoping beyond hope that this was all just a terrible misunderstanding. But every corner you turned revealed only more absence, more vacancy, and the knot in your chest tightened painfully with each revelation of what was missing.
In the midst of your growing despair, your eyes caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper resting on the bedside table. Your hands trembled as you reached for it, unfolding it with a mixture of dread and anticipation. The note, penned in his familiar handwriting, offered no immediate comfort, but it was a tangible reminder that, even in his departure, he had left something behind – a final, aching fragment of his presence amid the overwhelming void.
He was gone.
You stood in the middle of the room, heart pounding in your chest as the realization fully sank in. The warmth you had woken up with was gone, replaced by a cold, hollow feeling you couldn’t shake. He’d left, and he hadn’t even said goodbye.
Exhaling through shaky breaths, you read the letter.
to my wife,
I want to begin by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the pain and confusion I put you through. I know that no words can truly convey how much I regret knowing that I’d broken your heart, and continuously trampled on the trust you’d given me time and time again. I will forever be haunted by the memory of the hurt I’ve inflicted upon you, and I will never forgive myself for the sorrow I’ve brought into your life. You never deserved any of that, just as I never deserved the love you so freely gave me.
The past two years living in the cabin with you have been the greatest of my life.
Those moments, those days when it felt as though we were truly a happy husband and wife, those days when it felt as if nothing in the world could touch us ever again, are memories I will cherish for the rest of my life. Sometimes, in those quiet evenings, I allowed myself to dream and dared to hope that this life could be real – that we could live without fear, without pain. It was a fleeting hope, nothing but a silly dream of mine. A beautiful illusion that, even now, makes me yearn for what might have been. What could have been.
But the truth is… I couldn’t bear to see us – to see you – living in this constant state of hiding and looking over our shoulders out of fear. I couldn’t continue to witness the toll that our isolation, our running away, has taken on you, knowing that it was all because of me. We fled the kingdom to escape the consequences of my poorly timed decisions, and now I am confronted with the unbearable reality that our love and our lives are marred by the very choices I made. I could only run so far from them. There is only so much distance I can put between me and the past, but the ghosts of my mistakes will always haunt me, and I can no longer stand and watch as you, too, suffer from it.
You have shown me a love and loyalty that I didn’t deserve, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Even when I faltered, when I was unworthy of your affection, you stood by me. When you learned of the lies I’ve told you, you still gave me the benefit of the doubt. Your unwavering loyalty and support has been both my solace and my shame. I cannot remain by your side any longer, not when I know that our suffering is a direct consequence of my failures. It was my fault that we had to leave our country, the place you called home and where your family was.
I know that time and time again, you’ve reassured me you don’t regret it. I know you wouldn’t have changed it for anything, that you have come to accept the reality of our life. I never doubted you, but I doubt myself. I always will. I could try my hardest to become someone good for you, someone worthy of you, and I fear that’s something I could never live up to you. Every time I look at you, I am reminded of who you are – someone who had always been too good for me. Someone who’d thrown away her life just so I wouldn’t be alone. Someone who’d betrayed her country and willingly followed me when I myself didn’t know where to go. You had always been perfect, always too loving, always putting others before yourself. You wouldn’t have chosen otherwise, which is why I decided to do make that choice for you instead.
I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.
I had to leave while you were asleep, because I feared that if I stayed, I would change my mind and keep you in this play pretend of house. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I believe it was the only choice that will allow you to find peace and healing. I hope you will understand that I am doing this because I want the best for you, even if it means I must be gone from your life.
Please know that I love you enough that I’m willing to accept you’re going to keep hating me again from now on. My heart aches knowing that I’d left you alone in this strange place, but it was the only thing I could do. I know you miss your parents, and you miss how your life used to be. I couldn’t keep you apart from them any longer.
Don’t be scared of what may lie ahead. There isn’t much that I can do for you, but I’ve already arranged and secured your safe return to Inarizaki. Wakatoshi has reassured me of this, and sooner or later, you will be escorted to reunite with your parents. Tobio is waiting for you, too.
I hope that, in time, everything will make sense, and that you will find the happiness and freedom that you deserve. As you read this letter, I’m probably miles away already. Please do not come looking for me, because I may find it impossible to not keep you to myself a little longer.
Forever yours, in love and regret,
Rintaro
The letter trembled in your hands, each word becoming a blur as your tears began to fall.
The ink started to smudge and bleed, his neat handwriting dissolving into dark, spreading blotches. Your sobs wracked your body, each cry an echo of the betrayal and heartbreak that consumed you.
As the reality of his abandonment sank in, the air around you seemed to close in, heavy with the weight of his departure. You felt as though you were suffocating, the room closing in with the oppressive silence of his absence. The letter slipped from your hands, but you clutched it desperately as though it were a lifeline, the only connection left to the man who had left you behind.
In a frantic haze, you ignored his request to not come looking for him, a surge of determination driving you outside. Your feet were bare, and the cold ground met them with unforgiving harshness. The chill and roughness of the terrain did little to slow you down, and you pushed through, driven by a desperate need to find him. He couldn’t be that far, but then again, you couldn’t tell how long you’d been asleep for. Still, you ran, each step a mix of pain and desperation, the ground cutting into your feet until they were raw and bleeding. The physical pain was a distant second to unforgiving way your heart shattered into pieces, the vision of his face and the agony of his departure the only thing driving you forward.
Hours seemed to stretch endlessly as you searched, your hope dwindling with each passing minute.
Exhaustion began to overtake you, your legs heavy and your breaths labored. The landscape blurred around you, a twisted mirage of your torment. At the back of your head, you swore you could still see him – could still see his broad back watching the sunrise, could still feel his warm hands interlacing with yours through the morning fog. Even if he was no longer there.
Spent and broken, you collapsed onto the cold ground, clutching the letter tightly against your chest. Your bare feet, now wounded and battered, throbbed with pain, but the physical hurt was insignificant compared to the emptiness carved out in your heart.
Bone weary, you laid on the cold ground, tears mixing with the dirt, the letter your only solace. You held the wrinkled letter close to your chest, the only sound was the ragged whisper of your sobs, echoing into the forest where his presence used to be.
Hours passed you by.
You laid there, unmoving, the cold ground helping you numb your aching heart. Just as the forest seemed to blanket you within its freezing embrace, you heard the distant sound of footsteps. They grew closer, and you looked up, your heart pounding with a mix of dread and hope. You’d expected to see Rintaro, desperately hoping that he’d taken back his words and returned. That he never meant to leave, and he was here to stay. And then, as if conjured by your deepest longing and torment, he appeared – the very man who plagued your dreams, the one you had chosen to leave behind.
Kiyoomi.
The past two years had been kind to him, despite his grief. He stood a little taller, if not a little broader, too. But it was evident on his face, the misery that you were certain mirrored yours. His face that had been etched with a permanent frown darkened upon the sight of you – laid out in the floor caked in dirt, shivering in nothing but a nightgown and Rintaro’s letter clutched upon your chest. Wordlessly, he hurried to you. Crouching beside you, his movements were swift and sure, like having you in his arms was the most natural thing and he was simply reclaiming what was his. Gently, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. His coat, warm and familiar and still smelling like him, enveloped you, shielding you from the night’s gold.
And he still felt like home.
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. Just like that, the dam had broken – your sorrow flooded through, your cries erupted at the back of your throat, raw and unrestrained. Kiyoomi pulled you closer, his embrace tender yet firm, as he was afraid holding you tighter would further break you apart.
He placed gentle kisses on your forehead, rocking you back and forth as an attempt to soothe you. As you clung to him, the warmth of his body and the softness of his touch eased your trembling. His arms held you tightly, enveloping you in his embrace like a protective shield.
He felt like a sanctuary in the storm – warm and reassuring. You yearned to nestle against his chest, to bury your face in the comforting curve of his embrace, and hold on tightly while you let the storm pass. Only it never would, even if the storm had already done its damage and travelled a hundred miles away. Kiyoomi could never undo the damage it had left in its wake.
“It’s okay,” he murmured against your hair, and for once, you doubted how true his words would be. “I’m going to take you home now.”
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reidmania · 2 days
Text
sharpest tool | s.reid
(chapter three, full machine)
‘I'm a forest fire, you're the kerosene. I had a life here before you, but now it's burnin'. I know I know better and you're ignorin' me, still, if you asked me to run away, i'd go easily’
summary; you know you have a bad history with relationships, so to try not to get in your own head when you stop hearing from spencer.
warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset.
taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules
2.1k words.
SERIES MASTERLIST
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Two weeks. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Spencer. You understood the demands of his job, that it kept him busy and a lot of the time you were fine with that — you enjoyed your space and your own personal time. You had never had an issue with him being gone on cases before but he would always text you or call you when he got the chance.
And never had he been on a case for two weeks. Not that you knew of anyways.
It was difficult not to jump to conclusions and ruin the idea of him you had. It was difficult not to shut down. It was difficult to not think ‘how could you be so stupid’ and you were trying really really hard to not repeat past mistakes and project past relationships onto this one.
But it wasn’t even a relationship.
It wasn’t like he had talked to you at all. The first two days after he left for his case he had sent you numerous texts, telling you how sorry he was for having to leave early, he called you on the first night and stayed on the phone until you had fallen asleep. Everything was normal. There was nothing that set off any warning bells in your head.
That made you feel even worse.
You hadn’t spammed him with texts, nor calls. You hadn’t messaged him since the last text you sent was left on delivered. You wouldn’t beg for him to reply to you, you wouldn’t beg for an explanation on what you might’ve done wrong. You’d rather live with the lack of closure than further damage to your pride.
But then there was a part of you that wondered if maybe something happened to him, a big part of you worried that something happened to him — actually. You tried to ignore the lingering dwindle of anxiety in your stomach as you carried on with your day to day life. You tried so hard to ignore it.
But two weeks was a long time to ignore an aching gut feeling, one that kept you up at night and never seemed to go away.
Could you have called Spencer? Yes. You could’ve. But did you want to risk the call being ignored and every lingering doubt in your mind being proven correct and then be embarrassed about it? God no.
You were a shame spiral when you instead texted Penelope, who had given you her number when she saw you and Spencer at the grocery store, the last time you had seen him. She begged you to reach out when she got back so you two could arrange to hang out.
You weren’t even sure if they were back. Normally you would know that by Spencer coming over to your house at some ridiculous time and delving into your arms like it was the only place he had ever been able to call home, but he didn’t come over this time.
It was a simple text, ‘Hey Penelope, how are you? I haven’t heard from Spencer in a while so i just wanted to make sure he was okay’
It was good enough. You didn’t want to explain how you just wanted to make sure he was alive so you didn’t feel guilty for hating him. You didn’t exactly want to hate somebody who was dead. Yet a twisted part of you hoped that something had happened to him, because at least then he wasn’t just ignoring you.
What you weren’t expecting was your phone to light up with an incoming call from the one and only Penelope Garcia. You answered it, partly scared that she was calling because texting you to tell you that Spencer was dead seemed insensitive.
“Hello?” You answered. The place in your bed warm from the weight of your body as you shuffled slightly. It wasn’t exactly late, but it was past evening times. You heard mumbling and shuffling on the other side of the phone, before a happy voice.
“Hello my sweet angel!” Penelope greeted you, even in your doubtful mood the warm greeting from the sweet women made a smile line your lips. “I got your message — I’m a little confused. He is fine, he just left work” She answered.
Okay. Not dead.
“Oh” It passed through your lips because now you were just overwhelming confused. “Uh- How long have you guys been back?” You asked, almost afraid of the answer you would receive. You were hoping she would tell you they had only just gotten back, and that the case had been so busy that nobody had time to text anybody.
“A little over a week.” She answered. That made your chest tighten, a lot. Almost painfully. You didn’t want to cry, you didn’t want to give the situation the satisfaction of your tears. You didn’t want to give Spencer any more power over you.
“Right. Okay. Thanks.” It came out shakier than you intended it to be and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. You took pride in your ability to not care about things like this, you didn’t get emotionally involved because of this reason. Your mind was overwhelmed with an abundance of doubts and self depreciation. Embarrassment. You were so embarrassedz
“Did Spencer not tell you? He has been stroppy all week. We thought maybe he had messed up and you were mad at him.” The words came out as a playful joke, but you found it humourless. Because although you weren’t mad at him, you were now.
You wondered if you even had a right to be mad. Clearly he wasn’t dead, so he was just ignoring you. You hated how much that thought made your heart hurt an overwhelming amount. You hated how you had now let someone in enough for their absence to have an effect on you.
“He.. No. He hasn’t told me” You mumbled out, your voice representing how distant your mind was from this conversation. A million different thoughts and each one as bad as the last. You didn’t want to tell his co-worker and one of his friends that he had just up and ghosted you, you didn’t think it was fair, but you could basically hear the confusion and concern lacing her voice. “He hasn’t talked to me at all in over a week..”
“What?” Her response came out hard and fast, tone laced with clear shock and confusion. “Thats- I mean it was a rough case but.. not.. that rough — Maybe he is just overwhelmed? Have you tried calling him? He can get distracted easily.” She rambled, trying just as hard as you were to find a valid explanation for his sudden disappearance.
But you both knew Spencer. Or you thought you did. You knew enough to know about his memory. He didn’t just forget. Or maybe he did. Were you forgettable for him? Were you something so minority important that it slipped through the tight grasp of his memory. Oh that wasn’t a fun thought.
“No- uhm.. I’m not going to call him.. If he wants to talk to me he would.” You muttered. You wanted to believe that, you wanted to not care as much as you were making it out to seem you didn’t. You wanted to feel casually about it. About him.
You really regretted kissing him two months ago.
You wished you could be the type of person who believed that was no point dwelling, the type of person who would be grateful it happened rather than sad it was over — but you just weren’t. You didn’t think you were capable of getting over someone unless you hated them with every fibre of your being. Unless they hurt you to the point of no forgiveness. You couldn’t be glad it happened — not when it ended like this.
It always ended like this, you knew that from the start.
“Im so sorry. I have no idea whats going on with him!” She apologised in his behalf and it was almost funny to you. How come a girl you met once seemed to have more remorse than the guy you had (stupidly) falling in love with.
You shook your head, but she couldn’t see you. “Don’t apologise. Its fine. Its not a big deal really. We weren’t much of anything anyways.” Maybe the words came out fast enough for you to believe them, maybe they were to try and convince yourself that it was true — that it was how you felt.
It seemed it was how he felt.
“Oh sweetheart” Penelope synthesised. “How about this — We can have a massive movie night at mine sometime over the weekend and if you haven’t heard from him by then, then we can talk about how bad his eyesight is and the amount of sugar he puts in his coffee” She mumbled.
You let out a laugh, you wished that his bad eyesight and way too much sugar was the worst you could say about him right now. Your opinions on the boy seemed a lot stronger. Although it made your heart ache that it was his friend apologising and making you feel better.
“I’d like that.” You said, pulling your knees closer to your chest as your curled in on yourself in your bed. You hated how cold and empty it felt without his presence by your side. Even with the same glow of your fairy lights, the room was lit with the same warmth when it was just you.
You were mad. If you could only use one emotion to describe how you felt it would be mad. Embarrassment, disappointment, hurt — they’d all be thrown out the window. You were just so mad.
At him, for making you believe that maybe things would be different, for letting you get close to him, allowing you to trust him, open up to him. You were mad at him for giving and taking like it was some sort of game. You were mad at his lack of communication. You were mad at how he once looked at you like you held so much value only to leave as if you were worthless.
But you were more mad at yourself. You had made it a rule not to date. You had a life, a good happy life before. You busied yourself with work and going to the library to read and get a moment of peace beneath the shelves of books, you enjoyed getting your coffee’s from the small cafe on the corner in the morning, and dancing with your small group of friends at the club on the weekends, and then Spencer came along and now all those things you enjoyed so much seemed dimmer without knowing you’d see him at the end of the day.
You were frustrated because you knew better than to let someone get close to you. You knew how codependent you became on the existence of another by your side. You knew this. You knew all of this. You knew you were cursed, unloveable if you really wanted to hurt your own feelings. You knew this.
Yet you let yourself get sucked into his sweet words and empty promises, his soft touch and warm embrace. You let yourself believe that things might be different this time.
And god were you mad about that.
But most of all, you were mad about the fact that despite all of this. All of the doubt and anger swirling through your veins and leaving every harsh breath that existed your lips, you didn’t hate him. You were mad at him — so mad, but there wasn’t a single part of you that would ever say you hated Spencer Reid.
Not optionally. If it was up to you, you would go back in time and you wouldn’t have let him get close enough for the line to be between love and hate.
You worried, still. About if he was okay, what he was doing. You hated that. You hated that he had made you soft.
You hated that you let him make you soft.
You hated that you still wanted him to reach out to you, apologise and say he had just been so busy, or say he just needed time after the case. You hated that if he showed up on your door step right now you’d probably let him in without a word — whereas if this was prior to six months ago you would’ve slammed the door in his face and told him to get fucked.
Love didn’t come easy for you. But loving Spencer was the easiest thing you have ever done. Hating him was near impossible.
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fruitjoos · 2 days
Text
do you trust me?
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bully!patrick x reader
summary: bully patrick…. leads to [redacted] 18+
warnings friendly banter, light smut + i’m a little rusty so… be gentle
you met patrick when you were ten. he lived next door, just a skinny kid with dirty sneakers who always wanted to ride bikes. you didn’t mind. the two of you were inseparable then, tethered by boredom and proximity. you got older, though. things shift. kids don’t stay innocent, not for long.
by high school, patrick had drifted, caught up with the boys who reeked of arrogance and cigarettes, the ones who slammed lockers too hard and swaggered through the halls like they owned them. you were still you. quiet, stubborn. not the kind of person who backed down, but never loud about it either. when patrick started cracking jokes at your expense, you told yourself it didn’t matter. it shouldn’t, but god, did it sting. the way he laughed too loud, punched your shoulder too hard, joined his new friends in making you the punchline.
the first time he called you "freak" it landed like a rock to the chest. right there in the middle of a crowd, his voice sharp, eyes avoiding yours. you tried to brush it off, tried to pretend that the patrick from years ago was still buried somewhere under the snide smirks and dirty jokes. but when he started pulling your hair, burping in your face, it was harder to believe.
then there was the history project. the one that felt like a joke before it even started. partners, the teacher said, and you hoped, quietly, fiercely, that patrick wouldn’t be assigned to you. but life has a cruel sense of humor, doesn’t it? your name with his, as if the universe couldn’t resist rubbing salt in the wound. his groan reached your ears before yours even escaped your throat, and when he asked to switch partners, the heat rose to your cheeks. it was like you were something to be ashamed of, something small and pitiful.
after school, he found you at your locker, the same locker he used to stand next to, back when he wasn’t so... different. "what's up, loser," he muttered, shoulder checking you as if it were nothing, like you hadn’t spent summers kicking soccer balls in the backyard, sharing popsicles and trading comic books. now, all he had for you was sarcasm and a half hearted, "i’ll be over at six to work on the project."
he didn’t even wait for a reply. just walked off, hands shoved in his pockets like the conversation was already forgotten. his friends watched him go, smirking, like you were just another part of their cruel little game.
you got home, trying to shake off the sour taste the day left in your mouth. your dad asked how school was, but it was a formality. he wasn’t really listening, not past your shoulder, at least. "good," you lied, because the truth wasn’t worth the effort.
then the doorbell rang. you knew it was him before you even checked. he used to come over without knocking, back when things were simpler. now, it felt wrong, like he didn’t belong here anymore, yet he walked in like he still did, brushing past you without so much as a glance. the strap of his bag almost hit your face. typical.
your mom lit up like it was some reunion, like she didn’t notice the shift between you. “patrick, sweetheart,” she cooed, pulling him into a hug, her hand smoothing over his curls like she used to. it made your stomach twist, hearing her treat him like he hadn’t changed. but he had, hadn’t he?
you didn’t wait around for their small talk. upstairs felt safer, quieter. patrick followed, like he always had a right to, like he didn’t need to ask permission. he knew the way. he’d been in your room a hundred times. back then, when he was your friend. now, though, he was just the guy who sat behind you in class, yanked your ponytail when he wanted answers, and whispered insults under his breath.
funny how things turn out.
time dragged, the minutes between words heavy, like even the clock didn’t want to be there. patrick sat slouched at your desk, picking at his fingernails, bored already. he mentioned he only had an hour. just enough time before he had to meet his friends at the dump. a dive bar downtown, the kind of place that smelled like sweat and stale beer. you raised an eyebrow, asking if he was even old enough to get in, knowing full well he wasn’t. he pulled out a fake ID with a flourish, like it was something to be proud of. 23. five years older than his real age. you shook your head, a bitter scoff escaping before you could stop it.
"what?" he snapped, catching the edge in your voice. "stop being such a goody two shoes, will you?" he leaned in, voice dropping low, sharp. "no one likes a prude." his words, hissed in your own room, your space, hit harder than you thought they would. this wasn’t the boy who used to make you laugh until you cried. this wasn’t the patrick who snuck out to the park with you at midnight, just to talk about stupid dreams and shared your secrets with.
you could feel the tears gathering, uninvited, in the corners of your eyes. you didn’t want to cry. not in front of him. not when he’d see it as some kind of victory. but it was like he could sense it, the moment your breath hitched. he sighed, like the weight of your sadness was too much for him to carry. “don’t,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “don’t cry, okay?”
but it was too late, and the first tear slipped down your cheek. you sniffled, wiping at your face quickly, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening, but his tone changed. "i’m sorry," he said, almost too soft to believe. he said it again, as if repetition might make it real. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it.”
for a few long moments, neither of you said anything. you sat there, on the edge of your bed, while he fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket, the silence growing thicker, heavier.
then he spoke, too casually, too easily. “i know how to make you feel better.”
“lay back,” he said, his voice firmer than you expected, almost a command. you blinked, caught off guard. “what?” you asked, still wiping the tears from your cheeks, not sure if you heard him right.
“do you trust me?” he asked, and his eyes had that look again, the one that used to be familiar, the one that always dared you to go along with whatever half baked idea he had.
“no,” you scoffed, voice thick, still bitter from his words earlier. you didn’t even hesitate, but your chest tightened a little, because there was a time when that question wouldn’t have needed to be asked.
he tilted his head, the silent gesture pressing the question again, almost like a challenge. you sighed, exhaling the fight from your lungs. “fine,” you muttered, lying back from the edge of the bed. you didn’t know why you were giving in. maybe a part of you still believed that under all the rough edges, he was still the patrick you used to know.
his eyes scanned over your room for a second before grabbing something. “put this on,” he said, handing it to you.
you looked down at it, blinking in confusion. a pink sleeping mask, silky and soft to the touch. ridiculous, absurd. you stared at it, then at him, trying to make sense of the moment. “what... are you doing?” you asked, more to yourself than him.
he didn’t answer, just nodded toward the mask. you could tell he was waiting, watching, like the whole thing was some inside joke you weren’t in on yet. for reasons you couldn’t explain, you did as he said, slipping the mask over your head. maybe you were tired. maybe you just didn’t want to argue anymore. or maybe, somewhere deep down, you did still trust him, even if you hated admitting it.
you blinked, confused, the world blurring slightly behind the mask. there was no sound, no movement from patrick, just this heavy stillness. the quiet stretched on, unsettling, until suddenly, you felt his hands lifting up your skirt—firm, steady, grasping your thighs. he pulled them forward, guiding your legs around his shoulders.
“patrick?” your voice came out small, the confusion clear, but you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read whatever expression he wore. just as his name left your lips, you felt him move, closing the space between you. and then, unexpectedly, a cold, slimy glob landed with a wet splat on your cunt. his lips met your soft, surprisingly already soaked pussy. soft, warmer than you imagined, pressing gently but with a certainty that made your heart lurch.
it was so sudden, so out of place in the middle of this strange, awkward moment that your mind couldn’t catch up to your body. for a second, you froze, not sure what to do or think. this was patrick. the same boy who had spent the past year mocking you, pulling at your hair, calling you names. but now, here he was, lapping up your juices, his breath mingling with the heat radiating from your core, like none of that had happened. like this was the only thing that mattered.
his velvety tongue swirled around your pink, swollen nub. your body jolted as his teeth nipped at it. your mouth hung open as you gripped onto the sheets, trying to ground yourself. the slurping sounds he made sent shivers up your spine, “fuck.” you gasped, almost uncontrollably. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing gentle kisses against your clit. almost like he was in love with it. in love with you. “i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he added, his warm breath adding to your pleasure. he asked if you forgive him and all you could do was nod, whimpering a small, “yes.” your eyebrows knitting together in satisfaction. his tongue flicked over your clit vigorously, making you come within seconds.
your hole clenched rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. your fingers tangled in a few of his curls. “when did you learn how to do that?” you panted, eyes still covered. he shrugged as if you could see him before pulling the mask from over your eyes. your cheeks instantly flushing when reality hit you. your ex best friend, bully or whatever just sucked an orgasm out of you. for fun. to please you. to make you forgive him. because he still cares, clearly.
he pressed his lips that were smothered in your liquids against your own. the taste of yourself soaking into your tongue. “you were my first experiment,” he murmured, his voice low. before you could process the weight of his words, he leaned in again, pressing another soft, almost calculated peck against your trembling lips.
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weirdmarioenemies · 3 days
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Name: Rip Cheato
Debut: Paper Mario
Hello! I am glad you made it. You are just in time, because some guy is here. He's here looking for You! He wants to sell you a Dried Mushroom for 64 coins. Will you buy it? It's not a good deal, but consider this: he has a sort of lamp antenna growing from his scalp. I think that is pretty cool, personally.
He probably makes good use of his lamptenna, since he lives in the sewer. I bet a Sewer Man would know his fungus! Maybe his Dried Mushrooms are impeccable. Maybe he even dries them with his lamp. Don't be judgemental, now. Don't judge someone because his name is derived from "ripoff" and "cheat". Are you the kind of person who would immediately assume someone smells bad, just because their name is Poop Fartley? You better not be. Rip Cheato's name is a little deceiving because while he does sell junk for 64 coins, if you buy what he offers, he'll also sell Star Pieces for 64 coins, and Hoo-Wee! That's a Hot Commodity! I trust him. I think he's just being cheeky for fun.
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Name: Chet Rippo
Debut: Paper Mario
Now this guy is whuzzah! What's the deal with this guy! Rip Cheato is weird, true, being strangely human in a game where those are quite limited, but he has a theme going on. He looks like a Sewer Man. Now here we have Chet Rippo, who is some sort of alien platypus clown umbrella? I don't know what he is, but I think it is absolutely splendid. To quote an ancient philosopher:
"Sometimes in life, there is a weird guy." -Opabinia
If I didn't know any better, I might think Chet Rippo would appear from a UFO or circus tent or perhaps a dimensional portal. He doesn't! He just hangs out in Toad Town. He's a weird guy, but a weird guy is still a guy, you know? Except this is no normal guy because he can alter Mario's abilities! For 39 coins he will raise Marios HP, FP, or BP by two points, but- and this is important- he says "heh heh". That means he's shady! For each stat he increases, he will decrease the others each by one!
This makes Chet Rippo far stranger of a guy. Someone in real life could sell you overpriced garbage. But someone in real life altering your stats for a low price? Scary to think about! Imagine someone granting you the ability to remember twice as many bug facts as you currently can, but also making the vision in your left eye worse and making you 25% more sensitive to cold. Frightening magic! But at least the guy doing it is a funny creature.
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Chet Rippo appears in The Thousand Year Door as well, but like, does he really? This is a whole different design, and it's not nearly as fun... Eyes In A Void Wizards are fun by default, and so is wearing a barrel on one's head, but this game has a bunch of Eyes In A Void Wizards, and this guy used to be one of the weirdest creatures in the entire game! To hell with this guy. Let's look at his better version again.
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Look at him go! Like a flapjack octopus! His arms are even like the fluttering fins! Could he truly just be a big octopus wearing a weird hat? We may never know...
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sturniolobsessed · 2 days
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SFW ALPHABET - C.STURNIOLO
Warnings : Nothing really, maybe just a bit of swearing
Summary : Same as the Matt SFW alphabet, but it’s Chris
Authors Note : This is the last of the ‘alphabet series’ so please let me know any other things you would like to see. If you like the idea of the text convos or the multiple part story, please let me know and I will start brainstorming. Btw, sorry for the shameless plug lmao <3
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A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Chris is an affectionate person and that will definitely not end with his girlfriend. He will definitely just want you to be near him whenever you can be.
B - Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
I feel like you would meet through a mutual friend or something and then get really close. I feel like Chris would already be dead cute when you guys are just friends, always random hugs and little I love you’s every now and then.
C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Chris is well known for being a very cuddly person and he will just come up to you and give you a big hug and kiss your forehead. He would love it even more if you’re cuddling together in bed and watching a movie or just having a late night talk.
D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
As we’ve learned from Matt, Chris barely ever does chores around the house, even when his job is literally just to take the bin out so cooking and cleaning wouldn’t be his favourite thing to do. He might do it for you though, emphasis on might. When it comes to settling down, he has voiced before that having a girlfriend is his biggest fear so the idea would scare him a bit but I think that, if he’s found the right person, he wouldn’t feel anywhere near as scared.
E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Chris would try his absolute best to not hurt your feelings and make sure that you can get your opinion across. If you were to start crying, he would still definitely comfort you and, I think, he’d want you to still be friends after it. He wouldn’t want it to ruin his relationship with his best friend.
F - Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
As I said earlier, Chris is quite scared of commitment in a relationship so it would definitely be something that he’d have to ease himself into but once he feels more comfortable with you and the change in your relationship, commitment would be much easier for him. When it comes to marriage, I personally don’t think that that is even a thought in Chris’ mind yet. He’s always been the type to live in the present. But don’t worry, things can change.
G - Gentle (How gentle are they, physically and emotionally?)
Chris is a very gentle and kind hearted person so I think that he would be very gentle with you. On the other hand though, I don’t think that if you were dating Chris, that he would be the most sappy person ever and I think that your relationship would be more fun and playful, teasing each other about the most random shit.
H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like? How often do they do it?)
I’ve kind of already covered this entire section so I’m sorry if I’m repeating myself but Chris would give you hugs wherever and whenever. He would love to just wrap his arms around you and hold you to show his love to you.
I - I love you (How fast do they say that they love you?)
My answer for this is basically exactly the same as the Matt SFW alphabet (if you haven’t read it and you want to, I’ve linked it here). If you guys were friends before, it would be very easy to say it because you probably already have said it when you were mates and if you weren’t friends before, he would probably wait it out a little bit more because it would be more of a milestone.
J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Chris would probably more the jealous type than Matt but he’s still not gonna go round, kicking and screaming because you hugged another guy but if a guy was blatantly all over you, he’ll make a bit of a scene. He’d probably just walk over to you, completely ignore the guy, and just like make out with you or something.
K - Kisses (What are their kisses like?)
Chris’ kisses would probably be a bit more on the passionate side of things but he is also definitely not against sweet, sensual kisses. He would probably be the type of boyfriend to be just softly kissing and then he’ll slap your ass or something just because he ‘felt like it’.
L - Little ones (How are they around children?)
He is very sweet around children and would absolutely love their presence. He’d definitely be the more chill type, not like “aww hey little one, you’re so cute” kind of thing but he’d treat them like his best friend.
M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)
Same as Matt, Chris gets up quite late in the day so you’d probably already be up and doing things when Chris wakes up. When he does, he’ll realise that you’re not there and then bitch and complain until you cuddle with him.
N - Night (What are nights with them like?)
You and Chris would chill up for ages just yapping, cuddling, playing Fort, watching movies, making out, whatever you’re feeling that night. You will probably end up going to sleep before him and he will hold you to help him lull himself to sleep.
O - Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Chris would probably prefer to keep things private at the start and slowly reveal things, slowly getting deeper and deeper with the topics. It’ll start off as his favourite childhood movie to his first traumatic experience but he might take a while to open up fully.
P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)
As we all know, Chris’ patience wears thin quiet quickly under normal circumstances but he really tries his best when it comes to you. Sometimes, he’s very patient and he’ll listen to the same story 15 times happily but other times, someone will have done something to piss him off and you won’t have even finished the story for the first time and he’s already a little snappy. You know how to put him in his place though if he starts getting bitchy.
Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail or are they more forgetful?)
Considering this mf can barely remember what he had for breakfast some days, he’s pretty good at remembering things about you. He tends to remember little things that you even forget about but if you ask him your favourite colour, he’s stuttering. He remembers the weirdest shit but it’s cute.
R - Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)
Chris would love the cute and sentimental moments and he thinks about them daily. I’d say his favourite would be, telling you his brand name and then showing you his first, finished piece of clothing. He loves this moment so much because you were just to most supportive girlfriend ever and it reminds Chris that he chose right when it comes to you.
S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
I think that Chris is one protective mf and if anyone says anything even slightly offensive about you, he has something to say. I feel like his form of protection is just making sure no one hurts your feelings or makes you think less of yourself.
T - Try (How much energy would they put into the relationship?)
I think that he would probably be the same as Matt, in which, he’s busy but whenever he has free time, he’ll make sure to either actually go see you or check up on you. I’d like to say that Chris would be putting all of his time and energy into your relationship but he physically wouldn’t have time between his job, etc, and you completely understand that.
U - Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?)
I feel like, because Chris would have not had a girlfriend before you, there’s some things in relationships that he’s a little bit clueless about. Like, you’ll see him scrolling through Instagram or something and he’ll like a girls photo where she’s blatantly wearing a tiny bikini. He has no malicious intentions and he thinks that you’re the most beautiful girl ever but he can be a little clueless about some things.
V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
I feel like this would change the further you get into the relationship. At the start, Chris would want to make sure he looks as good as he can for when he’s seeing you but after a while, he’ll happily come over to your house in a bin bag if he had to. It all depends on how comfortable he is with you.
W - Whole (Do they feel incomplete without you?)
I don’t think that he would ever feel incomplete necessarily but I think that he’d feel a little out of sorts if you spent an extended period of time apart because he’d just want to see you. So I guess that kind of is feeling incomplete but I wouldn’t word it that way.
X - Xtra (A random headcannon about them)
Chris absolutely adores random little gifts. If you gave him a gift and just tell him that you got it for him because it reminded you of him, he will remember it and cherish it forever.
Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Chris absolutely hates people who are rude to others for no reason. Like, if you and Chris are out on a date and you’re being rude to the server, he will actually want to get up and leave.
Z - Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)
I mean, Chris is always still getting his 8 hours but instead of getting those 8 hours between 12am - 8am, he’ll get his hours sleep between 5am - 1pm.
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Taglist : @astrolynnworld @moncherriis @mattybsbitch @strnzzvsp @strniohoeee @sturnsem @sturnsdarling @sturnslesbo @sturnioloho @sturniolo-slvt @sturniolojpg @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @loud-sturniolos @iheartmattsbeard @sturnioloslife @stuniolvs @mattgirl4eva @33sturniolo @sturnsxx @thetriplets3 @slashzgirl @hoeforchrizz @shadowthesim
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Rome wasn't built in a day
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Alex had never expected his college life to take this kind of turn. He’d moved to New York for school, planning to live on campus like most students, but when he found a better deal on an off-campus apartment that financial aid would cover, he jumped on it. The apartment was in a decent neighborhood, close to the subway, and the landlord didn’t ask too many questions. Seemed like a win.
What he hadn’t planned on, though, was Frank—his new roommate.
Frank was… something else. The guy was like a time capsule from a decade ago, straight out of Jersey Shore. From the gelled-back hair, the deep tan, ridiculous yelling at football and ufc matches every weekend, the flashy chains, to the relentless love of tank tops and gold watches. Alex wasn’t sure if Frank was for real or if this was just an elaborate, extended joke.
But here’s the thing: despite his douchey exterior, Frank was actually a pretty nice guy. Sure, he blasted club music at ungodly hours and flexed in the mirror every time he passed it, but Frank was always chill. He’d offer Alex food whenever he cooked, made sure the apartment was clean, and always gave him a heads-up when he had people over. Plus, Frank clearly knew what he was doing in the gym. The guy was shredded, and Alex had to admit, Frank’s discipline when it came to his diet and workout routine was impressive.
It didn’t take long before Alex’s curiosity got the best of him.
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One day, after weeks of seeing Frank pound protein shakes and head to the gym religiously, Alex asked him for some advice. He had always been a casual gym-goer, but seeing Frank’s dedication made him wonder if he could up his own game.
“Yo, Frank,” Alex said one afternoon as they sat in the living room. “What do you usually eat for those gains, man? And how do you stay so consistent?”
Frank grinned, pausing the DJ Pauly D remix playing on his speakers. “Bro, it’s all about focus foods and the right lifts. Stick to lean meats, eggs, beans, lots of veggies. And you gotta hit the weights hard. No shortcuts.”
Alex nodded, scribbling down some notes on his phone. “Got any recommendations? Like content or something I can watch?”
Frank’s grin grew wider. “Oh, for sure. I’ll send you some stuff. There’s Dom Mazzetti, Vinny Guadagnino—some good shit, bro. But hey, I’ll send you my playlist too. Got a WAV file I use at the gym that keeps me hyped.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “A playlist?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Frank said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s got some fire tracks. Also, I threw in some personal affirmations underneath it, helps me stay focused during my lifts. You probably won’t even notice them, but they help, bro. Trust me.”
Alex wasn’t really buying into the whole “subliminal affirmation” thing. It sounded like some weird self-help nonsense. But Frank was shredded, and if these little tricks worked for him, maybe they were worth a shot.
Later that evening, Alex plugged in his headphones and hit play on Frank’s WAV file. It started with “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me”—a male cover that felt oddly calming. The song transitioned into upbeat remixes like “Fireball” and other club tracks that seemed to pump adrenaline into his veins. Somewhere in between, Sinatra’s smooth voice made an appearance, bringing a strange, nostalgic energy to the mix.
As the playlist played, Alex caught faint whispers beneath the music—barely noticeable. “You love the gym. You crave the weights. Tanning makes you feel amazing. You rep the Italian pride with every lift.”
He chuckled to himself. This subliminal shit can’t be real,��he thought. But, whatever—Frank swears by it.
The playlist ended with “Lucky, Lucky Me” again, and as Alex dozed off that night, the tune echoed faintly in his head.
The changes didn’t happen overnight, but as the days went by, Alex began to notice subtle differences. It started with his workouts. He’d always been someone who worked out occasionally, but now there was something different. One morning, as he walked past the gym on his way to class, he felt an urge—a need to lift. It wasn’t just about getting in shape anymore. Something about the weights called to him, pulling him in.
He ended up inside, grabbing a set of dumbbells and diving into a full workout. By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat, but instead of feeling exhausted, he felt exhilarated. There was a rush—an energy that coursed through him, leaving him wanting more.
From that point on, the gym became part of his daily routine. At first, he didn’t even realize it was happening. He started following Frank’s tips—lifting heavier, focusing on compound movements, and pushing himself harder with each session. His muscles responded quickly, growing faster than they ever had before. His shirts started to fit tighter, hugging his chest and arms in ways they never had before. Every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but flex, admiring his progress.
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It wasn’t just the gym either. One afternoon, Alex caught himself in front of the bathroom mirror, noticing how pale his skin looked under the fluorescent lights. Without thinking much of it, he booked an appointment at the tanning salon down the street. After his first session, he looked at himself in the mirror, marveling at the golden glow on his skin. It made him feel good, confident—like he was stepping into a new version of himself.
Tanning became part of his routine, just like the gym. He started looking forward to that golden glow, the way it made his muscles stand out more, and how it just felt right.
One weekend, Alex found himself wandering into a clothing store, drawn to a section of tank tops with bold prints—Italian flags, American flags, vibrant colors that screamed confidence. He picked up a few without thinking twice, the fabric feeling perfect against his newly defined arms. When he got home and slipped into one of the tanks, he stood in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps. The tank hugged his body in all the right places, and as he admired his reflection, a grin spread across his face.
Damn, I look good.
It wasn’t just the clothes that made him feel this way—it was the pride, the feeling of representing his heritage with every lift, every flex. It felt right.
The most surprising change came with his voice. At first, it was barely noticeable—a slight shift in his accent, a few new words slipping into his vocabulary. But as the weeks went on, the transformation in his speech became undeniable. His voice took on a thicker Jersey inflection, and words like “bro” and “yo” started slipping out naturally, almost without him realizing it. He spoke with more confidence, more swagger, his words carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.
He even noticed how loud he’d become, but it wasn’t obnoxious—it felt like he was owning the room. His friends started to comment on it, but Alex didn’t mind. It felt like the way he was supposed to talk, like his voice was finally matching the rest of his transformation.
One night, Alex found himself scrolling through YouTube, where he came across a Dom Mazzetti video. He clicked on it, expecting to laugh at the over-the-top persona, but something else happened. As Dom joked about gym culture, diet, and lifting, Alex found himself nodding along, relating to the lifestyle. The gym wasn’t just a place to work out anymore—it was part of who he was becoming.
The next few weeks passed in a blur. Alex’s days revolved around the gym, tanning, and repping his heritage with pride. He found himself following more content creators who embodied the same mindset—guys who lived for the grind, the lifts, and the pride in who they were.
His roommate Frank noticed the changes, too. “Bro, you’re looking jacked,” Frank said one afternoon as Alex flexed in the mirror before heading out to the gym. “You flexing the gains hard now.”
Alex grinned, running a hand through his hair, which he’d started gelling back every morning. “Yeah, man. It just feels right, you know?”
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Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a proud smirk on his face. “Told ya. Once you get in the groove, there’s no going back. You’re one of us now, bro. Tanning, lifting, and heritage. Welcome to the crew.”
Alex chuckled, feeling Frank’s words sink in. Wasn’t just about the workouts or the diet no more. It was the whole package—the attitude, the pride, the way he carried himself. He’d become confident, bold, and unapologetic. The gym had become his temple, and every flex in the mirror, every perfectly tanned muscle, reminded him of how far he’d come.
He spoke with more confidence now, his voice carrying a thick Jersey accent that seemed to come naturally. Words like “bro” and “yo” slipped out effortlessly, and he found himself embracing the louder, more assertive side of himself. Even his walk had changed—there was more swagger, more presence.
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A few weeks later, Alex and Frank were sitting in the living room, scrolling through profiles of potential new roommates. Their lease was ending soon, and they needed to find someone to fill the third room. Frank leaned back in his chair, sipping a protein shake as he swiped through a list of candidates.
“Yo, check this one out,” Alex said, pausing on a profile. “Marco Ricci. Italian last name.”
Frank raised an eyebrow and leaned in, studying the screen. “Oh shit, an Italian? That’s promising.”
They opened Marco’s profile, but instead of seeing someone flexing or rocking a tan, Marco looked... pretty regular. He wasn’t out of shape, but he wasn’t exactly lifting heavy either. Pale, with a pretty average physique, he was the kind of guy who didn’t seem to spend much time at the gym. His shirt was plain, and his expression, while friendly, was far from the confident swagger Alex and Frank had come to expect in their circle.
Alex chuckled, nudging Frank. “Dude’s kinda pasty, huh?”
Frank smirked. “Yeah, bro. Definitely needs some work. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know? He’s got the Italian blood—that’s what counts. We can mold him.”
Alex nodded, his mind already racing. Marco might not be there yet, but with the right guidance, who knows? The guy had potential. He just needed some direction.
“Yeah,” Alex said, swiping right on Marco’s profile. “We’ll get him there. If he’s down to move in, I have the perfect playlist in mind."
Frank chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Bro, he won’t know what hit him.”
Alex grinned, flexing in the mirror nearby. “Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”
Frank laughed again, raising his protein shake in a mock toast. “Damn straight, bro."
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WANNA BECOME A GUIDO FOR REAL? Try this subliminal:
Guido Subliminal (Accent, Mindset, Discipline, Extreme Confidence)
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Busy Bees
Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader
Word count: 3.7k
Notes: If I extended my closed requests deadline would you guys be mad 💀💀💀
P.S I’m dying my hair soon I’m so excited I could cry
P.P.S I miss my italics but they take so long to do
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“Ohhh my god these were the best brownies I’ve ever tasted in my entire life” Buck moans exaggeratedly as he lets his arm hang from the table. 
You’re just coming up from the bathroom as Chimney is finishing off the last one.
“Hey!! Did you even save me one??” You point at the empty pan and they all look at each other 
“Ummmm” Buck starts looking around through the pile of baked goods as you tap your foot. You cross your arms over your chest and he holds his hand up. 
“It’s fine, it’s fine!! Look!” He holds up a small pan, more of a personal one, and takes the plastic off 
“See? Made by the same person! Therefore equally as delicious” he hands it off to you and you stick your tongue out at him before accepting it. 
“Alright… I guess you can live… for now” You give him a little I’m watching you gesture and go to pop it in the toaster oven. 
“Hey, Buck? You have that brownie you wanted to give me earlier?” Eddie comes up the stairs next and Buck looks over at you with wide eyes. You roll your eyes and sigh, waving your fork at Eddie. 
“You wanna share with me? It’s definitely enough for two. Never trust Buck with brownies” You pull it from the oven and he shrugs, grabbing a fork from the drawer and following you to the table. 
“Don’t mind if I do” 
A couple of hours later, Buck is lying on top of the engine… and Ravi is trying to keep Hen from jumping off the balcony to land on the truck. 
“Buck! Get down from there!” Athena had brought you all back to the station to figure out what the hell had happened. You jump up and down trying to reach for him like it’s going to work at all. 
“Come on Buck! Here Bucky Bucky! I have more brownies!” You try to convince him to come down but he’s not budging. 
“What are we going to do” you groan as you lean against the truck and Eddie shrugs as he walks over. 
“Honestly we should probably just let Athena handle this…” he wipes the sweat from his brow and you stop, putting your hand on his shoulder. 
“Hey? Are you okay??” 
You stand next to him, your hand on his arm. You’d started to get hot and the buttons on your work shirt were starting to come undone easier and easier. The top of your breasts are exposed to the air, just try to keep yourself cool as best you can.
Eddie's eyes flicker down to your chest, and he can't help but let out a soft growl. His body is begging for some strange release, and you’re the only one who can provide it. He swallows thickly, trying to regain control. 
"I'm... I'm fine, Y/N. Just a bit... warm."
He can't meet your gaze, instead, his eyes dart around the room, searching for something, anything, to distract him from the heat building up between his legs. His hand shakily reaches up to brush a strand of hair off your forehead, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary.
You feel a familiar jolt of electricity and bite your lip, he still can’t really look at you, even if he’s trying, you can feel the shakiness in his hands and that gets your attention for a moment. 
“Eddie, you’re really burning up, maybe we should go sit down…”
He shifts his weight, trying to get more comfortable, but his hard cock is not making it easy. He can't help but let his eyes linger on your chest again. His mind is racing with the idea of tearing off your top, burying his face between your breasts, and feeling your nipples harden under his tongue.
Yeah because that was so normal… okay well- hear him out. 
“Uh-“ He clears his throat, trying to regain control, but his voice comes out a bit huskier than usual.
“M-maybe just some fresh air? Let’s step outside” 
“Of course”
You smile worriedly, helping him outside. You lead him over to the side of the station, letting him rest against the cool brick wall. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing calmly.
Something about the way he does that, the way his chest expands slowly. He’s unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and you can see his hot, glowy, skin peeking through. You wet your lips slowly, wanting to just jump him right there. 
Hold on a second. What? 
“C-Can I get you anything?” You fan yourself a bit, maybe being outside is even worse, despite being in the shade with a nice breeze blowing 
Eddie nods, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes for a moment, trying to get a grip on his racing thoughts.
“Some water I guess?”
He opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours once more, and he can't help but notice how your breasts rise and fall with each breath, staring at you the same way you had been with him earlier. His cock throbs, and he shifts again, trying to alleviate the pressure. 
He swallows hard, his voice still a bit hoarse
“And maybe... maybe you could stay close. Just in case”
“Of course, Eddie. I’m here for you, okay? I’ll be right back!” 
“Okayyy… water… water” You bend down to look through the fridge for Eddie’s metal bottle and huff out a breath. It was starting to get hot, you shifted a little, just to get any kind of relief from the ocean that your panties had turned into and it wasn’t working in the least. 
You grab the bottle and spin on your heel to go back to him and completely collide with the table in front of you. 
“Ow! Fuck that-“ 
You freeze for a second… staring at the rounded edge. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look around slowly, you know there’s not a camera that can reach this corner… and no one’s around.
You set the bottle down gingerly, just… just a little relief. Anything to distract you from the way your body is aching for a release. You look around one more time before you step closer to the table and lean over it a little, the second you feel your pussy come into contact with the hard, smooth surface it’s over. Your eyes roll back as you grind against the table, gasping softly and letting your head fall forward. 
“O-oh my god” You whisper, your body shaking as you grind faster, trying not to make any noise. You pull the collar of your shirt down more, letting the cool air hit your chest as you lean over the table more and roll your hips. 
“Hey? Y/N? I’m sorry I got wo-“
Eddie freezes in his spot and stares at your exposed chest, gulping quietly. His cock twitches at your sweet sun-kissed skin and no tan lines. You look down at him and that’s when you notice how hard he is. It’s straining against his pants and you can see the way he keeps shifting, like he’s trying to put pressure on it. 
You’ve been caught, completely caught and there’s no way around it. Your cheeks burn and no matter what you do, you can’t stop your hips from moving against the table. His eyes lock with yours, you can see the deep primal desires in his blown pupils… and you know you look exactly the same. 
“I think- I think something is wrong,” You say quietly and he blinks slowly. 
“Oh? You think?” 
You don’t even have the time to sass back at him before he’s lunging for you and knocking you both down to the floor. He puts his hand behind your head before it collides with the title beneath you and presses his body down against you. 
“Jesus fucki-“ 
His lips smash into yours and you greedily yank him down closer, moaning as his tongue tangles with yours. His hips grind fast circles into yours and you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him harder against you. 
Damn, are you both glad Bobby runs a tight ship and Buck has just mopped the floors. 
“Let me take you home, please fuck l-let me take you h-home” He begs, biting at your neck and kissing the bruises he leaves. 
“Let’s go” You nod fast, letting your hands run through his hair and tugging it back. He groans frustratedly as he keeps grinding on you, you giggle at the obvious tent in his pants and reach down between you two and tease the tip with your fingers. 
“D-don’t do that!” He slaps at your hand, his head falling against your shoulder as he whimpers into your shoulder. Your mouth drops as you feel the wetness in your hand, his sticky cum between your fingertips. 
“Still think it’s funny?” He takes your hand and smirks as he puts it up to your lips. You wrap your pouty lips around your fingers and suck them clean, groaning quietly as you taste him. He thoroughly enjoys watching you do that, nearly melting again as he ruts his hips into yours. Even though he’d just come, he’s still hard as a rock… and maybe that’s not so much of an issue right now. 
“Come on” 
He pulls you off the floor with him and down the stairs, he’s moving so fast you have to practically jog to keep up with him. He goes to his locker and grabs his wallet and keys before pulling you out to his truck. He lifts your hips practically tossing you into the cab and gets in. 
You pounce on him as soon as he shuts the door and pin him to it, kissing him breathless and tearing open his shirt. The buttons go flying and you stop for a second 
“I’ll get you a new one” 
He snorts and puts his hands on your hips, squeezing them 
“You really think I give a fuck?” 
“I don’t think we’re gonna make it” You pant as you start to pull off your shirt and he smirks.
“I have an idea” He helps you take it off, putting his hands on your tits immediately and squeezing them in his hands, you unhook your bra and grin sweetly when his jaw drops slowly. 
“Your idea?” You purr playfully and he rubs his thumbs over your nipples, watching them pebble 
“Suck my cock while I’m driving,” He says rather bluntly, all of his attention on the dark little nubs in front of him, the carnal urge to suck on them sending jolts of pleasure straight down to his rock-hard cock. 
“I think that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me” You whisper, your eyes wide and your mouth watering. 
“Oh baby” He chuckles darkly “I haven’t even gotten started” 
He starts the truck and you finally unzip his pants, freeing his erection 
“Ho-ly shit” You mutter and Eddie grins, taking your hand and wrapping it around his weeping cock. You stroke it slowly, your fingers not even meeting as you ogle it, his precum dripping down your fingers. 
 You keep stroking, feeling how he responds to your touch, his head lays against the headrest as he starts up the truck, the deep rumble of the engine causes your toes to curl and you gasp a little feeling it deep in your core. 
Oh, something is totally off. 
You look at him, his long neck exposed to you and he looks at you for a second his eyes are half-lidded as he reaches out, cupping the back of your head and pushing you down gently. 
“Open up for me baby” He guides your face to his cock and you eagerly wrap your lips around him, tasting him and rolling your eyes back.
“Fuuuck” He sighs, running his hand over your hair as your tongue traces his cock. He thrusts a little now his toes curling when he hears your little choking noise. 
“Relax your throat” You feel him start to speed up and you’re absolutely sure he’s over the speed limit as his hand traces down your side and moves between your legs. You feel his fingers sink into you slowly and you groan around his cock, moving your hips on his fingers and fucking yourself slowly as you bob your head up and down. 
“I’ve been so selfish, this is probably affecting you just as badly” he pulls you off of him by your hair and smiles deviously at your blissed-out face, pecking your lips. 
“Take off your pants pretty girl, wanna see how wet you are”
You sit up, eagerly sliding your pants down and opening your legs for him. The sensual smell of your arousal fills his lungs as he breathes deeply. He reaches over and strokes your thigh, making a whimpering noise as he looks at the wetness covering your panties completely. He rubs his thumb over the front and you moan sweetly, melting at his touch. 
He keeps one hand on you and the other in a death grip on the wheel, his fingers push your panties to the side, inserting two fingers into your wetness. He pumps them in and out, his thumb rubbing your clit in sync with his fingers.
You melt against the door, and this entire situation definitely isn’t safe but neither of you care as Eddie screeches to a halt in front of his garage. He rips off his seatbelt and gets on his knees, lifting your hips up to his mouth and sucking your clit into his mouth. 
He adds a third finger now, stretching you even more, his tongue never leaving your clit as he spells his name between your legs like he owns you. He wants you to come apart, to lose yourself in the pleasure he's giving you. 
Your back arches off the seat as you fuck yourself against his mouth desperately 
“F-faster, your tongue, please” You gasp out, stuttering over your sentence and he looks up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he bites your clit. You jolt and cry out his name, tugging at his hair before his tongue speeds up. He pulls your hips even closer as you try to get away from him and slaps your thigh. 
“Stay still” He growls and you whimper, closing your legs around his head as your hips roll against his mouth. You can see the way he’s got one knee on the floor so he can grind his cock into the seat. You roll your eyes back and shut them as you cum on his face, spreading your legs wide as his fingers work your body. 
“Eddie! Oh god- fuck yes oh my god” You babble as he keeps sucking at your clit until he’s satisfied that you are. You weakly try to shove his head away and he finally pulls away, kisses your mound, and nuzzling his nose against your sensitive clit 
“Should’ve drowned me” He mumbles, kissing your folds and you rub his hair gently, mussing it up. 
“I’ve never actually done that before” You shrug and he looks up quickly 
“You’ve never what??” 
Your cheeks flush and you shrug, “I mean. It’s just never really happened for me you know? Like sure I’d like to know what it’s like but-“
“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard” He shakes his head as he sits up, both of your bodies are still burning but at least you can think a little now. 
“Oh shut up” You throw his shirt at him and he catches it. You squeak when he grabs your wrist and yanks you to him. 
“I think by now we know what we gotta do,” He says as he starts putting it on you, you look up at him as he puts your arms through and starts to button it back up as best he can 
“Are you okay with that?” He stops, looking into your eyes and you smirk 
“It’s a little late to ask you know”
“Oh teehee” he slaps your thigh and you giggle, putting on your boots. 
“This is all you’re going to get me in” You look at him as he pulls his pants back up and leaves them unbuttoned and grabs his spare tank top from the back, putting that on too. He doesn’t want to give his older neighbors a heart attack. 
“That’s perfectly fine. Makes it easier to take off” 
He gets out of the truck and comes around to your side, opening the door for you. You hop out and take his hand, yanking him down to your height and connecting your lips 
He snickers against your mouth, his hands going to your waist as he guides you backward all the way to the front door, even lifting you up the step so you don’t have to part. Your fingers stay tangled in his luscious locks as he fumbles with the door for a second before it swings open 
As soon as you’re both inside he kicks the door shut and it’s your turn to guide him. You push him down on the sofa and grin as you straddle him and start to yank his clothes off, kissing him passionately as you go 
He falls back onto the sofa, his eyes never leaving yours as you start to strip him. He helps you, pulling off his shirt and pouting when you get up to tug off his pants, revealing his rock-hard cock once again. He can't help but let out a low, needy groan as you finish undressing him. He's eager to get to you, to feel your naked skin against his. 
He reaches for you again, pulling you onto his lap, his hands gripping your ass as he starts to kiss your neck, nibbling and sucking on your skin, leaving hickeys in his wake.
He lifts you up, positioning you over his cock. He looks into your eyes, they mirror the heated desperation in his own as he slowly pushes into you.
He groans as he feels your tight heat enveloping him, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to thrust, this is what he’s been dreaming about all afternoon and you’re just as good as he always knew you would be
His voice is thick with lust as you both moan together deeply “Fuck you feel so damn good” He pants, feeling the primal urge to pound your pussy and you want it just as bad, you put your hands over his as he squeezes your hips tighter. 
“H-harder? Please?” You say it so deliciously sweet, giving him a pretty little pout and wetting your lashes that he can’t help but give you exactly what you want 
Eddie's thrusts grow more aggressive, bouncing you on his cock faster. He can't get enough of the way you feel around him, the way you moan, and the way your body moves against his. He leans back, pulling you down for a deep, hungry kiss as he continues to thrust up into you.
He breaks the kiss, his voice thick with lust
“Fuck, you're so tight. I can't get enough of you”
He reaches up, pinching your nipples as he thrusts, his hips slamming into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust. 
You slap your hands on his chest, curling your nails into it as you let your head fall forward. 
“That’s it baby oh my g-god that’s it” you sob praises, as sweat drips down both your brows. 
His thrusts become more urgent, more desperate as he loses himself in the rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound. 
“I-I’m gonna c-cum, fuck Eddie!”
He reaches his hand down, rubbing your clit in fast circles and you squirt for the first time in your life, your juices splashing over his pelvis and soaking the couch beneath you two.  
He moans loudly, feeling your tight pussy clenching around him as you come. It's enough to send him over the edge. He thrusts one last time, burying himself deep inside you, and lets out a loud groan as he comes, filling you with his hot cum. 
You collapse on his chest, panting heavily and letting your body rest against his. He lets his arms fall to the sides, panting just as harshly. 
“That was fucking amazing” He giddily covers his face with his hands, shaking his head “Jesus Christ that was the best I’ve ever had” 
You giggle, completely agreeing with him as you adjust yourself on his cock, making sure he stays inside you. 
“I can’t believe you seriously made me do that” 
“Was there any doubt I wouldn’t?” He scoffs, bringing his hands up to cup your sweet face 
“And that was just the first time…as soon as we can move we’re going into my bedroom and-“ 
“Oh my god” You stop, remembering just where you are “Oh god Eddie!! Your couch!” 
He blinks and then squeezes your cheeks together. 
“I just made you squirt all over me… and you think I’m worried about my couch?” 
“I can buy you a new one!! I promise I’ll-“
Eddie covers your mouth, smirking when he feels your pussy clench around him lightly. 
“All I want to hear from you is “Yes Daddy” you understand me?” He uncovers your mouth and you gape slightly before nodding slowly 
“Y-yes Daddy.” 
“Good girl. Now, you and I will go couch shopping whenever you’d like” He runs his thumb over your lip  “You will not be paying for it…” 
Before you can even whine in protest his hand comes down on your ass and you yelp. 
“Hey!! That was-“ His fingers wrap around your throat and he sighs 
“And here I thought you could take direction. May I finish my train of thought?” 
He can feel you gulp, which just makes him grin widely, deviously 
“Yes Daddy” you mumble and he gives you a little pat on the cheek 
“Anyway. You can pick any damn couch you want… because if you think for one minute I’m ever letting you out of my sight again and that you’re not officially mine?” He nuzzles your nose 
“I didn’t fuck you nearly as hard as I should have” 
72 notes · View notes
warping-realities · 3 days
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What She Wants
I know I promised the previous one would be the last one for a while but I had a video that I not use in one of the last stories and ended up creating a shorter one just so as not to waste it. I hope you like it.
Cherisse was pissed off. At her old schoolmates and at herself. The five-year reunion was coming up next weekend, and she was gonna have to show up all alone. She never really gave a damn about this kind of stuff, always focused on her career. But then, why the hell did she lie about having a boyfriend? She knew why—those bitches Brenda and Destiny with their pathetic little housewife lives and their useless husbands loved to say that because she was a bodybuilder, no guy would wanna date her. I mean, what kind of dude would go out with a woman bigger than him? That thought made her wanna scream, but those bitches had a point. Even the male bodybuilders ended up choosing curvier, less muscular women, which really pissed her off. The fact that she was so close to becoming a big star in the bodybuilding scene should’ve been enough to ease her doubts, but it wasn’t. In reality, she was so fed up with everything that she dropped her apartment key on the floor of the hallway in the tiny building she lived in, thanks to her job as a Personal Trainer. At least for now, since she had contracts lined up with several big brands by the time she stepped on Olympia stage in a few months, which was what she should’ve been worrying about. Frustrated and angry, she picked up the key from the floor and stood up, only to see David, her neighbor, walking by. The blond thin and extremely cute guy worked at a nearby coffee shop and was always super polite to her, even though any flirting attempts on him had been shot down.
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She knew she couldn’t make him like her or… could she? Remembering the times she got shot down by the guy, combined with the frustration about the upcoming event and the possibility of being ridiculed by her old classmates… all of that lit a fire inside her that made her decide to take action. She’d been warned a bunch of times not to mess with her gift, that it could spiral out of control and come with a high price, but she was tired of being the good girl, tired of being humiliated. It was time to think about herself. She will get what she wanted.
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….
After a long day at the coffee shop, all David wanted was to flop down on the couch in his tiny one-bedroom apartment and chill, and maybe, just maybe, look for a hookup on Grindr. After throwing on a tank top and some shorts, he was about to head out of his room when he heard a noise—there was someone else in the apartment. Creeping up to the door, he was freaked out and jumped.
“Cherisse, what the hell! What are you doing here? What you want?
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“What I want, David? I want my boyfriend!” The muscular black woman replied, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Yeah, I want my boyfriend, David. My boyfriend who loves me and would do anything for me!”
“Cherisse… you’re out of your min…” David started to say, cutting himself off as a weird sensation flooded his body, like he was about to choke, making him gasp for air. Then he was shocked to hear his own voice while his mouth moved on its own.
“But that’s what you already have, babe.”
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“Not enough! I want my boyfriend, bigger, more muscular, and stronger than me.”
The choking feeling hit him again, this time harder, along with a dizzy spell that made David wobble for a second. After a few seconds, he seemed to recover. With his giant biceps and powerful pecs on display, he looked a few inches shorter, with shaved hair and a square face, wich smiled to Cherisse.
“Stronger and more muscular for sure, and two inches taller!”
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“No, I want more! I want my bodybuilder boyfriend, way bigger than me, my boyfriend with beautiful dark hair and a darker skin.”
In an instant, the bodybuilder David underwent a transformation, turning into a caramel-skinned version with brown eyes and well-kept dark hair and beard, maybe of Latin descent.
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“Much better! Take off those shorts and pose for me, David!”
He obeyed, stripping down to just his underwear and flexing his powerful muscles for his girlfriend to see.
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“Yummy, but I still want more.” She commented licking her lips without noticing the change in her voice and vocabulary. “I want my boyfriend with delicious choclate skin as dark as mine. My professional bodybuilder boyfriend, Mr. Olympia material boyfriend. My boyfriend who fulfills all my needs and will accompany me to my school reunion, and make all the jealous bitches shut up they skunk mouths. Now come, come to me, my love,” she said, as the uncontrolled power took over completely.
As the muscular giant, who minutes ago had been a gay dude just looking for a casual hookup, walked from the bedroom door towards her, with each step he took, he grew larger while his skin darkened to a chocolate tone. His pecs looked like two slabs of meat, his abs lost some definition, but his arms swelled to the size of tree trunks. As sweat dripped down his body, his black wavy hair transformed into small curls in a stylish cut with shaved sides, while his underwear turned into gym shorts, and the tiny apartment room morphed into a spacious mansion living room.
While all this was happening and the power dominated Cherisse’s mind, she didn’t notice that her short hair, which had fallen out due to steroid use started to grow back in beautifull well manteined curls while her voice gained an airy melodious tone. As the former David grew bigger, she shrank, her powerful muscles becoming smaller but defined, while her glutes became curvier and her breasts softer. Then, as the monstrous off-season bodybuilder stood smiling in front of her, her clothes evaporated, leaving her in a tiny bikini that showcased all her perfect curves. Finnaly the whirlwind of power seemed to reach its peak before fading away forever while the reality reset.
The smile on the behemoth's face quickly vanished when he noticed his girlfriend posing in the middle of their living room.
“Can I ask what the hell you’re doing, Cherisse?”
“Babe… I… I thought you’d be back later.”
“I decided to surprise my girlfriend, and guess who’s getting surprised? Don’t tell me you’re back to that ridiculous idea of competing in Bikini Fitness. I’ve already been clear with you about that. You don’t need to work, especially not by exposing your body; I’m the one who takes care of all my wife’s needs.”
“Wife? What do you mean?”
“Well, that was the surprise I was gonna pull on you, but it looks like…”
“Stop being silly, I was rehearsing, yeah, but it was just for you, my love.”
“Now you’re talking like my future wife,” he replied, with his smile returning.
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….
That weekend, Cherisse was bursting with joy. As her boyfriend parked the car, she rushed over to meet her old school friends, Brenda and Destiny, in the garden of the beautiful restaurant they class picked for the high school reunion. After some kisses, hugs, and excited squeals, Brenda looked at her curiously.
“Is that on your finger what I think it is?”
“Yup!!! He proposed to me!!”
“So, we’re finally gonna meet your boyfriend… sorry, your fiancé?”
“Yeah, look over there,” Cherisse said, making her friends look at the handsome specimen of a man strutting confidently towards them—300 pounds of pure muscle covered in a beutifull chocolate skin, wearing a light gray suit with a vest and a shirt whose last buttons could never stay closed, showing off a gorgeous chest. All of this was topped off by a rugged face that could make knees weak.
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“Girls, this is Deshaun, my fiancé,” she said, knowing the others would be dying of envy.
Later, as her friends walked in, Deshaun pulled her close.
“Are you happy, my love? I know how important this reunion was for you.”
“Happy? I’m totally fucking ecstatic, babe. I showed those bitches who’s the best. I’ve got the best house, the best body, and the best man. What more could I want?”
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kaliforniahigh · 2 days
Text
Request: "Matt Dierkes x wife reader smutty one shot where they get caught on the tour bus or other random places?" Thank you so much for the request!
Warnings: cursing and a steamy make out session but no actual smut (they get caught before the act)
WC: 1.6k (not proofread yet!)
Requests are closed for now.
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You loved going on tour with Matt, specially since you worked together. You were a lighting engineer for the band and you met Matt when you started working for the band a couple of years back.
The attraction was instant between you and everyone could notice. The way he never got mad at you - quite the contrary, the boy always seemed to have an extra soft spot for you - and the way you always worried if he was well - tour could be pretty hectic and take a toll on your health - were a dead giveaway that something was blossoming between you.
Despite everyone rooting for you to get together, there were the people who warned you about working with your partner. They told you that it never worked, and that you would fight all the time.
But you always told them that if it ever came to it, you and Matt could separate your professional lives from your personal ones, because you were adults, after all.
Now, a couple of years later, you and Matt not only established a relationship, but you also decided to get married not too long ago. Most days it didn't even feel like working with your husband, because you just went about your routines as per usual.
It was rare that Matt got angry with anyone really, he was pretty chill overall and used to dealing with things going wrong, so you felt like nothing really affected him anymore.
Today, though, was one of those days where everything seemed to be going wrong. First, the tour bus broke down on the road because of the cold, which made you guys late for the concert. Then, some of the sound equipment decided not to work and the panels were off and no one could figure out how to get those damn things working.
You could hear the fans outside waiting to come in and the stress of being late already and not having things ready were weighing on his shoulders. You could hear him in the distance him talking on the phone with the venue manager. Something about how the hell was he not here to help with the technical difficulties that most likely were being caused by his shitty venue.
You left him to it, and since your lighting equipment was already set up - thank god this one thing worked out tonight - you went to help the other guys. Everything seemed to plugged in in the right places and still, nothing was working. Even Noah, Jolly and the Nicks were helping at this point.
"Guys", Matt approached you all with a sigh. "The venue manager told me everything was working accordingly just a couple of days go, which is obviously bullshit", he rubbed his forehead, a clear sign of stress. You wanted to smooth out the creases yourself, but refrained from it.
"How are we gonna perform without our equipment?", Jolly asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.
"That's the thing, I don't think we will", Matt answered. Every band's fear was becoming a reality right before your eyes.
"Are we gonna have to cancel?", Noah voiced what everyone was thinking. Matt only nodded. "What about the fans waiting outside?"
"I'm really sorry, this is really not what I wanted to do, trust me. We could try and find another venue, but we gotta be in another city tomorrow. We might have to reimburse the people who paid for tickets for today", you could tell he was disappointed in having to do this. Matt was a problem solver kind of person, and having to deal with a problem he couldn't solve was killing him.
After a little more debate, everyone agreed that canceling was the best thing to do due to the circumstances. Noah and the guys went back to the green room talking about how they're gonna sue the venue manager.
"I'm gonna go out there and tell those people that the band they love is not performing tonight. You guys can start loading the things back in the bus", he started to turn around, but you went after him.
"Hey", you called out and he looked at you. "I'll go with you. You don't have to do this alone", you took your hand in his.
"You don't have to do this, baby. I'm used to it, it's part of the job anyways", he reassured you, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.
"I know that you can handle yourself. But I wanna go with regardless", he only nodded, knowing it was useless arguing with you, and you followed him outside.
The annoucement was met with complaints, angry remarks and a few crying faces. Matt knew this wasn't directed at him, but it broke his heart regardless. All these people with the hopes of having an unforgettable night would have to go back to their homes without watching Bad Omens perform.
He said sorry one more time and rushed back inside the venue. You said sorry yourself and followed him. You looked around you and saw that your lighting equipment was already being loaded back in the boxes and decided to check were Matt headed to.
You asked around and a few people told you they saw him going in the direction of the bathrooms. You made your way down the hall and knocked on the men's restoroom door, hearing him answer with a "yeah" on the other side of the door. He was probably wondering who the hell was bothering him when he was in the bathroom.
"You alone in there?" you asked him. Recognizing it was you, he opened the door and you made your way inside, closing it again behind you.
"You just ran off, I got worried about you", you told him as you took his face in your hands.
"I got so angry when I saw all those people out there, just waiting", he huffed in frustration.
"I know, baby. But this isn't your fault, and it probably won't be the last time you'll have to cancel", you tried to reason with him.
"I know, I'm just so fucking mad at that fucking venue manager who told me 'everything is working perfectly, are you sure it's not your equipment that's low quality?'", he used air quotes to tell you what the venue manager has the nerve to tell him. "He obviously ripped us off because he wasn't even here, he knows his venue is fucking shit", he spat, in anger. You waited a few seconds to say anything, just in case he needed to vent some more. But he just took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
"I'm sorry, you don't deserve to hear all this", he apologized, resting his hands on your hips. You let a little smile grace your lips. You knew how to make him feel better.
"It's kind of hot when you get all angry like this", you said with a low voice and a hint of playfulness. He finally cracked and smirked a little at your remark.
"Yeah? You like it, babe?", you nodded and pressed yourself closer to him. "You know, you're my silver lining in all of this, right?", he said, lips inches away from yours, eyes travelling between your eyes and lips.
"I think I don't. Will need you to show me", you teased him and in a few seconds, his lips crashed on yours, pushing you backwards with the force, your back hitting the marble countertop behind you.
The kiss was fervent, an indicator of his mood and how this bathroom rendezvous was gonna go. You both moaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as he hoisted you up on the counter.
His hands traveled up your torso under your shirt and you lifted your arms for him to take it off, you skin prickling with goosebumps from the cold air.
His mouth immediatly moved to kiss your shoulders and down the valley of your brests.
"Fuck, you're everything I need right now", he hummed into your skin and you only moaned in acknowledgment.
"Take your shirt off, please", you said, voice sounding a little breathless, and he moved away from your body to peel off the layer of clothing.
"C'mere", he helped you down from the counter and turned you around, pushing your head down and making you bend your back, ass up in the air.
He kissed your spine and ran his hand over the fat of your ass, delivering a spank that made you yelp in surprise. His clothed crotch was pressed into you, and you could feel how hard he was under his pants.
He was about to yank your pants down your legs when the door swung open, both of you whipping your heads to the side, only to meet the shocked expression on Ruffilo's face.
You were still bend over the counter when you heard Matt tell him to 'get the fuck out', and Nick muttered a few apologies before closing the door behind him.
You looked at Matt through the mirror in front of you and you both started to giggle at the situation. Eventually, you stood up straight and turned around to face him. It was like Nick's entrance popped your little bubble entirely.
"Probably not the best idea to fuck in the bathroom, huh?" you asked in a teasing tone.
"That's you pushing me to make bad decisions", he smiled and gave you a peck on the lips. "As much as I loved our little almost escapade, we should probably get back out there", he stated, in a little disappointed tone.
You agreed with him and you both made your way out of the bathroom.
"We'll stay at a hotel room in the next city and then I'll make sure to bend you over the counter and fuck you good", he whispered in your ear, making you stop in your tracks, mouth agape.
He kept walking and laughed at the state he just left you.
54 notes · View notes
urdreamydoodles · 3 days
Text
Wolverine x Fem!Reader
Logan rivalry with your dog
Logan, Wolverine, finds himself in a awkward rivalry with your small, not-so-bright dog, Mr. Pickles, as he navigates life with you as his partner. Despite his gruff exterior, Logan gradually warms up to the tiny, fluffy companion who insists on treating him like a personal dog bed.
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You’ve always thought Logan was good with animals. After all, he’s got that whole rugged, nature-loving thing going on—man of the wild, protector of the weak, and all that. He’s lived out in the woods, fought alongside beasts, and generally been one with the earth in ways you couldn’t dream of.
But when it comes to your dog, it’s a whole different story.
“Come here, Mr. Pickles,” you call sweetly from the kitchen, trying not to laugh as Logan grumbles under his breath in the living room.
The small, fluffy dog at Logan’s feet—Mr. Pickles, a name he clearly detests but you adore—looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Logan glares back down at him, as if the tiny creature is his mortal enemy. For a moment, there’s a standoff, and then Mr. Pickles’ tiny tail wags, excited for no reason at all, as if he’s just been praised for something.
“I swear, Y/N, this dog’s got the IQ of a rock,” Logan mutters, standing up from the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. “How the hell did we end up with him?”
You chuckle as you watch the scene unfold. Logan, the Wolverine, the man who’s taken down enemies three times his size, looks like he’s being outwitted by a ten-pound ball of fluff.
“You ended up with him because I love him,” you say with a teasing smile, walking over and scooping Mr. Pickles into your arms. The dog instantly cuddles against your chest, as if he’s already forgotten his little staring contest with Logan. “And because he’s adorable.”
“He’s ridiculous,” Logan counters, his gruff voice barely concealing the amusement in his eyes. “And that name…”
“What’s wrong with Mr. Pickles?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I think it suits him.”
Logan snorts. “Suits him, alright. Little guy’s about as bright as a jar of pickles.”
You bite back a laugh, petting the soft fur on Mr. Pickles’ head. The dog wags his tail happily, oblivious to Logan’s jab. “He’s smart in his own way,” you defend, though even you know that Mr. Pickles isn’t exactly a genius. He’s gotten stuck under the coffee table more times than you can count, and just last week, you found him barking at his own reflection in the sliding glass door.
Still, he’s your little companion, and you adore him. And Logan? Well, he may grumble and complain, but you’ve caught him sneaking Mr. Pickles scraps from the dinner table more than once.
“You should get used to it,” you tease, setting Mr. Pickles down on the floor. The tiny dog immediately trots off, distracted by who knows what. “He’s part of the family now.”
Logan huffs, sinking back onto the couch with a groan. “I don’t know how you convinced me to get a dog in the first place.”
You roll your eyes, moving to sit next to him. “Oh, come on. He’s not so bad. Plus, I think deep down, you actually like him.”
Logan gives you a sidelong glance, his expression skeptical. “Like him? The damn thing chews up my boots every time I turn around.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to impress you,” you say, biting back a grin. “He probably sees you as competition.”
“Competition?” Logan shakes his head in disbelief. “He’s a dog.”
“A very small, not-very-smart dog,” you add with a laugh, leaning against Logan’s side. “But still. I think he’s jealous.”
Logan grumbles something under his breath, but there’s no real bite to it. You know he doesn’t hate Mr. Pickles, not really. In fact, you’d bet good money that Logan’s secretly gotten attached to the little fluff ball. He just won’t admit it.
“You think I’m jealous of that mutt?” Logan asks, his voice low and playful as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.
You shrug, leaning into him with a smile. “I don’t know, are you?”
Logan’s lips twitch into a smirk. “Not a chance.”
Just then, Mr. Pickles reappears, trotting over to the couch with his usual clueless excitement. He jumps up, his tiny paws landing on Logan’s leg as he tries to scramble up into his lap.
Logan freezes, glaring down at the dog like he’s considering his options. He could easily shove Mr. Pickles off, but instead, he just stares at him, brow furrowed.
“What do you want, furball?” Logan mutters.
Mr. Pickles, as always, wags his tail in response, clearly mistaking Logan’s gruff tone for an invitation. With an enthusiastic yip, he finally manages to climb up and curl into Logan’s lap, settling in as if he belongs there.
Logan sighs heavily, looking down at the tiny, fluffy creature now snuggled up against him. “You gotta be kidding me.”
You laugh softly, watching as Logan awkwardly shifts, trying to adjust to the fact that Mr. Pickles has decided he’s found a new favorite spot. “Looks like he’s getting comfortable.”
“I ain’t a damn dog bed,” Logan grumbles, though he doesn’t make any move to push Mr. Pickles off.
You can’t help but grin. The sight of Logan—gruff, tough-as-nails Logan—sitting there with a tiny, fluffy dog curled up in his lap is probably the most amusing thing you’ve ever seen.
“You know,” you say, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I think he likes you.”
Logan looks down at the dog, who’s now fast asleep, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s probably the only creature in the world who can get away with using Wolverine as a pillow.
“Yeah, well,” Logan mutters, his voice softening just a fraction, “I guess he ain’t so bad.”
You smile, knowing that’s as close as Logan will get to admitting he’s grown fond of the little dog. Mr. Pickles might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s managed to worm his way into your hearts, even Logan’s.
And honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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icarusredwings · 17 hours
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Thinking about Logan trying to comfort Kurt's guilt.
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It's a full moon. For the others, it's a pretty normal night. This isn't to say that they don't give it a second thought, or a tenth, but Kurt takes it upon himslef to find out the names of every single person that dosn't make it during their missions.
While most, Like Logan, would rather forget, Kurt had another job to do. It's his duty to make sure these lost and scared souls find heaven.
Walking up to the nearest church, Logan grunts, already halfway through his bottle since they've returned. He hears whispering. Small prayers that he's heard all before whether when muttered on the field or heard through the walls, his rosery intertwined between his 6 fingers, gripping it as if someone would rip it from him.
"I thought you'd be here.." he mutters.
Kurt doesn't answer him. But there he is, on his knees in front of a statue of Mary, tears soaking the fur on his face, hands together. The way the moonlight is coming in, it hits him in a way that makes him look ethereal. Like a blessing from above from the man himself. If only Logan believed in that kind of thing.
It was so ironic that someone so innocent, pure, and beautiful actively visited hell. Perhaps this was why. For he's seen what goes on and has chosen that he's seen enough.
Letting out a big sigh, He comes to crouch next to him, taking a swig of his bottle as he picks up the list. He wants to crumble it up or perhaps shred it, the handwritten swoopy german being nothing but a reminder of how much he failed too. Hero's weren't supposed to let people get hurt. Especially not almost a dozen.. 11 lives ruined. 11 loved ones ripped from their families grasp. And all because they weren't good enough.
Finishing his whispers, he goes to grab the page but Logan had already picked it up. Kurt looks at him with those big black hole eyes of his, almost begging him not to ruin his list, but he dosn't grab for it. He lets his friend look over it only to shove his head back again, drinking for a few seconds think.
"...Emily Stripe..." He read, shifting to actually sit his ass on the concrete step, grunting as he let his arms hang over his knees. "Jessica Stripe...Are they sisters?" He asks the praying man, begging for forgiveness and to help serve these innocent souls towards the stairs and the gates.
More tears fall down his face each couple of words. In the end, he bows his head and doesn't bother looking at him, his eyes glistening in the light. "They were..."
Logan offers him the bottle, and without hesitation, he takes it, starting to chug a quarter of it. "Woah woah! Elfs can't handle that much, ya'know!" He says, and Kurt mumbles something along the lines that he's German, alchool is in his viens from birth.
Taking the bottle back, He shakes it around, Giving a playful glare now it was almost gone. Putting it to the side, he wraps an arm over his shoulder, Kurt's tail wrapping around his waist as well. For a bit, they were just two guys, silently mourning the casualties of what it was like to have constant city villans at hand.
"...It ain't your fault, Fuzzball... or should I say buzzball. You okay there, Mr. Blue?"
"I.....I was so sure I could have saved them.."
"Not your fault, Bub."
"..But what if it is..? If I was just.. a bit better.. I could have saved them."
"Yeah... well, if it's your fault, it's mine too."
Kurt lays his head on his shoulder, wiping his face on his arm. Logan doesn't actually mind, but he knows he wants to play. "Augh! Did you just wipe snot on me!?"
Kurt smiles softly and says something Logan doesn't recognize.
It could be a million things, but deep down, he has a feeling of what it might be.
"Yeah, yeah.. whatever." Pulling him close he headlocks him to his chest and rubs his fist over his head, making Kurt whine and squirm. "Ah! Nein!"
"That's what you get for rubbing snot all over me!"
He scoffs, saying something else, but Logan only catches the end of it.
"Du bist vild, mein freund"
He remembered another scrawny german who said the same. Swallowing, he lets go, letting him lay against him.
"...You really shouldn't be smoking in here." He muttered after some time of them sitting, taking this time to make sure that the people on this list were not fotgotten.
Logan smirks, blowing some smoke into his face as he coughs drimatically and waves his hands infront of his face with a smile.
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spookysshadow · 1 day
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Hatake nibbles.
Just sometimes they get so overwhelmed with happiness or love that they just have to bite the person.
It's not something they do in public, really only amongst those they deem pack. And even then, not all pack is treated to it.
The Senju matriarch nibbles at her little boys fingers and toes when their little pups, and playfully growls at them when they begin to toddle before snapping her jaw shut and making her boys laugh loudly.
Butsuma doesn't understand but then again, he doesn't get bitten either. At least until Tobi shows up.
Hashirama, the least Hatake according to the matriarch's own mother, playfully bites and nibbles at her hands and arms, her legs, full of love and unashamed. Though as the years go by he does it less and less. Sometimes though, when he sees his remaining little brother, he can't help but turn and bite his arm. Or if a hand is on the table, he'll sneak a nibble too. His little brother will huff, but he never stops him from doing it.
Tobirama also grows up nibbling and biting. A little too much even. Anyone he deemed friend/family - even the wolf summons, he'll climb onto and try nibbling at their ears. Not even Butsuma escapes his reign of teething terror - having to go to war meetings with a toddler strapped to his side, teeth nibbling his upper arms.
He also grows out of that all around, all encompassing affection and focuses on the few important ones that remain - a quick nib at his brother's shoulder before they go into battle, a playfully bite on Touka's hand when she tries to reach for something in front of him, so on.
This carries on - lets pretend Izuna lives, village is built and somehow standing in it's own and he's hella confused why one day, when he and Tobirama get assigned on a mission he tells the Senju bastard good luck and the guy just. bites him. Just pivots his head and chomps on his shoulder, before straightening up like something shot up his spine and muttered a quick "you too" before taking off.
Here he thought he and the guy were getting along, but he guesses not. Especially cause after that mission Tobirama won't even be in the same room as him. As always he goes to his brother for guidance in these trying times.
Hikaku: he bit you?
Izuna: Yeah, can you believe that? What the fuck!
Madara: Ah, Hashirama bit me a few times when we were kids. He said it's how his family showed each other they like them.
Hikaku: he likes you??
Izuna: Do I have to bite him back now?
He doesn't. Not at first, but after having to run around the village to get the man to sign a document because he is still avoiding him. he gives up. Just chomps on the arm that's right in front of him and then sits back in his seat like he didn't do that most insane thing in the middle of a council meeting.
Tobirama blinks before nodding and continuing with his report, seemingly back to normal now that his weird affection has been returned. Hashirama, inspired by his little brother, turns to Madara and also tries to chomp.
Now that the cat is out of the bag, Izuna is forced to be nibbled by a surprisingly affectionate Tobirama, while watching his older brother dodge the chomping affections of his friend. C'est la vie.
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nthspecialll · 8 hours
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One thing that stands out to me about John compared to Arthur, is how pragmatic he is in 1911. He is very sensible, very disconnected with emotions and deals with things logically without too much fuss.
John's goal, whatever he set it to be, is John's first priority, he will get it no matter what, no matter the cost, no matter the lives, he doesn't care if he needs to slaughter groups of people to get it. Prime example is the gattling gun in rdr1, kills a big amount of people for said gattling gun and when it isn't there he doesn't feel bad about the bodies surrounding him but just goes "it isn't here, that lying sack of shit." He was more annoyed about the waste of time than about the waste of life.
Similarly the blunterbuss in undead: "I risked my life for this? A blunterbuss? What is this 1850?"
I think that is also what makes John's redemption so interesting because it is just an act. It isn't about him actually becoming a better person because he certianly isn't becoming one by killing all these people, it is more a trade with the Pinkertons. "I killed your people now I will kill my people and a bunch of random criminals and then we good."
At the same time he is also trying to convince the Pinkertons that "Oh, I am a good guy now because I killed people you don't like," he isn't a better guy, it is a play he is playing trying to convince them that he is so that they will leave him alone.
He doesn't care who he kills, he doesn't care why, he just wants to get to the end goal, whatever it takes.
Another thing is the death of Old Boy when John didn't even glance at him. He would rather awkwardly stand and wait while Arthur said his goodbye to his horse than say goodbye to his own horse.
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chimcess · 2 days
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Nachash || jhs (Prologue)
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Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Doctor!Reader, Smut, One night stand, Angst, Horror AU, Incubus! Hoseok, 90s AU, Yandere!AU (that's putting it lightly) Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count:  6.6k+ Summary: After losing both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell her home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place she barely remembers despite having lived in Harlem for a decade. Her reality begins to blur as she loses track of dreams and waking life. At the center of this confusion is Hoseok, a sweet man who gives her an eerie sense of déjà vu. She can't shake the feeling that Hoseok isn't who he claims to be, and she's haunted by a strange bar that keeps appearing in her nightmares. Warnings: Wet dreams, explicit sexual contact in those dreams, graphic violence, hard dom Hoseok, demon Hobi acting like the horrible creature he is, emotional manipulation, DEATH, alcohol consumption, sexual harassment (brief), dream manipulation, stalking, vampire mind control, asshole Hobi (seriously), morally grey Taehyung, morally grey vampires in general, vampire bar, use of pagers because this is the early 90s (I have pager code translations at the bottom of the page), lots of cursing, vaginal fingering, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, sadistic Hoseok, death by sex in her dreams, did I mention how horrible of a person this Hobi is?, mans is an obsessive stalker, and this is just the prologue because Tumblr's new rules are weird and don't make sense, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I've had to split this into two seperate parts since Tumblr does not allow posts over a certain line count anymore (boo!), so I'm giving you guys the beginning section first! This entire story will be based in the 90s and will have a lot of pretty dark elements attachted to it. I really wanted to force myself to write a character that is so out of my wheelhouse it made me uncomfortable-- and that's exactly who incubus Hoseok is in this one. Happy Halloween everyone!
Next Part to be released 10/31 || Released early on AO3: here
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August 1992
My bones cracked, the sound echoing through the sterile silence, and I struggled to catch my breath. A thin layer of sweat clung to my skin, and I patted myself down to make sure I was still awake, still alive. Slowly, the panic subsided as I took in my surroundings. The bright fluorescent lights above made my eyes ache, but their harsh glow was a strange comfort. I was still in the hospital. The bed beneath me creaked as I sighed and flopped back down.
The nightmares had been haunting me for a while now. I couldn’t pinpoint when the first one came, but it had been two months since they turned sexual. The worst ones hit during my 24-hour shifts, as if my mind was playing some twisted game. There was always a man—always the same man—with golden eyes that glowed in the darkness. His skin was soft, supple, and disturbingly perfect.
Even when I closed my eyes, his perfect face flashed in the darkness behind my eyelids. It always ended the same way. I would climax, my body thrashing violently, only to look up and see his skin peeling away, ashes raining down, with fire slipping through the cracks. My own body would begin to burn, and I’d scream in horror as his once-perfect face revealed a skull with flames and black smoke oozing out. I would wake up just as his skeletal hand reached for my throat. The scenario changed, but the ending never did.
Sighing, I fumbled around for my phone. When I found it under my pillow, alongside my watch, I realized that I was due back in twenty minutes. I groaned. There was no going back to sleep now. I carefully climbed off my bunk, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Dr. Boseman was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of my nightly torment. She still had another hour before she had to return to the floor. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror. The ER was filled with messy doctors, and I would be no exception. Slipping my shoes back on and shrugging on my white coat, I quickly put on my lanyard and left the little room.
It had been a relatively slow night. We all knew better than to say the dreaded “Q” word, but that didn’t mean we weren’t aware of the unusual silence. The most excitement we had was a car accident victim, and he would survive. My attending physician, Dr. Kepler, was at the nurse’s station laughing with some of the nurses.
“Morning, Doc,” came Shannon’s voice, the night custodian.
“Hey, Shan, how are you?” I smiled at the elderly woman.
“I’m fine. About to clean some bathrooms.”
“Good luck with that,” I waved, knowing the small talk was over.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need it.”
Dr. Kepler smiled when I was close enough to talk. He was a handsome man with broad shoulders and pearly white teeth. I knew better, though. He had a bad habit of cheating on his wife with residents. He had never shown any interest in me, most likely because I never treated him differently. Some of the girls were too friendly with him and lost their professionalism, and he took advantage of that. As much as he disgusted me, I had to admit he was one hell of a doctor.
“Dr. L/N,” he greeted.
“Evening, Dr. Kepler,” I replied. “How’s it going, Angie?”
The tech beamed at me. She had started working at the hospital around the same time I had begun my residency, and we made fast friends. On quiet days like this, the two of us would sit at the desk and shoot the shit. She gave me a little wink.
“Oh, you know, paperwork and stuff,” she replied.
“One of those days?”
“When isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes.
“I feel your pain,” Kepler forced his way into our conversation. He was dreadfully boring, so I chose to ignore him whenever this happened. Typically, he would realize no one was paying attention to him and leave. “I had to help out in L&D tonight, and let me tell you, I am glad I did not go that route. Couldn’t imagine having to deal with hysterical females all day.”
I grimaced. He was such a pig. Angie rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut. If she spoke up, he would never leave. A few nurses gave half-hearted replies, and I caught the eyes of Issic, one of the nurse practitioners who helped out in the emergency room. Normally so well-behaved and soft-spoken, the large, teddy-bear-like man glowered at the doctor. If looks could kill, I could not say Dr. Kepler would be dead, but I had to admit he would be majorly hurt. Still, no one called him out on the gross comments. We never did.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Dr. Kepler bid us goodbye, his rant about how stupid specialties other than cardiology are.
Angie twisted her nose in disgust once his back was turned. She disliked him more than I did. He made obvious advances toward her, something that made her and everyone else at the station uncomfortable, but there was not much we could do. I told her to report him for sexual harassment, but she never did. Nor did anybody else. I had never noticed how little we stood up for ourselves before.
“Glad he’s gone,” Mariah, an RN, commented.
“Creep,” another tech said.
“Anyway,” Angie did not acknowledge them. “I’m going out for drinks with some of the other nurses. You want to come?”
“Where at?” I checked my watch. I would have to begin my pre-rounds soon.
“This new bar Dauphine. Selene went a few weeks back with some friends of hers.”
“I’m not in the club scene,” I reminded her.
I knew Selene, not well, but I did know her. We met at Angie’s Christmas party last year along with a few of her other friends. I had left early but not before Selene had started to bump and grind with anyone she could get her hands on. This included Jeon Jungkook, the local wack-job-false-prophet-wannabe-fortuneteller and my cousin’s boyfriend. The two ended up having sex in the back of his Impala where said cousin found them in the middle of the act. Jungkook said it was his “destiny.” Selene simply laughed and was right back on his lap. I did not care much for her after that.
“There are only certain rooms like that. The main area is like a lounge. She said it was chill until they went dancing.”
I hummed. It had been a while since I had gone out. Maybe it would be a nice distraction, especially with the weird dreams I’d been having.
“When?” Angie smiled wide. She knew she had won me over.
“Thursday. I made sure to get a day you weren’t on call.”
And then my watch began beeping, signaling my return to work. Angie pouted her bottom lip out and batted her eyelashes. I smiled and shook my head.
“Duty calls,” I turned around and began walking away. “See you Thursday,” I called behind me.
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“Fuck,” I sighed, throwing my head back.
“You’re so wet,” the man groaned, releasing my clit.
I squirmed underneath him, legs shaking, and breathing erratic. The man chuckled darkly, sticking a third finger in. I cried out once more.
“You’re such a fucking slut,” he rasped before slapping my right breast.
I screamed, the pain and pleasure mixing so many times tonight that I could no longer discern the two. He slapped the other side. Tears fell from my eyes.
“I’m going to take my time with you,” his voice felt further away than it had before.
His fingers were gone, and I whined. I hardly recognized the person I had become. Never had I begged for a man’s touch or wanted rough sex. I knew he could do anything to me, and I would not complain. I knew that he knew that as well. I also knew that he loved it. A sharp, painful slap was delivered to my already aching pussy. Another scream.
“And when I’m done,” slap, “I’m going to devour you.”
And I came undone for the third time.
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I adjusted my dress again, feeling its snugness a little too keenly. It had been ages since I’d gone out, and Angie’s insistence on looking “sexy” felt like a cruel joke. Most of my wardrobe consisted of scrubs and old college hoodies, so my little black dress, tucked away in the back of my closet, had to do. Back when I was nineteen, it had fit like a glove. Now, it clung to my newer curves, which weren’t so new anymore. Should I change?
Groaning, I fell back on my bed. What am I doing? If Angie were here, she’d tell me to stop acting like “such a virgin” and laugh. She always laughed hardest at her own jokes. According to her, being with less than three guys by age twenty-three was unheard of. The fact that I was pushing thirty and had only been with two was some sort of medical anomaly to her. The virgin jokes had been annoying at first, but I’d learned that was just Angie’s sense of humor. Childish, yes, but she was likable enough to forgive it.
I sat up and looked at myself in the mirror again. The dress looked good, better than I expected. So why the apprehension? Struggling to pinpoint the source of my anxiety, I finally gave up. I threw on a leather jacket and started putting on the finishing touches to my look. I was meeting everyone at the club since Angie lived on the other side of town. She had kindly offered to pay for my cab. After texting her that I was ready, I slipped on a pair of black boots and stepped outside to wait for my ride.
The night was cold, unusually so for August, even for New York. Adjusting to the climate had been tough. Originally from Jersey, my family had moved to Florida when I was a child. I’d gone to Tulane for undergrad and then moved to New York for med school. After graduating from Columbia two years ago, I started my residency at Harlem Hospital Center. I was planning to stay for my ICU fellowship.
A gust of wind ruffled my clothes, and for a moment, I swore I felt phantom hands caress my hips. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine. My mind was still on edge from the nightmares. Last night’s had been particularly vivid: horns had sprouted from his head before he ripped a chunk of my breast out with his teeth, blood dripping onto my sheets as my screams echoed off the walls.
My phone rang, its sharp tone startling me. Angela had pressured me into getting a cellphone a few months ago, and I was still getting used to the intrusion. Handy at times, sure, but mostly an annoyance. The bulky Nokia was far too cumbersome.
“You in the car yet? The driver’s name is Jimin.”
As she said it, a pair of headlights turned the corner, and the car slowed down.
“About to get in now,” I said, eager to hang up. The assumption that I was wealthy because I had a cellphone always embarrassed me.
“God, I’m so excited to see you!” Angie squealed, the sounds of the club already drowning her out. I regretted agreeing to come out. “The password is Conti. Whatever that means.”
I smiled. “It’s a street name in New Orleans.”
The car pulled up to the curb, and I quickly opened the door. 
“I’m about to get in the cab,” I said, buckling up. “I’ll see you in a bit, Ang.”
“Page me when you get here!”
The ride was quiet. The driver greeted me, asked for my name, then lapsed into silence. Soft R&B played in the background. To distract myself, I sent a quick message to my mom and listened to the driver quietly singing along. He had a nice voice. Just as we pulled up, TLC came on, and I felt a pang of disappointment that I wouldn’t get to hear him sing along. I thanked him before getting out. Jimin drove off seconds after I closed the door with a polite ‘goodnight.’
The alleyway leading to the club was less intimidating than I’d expected. Angie’s description of a long, red-lit path had conjured far worse images in my mind. The lights were bright enough to see by, and the walk was short. Voices drifted from outside the club, easing some of my tension. Maybe the rumors were just that—rumors.
Dauphine had a reputation for attracting the town’s freaks. Drugs, alcohol, sex parties that ended in blood-splattered walls, and people who went in but never came out. The rumors spiraled out of control after Namjoon Kim was found dead outside. Typical media frenzy—no one cared when ten prostitutes went missing, but a rich CEO gets shot, and it’s front-page news. I rolled my eyes. Some things never change.
A group of friends stopped talking as I approached, and apprehension churned in my gut. Bile rose in my throat, but I forced it down. I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. Their presence was enough to leave me shaking. One of them snickered, and I shivered. Without even glancing at them, I knew they’d be terrifying. The bouncer opened the peephole in the door.
“Conti,” I said, my voice harsh.
The door opened seconds later, and I practically ran inside, shoving past the bouncer without much care. He didn’t seem to mind my rudeness. Without their eyes on me, I could finally breathe. I paged Angie to let her know I was here.
Angela: 110 307
Angela: 209
Y/N: 08
I shoved my pager back into my bag and started navigating the maze of the bar. The nurse had been right; it was more subdued than I had imagined. Red and black dominated the color scheme, with large sofas and booths scattered about. Neon signs pointed to the restrooms, and the place was pleasantly devoid of orgies or bloodbaths. I felt a wave of relief—no strobe lights, no thrumming dance floors. 
A few minutes later, I found the bar. Only one man was seated there, engaged in a tender conversation with the bartender. She caressed his cheek, and I melted at the sight. It was heartwarming to see such affection in a place rumored to be so dangerous. I doubted many would be comfortable with their partner working in a place as infamous as this.
Respecting their privacy, I took a seat a few stools away and picked up a small drink menu. Angie was nowhere in sight. I stifled a laugh; the menu was a mix of classic cocktails and blood types listed underneath each one. For a place as notorious as this, I hadn't expected it to be a vampire-themed bar. I was already excited to see the dance floor. Themed bars in New Orleans had always been a blast during my Tulane days.
"Good evening," the bartender's voice was silky smooth.
I smiled. "Hi."
"What can I get for you?"
Suppressing a grin, I said, "I'll have a dirty martini. Shot of O negative."
The chuckle slipped out before I could stop it. The bartender smirked, her skin glistening under the red lights. The man at the other end of the bar looked at me, his eyes wide, before bursting into loud laughter. Eyes turned towards us, the sensation making my skin crawl, but I stayed composed. The bartender leaned in closer.
"Are you okay with cherry liqueur?"
I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
She laughed. "Then you don't want that shot, babe."
I nodded, glancing at my nails. Where was Angie? Rolling my eyes, I groaned. She’d probably run into some guy and forgotten about me. I straightened up, trying to see over the tall booths scattered about. No sign of her blonde head anywhere. With a sigh, I gave up. She’d show up eventually.
"Looking for someone?" The bartender slid my drink over.
"Oh," I clutched my chest, startled. "Just a friend of mine. She got here earlier but I can't find her. She said she’d come get me."
"I might’ve seen her." Her brows knitted in concern.
"She’s tall," I gestured, "really skinny. Blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s wearing a blue sequin dress."
The bartender nodded. "Yeah, I saw her and a couple of girls head to the back. She ran off with a guy not too long ago."
I groaned. Of course, she did. I must have missed her on my way in. Sinking into my chair, I threw back my martini, ripping the olive off the toothpick. My annoyance was palpable. I tried calling her, but there was no response.
Y/N: 420
Y/N: 3011
After a few more failed attempts, I paged Monica, another tech from the hospital I was close with. I used her last name; there were too many Monicas to keep track of. Her code number was written down on a piece of paper in my wallet.
Y/N: 221
"Hey," the bartender called out.
She seemed hesitant to speak. I felt a pang of guilt for making her uncomfortable. She probably thought her tip was on the line. I willed myself to calm down.
"Sorry about that."
"No worries," she replied, waving me off. "Just… be careful. We get some characters in here. I’ll keep an eye out for your friend."
I smiled at her. "Thanks."
"Anytime. If you need anything, just ask for 'Bootsy,'" she winked before taking my empty glass and returning to her boyfriend.
My pager buzzed.
Everson: 419
I rolled my eyes. I hated technology outside of medical settings. Pagers were useless for meaningful conversation. Luckily, Monica carried her cell everywhere, flaunting her family’s wealth. Her phone was much nicer than mine.
"Hey babe!" She shouted over the music.
"Angie left," I spoke louder than necessary, hoping she could hear. "The bartender saw her leave with a guy."
Monica laughed, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. We were too different to get along beyond pleasantries.
"Go Ang!" She giggled drunkenly. "We’re all in the back."
I rolled my eyes. "It’s my first time here."
"Bar, take a right, walk straight until you see a bunch of doors."
"What’s the entrance look like? Everything looks the same here."
"The door is black with a purple bead hanging off the handle," she hiccuped, then burped. "The lights around it are really red."
Annoyed, I shoved my phone into my purse and slid off my chair. The long hallway was daunting. This part of the bar was dimly lit and far more unsettling. Unlike the eyes on my back earlier, there was no one here. The jazz music faded, and I fought back a shiver. This place was creepy.
I went to the end of the hall only to find it empty. No door, no beads, nothing. Monica had given me the wrong directions. As frustrated as I was, I couldn’t be too upset with her. She had no idea what she was talking about and already had a few drinks in her system. My anger towards Angela only grew. I sent her another text, seething, and started to wander again, hunting for the elusive door.
The nurse was right; this place was a labyrinth. High ceilings and narrow passages could make even the most fearless person feel claustrophobic. I had to hold my breath when the walls seemed to close in. Aimlessly, I roamed, still finding nothing. The longer I walked, the more convinced I became that this lounge had been a catacomb at some point. From the outside, it didn't look nearly this expansive. My heels clicked loudly in the eerie silence. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I glanced around nervously.
"How the hell do you get lost in a bar?" I cursed myself, turning back the way I came. The bartender was nice enough; maybe she could help.
"It's a lounge, sha," a voice said behind me.
I screamed, flinching, and spun around, losing my footing. I grabbed the wall, but the impact scraped my arm against the rough bricks. The person offered a hand, but I ignored it, picking myself up and glaring at the stranger.
He was gorgeous—tall, slender, with broad shoulders and lean muscles under a white button-down shirt. His hands, large with long, piano fingers, slid back into his pants pockets. His doe eyes sparkled with amusement, and his grin was wide and boxy.
"My apologies," his voice was honeyed. "I didn't mean to startle you."
I kept glaring. "Startle? You nearly gave me a heart attack."
He snickered before his eyes fixed on my arm. "You're bleeding."
I looked at my shoulder, noticing the rip in my jacket and the blood seeping out. Throwing my hands up in exasperation, I yelled, feeling tears welling up. Tonight had been a disaster from the start—the dress, the people outside, Angie ditching me. Every part of it felt like a waste of time. I should just go home.
"Are you okay, sha?" he asked, gently touching my arm.
I laughed bitterly. "Does it look like it?"
"No, you look upset."
"Great detective work, Captain Obvious," I snapped, rolling my eyes and yanking my arm away. "And it’s pronounced cher, not sha."
He stepped back, his smile never faltering. He seemed amused, which I found odd, but I couldn’t walk away. I didn’t like him. He was creepy, even in his beauty, and his eyes reminded me of the group outside. Yet, my feet felt rooted to the ground, as if frozen in fear.
"No, cher, it's sha where I’m from."
I sniffled. "Louisiana, huh?"
"Born in France, but my family moved to New Orleans when I was young. I learned Kouri-Vini from a trumpet player in the French Quarter."
Embarrassed by my outburst, I nodded. Trust me to correct the grammar of a Frenchman. The night’s mood soured further, all my hopes for a good time dashed. Still, I couldn't deny a strange attraction to the stranger. His presence, unsettling yet warm, invited me to stay.
"You looked lost."
"I am. Trying to find my friends, but I have no idea where to go. They said 'the back,' like that’s helpful. I’ve been wandering for at least thirty minutes."
He placed a thoughtful finger on his chin. "You really shouldn’t walk around alone," he warned. "There are a lot of unsavory characters here."
"Are you an Anne Rice character or something?" I scratched my shoulder, wincing at the sting. "Why are you talking like that? It’s weird."
"Should I apologize?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Not if you can get me back to the bar."
He laughed. "I believe that can be arranged."
"You're doing it again." This time, we laughed together.
The walk back was shorter than I’d expected. He moved silently, with perfect posture, his perfection unsettling. Too symmetrical, too beautiful, and far too polite for someone who looked younger than me. As the jazz music grew louder, I learned he played the saxophone and trumpet for years in New Orleans. He opened his first bar, Midnight Moon, a few years ago and moved to New York City to branch out.
"What do you do for a living?" he asked.
"I’m a resident."
"Doctor," he whistled. "Very impressive."
"Not as impressive as being a rich, successful CEO in your twenties."
He laughed loudly, drawing a few looks. On cue, I lowered my head, feeling strange. Normally confident, here I felt the need to stay unseen, their eyes on me unnerving.
"What’s your name?" he asked, surprising me.
"Y/N," I answered, meeting his gaze.
He smiled, dazzling and unsettling. "I'm Taehyung."
"Nice to meet you, Taehyung," I said, my heart racing.
His eyes were a strange color, almost black with flecks of red under the lights. They were beautiful, but the spell broke, and I looked away again, feeling uneasy.
“There’s someone here who wants to see you,” Taehyung said, his voice rasping, almost angry. “But I don’t want to share you yet.”
I sucked in a breath, startled by his proximity. He had moved closer until we were chest to chest. I breathed him in—freesias and honey. My mouth watered, but I stepped back with effort. Taehyung didn’t follow.
“It’s probably my friend,” I said, noticing the bartender’s boyfriend staring. “We were supposed to meet here.”
“Y/N,” Taehyung’s eyes locked onto mine. “Remember what I said about unsavory characters.”
I nodded, dazed, as he brushed my hair behind my ear.
“Don’t leave with it, sha,” he whispered, sending a shiver up my spine.
I was too stunned to respond. Whatever Taehyung had said flew over my head as I placed my hand on the cheek he kissed. The skin still tingled where he had touched. When I looked up, he was gone. I spun in a circle, but there was no sign of the man anywhere. I made eye contact with the guy at the bar again and felt uncomfortable going up to him. He was frowning at me.
Taehyung had said someone was waiting for me, and the only person I could think of was Angie. She must have decided to come back after seeing my messages. Her hookup must have been lackluster if she came all the way back here. I chuckled to myself and finally walked to the bar. It would be fun to drink and talk shit. Then we could finally meet up with Monica and the girls, and my night could start looking up.
Angela was nowhere in sight when I got to the bar. The same man was still looking at me, as was the bartender. A new figure sat in my chair. It was another man by the looks of it, judging by their shoulders and haircut. I continued my search for Angela but still came up empty-handed. She was just looking for me.
"Looking for something?" the bartender asked.
I nodded. "Yeah, the guy I was with said someone was looking for me. Have you seen her?"
She pursed her lips and glanced at the other man. "Can't say I have. Taehyung was probably confused."
My shoulders dropped in defeat. Again, I was left stranded. I should probably just go home and call it a night. A small voice told me to go and find Taehyung. He had said he didn’t want to share me. How had he known someone was waiting for me?
I couldn’t think about it for too long, as if my mind wouldn’t let me. I thought about him, his perfect face, and how beautiful he was. His eyes, eyes I could not recall the color of for the life of me, staring down at me. His voice, a gentle purr in my ear beckoning me closer. A draft startled me out of my daydream and I realized I wanted to leave.
I sighed. "I think I’m going to head out then."
I swore I saw relief wash over her face. Her lips had been tight when I came back around, but she gave me a small, genuine grin. Probably some asshole customer. Every place has them, even a luxurious one. Her shoulders stiffened when the other man raised his arm. Her boyfriend’s hands clenched. That guy must be the douche.
"Bourbon." Oh, yeah, definitely a tool.
I rolled my eyes and did not think before taking a seat at the bar. I could at least distract her. She frowned at me and continued making his drink.
"Thought you were leaving?"
"I could get another drink before I go." I smiled at her.
"Dirty martini for the lady," the mystery man said.
My heart stopped. His face... My mouth dropped open at the sight of him. My dream man. He was sitting right in front of me. Every detail, every line and curve were the same. Even the mole on his lip was there. Just like Taehyung, it was hard to look into his eyes, but I knew they would be the same. I couldn’t remember what they looked like, but I was certain they shined a gentle, soft gold in the dark.
"You do like them dirty, right?" He grinned.
I couldn’t respond for a few moments. The resemblance was uncanny. The anxiety Taehyung’s presence had given me was nothing compared to this. It felt like an elephant had sat on my chest while every nerve in my body screamed at me to run. And just like Taehyung, I found myself unable to move. I found that I did not want to. I welcomed the feeling.
"How did you know that?" I asked, still in awe.
"I overheard you earlier. Was going to buy you one then but you left before I could."
I swallowed my thickening saliva. It was hard to get down. Every part of me wanted to run. My body begged to get away from him, but it also yearned to be near him. I was alight in every way possible, and the confusion was hard to wrap my head around. Do I stay or do I go? As if he could read my mind, the man reached out and ran a finger over the top of my hand. Electricity shot through my body, and it burned where he had touched.
"Have a drink with me."
"Okay," I whispered, hypnotized by his voice.
The bartender placed my drink in front of me before going back to her side of the bar, like she was trying to stay as far away from the man as possible. I knew his name, it was on the tip of my tongue, but I was insane to think it was even possible. He was a stranger, and there was no possible way he was my dream man. The two just looked similar. In my dreams, his eyes were gold, and his skin was much paler and sickly. I glanced at his hands and relaxed even further. In my dreams, the man had scars over every inch of his body.
"I’m Hoseok, by the way." He smiled at me, and I quivered.
There was something off about his teeth. His canines were too sharp. In fact, all of his teeth were. They were so white they almost glowed in the red lights. Too perfect. Everything about him was. I scooted away from him and angled my legs toward the bartender. I wanted to leave again. I wanted to get away from him. I had been right about his name.
I took a nervous sip of my drink. Why had I sat down in the first place? At the moment, it had seemed like the right thing to do, but now I felt conflicted. Had I really wanted to stay? It surely felt that way at the time. Now, I wanted to go home, and my body language was clear. Still, I could not stand up and walk away. Still, I took another sip and curled away from him without moving.
"Are you okay? You seem tense."
I nodded too quickly and enthusiastically to ever be taken seriously. Hoseok seemed amused by this, just as he had been smirking at my squirming moments before. He was unsettling. Maybe it was his resemblance to the monster from my dreams that had me on edge. Yes, I thought, that had to be the reason.
"Bad night," I replied, my hands shaking. I quickly finished my drink and stood up. Hoseok smiled at me. "Thanks for the drink. I’ll be going now."
"See you soon, Y/N."
I was so focused on leaving the bar, I did not hear the slip of his tongue. I had never told him my name. That night, after I got home, I dreamt of Hoseok killing me again. The next day, Angela never showed up for work, never answered my messages. No one else had heard from her either.
Her body was found mutilated and tortured in a motel room a few blocks away from Dauphine the following morning. My dreams began to include her in them. She cried for me to help her, blamed me for her death, and even laughed as I got my throat ripped out. I was never able to focus anymore and was blessed that my residency program finished only four months later.
After graduation, the dreams stopped. I stayed with my parents for the summer, played in the Florida sun, and decided against going back to New York for my fellowship. Instead, I chose to stay in Tallahassee and start my career. It was safe there. He was gone. A few years later, I left for Jacksonville, and my paranoia had started to fade.
Years had gone by, and my memories of his face began to escape me. His name was nothing more than a gentle whisper in the deepest pits of my mind. Even then, saying that would be an overstatement. My return to New York was in the wake of my mother’s death. My dad had passed away a few years prior, and our vacation home in Harlem, the same place I lived in so many years ago, had become prime real estate. I got a fellowship through Columbia upon my return. Life was looking up despite my grief, and I was ready to start a new venture in my medical career.
That was the beginning of my eventual end. I had cheated death all those years ago. Angela was my replacement, though I had no idea at the time. That thing knew she was waiting for me. It knew she would not let me out of her sight, so it took care of the problem. My fear gave it power, and it indulged itself in my torture. When I came back, it knew.
This time, I would not be lucky. Nothing and no one would get in its way. Soon, all memories of that night vanished. Angela’s name escaped me first, then her face, and finally what happened to her. Dauphine and its never-ending halls were gone. The thing that sat at the bar made sure of that before making his next move.
It was mid-October when he came back into my life, all memories of his face wiped from my mind, and his game really started. My death would be his favorite. A death he rejoiced in for years to come only to be disappointed that nothing lived up to that night.
Things like Hoseok lived for the chase, and I proved to be his greatest target.
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rockermybuddie · 3 days
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Misunderstanding
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Tommy x Evan “Buck”
A/n: i write a lot of Tommy and Buck. Imma write something different. Eventually.
Summary: Its Bucks off day and he decided he was going to bake some cookies and bring them to Tommy at work. When he arrives he spots Tommy talking to someone hes never seen before. Hes about to walk over to his boyfriend when the man kisses Tommy. Buck stops and turns around walking away before seeing or hearing Tommys reaction.
————
~Bucks POV~
I feel Tommys lips on mine as he gives me a goodbye kiss. “See you later.” He whispers. I hear the bedroom door click shut and drift back into sleeping.
When i woke up i made me some oatmeal and watched an episode of The Bachelor. When i was done i was bored. Eddie went down to Texas to vist with Christopher. I’m glad the two are making mends, i know it hurt Eddie when Chris left to live with his grandparents in Texas.
Maddie and Chim are taking a short trip to Long Beach. And Hen and Karin are dealing with the foster people to get Nia. So im out of options when it comes to hanging out with someone.
I decided im going to bake some cookies for Tommy and his station, so i get to work. I’m going to make a variety and an allergy free batch.
Once i finished i put the cookies in some boxes and loaded them into my jeep. I didnt text Tommy that i was coming because i want it to be a surprise.
When i arrived i parked my jeep and grabbed the boxes of cookies with a big smile on my face. I walked into the station and scanned the area looking for Tommy.
“Looking for Tommy?” Someone asks. “Yes.” I answer. Everyone here knows who i am. “Hes upstairs in the kitchen.” The person says. “Thanks.” I smile and make my way up the stairs.
When i get to the top i turn the corner and see Tommy talking to someone i’ve never seen before. Hes tall and skinny but well built, he has short curly blonde hair. I cant tell what color his eyes are but the way he is looking at Tommy is making me uneasy and hes standing really close to Tommy. Tommy is leaning against the counter just keeping conversation.
I was about to say his name when the guy leans forwards giving Tommy a kiss. That was all i needed to see even though thats not what i wanted to see. My heart instantly sank and i turned away and got out of there as fast as i could.
I threw the boxes of cookies in the trunk not caring if they spilled out and drove out of there as fast as I could.
I drove to my apartment because i obviously didnt want to go back to Tommys bouse where i’ve been staying at most of the time anyways.
When i walked in it was kind of cold but it didn’t bother me because i was flamming with anger. I cant believe Tommy kissed another guy. I tried not to cry but it was too hard to hold back. I really thought he was the one, that he wouldnt cheat on me. I guess i was wrong.
——-
~Tommys POV~
Everything was going fine at work, had a few easy calls. We got a new person his name is Kaleb Green, great young kid. Hes been doing really good.
We were in the kitchen just talking about why we wanted to become a firefighter and the craziest calls we have ever been on.
“So is your locker the one with the gay pride flag on it?” He asks me. “Yes?” I answer carefully. I dont think this kid is a homophobe or anything but im alway cautious when it comes to telling people. I have no shame in being a gay man but having such a masculine job some people may see me differently.
“Thats so cool. Another gay firefighter. I’ve never met another one. I dont feel so alone now.” He says. “Oh, well actually…” i was going to tell him about Evan but before i could finish my sentence he leaned forward and kissed me. I definitely was not expecting that.
“Dude! What the hell?!” I shout shoving him off of me. “Sorry. Too far?” He stupidly asks. “Yes way too far! Plus i have a boyfriend. He happens to be a firefighter too.” I snap. “Please dont report me. I really like it here” he begs. “Too late.” I tell him walking out of the kitchen.
I walk downstairs to report him when i see a familiar grey jeep leaving the parking lot pretty fast. I hope that wasnt Evan.
“Hey Kinard, what did Evan bring you?” Steven asks from a far. “Shit” i say under my breath that was Evan and he probably saw what happened in the kitchen because i never saw him.
I was about to ask if i could handle this when a call came through. I had to push down my anger and my worries about what just happened and focus on the call. God i hope its a simple call so it goes by fast.
It was not. It was a warehouse fire and the warehouse contained toxic chemicals so everything we did had to be done carefully and correctly. It took the rest of the shift.
We finally got back to the station at 11pm. I grabbed my bag and headed straight for my truck. “Hey Kinard.” I hear Kaleb call out behind me. “Dont talk to me. You most likely just ended my relationship with Evan and he was the best thing thats ever came into my life.” I snap at him. Which I probably said too much, based off his facial expressions, but i need to talk to Evan tell him what happened and pray that he believes me. “Let me talk to him, then i’ll ask for a new placement.” Kaleb says, “let me fix this.” He adds. “No you are not talking to him and yes find a new placement. Its not going to work for you here.” I tell him throwing my bag in the truck and drove home.
——
When i arrive home i dont see Evans jeep which means hes not here. I dont know why i thought he would be at my house after all. I mean yeah hes been staying here most of his time anyways but this would be the last place he would come after seeing another guy kiss me.
I try calling him and texting him but hes not answering, rightfully so. I drive over to his apartment next. I see his jeep parked in its usual spot so i know hes here.
I knock on his door immediately when i arrive. No response. “Evan its me. Please can we talk?” I ask through the door loud enough he should be able to here me. After a few more moments of knocking and asking nicely I threaten to do a welfare check and kick down his door.
I then heard the sound of locks unlocking and the door opened to a cold apartment and a tall Evan with a tear stained face and a angry blank expression.
“Evan please listen, i didnt kiss him. He kissed me.”i say, this is a lot more nerve racking than i thought. Its so hard not to stutter and to hse the right wording. ��I saw you Tommy.” Evans voice cracks, he walks to the other end of the table while im at the other. Hes so close but het so far.
“Evan i would never cheat on you. Please believe me. We were talking and he asked if my locker was the one with the gay pride flag. Next thing i felt his lips on mine and i pushed him away. I swear.” I tell him the whole story but i cant tell if he believes me or not.
How do you convince your partner that you aren’t cheating on them when they saw another guy kiss you? I feel like im losing him and i really dont want to.
——-
~Bucks POV~
I listen to what Tommy is telling me and my brain is telling me not to believe him but my heart is telling me that hes telling the truth. Because Tommy is the first person to ever so me the type of personal affection, how it feels to be loved. Even though we haven’t said it yet we can feel it when we cuddle, when we get intimate, and when we say the same thing at the same time.
But in this case what do i go with my brain or my heart? Part of me wants to just believe him and go back to how things were but the other half wants to kick him out of my apartment and never talk to him again.
“Evan everyone in this situation had a misunderstanding.” Tommy says. “How am I misunderstanding this Tommy?” I ask in anger. “Okay, okah, im sorry. Wrong words here. Kaleb had a misunderstanding with what i said and he didnt let me finish talking before he kissed me. I was literally about to tell him about you when he kissed me.” Tommy explains.
“Thats what they all say.” I mumble under my breath. “Say what?” Tommy asks. “That the other person kissed them.” I answer. “Evan….” Tommy says, he can tell hes losing me.
It was quiet for a few moments as each of us trys to think of something. “I’ll come get my stuff tomorrow.” I say finally breaking the silence. “W-w-w-what?” Tommy stutters. “I said i’ll come get my stuff from your house tomorrow. While your at work so we dont see each other.” I repeat. Evans face goes into panic mode as he runs a frantic hand through his rough hair.
“Evan please. Im telling the truth. Listen Kaleb said he will talk to you. He’ll tell you everything i just said is true.” Tommy says all in one breath trying to convince me. “Please leave Tommy.” I ask. I’ve been hurt by too many people that are supposed to love me to try again and risk getting hurt again and again and again.
“Evan, baby please.” Tommy begs. “Stop. Get out Tommy. Get out before i call the police.” I command. Tommy rubs his chin with his hand as he turns to the door. He looks back at me one more time before he forces himself out the door.
Now im all alone, again. I should just stay single the rest of my life clearly everyone is going to hurt me when i get close to them.
——
The next day i wait intil i know Tommy is going to be at work so i can go get my clothes from over there.
When i arrive i dont see his truck which means he went to work today. I walk up to the door and i go to type in the code to unlock the door when the door opens. I look up and see the guy from yesterday. Kaleb.
I wanted to punch the guy so bad. He messed up the one good thing i had in my life. “Evan, right?” He asks. “So you’re Tommys new side piece huh?” I snarl. “Please let me explain myself. I never ment for any of this to happen. Can we just talk?” He asks stepping aside for me to come in. I roll my eyes and walk into the house.
I took a seat at the island in the kitchen as I listened to Kaleb talk. He basically said that it was his fault that he made the move and he ruined his chance at the firehouse. He said that he’s been transferred to a new one.
“So do you believe Tommy now? That he wouldn’t cheat on you?” Kaleb asks. “He was going to come tell you instantly but we got a call. You know how it is.” “Yeah.” Is all i say. “Well i have to get going. I really hope you can forgive Tommy. He really loves you.” Kaleb says as he lets himself out.
I sat at the kitchen island with my head in my hands thinking about what to do when i saw Tommy standing in the entrance of the kitchen leaning against the wall frame.
His body language was soft and his face was filled with regret. Hearing both sides of the story and that basically Tommy was telling the truth made it a little easier to go with my heart. But still knowing another guy kissed him hurts a little.
——
~Tomms POV~
I stood there and watched Evan as he proceeded what Kaleb told him. I can’t believe i caved and let Kaleb talk to Evan but its the only thing I could think of that could save mine and Evans relationship.
“So its true.” Evan finally says. “Yes.” I say. “A lot of people hurt me in the last Tommy.” He says. “I know. I never wanted to be one of them.” I try to control my voice to keep it steady.
“I know.” Evan says, “it still hurts that another guy kissed you.” He says. “It wont happen again. I swear to you Evan.” I promise him. “I know.” He says, a small smile spread across my face.
I walk towards him keeping an eye on his body language. “So do you forgive me?” I ask when im standing in front of him. I feel like im shaking as i wait for an answer. “Yes.” Evan tilts his head up and makes eye contact with me.
A smile spread my face as i lifted his chin up with my finger and connected my lips to his. God it felt so good to feel his lips against mine again. “What were you bringing me yesterday?” I ask out of curiosity. “Cookies. They are spilled in the back of my jeep.” He answers. “You taste better than cookies.” I say shrugging my shoulders. He smiles at that.
“I missed you so much.” I say against his lips resting my forehead against his. “I missed you too.” He says. I cradle the back of his head with my hand as i take his mouth back into mine.
I have him back and im never letting him go again.
——-
A/n: I hope you enjoyed the story!
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