#(I’ll jump in with gifs later!)

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

AHHHH okay so for some reason I didn’t get any notif even though I was tagged?? I saw it just now for the first time while scrolling your blog😭😭

But YES to all of this (fair warning I have spent most of the day doing admin work and then writing and stuff so my adhd brain is not fully able to focus anymore so i only comprehended like 65-70% of what I just read BUT!)

I do agree with this character analysis, it rings so true!! I remember writing something similar last season about how Echo basically lived a life that forced him into the opposite of his comfort zone/identity. He was the rule follower, the most regular of the regs, he didn’t have any tattoos, wore the regulation hair cut, didn’t want to make any waves.

And then the Citadel happens and the Techno Union takes him and turns him into someone who cannot blend into the sea of clones anymore. He is forced to be the opposite of the identity he’d made himself comfortable in and instead of breaking under this challenge he faces it head on and allows the change. He allows himself to see himself in a different light and adjusts. And that is the mark of true strength.

The Evolution of an Echo

Okay well I wasn't planning on doing this now but I decided to strike while the iron is hot and have now started writing a full on character essay at *checks watch* 22:06

But despite his limited screen time, I really love how Echo has been portrayed this season and I really want to have a look at his character evolution over the course of The Bad Batch and how he compares now to who we were first introduced to in The Clone Wars.

Steph waffle about Echo coming up down below! 🧇

@saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings

So I feel like the main thing we see with Echo is that he generally has more confidence now than he did before. Don't get me wrong, he still had confidence in a combat situation and was not afraid to throw himself into the action if it meant he could help people (self-preservation who?), but he seems to have become more comfortable with being himself, like he's properly found his own identity.

And I think that that is interesting considering what Echo has gone through. Personality-wise (and looks-wise), he is very different to who he once was but he still feels like Echo. We haven't lost him, he's just become more aware of what makes Echo Echo. Because when he was first given the name, he hated it. He didn't like being called that because it stemmed from people teasing him about his habit of repeating orders. While there wasn't any true malicious intent (the Dominoes were his brothers after all), Echo ended up being the target of "bullying" during his early years in the GAR. He was a rule follower and believed that things had to be done by the book for a reason. But that resulted in him getting teased a lot and I don't think he ever truly built up the same level of confidence as some of his other batchmates. And for him, that name probably suggested that everything that made up his identity, everything that made him him, was that name and how it stemmed from his belief that rules were made to be followed. His identity was in some way intrinsically tied to his name.

However, over time we saw that he came to fully embrace the name ("is there and Echo in here?") and over the course of the last couple of seasons, have really begun to see Echo fully living up to his potential, no longer tying himself to the "rule-follower" identity that he had carried with him for so long. Because what happened to him on Skako Minor fundamentally changed who he was: not just physically, but personally as well. He had to navigate being a new person and that meant finding himself again, even if the person he found was not the one he was expecting. And remember that at this point, all of his batchmates are gone; the people who gave him the name that summed up his personality are gone. The Batch don't know the old Echo and in some ways that probably helped him find himself. There was no expectation from them for him to go back to who he was before because they don't know that side of him. It gave Echo the space to breath and I feel like in some ways there was less of a pressure for him to try and go back to who he was.

Now that's not to say that the old Echo isn't still there in some ways. When he first ran with the Batch, he didn't quite have the same level of chaos as them, didn't really have the same way of going about things. And that never fully went away. Look at the way he challenged Hunter in season 2: he didn't instantly fall into doing things that Batch's way, but still held onto his own beliefs. But that confrontation did show a build in confidence. Echo became much more confident in standing up for himself, for doing what he believed even if that wasn't how everyone else wanted to do it. And so much of that stems from what he went through. Echo has been through hell, and if he can prevent that from happening to other people, then he will, even if it means disagreeing with his brothers.

One thing that has stood out to me is how Echo has begun to accept that where he belongs isn't always in one spot. And I imagine that this was something that had never really occurred to him much until this point because he'd only ever really been in one place: with his batch. I mean, they spent rotation after rotation after rotation together on the Rishi Moon. Echo never really had to deal with change until his brothers died. Then he found the 501st and that's when Echo began to adapt to shifts. He was in new places, with new jobs, but he always had one constant: Fives. And yet, following his rescue, that constant was gone. The place that had once felt like home to Echo now didn't feel like that anymore because it wasn't what he remembered. It's why he went with the Batch.

And I think this change was crucial in building the Echo we see today. It was a point in which he learned that home didn't mean one place. And sometimes it didn't even mean the same people. Home is simply where one feels like they belong, and for Echo that isn't always the same spot. It's where he feels like he can truly be himself and for him that means being in a position where he can help people. Whether that be with the 501st, or the Batch, or the Rebellion, Echo has learned to find a place in wherever he feels he needs to be. And that's why he's become so confident: because he has found where he belongs and what truly makes Echo Echo.

So we can look at Echo now and see the change. But we can still see the old him there - the drive to do the right thing, the protectiveness he holds for those he cares about, and the incredibly stressful habit of always putting himself in harms way in order to get things done - but he's embraced it more than ever before. While his screen time has been short this season, what we've seen from Echo is the perfect demonstration of why he was made an ARC and why he has always been so amazing. He is an incredibly talented soldier and now that he's found his calling, he's flourishing. He's embracing the change and he's taking everything in his stride. He's a good leader, a competent soldier, an incredible tactician, and a genuinely nice person who cares about the wellbeing of the people around him. Echo has come out of his shell and truly flourished and it's amazing to see.

And his humour has come back as well! One of the things that was often pointed out was how Echo's jokey side had kind of faded while he was with the Batch and yet over the last season it's come out in full force. Echo finding his confidence has also made him snarkier and bitchier in the best way possible. He knows what he wants and he isn't going to put up with anyone's bs. And what I love even more is how much the Batch have embraced him. They trust him now more than ever; he's their brother and they respect his drive and support him, even if it isn't the path they wanted to take themselves.

Now Echo still has his struggles, he isn't perfect. He can still be overly blunt sometimes, and he still has his vulnerabilities ("I don't enjoy solitude") but they don't make him weak. In fact Echo is stronger than ever and embracing who he is even more. And we can see where his growth has been influenced by those around him; the soft side that has become stronger after caring for Omega and the complete and utter chaos stemming from Fives and the Batch for example.

And you know what, Echo is a fitting name. Not because he repeated orders, but because in everything he does, and everything he proves himself to be, you can see the echoes of his past, who he was, who he's known and who he grew to be.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Competing With Gods

Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader

Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you

Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.

Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.

Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”

The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”

“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”

She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”

“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”

“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”

“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.

“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”

“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.

As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”

“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”

He just gave her a tight lipped smile.

“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.

Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”

“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”

“He looks 18!” she insisted.

“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”

“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.

Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”

Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.

~

That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”

Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.

When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.

He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.

When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”

He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.

Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.

Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.

So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.

“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.

She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.

Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.

The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.

~

The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.

As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.

“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.

Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.

Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.

“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.

“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.

Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.

“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”

Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.

After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.

The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.

They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.

So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.

While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.

Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.

Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.

“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.

The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”

“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”

The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”

Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.

“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.

Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.

Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.

Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”

Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.

He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?

Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.

That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.

“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”

Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.

“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.

“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.

Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”

She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.

She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”

“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”

“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.

Masterlist

[perlelune]

NDA | Coriolanus Snow

When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.

Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.

She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.

As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.

She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.

“So what do you think sets you apart  from the other applicants?”

You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.

This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?

Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.

Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.

So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.

It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.

Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.

“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.

But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.

“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”

An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.

Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.

You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.

You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.

Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body. 

The sudden collision threatens your balance.

Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.

As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.

“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.

As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.

You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you. 

 Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.

The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.

A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.

“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”

Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.

“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”

“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.

You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.

You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.

Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow. 

“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.

Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”

As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.

Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.

“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”

He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.

“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”

His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his. 

Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares. 

As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it. 

When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.

Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.

Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.

“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.

“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.

You close the cabinet and beam at him.

“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.

It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.

You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.

“It’s fine.”

You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.

“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”

He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes. 

“Stop it.”

You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.

“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.

His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.

“Laertes…”

He shakes his head, his expression firm.

“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”

Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.

You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals. 

Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.

You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.

“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.

He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.

“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.

“How did it go?”

“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”

The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.

Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.

“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“Okay.”

His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.

He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.

“Finish your plate before going to your room.”

Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.

“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.

“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.

He gathers his books and strides towards his room. 

Your voice rises.

“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”

“I…love you too,” he mumbles.

You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.

The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.

You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.

To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”

The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.

“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”

Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.

“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”

He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste. 

Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?

You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.

These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox. 

Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.

You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up. 

You take a deep slow breath before reading it again. 

This time, a squeal escapes from your lips. 

You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies. 

After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true. 

Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly. 

You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling. 

Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job. 

Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.

You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.

Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.

A weary sigh ripples behind you.

You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.

“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”

“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”

She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.

“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”

She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.

She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.

“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval. 

You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.

“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”

He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that. 

You turn to Pandora.

“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”

Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”

“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”

Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.

“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”

You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.

“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”

“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”

“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”

A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.

“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”

You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.

You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.

She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.

She was a fairytale princess come to life.

Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.

Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.

She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire. 

But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.

The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.

You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.

“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”

Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”

As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.

Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.

You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.

Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.

It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other. 

“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features. 

“And why is that?”

“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”

You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.

But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.

Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading. 

“You’re leaving again?”

You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day. 

You hunker down to his level.

“My little brother’s expecting me.”

His forehead puckers. “Stay…”

“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face. 

You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.

As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling  screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.

Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.

Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.

But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it. 

Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.

Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.

Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it. 

The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze. 

President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.

Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before. 

The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.

A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked. 

Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.

You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door. 

Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs.  The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back. 

No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.

…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind. 

You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.

But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain. 

You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.

You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery. 

“Yes?”

“The president wants to see you in his office.”

Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.

“Really, why?”

“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”

Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”

Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”

A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked. 

You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.

A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately. 

His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.

“Are you settling in well?” he asks.

“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”

“I hear my son is very fond of you.”

You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”

He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.

“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.

Your head rises. “What’s strange?”

“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”

Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”

“No fiancé?”

“No, sir.”

“A lover then?”

Warmth rushes to your face.

“No…”

He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.

“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”

A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”

“But…”

Your mouth dries.

“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”

His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”

Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud. 

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”

He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement. 

“Really? What happened then?”

His gaze locks with yours. 

“I grew up.”

Confused, you frown. 

“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”

Another laugh bursts from his chest.

“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”

He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you. 

“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”

“I…yes.”

Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways. 

He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.

“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes you are, sir.”

He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.

Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.

“Liar,” he mumbles.

Your pulse quickens.

He leans back and nudges your chin upward.

“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”

President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.

“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.

The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.

“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.

Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.

Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds. 

Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.

“Please, President Snow, s-stop…” 

“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.

Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.

You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.

Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves. 

“P-President…” 

He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.

Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.

Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest. 

When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.

There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt. 

He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.

When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.

Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.

“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.

His teeth nip the skin of your neck.

“...But I do.”

After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.

Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.

Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.

More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.

As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.

You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.

But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.

You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.

Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.

Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.

You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.

“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.

Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.

You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.

“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”

The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.

“You’re not my mom.”

A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.

“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.

You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?

“Martius-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.

“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”

Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.

“First Lady, I never meant-”

Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.

Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.

You shiver, waiting still.

But it doesn’t come.

“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”

The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open. 

You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle. 

“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”

The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.

Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.

“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.

The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs. 

“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”

You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.

“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.

Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.

“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”

A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.

The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.

“This is for the president,” you announce.

She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”

You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.

All of it feels wrong. 

And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.

You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”

Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”

You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”

“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”

Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.

How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.

The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.

You toss a questioning look at the driver.

But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.

You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.

Peacekeepers.

Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.

They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.

The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.

Your fearful gaze rises to him.

He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.

“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”

He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.

“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”

The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.

“Sir…”

His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.

“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him. 

Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.

“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”

Chills dance over your spine.

“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.

He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.

But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.

“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears. 

He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.

“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Strip Poker with Wade and Logan

Description: Y/N, Wade and Logan play strip poker

Request: I would loveee and fanfic with the three of them actually playing strip poker

Y/N was just as excited as Wade was. She was secretly in love with both of them and getting to see them naked? Well that was a bonus

Logan rolled his eyes but agreed. He was not as thrilled as the other two. 

Y/N’s objective was to get both of them naked.

Wade’s objective was to get Y/N naked and Logan but mostly Y/N.

Logan…well he did wanna see Y/N naked. That was something he couldn’t lie about. 

“So baby girl, I’m gonna need you to lose so we can enjoy ourselves.” Wade motioned between him and Logan. 

Y/N rolled her eyes

“Ok Logan take off that slutty shirt.” Wade told him as he grumbled.

His abs 

Y/N could not stop staring at his abs. Her eyes were glued to them.

This made Logan smirk. 

“Ok Y/N we get it you like his abs.” 

Wade was a little jealous 

Wade wasn’t a fan of his body but Y/N clapped and cheered as he took off his shirt. 

Logan chuckled at her reaction

Y/N was winning and had yet to remove any clothes.

Wade was pretty much naked besides his socks and boxers 

Logan was down to his sweatpants 

Y/N finally lost and Wade yelled “hallelujah.”  

Logan smirked as she took off her tshirt revealing a lilac lace colored bra. 

Wade’s eyes couldn’t leave her tits that weren’t even out yet. 

“We get it, you like her tits.” Logan says.

The next time she lost Wade was practically begging her to remove her bra but she liked teasing him and removed her socks instead 

Logan’s sweatpants came off and both of them gawked at how big he looked in his boxers. 

“Ya like what ya see, doll?” He asked Y/N. 

“Oh sweet baby yes.” Wade answered 

Wade accepted his fate once he lost and was finally naked. 

Y/N felt herself drip at the sight. 

He watched intensely as the other two played

“Please show us your tits. Please show us your tits.” 

Y/N smirked and went to take off her bra but stopped and pulled her PJ pants down. 

She wore a matching set that made both boys stare 

“I’ll be damned, that is better than any dream or image in my head.” 

Y/N had to think of which to remove next. Her bra or panties? 

Panties it is. 

Logan’s jaw dropped and he could practically smell her arousal from where he sat. It was driving him crazy. 

Y/N jumped up and down as she won and Logan had to remove his boxers. 

She moaned at the size causing both men to look at her. 

Oh she was so horny now 

“Well pretty girl you won so you get a reward.” Logan told her.

Wade and him walked over to her side of the table. 

Was this really happening? She thought 

They both leaned down and kissed her neck.

She gasped their names 

“I can smell how horny you are.” Logan growled in her ear.

“Wolvy is right baby and damn it smells good.” 

She throws her head back and reminds herself to thank Wade for the strip poker idea later           

[moonlightspencie]

tenderly, tragically

Description: Silly, lifelong best-friendship leads to a lot of meaningless teasing. Though, sometimes teasing comes from a place of truth. It’s just that sometimes, those getting teased are the last to know why.

Pairing: Best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, some angst, smut 18+ (p in v, praise kink, whiny james, size kink, first time for both), drinking, its really idiots to lovers

Word Count: 7.8k (just fluff): 9.4k (smut)

A/N: smut is at the end, and there’s a warning before it starts since it’s kind of like an alternate ending/extra bit. if you JUST want fluff, it ends at a good point for that before the smut starts :) ALSO: as with all of my marauders fics, characters are aged up (19-20)

fic playlist

“Jamie,” I squeal a laugh, chasing after him.

He laughs, continuing to out-run me. The bastard.

“Not my fault you’re slow,” he calls back. “Catch up, love, or you’ll get caught.”

I run harder, jumping on his back when I get close enough. We both knew he’d slowed down to let me get closer, but neither of us bothered to mention it. He laughed, holding onto my legs as they wrapped around his waist, slowing until he was walking.

“You’re going to get us caught, you know that?”

I snort a laugh. “Please. There wasn’t even anybody there.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, finally dropping me from his back, and instead slinging an arm around my shoulders.

“They could have, though.”

“But they didn’t,” I say pointedly. “Besides, Remus, Peter, and Sirius are still actually in the Slytherin dorms. Lousy look-outs we are because of you.”

He chuckles, walking us towards the stairs.

“They’ll be fine,” he shrugs with a cocky smirk. “Besides, I doubt even most of the Slytherins would object to a little prank on Snivellus.”

I hum, nodding a little. “I guess. Still. You’re a bad friend.”

“You ran too,” he accused, his brow furrowing. “Don’t go and pin all this on me.”

“You told me to run!”

“You didn’t have to listen!”

I scoff, shaking my head. He gives me an irritated look, but pulls me a little closer under his arm. We get into the common room, and without even asking, he starts ushering me to their dorm room.

“Why?” I ask, knowing he knows what I’m asking.

“Sue me for wanting to spend some time with my life-long friend,” he says, quirking a brow.

I push him away from me, but he doesn’t really let me get far. He opens his door, pushing me in first. I immediately flop onto his bed face-first.

“Not complaining now, are you?” he asks, laying next to me.

“Not my fault your bed is so comfy,” I say, my voice muffled by the mattress.

I feel the mattress dip, and look up to see him also turned on his stomach, right next to me.

“If you really wanted to get me alone this bad you could’ve asked,” I say with a wink.

He rolls his eyes, but a smile gives him away.

“Please. I know you’re secretly hoping for it, but we both know that’s never going to happen.”

“Me?” I laugh. “As if. What would I do with a quidditch player?”

He scoffs, an offended look on his face.

“I’ll have you know that I am very desirable, and half of that has to do with the fact I’m the seeker, thank you.”

I roll my eyes. “Uh huh. And what’s the other half?”

“You seen this face?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his lips.

“Unfortunately I have.”

“You’re mean,” he says, a laugh breaking up his attempt to be offended.

He pushes me a bit, but I hardly budge. I laugh at his attempt, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. He perks up, trying harder to fully push me off the bed, now.

“Hey!” I say in protest, fighting back against him.

He laughs, both of us practically fighting as he keeps trying to push me off. I see an opportunity a moment later and take it: I grab onto one of his arms with both of mine.

“Ha!” I say loudly. “Can’t push me off now unless you also fall off.”

He pauses, then an evil smirk comes onto his face. My face drops as I realize what he’s about to do. He scoots over, dropping both of us onto the ground. I squeal as we fall, and I end up taking the brunt of the fall as he lands on top of me.

“You should never threaten me with a good time. You know I can’t resist,” he says, not bothering to alleviate the pressure of his body pinning me down.

I groan. “You suck. I didn’t think you’d actually push both of us off just to get me.”

“Then you don’t know me very well,” he replies with a quirked brow.

“Please. I know you better than anyone and you know it.”

He opens his mouth to snark back at me, but the door opens before he gets a chance.

“You two are the worst,” Sirius says, clearly out of breath. Then, he scoffs as more footsteps follow behind him. “And look at this! They ran off on us to… Canoodle on the floor.”

I furrow my brow, pulling a face as I try to see him around James.

“Canoodle?” I repeat in disgust.

James finally starts getting off of me, kneeling on the ground next to me as I start pulling myself up. Remus and Peter give us a look.

“We’re not… canoodling, and you can blame Prongs for us ditching. He’s the one who took off running and told me I had to, too.”

Remus quirks a brow at that as Sirius goes to sit on his bed.

“You didn’t have to listen to him,” Peter pipes up.

“That’s what I told her,” James says, giving me a self-satisfied look.

I make a sour face at him, pushing his arm a little. He pushes me back, and I straighten up. Though, Remus must notice that look on me.

“Don’t you two start up again,” he says, pointedly looking between us. “If I have to watch you two flirt any more I might throw up.”

“We’re not flirting,” James grumbles. “She’s just fun to mess with.”

“Mm. And you’re just easy to win a fight against,” I add.

He looks at me quickly. “You didn’t win the last one.”

“Because you pushed us both off the bed!” I exclaim.

“Oh, shut it, you two,” Sirius says, his arm draped over his face. “We’ve been back for three days and you’re already acting up.”

I snort a laugh at Sirius’s annoyance, climbing back onto James’s bed. I sigh with my face in the pillows, feeling him climb over me to get to the other side a second later.

“You got us in trouble,” he whispers.

“Your fault, not mine,” I reply.

“You’re the one who insulted my perfect face.”

“You’re the one who pushed me first,” I argue back.

“Oi!” Sirius calls out again, leaving us both laughing.

Our first few weeks of school go off without a hitch. The boys continue pulling their little pranks, occasionally dragging me along with them. I settle into my space this year, glad to still have Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas as my roommates. We always tended to get along quite well.

I start reading a new book one night, absolutely enraptured with the story, probably even more so considering it’s helping me to avoid the homework that I really should be doing. I get through the first couple chapters before I notice Lily staring at me.

“What is it, Lils?”

“Can I tell you something?” Lily asks suddenly.

She looks around the room, seemingly to make sure the other girls are really gone for whatever she’s about to say.

I look at her over my book. “Sure.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

I nod. “Promise.”

She sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “I think I have a thing for someone… Well, for James.”

My eyes widen. “Really? You wanted nothing to do with him a little while ago.”

“I know. I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bored or something, but I’ve been thinking about telling him.”

I nod. “Yeah. You should.”

“Really?” she asks, surprised.

“Why not?”

She smiles to herself. “Yeah. Why not? Do you think he’ll say it back?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe? He did have a crush on you before.”

She hums to herself. I laugh a little, shaking my head.

“I think I’ll do it tomorrow. Better to do it sooner than later, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I shrug noncommittally. I really just wanted to get back to my book.

“You don’t even care,” she groans after a moment.

“This is a really good book, Lils,” I laugh.

“Fine. I’ll stop bothering you.”

“Thanks,” I smirk to myself.

She scoffs again, though I know she isn’t really offended. I wish her good luck as we head off to our classes that day, knowing she was planning on telling James sometime in the morning.

I end up finding him later, though I try not to press for answers the second I do. We sit on the grass in the late afternoon, watching some first years play a little quidditch match for fun. It’s uncharacteristically warm outside, and the sun shines down on us. After half an hour of watching the kids play, I glance at James.

“I wanna show you something,” I say suddenly, standing.

James looks up at me in confusion. “I’d prefer not to move.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.

“It’s a nice day. Sunny and no clouds. Please, just follow me?” I ask, almost whining. “Promise you’ll like it.”

He leans back on his hands. “How do you know?”

“Because I found a secret place in the woods, and you’ll be the first person besides me to see it,” I offer.

He quirks a brow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now get up.”

He grumbles to himself as he gets up, following me as we walk towards the woods. I start leading him through the trees towards the destination I had in mind.

“What were you even doing in here? It’s dangerous,” he says quietly.

“I was fine. Just had a long day and wanted to explore. It was in the daytime anyway,” I say matter-of-factly.

He hums to himself, clearly dissatisfied that I went out here by myself. But as I finally lead him to our destination, his annoyance wears off.

“Whoa,” he says, his eyes a little wide.

I smile. “See? Told you it would be worth your while.”

He looks on at the small clearing. There’s a little pond with clear water, the space in the trees allowing some sunlight to reflect on the water. It looks peaceful at least, and nearly-heavenly at best. I look at him expectantly.

“How’d you find this?” he asks, squatting by the water. He dips his hand it. “Whoa. It’s warm.”

I nod, still standing. “I found it when I was exploring, like I said. A few weeks ago. I charmed the water to stay warm, so I’ve been out here two or three times to swim. Thought I’d show you before it gets too cold.”

He smiles, standing up. “You want to go swimming? You didn’t bring any—”

His eyes widen as he finally looks at me. At this point, I’ve already started taking off my robes and my shirt.

“What?” I ask, brows furrowed. “You act like you’ve never been around me getting dressed. We’ve been friends since we were like six years old. Now, hurry up. Faster you get undressed, the faster we get to swim.”

He rolls his eyes at me, begrudgingly taking off his clothes, even though part of him still looks excited that I’d found such a nice little place.

I start wading in once I’m down to my underwear, the water feeling nice and warm in contrast to the slightly-cool air. I hear him come in after me in a moment, and turn to watch him.

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“Can’t believe you were hiding this from me,” he says, hiding a smirk.

“Oh, please,” I reply, floating on my back in the water. “You’re lucky I showed you at all. Nobody else knows about this. You should feel honored.”

I hear him hum and splash around a little, though my eyes are closed. I bask in the warmth of the sunlight on my face.

“Did Lils talk to you today?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.

“Yeah.”

I upright myself, looking at him as he aimlessly walks around in the water.

“And?”

He glances at me, giving a shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I press, furrowing my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean? What did you guys talk about?”

“I have a feeling you already know,” he snorts a laugh.

I roll my eyes, wading closer to him. “So she told you?”

“Yep.”

“Well, what happened? What did you say?”

He sighs dramatically. “Does it matter?”

I splash him a little. “I’m gonna hear about it no matter what. She’s my roommate. Just wanted to know from you before I see Lily later.”

“Told her I wasn’t interested,” he says quietly, splashing me back a little.

I pause. “Why? You always had a massive crush on her.”

“Not in, like, a year,” he says.

“So you just rejected her?”

“I didn’t reject her,” he furrows his brows, looking away from me. “She told me she liked me, and I just told her I wasn’t into her like that. She didn’t ask me a question, so it wasn’t a rejection. Just being honest.”

I groan. “Jamie, she’s going to kill me. I’m the one who encouraged her to tell you.”

His eyes widened. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“I thought you liked her!”

He pauses for a moment, then splashes me again, this time fully soaking me. I scoff a laugh, in shock as the water hits me. I glare at him, then splash him back just as hard. He starts going on the attack, practically throwing the water at me repeatedly.

“You absolute tosser,” I say, continuing to splash back, though I can’t help but laugh.

I start backing up as we both continue, now laughing and barely able to see with how rapid-fire we’re going. Eventually, I turn and start running for the shore as much as I can while being chest-deep in water. I squeal as I hear him closing in on me.

“No, no, no,” I laugh, getting closer and closer to safety.

“Should’ve thought about trying to run a little harder, love,” James says back, still giggling to himself.

He catches up to me when the water is finally below my hips, and grabs around the waist, pulling both of us backwards. The water goes over our heads for a moment, and I gasp out a laugh as we emerge again. He sits us up in the pond.

I turn in his arms, smacking him lightly on the chest. “You’re awful!”

“You love me,” he smiles brightly, still sitting on the ground in the shallow water. He pulls me in a little closer. “You’re just mad that I won.”

“Still can’t believe you said you didn’t like her,” I say, brushing some of his wet curls away from his eyes.

“Not gonna lie to the girl,” he shrugs, swatting away my hand.

“Still. I thought for sure you’d be excited.”

“Hm. I don’t know. Maybe a couple years ago, but not anymore.”

“At this point I’m convinced you’re driving girls away on purpose. When was the last time you dated someone?” I laugh.

He looks at me, mockingly offended. “Excuse me?”

“What?” I exclaim, still laughing. “Last girl I remember seeing you with was some Ravenclaw a few quidditch wins ago, and even then, you were just sucking face because you were drunk.”

He finally pushes me away from him, trying to hide a smile. I chuckle, gaining my bearings, and finally landing comfortably on my knees in the water a foot away from him.

“You wouldn’t be so offended if I were wrong,” I tease.

“Yeah? And when’s the last time you dated somebody?”

I scoff. “You scare off every boy who tries to ask me out.”

“Cause they’re all ridiculous,” he states, making a face. “Are you seriously telling me you wanted to go out with that Johnny kid from Hufflepuff?”

I smirk. “Touché. But still, it’s not my fault I’m not dating anyone. You, on the other hand…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he quirks a brow.

“You’ve got all kinds of girls chasing after you. What’s your excuse?”

He pauses for a moment, then smirks. “Who else would waste all their time with you if I were too busy with some girl? You’d be all alone. I’m doing you a service by staying single.”

“Please. You and that ego, I swear,” I shake my head. “I have plenty of friends outside of you.”

“I’m the best one, though,” he says, a brow raised with a cocky smile.

I make a face, then splash him once more for good measure.

“That’s it,” he mumbles, tackling me.

I yell a little with a laugh as his arm wraps around my back and drops me onto the bank where the water was scarce. I keep my head propped up as much as I can, though the rest of me is still covered in a little bit of water. It doesn’t help that James is pressing me into the ground.

“Admit it. I am the single greatest person you’ve ever met.”

I laugh again. “In your dreams.”

“Not letting you up until you admit it.”

“Guess we’re stuck here forever, then,” I argue back.

“Guess so,” he says plainly, dropping his full weight on me. I groan, my breath getting squeezed from me. “Best to make myself comfortable, then.”

“You’re so heavy,” I whine.

He chuckles, just quietly observing me for a moment. I tilt my head in question as he doesn’t snark back. He swallows, a small smile still on his face, but a little bit of color now in his cheeks. My eyes widen a little bit.

“Jamie—”

He doesn’t give me a chance to get anything else out, his lips pressing to mine softly. I freeze, in shock at the sudden change of circumstance. My best friend is kissing me. He stays there for a moment, and only pulls away when he realizes I wasn’t kissing him back, his cheeks taking on a deeper shade.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” he shakes his head, looking at me with his lips still parted. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

He gets off of me quickly, getting out of the pond and back to where we left our clothes. He casts a drying spell on himself and starts getting dressed. Meanwhile, I’m still in the water, feeling like I’m stuck. I swallow with a dry throat, turning to see him starting to pull on his pants. I finally get up, quickly moving towards him.

“Jamie—“

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he shakes his head, not looking at me.

I let out a frustrated groan. “We have to talk about that, James.”

“Not right now. Just,” he sighs, looking at me quickly. He takes out his wand again, casting that same drying spell on me. “Get dressed. We don’t want to miss dinner.”

I stare at him for a moment as he continues putting his clothes on, then finally move to get mine on. We finish getting dressed in an uncomfortable silence, that kiss playing on repeat in my mind. Why would he do that?

I look at him when I’m done to see him staring at his shoes, his hands shoved in his pockets. I walk nearer to him, though he takes half a step back when he notices. I furrow my brow.

“Don’t start that.”

“Start what?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“Pulling away from me,” I say, grabbing his arm and tugging him closer to me. “I don’t know what just happened, but I’m not going to lose you as a friend all because you—”

“I’m not pulling away from you,” he rolls his eyes. “I just— I don’t want to… I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

He scoffs. “Right, because there’s nothing embarrassing about trying to kiss your best friend while she looks at you like you’re crazy.”

I sigh. “I just didn’t know what was happening. You’ve never done anything like that before.”

He looks away, chewing at his lip. “Can we just forget about it? I really don’t… I didn’t mean to.”

I fall quiet for a minute, trying to gather my thoughts, but they’re all seeming to escape me. I let go of his arm, taking in a deep breath.

“You know I love you, right?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. I know.”

“Okay. Yeah, we can forget about it,” I nod. “You want to go get dinner, then? I heard a rumor they’ll have those apple tarts you like.”

He looks at me, smiling a little bit. “Yeah?”

I nod again, smiling back. “Would I lie?”

He chuckles a little, nodding towards the way we came into the woods. I start leading the way back out until we see the castle again. He catches up to me at that point.

“Sorry again,” he says quietly.

“About what?” I ask, raising a brow. “All I remember is us swimming around. Unless you’re apologizing for tackling me in the pond, in which case, you’re forgiven only if you get me some chocolate frogs next time we’re in Hogsmeade.”

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Promise I will.”

“Good,” I say, knocking into his shoulder a little.

He nudges me back. Of course. I go a little harder the next time I knock into him, until we’re both practically pushing one another over as we head towards the castle. He gives me a particularly hard shove, barely catching me by the arm before I actually fall to the ground. We’re out of breath from laughing when we finally get to the castle, feeling wonderfully back to normal by the time we reach the Great Hall.

We walk up to the marauders, taking our usual seat across from the three boys.

“Hey,” I greet.

“Where were you two for the past hour?” Sirius asks with a quirked brow.

I snort a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would, considering we saw you wander off into the forest,” he says, leaning forward on his arms with a smirk.

I roll my eyes. ���None of your business.”

“Always so secretive,” Remus says, stabbing a few potatoes on his fork before looking between us.

I glance at James who laughs as soon as we make eye contact. Though, I also catch another pair of eyes when I turn towards him, and wince a little. Lily looks at me with her brows furrowed from a little ways down the table. I shrug at her, unsure why she looks upset with me. She rolls her eyes, going back to her conversation with Dorcas. I sigh.

“Great. Now Lily’s mad at me because you had to go and turn her down,” I say to James.

Peter laughs. “He turned her down?”

“When did this happen?” Remus asks, looking much more curious now.

“You need to learn how to shut it,” James says to me, his voice a little high as he shakes his head.

“They would’ve found out anyways,” I say, barely feeling sorry at all.

I hold back from chuckling as James is pelted with questions from the boys, focusing more on my food and trying to ignore the occasional sour glance I get from Lily.

Though, I couldn’t escape her forever.

I walked into my room after a night of sitting around with the boys and Marlene in the common room. I thought I would be going to bed and falling asleep, but clearly it was wishful thinking. Lily stared at me from her bed as Marlene and I shut the door behind us.

I raised a brow. “Hi?”

Marlene looked between us, excusing herself to take a shower. The traitor.

“What the hell?” Lily said, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, what the hell? Why have you been giving me sour looks all day?”

She scoffed. “You told me to tell him, and you know what he did? Oh. Wait, of course you know. Because of course he already told you. Because of course—”

“Oh my god, Lily,” I roll my eyes, going to sit on my bed next to hers. “I’m sorry that I was wrong about how he’d react, but I had no clue. I thought he still had a thing for you.”

She huffs a sigh. “I should’ve known you were setting me up. What, do you like to see me embarrassed?”

“If I did, I would’ve gone along to watch it happen,” I say, annoyed at her attitude. “Sorry I was wrong, but I didn’t know. And you said you wanted to tell him, anyways.”

“You don’t seem to be that sorry considering you were back to hanging around him again all day.”

“He’s my best friend, Lily. I’m not going to ditch him because he didn’t have feelings for you,” I say, shaking my head.

She stands up suddenly. “Well, maybe you should. Maybe if you weren’t like… In love with him, you’d be a better friend to me.”

I stare at her in annoyance. “You need to get a grip. I wouldn’t have encouraged you to try telling him if I was ‘in love’ with him. We’re friends. You’re being insane.”

“Well, clearly he at least has feelings for you!”

I furrow my brow. “Excuse me?”

“Why else would he reject me?”

I laugh against my better judgement. “Are you serious? One boy doesn’t like you, so it just has to be because he’s in love with someone else? Lily, I love you, but that is the most egotistical thing you’ve ever said.”

“But you’re not denying it.”

“James isn’t in love with me. Have you considered that he just doesn’t like you anymore? It happens. People move on,” I say, sighing. “Just… Go to bed, Lily. This is a ridiculous and pointless argument.”

I lay back on my bed, closing my eyes while I wait to get into the bathroom. I hear Lily mutter something under her breath, but choose to ignore it. The more she got angry with me, the less I cared that she got her feelings hurt. I didn’t want to be unsympathetic, but it was getting hard to be concerned when I was blamed for a boy not liking her. Obviously James didn’t like me.

Obviously.

I think.

He did kiss me.

I open my eyes, staring at the ceiling for a moment. James didn’t like me, did he? He’d never shown interest in me before. That kiss probably just happened because he was confused. He wanted to forget about it, anyways, so clearly that had to mean he didn’t mean it. And I didn’t feel that way about him anyways, so it didn’t matter.

Except, I did feel my heart pound a little differently when he looked at me before the kiss.

I didn’t hate the way his lips felt.

Seeing him smile at me on the walk back did give me a few butterflies.

But, no. That’s nothing. He’s my best friend, I wouldn’t suddenly start feeling that way about him. I couldn’t. It’d be ridiculous.

It’s not like I’d spend the rest of the night thinking about him. Except that I did. A lot.

I woke up the next morning, feeling like I was going insane. I’d never felt that way about him before. Of course, I always though he was attractive. How could anybody look at him and not think he was gorgeous? But there was never anything more besides friendship. So why could I not stop thinking about him?

My eyes feel heavy as I sit in my last class of the day, James trying repeatedly to mess with me throughout the class. With five minutes left, he leans in closer. Since when did he start smelling so good?

“Hey,” he says quietly, drawing my attention. “What’s wrong? You’re not getting mad at me.”

“Just tired, Jamie,” I shrug, staring at the notes on the chalkboard that I haven’t copied down.

“That’s a lie. I can tell.”

I sigh. “Have you ever… Has anyone ever told you something about yourself that you thought wasn’t true, and then… And then you realize they might be right?”

He furrows his brows. “How do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Like, let’s say someone tells you that you like strawberries, when you’ve never liked strawberries. But then you think about every time you’ve had a strawberry, and you realize that you actually really did like strawberries. A lot more than you thought you did. Like… you realize strawberries are your favorite fruit.”

He stares with a confused look, tilting his head. He reaches up, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.

“Are you feeling alright?”

I lean away from him, rolling my eyes. “Cut it out.”

He smiles, nudging me slightly. “Can’t say I’ve had that experience, no.”

I groan. “This sucks.”

“Why can’t you just tell me what actually happened?” he asks. He pouts. “Please?”

I smile at him, trying hard to be annoyed, but finding it difficult. God, I’m in trouble.

“I just can’t. It’s… private.”

“You never keep secrets from me.”

“I don’t even know what secret I’m keeping just yet,” I sigh, resting my chin in my hand. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Aw,” he coos. “You say that like you aren’t already.”

I push him, laughing softly, though we both straighten up when the professor reprimands us. We give a quick apology, still smirking at each other the next time we catch one another’s eye.

The next days pass by in a blur as I come to terms with what I’ve been feeling. It doesn’t help that I couldn’t talk to anyone, especially since Lily was still mad at me. Now, though, I couldn’t blame her as much. She somehow realized I was into him before I did.

“Hey,” Remus says, coming up to me as I sit in the common room. “It’s late. Why are you still here?”

“Why are you?”

He shrugs, sitting next to me. “Can’t sleep. Moon’s coming in a couple days.”

I hum in acknowledgement. “Gotcha.”

He settles into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks sideways at me as I stare into the fire.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Cause I can’t tell anybody.”

He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You’ve been off for days. James keeps complaining about how you’re not spending time with him as much.”

I shake my head, not responding.

“You need to talk to someone about this.”

“Can’t.”

“Bullshit.”

I look at him. “Seriously. I can’t talk to Jamie about it, Lily’s still mad at me, and Marls and Dorcas are too gossipy.”

“You can talk to me,” he shrugs.

“You wouldn’t get it, though.”

“Try me.”

I let out a breath. “You have to promise this stays a secret.”

He nods. “Promise.”

“Okay,” I say under my breath. “Okay. So, um, Lily got really mad at me the other day because of the whole…. Confession thing. And I didn’t understand why, and she started accusing me of things, and obviously I disagreed… But then something she said kind of stuck with me.”

“She’s just mad. Don’t listen to her,” Remus says, shaking his head. “You know how she gets when she’s in one of those moods.”

“But I think she was kind of right,” I sigh. “That’s the problem. She thinks… She told me she thought I was into James. And not like friends, like really into him.”

Remus’s eyes widen a little. “And… are you?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for the past week, and… I think I might be.”

“Whoa. I know we always tease you two for how close you are, but I never thought you…”

“I know,” I groan, my face in my hands. “And I know I haven’t been hanging out with him as much as usual because of it, but I don’t know what to do. How do you tell your best friend that you suddenly realized you’re in love with him?”

He doesn’t answer, just reaches over and gives me a hug. I accept it, sighing a little.

Our next week goes over just like that. I don’t avoid James by any means, but I try not to always be alone with him. I do find more opportunities to talk with Remus about it all, though, and it helps. Just to have someone to listen to me as I complain about my feelings. I do the same for him when he has troubles, though mine seem silly in comparison. He always tells me not to compare, though.

Unfortunately, though, as much as those chats help me process my feelings, they don’t help me get over those feelings at all. If anything, they only grow the more I think about James.

It’s super annoying.

Even more annoying is Lily’s smug look when I tell her about my feelings for James. I expected her to be mad at me, but she did something worse: she laughed at me.

“I knew it!”

“How? I didn’t know!”

“Because you are so obvious,” she shakes her head.

I scoff. “I’m clearly not that obvious or else you wouldn’t have told me you had a crush on him.”

“Alright. Fair enough,” she quirks a brow. “But still.”

I roll my eyes, walking over to hug her.

“Sorry about that. If I knew I had a crush on him I wouldn’t have told you to go for him.”

“Sorry back,” she says. “Shouldn’t have gotten mad at you that he told me no.”

“I agree,” I laugh.

She whacks me in the arm, laughing back.

I try to go about my life as usual over the next couple of weeks. There’s no sense in making myself miserable or drawing attention to my small shift in behavior. I find myself still doing most of the same things I always did. Just a bit more carefully.

I sit with the boys at dinner, laughing at their stupid jokes and the plans they have for pranks. I finish my food, pushing the plate away from me, and listening in on a conversation being had between Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

“You know, those three plan on being out all night,” James says quietly, leaning close to me as he watches the three boys talk.

I raise a brow. “Yeah? Doing what?”

“They wanted to just be out of the castle for the night. Think Sirius and Remus are going to the shrieking shack, and Peter is sneaking out to go meet up with some other friends in Hogsmeade, I guess.”

“And you aren’t running off?”

He shakes his head. “Told them I’d stay behind. Thought me and you could have a sleepover. Like old times.”

I chuckle. “It has been a while.”

“I think close to a year. They’re always in my space,” he says, feigning annoyance. “But it’ll just be us tonight, if you want.”

I push down whatever feeling rises in my chest at that and agree, despite my better judgement.

He pulls me into his room that night, immediately going to the foot of his bed, looking at me like he’s about to change my life.

“I brought something a little… fun,” he smiles, opening up his trunk to show me his secret stash of drinks. “Thought we might finally crack it open.”

I laugh. “And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?���

“Hey, we’ve had plenty at the Gryffindor events,” he smiles. “This is just for us. Our secret.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m the greatest.”

We find ourselves on his floor after a few drinks, feeling fuzzy and happy. We talk about nothing for hours, occasionally passing a bottle between us.

“Maybe we should do this more often,” he says, smiling up at the ceiling. “I miss spending time with you like this.”

“We’re always together.”

“You spend a lot of time with Moony lately. Not fair, I want you all to myself,” he chuckles, poking my side.

I laugh, poking him back. “I’m still all yours. Love Moony so much, but you’re still my favorite I think. Now, if Sirius decided to start hanging around me more, then you’d be in trouble.”

He giggles, his cheeks rosy. I watch him carefully, feeling warm in the face myself, but for a different reason.

“You have a really cute laugh,” I say before I can think about it.

He looks at me with a smile, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nod.

“You’ve never told me that before.”

I shrug. “I should’ve.”

He stares back at me for a moment, giving me a little silly smile. He leans over me, propping himself up with his forehead next to my head. He leans down, much like he did that day we went swimming. But this time I kiss him back. My hand finds his cheek, holding him gently as I let him work his lips against mine. I can’t deny the warmth that spreads over me or the butterflies I feel this time.

This time it lasts for a few minutes, neither of us bothering to pull away. Whether that’s because he actually likes it or because we’re both drunk and don’t know any better, I don’t know. I also don’t care.

He finally pulls away after a little while, still giving me that smile as if he didn’t just take all the air in my lungs away from me.

“We can pretend that one didn’t happen, either,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, unsure what to say. I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen, but I couldn’t tell him that without outing myself. I settle for the way his hand mindlessly reaches for mine as we go back into conversation like nothing ever interrupted us in the first place. Eventually, we move to his bed, preferring the softness of the mattress and pillows over the hard ground.

“Can I ask why you’ve been spending all your time with Remus?” he asks during a lull in the conversation, playing with my fingers as he does.

“Just became better friends recently, I guess,” I say, glancing at him. I admire his face for a moment before snapping out of it. “Some stuff I can talk to him about that I haven’t been able to tell anyone else. It’s been nice to have someone to listen.”

“I could do that for you. You didn’t have to go to him.”

“Not this time, Jamie. It’s… different.”

“How?”

“It just is,” I sigh. “I’ve had too much to drink for us to be having this conversation, James.”

He whines. “Please? I just want to know.”

“No. Maybe I’ll tell you someday, but not now.”

He grumbles, turning over and resting his head on my chest. His arm rests over my stomach. I just hope and pray he doesn’t feel how hard my heart starts beating when he does.

“Play with my hair?” he asks, his voice a little muffled.

“Okay,” I reply softly, running my fingers through his messy hair. “This okay?”

He nods a little. “Mhm. Thanks.”

We don’t wake up until the next morning, still stuck in that same position.

I find myself with Remus again the following night. I sit on a chair, and he lounges on the couch, trying not to judge me for putting myself in that situation. I don’t tell him about the kiss, but he hears about everything else.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” he says after a beat of silence when I finish explaining. “You either need to tell him, or put some distance between you.”

“I tried that today.”

“I know,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s all James could talk about. Complaining the whole day that you weren’t eating with us or not going to the library when we were.”

“See? I feel like nothing I do is right in this situation,” I say, feeling defeated. “Like, how am I supposed to keep spending time with him like everything’s normal when I’m practically floating every time he so much as looks at me. It’s pathetic. And I can’t just ignore him, cause then he goes and bugs you all.”

“Maybe you just need to—”

“Hey,” James’s voice calls from behind us.

I look at him, noticing the annoyed look on his face. It doesn’t seem like he’s overheard us, but I can’t tell why he looks so irritated. Usually he’d be annoyed if I didn’t bother with them all day, but he looks… mad. I quirk a brow.

“Hey,” I say, confused.

He doesn’t reply, looking a little upset and a little lost. I turn back to Remus after a moment of silence, our conversation effectively being cut short. I stand up quickly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to Remus, starting to walk past James in order to get to my room.

“What’s going on?” James asks, grabbing my upper arm.

I turn around quickly. “What?”

He clenches his jaw, then looks at Remus. “Moony, we need a minute.”

Remus goes to argue, but drops it quickly when he sees James looking more serious than he ever has. He gets up, giving me a sympathetic look before he heads towards the boys’ dorms. I glare at James as he hasn’t let go of my arm yet.

“Why did you do that?”

“Why are you with him again?”

I scoff. “You mean our friend? Did you ever think maybe we were talking?”

“That’s the problem,” he says, dropping my arm.

“How is that a problem? I’m going through something and he’s just trying to help—”

He sighs harshly, looking around like he’s lost. He looks back at me with his brows furrowed.

“I don’t get it,” he says, practically whining. “You never keep things from me, and now you’re telling Moony all of your secrets and ditching me for him and… And I don’t understand it. We’re supposed to be best friends.”

“We are, Jamie, there’s just some things that I can’t—”

“Why not?” he swallows, tears starting to prick his eyes. “Why can’t you tell me? You never do this. We tell each other everything.”

I freeze for a moment, my mouth drying up as I look at him. I want to reach out for him and hold him and make him feel better. But I also want answers, because it’s his fault that everything got screwed up. He didn’t have to reject Lily. He didn’t have to kiss me when we were swimming. He didn’t have to do it again on his bedroom floor. He didn’t have to treat me like I was the most important person in his life.

“Then tell me why you kissed me,” I blurt out.

He shakes his head a little. “I don’t know.”

“Then figure it out! You don’t just get to kiss me and then act like you just did it for no reason.”

His chest heaved from his breathing, staring at me. His cheeks tinged pink again as he took a moment.

“I—I just wanted to. I don’t know. You were there and you were looking at me like that and you just…” he huffed a sigh. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

“Why?” I asked, frustrated.

“Because,” he said back, his tone matching mine. “Because I always want to kiss you and I slipped up and did it one time—”

“You did it twice!”

“Okay! Two times,” he exclaims. “We promised we would just forget about it.”

“And what exactly is that even supposed to mean?”

“You’re so fucking oblivious,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “God, what do I have to do to make you understand that I’m—”

I wait as he stops talking. “That you’re what?”

“I’m in love with you. I have been forever, and you’ve never cared,” he says, letting out a shuddering breath. “And now you’re spending all of your time with Remus. And it’s so embarrassing that I’m sat here hopelessly in love with my best friend of over ten years while she’s running around with another one of our friends.”

“Running around with him? We sit in the common room and talk because you’re fucking infuriating!”

“Oh, so you’re gossiping about me?” he asks, voice raising as mine does once again.

“Not gossiping, just—”

“Just what?”

“I’m in love with you, too, you fucking tosser!”

He looks angry for a few moments, then it switches to confusion, then shock, and possibly the five stages of grief before he finally lands on raised brows and an open mouth.

“You what?” he exclaims.

“You’re so annoying,” I say, groaning. “Yeah, Lily had to go and tell me I was in love with you, and she always has to be fucking right about everything, doesn’t she?”

“Are you listening to yourself right now?” he asks incredulously, furrowing his brows. “You just told me you loved me.”

“I’m aware, James,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Well… Did you mean it?”

“Obviously,” I say, shaking my head at him like it was a dumb question.

“You’re so dumb,” he says under his breath.

Before I can say anything else, he’s moving forward, his hands on my cheeks as he crashes his lips into mine. I melt into him, this kiss being way more passionate than the one we shared the night before. I hold onto his waist, letting him deepen the kiss, though it only lasts for a minute or two after that.

He pulls away. “You’re infuriating. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You didn’t tell me anything, either!”

“I kissed you twice!”

I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t count. You said we should forget about both times.”

“Only cause I thought that’s what you’d want,” he defends, making an annoyed face.

I try to be angry, but it’s a difficult task. I reach up, running a thumb over his furrowed eyebrows.

“So grumpy,” I mutter. “Just told you I was in love with you. You’d think you’d at least try to be happy.”

He scoffs a laugh, pulling me into a hug, his face buried in my neck.

“I’ve never been happier.”

We hear footsteps coming down a few moments later.

“You owe me ten galleons,” Sirius’s voice says.

I look over James’s shoulder as he keeps holding onto me, not caring that our friends are right there.

“You were betting on us?” I ask.

Sirius nods with a smirk. “And Peter just lost. He thought you’d take until the end of the year to get together. I said it’d be in this term.”

“I didn’t bet,” Remus says from behind Sirius, holding his hands up in surrender with a small smile. “Glad you worked it out, though.”

I smile at them, shaking my head and turning my attention back on James again. He looks at me finally.

“I’m glad, too,” he says quietly. “Think I might’ve combusted if I had to keep pretending I didn’t want you like that.”

“Didn’t do a great job at covering for it, though. Still kissed me twice.”

“You say like you didn’t love it,” he smirks with a wink.

————-> SMUT STARTS HERE. 18+ <-————

James finally pulls away, taking my hand in his.

“Good, now that you’re all out the room, if you’ll excuse us…” he says, pulling me past the boys who all groan in disgust.

I giggle as he practically runs to his room with my hand in his, kissing me the second the door is shut and locked. I smile into the kiss, my arms around his neck. He starts kissing my cheek and jaw after a few minutes.

“Hope you’ve been feeling the tension as much as I have, cause I could probably cum in my pants right now if you asked me to,” he says casually, as if it wouldn’t send a wave of arousal down my body.

“Oh my…” I trail off as he bites at my neck softly. “Are we gonna…?”

He pauses, his eyes wide. “Oh. I probably should’ve asked before I assumed, huh?”

He winces a little at his own excitement, cheeks tinged pink.

“Sorry.”

I smile softly. “That’s okay. I— I want to, I just didn’t know if that’s what the plan was.”

He smiles again brightly, kissing me once more. He giggled against my lips, then starts backing me towards the bed.

“I really do love you. Kind of embarrassing, really. I think I have forever,” he says softly, laying me down on the mattress and crawling over me.

I let out a soft breath. “Embarrassing for me, I think. I didn’t even realize until someone else told me I did.”

He laughs again, starting to kiss down my neck.

“I kind of always wanted you to be my first time, to be honest,” he says against my skin.

I pause, realizing what’s really happening. “Oh. Oh my god.”

“What?” he asks, leaning up to start unbuttoning my shirt.

“Wait, have you never… You haven’t done this either, have you?”

“Not all the way,” he shakes his head, then looks at me with wide eyes. “Is that okay?”

“That’s okay. I haven’t either. Just… You know. I’ve done some hand stuff but that was it.”

He looks at me again, then starts laughing a little. I find myself laughing right back as reality sets in for both of us.

“We’re gonna take each others virginity,” I say, still laughing a little. “Oh my god.”

He snorts a laugh. “Didn’t wake up this morning thinking this would happen, that’s for certain.”

I smile. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he teases, dropping a kiss on the tip of my nose.

I watch as he finishes taking off my shirt, getting up just enough to help him pull it and my camisole off completely. He sits back on his knees, staring at me for a moment.

“You alright, Jamie?”

He nods. “Doing great, love.”

He starts taking off his own shirt, then. As many times as I’d seen his arms and chest, you’d think I wouldn’t still feel amazed seeing him in just his trousers… But I couldn’t stop staring, either. He leaned back in, kissing me again. I let my hands run over his arms and back, having free reign to do so and enjoying it. He nipped at my lip, a little noise leaving me and making him smile against my lips. I do the same to him, both of us ending up grinning at each other again.

“This is nice,” I say quietly. “Doing this with you, it’s nice. I like that we don’t feel like we have to act… sexy.”

“Well, that because it’s never an act for me, love,” he winks with a smirk.

I pull him back down with a giggle, though the smile is wiped from my face when he rolls his hips into mine. Feeling him hard for me for the first time leaves me a little breathless, especially when he’s grinding into me. I small groan leaves me when he does it again.

“Like it when you do that,” he says into my ear, doing it again just to get another reaction out of me. “I like those little sounds you make. So pretty.”

I find myself breathing heavily, my hands squeezing between our bodies to start unbuckling his belt. He gets the hint and sits up, pulling it off himself.

“Get out of those, yeah?” he says, nodding at my bottoms as he works himself out of his.

I comply immediately, shimmying out of my trousers and tossing them onto the ground. He gets back on top of me as soon as we’re both one layers closer to what we really want. I let my hand slide into his underwear as he stars kissing at my neck again, letting out a shuddering breath when I finally feel him. He whimpers into my neck as I start stroking him, rutting his hips into my hand.

“Feel so good, love,” he says, voice whiny and desperate.

I groan back, especially as one of his hands slides under the band of my panties to slip a finger into me. I feel myself growing hotter, kissing him and swallowing the moans he lets out as my hand keeps working him over.

“Shit, Jamie,” I moan as he adds a second finger.

“Good for you?” he breathes out.

“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Yes. Very.”

I whine as he gets me closer to the edge, his hips doing all the work as my hand stopped moving up and down his length. He adds pressure to my clit with his thumb, sending me careening over the edge with praises and his name on my lips.

He pulls his hand away from me suddenly.

“Can’t wait any longer, love,” he says, voice wrecked.

He slides my panties off my legs as I take my bra off. Then, I watch with wide eyes as he pulls his underwear off, his cock bigger than I was expecting by far. I knew he felt big, but seeing him was entirely different.

“Fuck,” I say, staring at him. “Don’t know if I can take that, Jamie.”

“Yeah, you can, love,” he nods, settling between my legs and kissing me softly. “You can take it, baby.”

He pushes himself up just enough for both of us to see him rubbing his head through my slick before prodding at my entrance. He starts pushing in slowly. I let out a loud groan, my eyes shutting.

“Shh, just relax, love,” he says, lips hovering over mine. “You’re doing so good. Taking it so well, baby.”

He whimpers against my lips as he keeps pushing in slowly.

“So big, Jamie,” I moan, watching him disappear inside of me.

“I know, baby,” he says, a few more little noises spilling from his mouth. “I know, but you’re being so good. My good girl.”

He bottoms out, both of us panting and holding onto each other as I adjust to the new feeling. It hurts a little, but not in a bad way. Especially when he starts moving. That bit of pain makes way for a lot of pleasure once he starts rocking into me at a steady pace, whining and moaning into my ear.

“S’good, Jamie. You feel so good,” I say, trying to catch my breath.

“So good for me, baby. Squeezing me nice,” he whines, pinning me down under the weight of his body. “Good girl. So proud of you taking me so well.”

“Gonna cum again,” I say, feeling it building in my stomach again.

“Me too, baby. Just a little more,” he says, pressing his face into my neck again. “Don’t want to be done so soon, but you feel so perfect. You’re so good for me.”

I moan at his ramblings of praise, his words only causing me to get closer to that peak again. I hold onto him tightly, my body wrapped around his as he fucks into me like we’d done it a million times before. I speak his name over and over and over again as I crash down, my eyes rolling back from the intensity of the orgasm, and the fact that he doesn’t stop fucking me through it.

Though, near the end of my peak, he moans out a hundred more praises, my name falling from his lips as I feel him fill me up with his cum. He whimpers again against my skin as he finishes, not stopping the movement of his hips until he’s visibility overstimulated.

We breathe heavily, holding onto one another tightly as we come down from our highs, his hair sticking to his forehead as he leans in to kiss me softly again.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “You’re perfect.”

I breathe out, a small smile on my face. “You… Yeah. Oh my god. I thought the first time was supposed to be bad.”

“It was perfect for me. But I barely lasted, it couldn’t have been that great for you,” he says, looking a little disappointed that he might not have done a good job for me.

I shake my head. “You still made me come harder than I ever have. You were incredible, Jamie. I mean it.”

He smiles softly. “I’m gonna have to kick them out of here more often. I might be addicted now.”

“And we have more things to try,” I add. “Can’t let this happen only once a week or something. Too much to figure out, I think.”

He giggles again. “Like what?”

“I’d really like you in my mouth next time.”

His smile drops. He starts nodding quickly. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll kick them out at two in the morning if you ask. Whatever you want.”

I laugh, pulling him into another kiss.

“Now, we have to figure out that contraceptive spell, or else we might be in some trouble,” I say with a smile.

“Sorry about that,” he smirks, clearly not sorry. “I’m sure Sirius knows it.”

“Please. As if he isn’t fucking Remus whenever those two run off to the shrieking shack.”

James’s eyes widen. “What?”

I snort a laugh.

“And you called me the oblivious one.”

[sugugasm]

“YES MA’AM? . . MORE LIKE YES MOMMY ! ” | jjk + aot

⟡ tags : sukuna + toji + gojo + nanami — a compilation of your favs and how they submit to you . . . content includes positions such as rimming, begging, thigh humping, handjob, blowjob, overstim??, size kink, bondage, pet names used ‘bby, pretty boy, mommy,’ etc. MDNI 19+ 8.0K WC

SUKUNA | bondage + slight handjob + cunninlingus

“oi, princess — gonna’ sit there all night or get this shit over with already?” sukuna questions you, who’s sitting rather delightfully for someone who knew damn well they were in a work of trouble after all this was over with, and as much as he would’ve loved to be the one to end this little power trip you were on, there were some . . obstacles in the way.

to name a few of those said obstacles : the infamous king was currently in a little bit of a knot, muscles on display as his usual mischievous smirk was now being replaced by a rather adorable scowl. his strong arms were bound behind his back, ropes digging into his skin all over — and oh! his thick dick, around 9-ish inches, standing proud and tall against his stomach, thumping every time you came near him. you knew he hated this - more than anything, but to see him surrendering, succumbing to you and only you . .

it was definitely something you’d take a few extra spanks to the ass for later.

“my, my . . don’t go gettin’ all bossy on me, kuna. are you forgetting who’s in charge?” you whisper near his ear, moving a hand to stroke his shaft slowly. you were like a shark scenting blood in water the way your hand began to move in circles, “look at you . .”

his eyes flashed with indignation even as his cock jumped at your words, flushed and leaking against his chiseled abdomen. “i should tear you from limb to limb for this — just for the fun of it, really.”

you chuckled darkly, fisting a hand in his hair and yanking his head back. “you should . . but you won’t. right? because deep down, you want to submit to me, don’t you, sukuna? wanna’ be brought to heel, made to beg and plead for release . .”

he snarled wordlessly but didn't deny it, straining against his bonds. you could see the conflict in his eyes, immense pride warring with dark, forbidden desire. slowly, testing, you trailed your fingers down his heaving chest, once again skimming teasingly light over his throbbing erection. he twitched, a strangled groan escaping through his gritted teeth. “just give in,” you coaxed silkily, cupping his heavy sack, rolling it in your palm. “surrender to me and i’ll make you feel so good, better than you ever imagined . .”

he glared up at you from the chair, mutinously but you could feel his resolve crumbling. grinding his jaw, he gave a single, jerky nod. triumph and dark arousal surged through you. the king of curses, deadly and proud, was yours to command.

unhurriedly, you stripped off your thin robe and kicked it aside. his corvine eyes raked over your bare form, pupils blown with lust. “open,” you instructed, stepping close and fisting his hair again. obediently, he parted his lips, letting you guide his face to your aching center.

the first hot swipe of his tongue between your folds made you gasp and shudder. he lapped at you again, more firmly, clearly savoring your taste. “that’s it,” you praised breathlessly, grinding against his face. “finally put that mouth to good use, make me drip all over you, yeah?”

he snarled into your cunt, tongue delving deeper, flicking over your throbbing clit. you keened, yanking at his hair as shocks of pleasure radiated through you. he licked and sucked voraciously, making obscene wet sounds as he ate you out. the fact that he was just about on his damn knees, servicing you, nearly undid you all on its own. “f-fuck, kuna,” you whined, head thrown back as he tongue-fucked your entrance, rubbing his nose against your clit. “jus’ like that, don’t stop, gonna’ c-cum, baby . .”

he moaned into you, doubling his efforts, devouring your cunt like a man starved. your thighs shook, stomach tightening as you hurtled towards your peak. you felt his teeth graze your clit and you shattered with a sharp cry, gushing into his eager mouth as you came — and he lapped up every drop, working you through the aftershocks until you had to push his head away, too sensitive. panting, you looked down at him, taking in his glossy, slick chin and wild, feverish eyes. “such a good boy,” you purred, thumbing over his wet, swollen lips. “i think you’ve earned a reward . .”

TOJI | blowjob + handcuffs lol :3

“color?” you checked as you finished securing toji’s cuffs to the headboard, sitting back to survey your handiwork.

“green,” he rasped immediately, testing the bonds. they held fast, keeping him splayed beneath you, entirely at your mercy. “very fuckin’ green.”

you smiled, trailing light fingers down his chest, teasing his dusky nipples. “good. y’know what to say if it gets to be too much.”

he shook his head stubbornly even as he arched into your touch with a bitten-off groan. “won’t need to. i can take anything you dish out.”

“mhmm, we’ll see about that,” you mused, pinching and tugging at his sensitive nubs until he was writhing. “by the time m’ done, you’ll be all fucked out.”

he shuddered, cock twitching where it lay thick and flushed against his abs, leaking steadily. “do your worst, sweetheart,” he goaded, eyes sparking challenge. grinning fiercely, you set about taking him apart with hands and mouth, mapping every ridge and valley of his powerful body. you traced the v cut of his hips with your tongue, mouthed teasingly at his inner thighs, ghosted hot breath over his aching cock. he cursed and bucked beneath you, muscles bunching and straining uselessly against the metal cuffs as you worked him into a frenzy.

“oh god . . fuck, [ ★ ], please,” he finally burst out as you lapped kitten-ishly at his weeping cockhead. “s-stop teasin’ me, baby!”

“i told you you’d beg, didn’t i?” you asked smugly, swirling your tongue around his throbbing cock. “ask me nicely for what you want, toji. maybe i’ll give it to you . .”

he threw his head back with a tortured groan, tendons standing out in stark relief as he fought his body's demands. “please,” he grated out. “please suck my cock. i need your mouth on me so bad —” you cut him off by swallowing him down to the hilt in one swift motion, nose nestling in his wiry curls. “a-agh, fuck!” he shouted, hips jerking instinctively, trying to fuck into your tight, wet throat. you held his bucking hips down easily, working him hard and fast, just the way he liked.

“fuck, baby, y-yes,” he babbled, head thrashing on the pillow. “god, your mouth, so fuckin’ good t’me . . m’not gonna’ last like this.”

you pulled off long enough to rasp out, “then don’t. i want to taste you, want you to come for me,” before sinking back down on him, humming around his thickness. toji cried out brokenly as his orgasm crashed into him, pulsing hot and bitter over your tongue. you worked him through it greedily, milking him until he was twitching and gasping from the intensity. when you finally released him, he was flushed and glassy - eyed, chest heaving as he came down.

“told you i could take it,” he slurred, a loopy half-smile tugging at his lips.

“aww, baby,” you whispered wickedly, crawling up his body to hover over him. “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”

SATORU | rimming + toru calls you mommy

“tell me what you want,” you murmured as you trailed open-mouthed kisses down satoru’s quivering tummy, fingertips skimming teasingly light over his trembling inner thighs. “i’ll give you anything, everything, jus’ tell me . .”

he whined low in his throat, hips canting up needily as you breathed hot over his rigid cock, lips a mere whisper from his fevered skin. “please, [★], i need . .” he babbled, voice high and thready with desperation. “i need you inside me, opening me up, fucking m-me deep. please, please, please . .”

“shhh, i’ve got you love,” you soothed, pressing a kiss to his dripping cockhead even as you circled a slick finger around his fluttering rim. “jus’ relax for me, let me take care of you, honey.” — and he did, head lolling back and thighs falling open wantonly as you carefully breached him, sinking your finger into his clutching hole. he was so soft and smooth inside, muscles gripping your digit hungrily as you started a gentle in and out rhythm.

his cock twitched and leaked against his belly, untouched, as you worked him open reverently, carefully adding a second finger when he was pliant enough. he moaned brokenly, bearing down on the stretch and burn, greedy for more. “y-yes, like that,” he panted, hands fisting in the sheets. “fuck, it feels so good, mommy . .”

“i know, i know . . you’re such a good boy, huh? letting me touch you like this, letting me relax you,” you coo, and on that note, you twisted your wrist, crooking your fingers just right, and satoru jolted like he’d been nearly electrocuted, a ragged shout tearing from his throat.

“t-there!” he cried out, back arching clear off the mattress. “oh fuck, [★], right there, please!” you aimed for that spot mercilessly, milking his prostate with every push and pull of your hand. he was babbling wordlessly now, head thrashing on the pillow, legs shaking and stomach muscles fluttering as his pleasure mounted.

you knew he was close when his cock started to twitch and jerk against his belly, drooling copiously. anticipation coiled hot and tight in your gut as you fingered him faster, pressing hard on that secret bundle of nerves. “c’mon, toru,” you coaxed breathlessly, transfixed by the erotic sight of him. “let go for me, cum on mommy’s fingers.”

satoru does as he’s told, back bowing nearly in half as his orgasm ripped through him with a strangled cry of your name. hot ropes of pearly cum striped his chest and abs as he pulsed and clenched rhythmically around your fingers, milking them for all he was worth. you gentled him through the aftershocks, drawing out his pleasure until he was boneless and trembling, floating in post orgasmic bliss.

slowly, you withdrew your fingers, ignoring his whimper of loss. “you did so well,” you praised, kissing his slack, parted lips. “my perfect boy. think you can get it up for me one more time? wanna’ feel it splitting me open . .”

NANAMI | face sitting + he rides your thigh

nanami knelt naked and trembling, lean muscles pulled taut in anticipation as he waited for your next command. his hard, flushed cock jutted proudly from between his powerful thighs, dripping steadily onto the carpet. you’d been teasing him for what felt like hours, keeping him on a razor’s edge of pleasure and pain, never quite letting him find relief in any way at all.

“baby,” he finally rasped, voice scraped raw from begging. “please, [★], i need you.”

“mm-mm, tell me, kento,” you demanded, pacing around his kneeling form slowly. “tell me exactly what you need.”

he shuddered bodily, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “i-i need to cum, please, i’ll do anything, just let me cum — i can’t take anymore . .”

“hmmm.” you pretended to consider, though arousal simmered molten in your veins at his desperate plea. “you beg so pretty, baby. maybe . . maybe you’ve earned it, whaddo’ya say?”

“y-yeah, yes, yes,” he babbled, hope and relief suffusing his handsome face. “i’ll be so good for you, i swear, just tell me what you want from me -”

“your mouth,” you interrupted, fisting a hand in his hair and tugging his head back, baring the strong column of his throat. “i wanna’ ride your face til’ i cum, paint you in me. and if you do a good job, i’ll let you hump my thigh like the desperate slut you are until you make a mess all over both of us. how does that sound?”

“absolutely fucking perfect,” he breathed, pupils blown wide and dark with need. “anything, i want to taste you, wanna’ be soaked in you, sweetheart . .” you didn’t need to hear much further, moaning low in your throat, you sank down fully, your fingers weaving into his thick hair as smothered his face between your thighs. he immediately sealed his hot mouth over your dripping sex, lapping at you broad and greedy. you cried out sharply, hips rocking into the perfect pressure, luxuriating in the wet sounds of his enthusiasm.

he licked deep into your core, nose nudging your throbbing clit, hitting all your most sensitive spots with unerring accuracy. familiar heat started coiling deep in your belly as he worked you relentlessly, taking you apart with lips and tongue and just a hint of teeth.

“oh fuck, kento, s’ s’good . .” you gasped, grinding shamelessly against his face, chasing your pleasure. “you’re s’good for me, so perfect — m’getting close!”

he groaned into your cunt, doubling his efforts, tongue fluttering hummingbird-quick over your clit as he finger fucked your hungry cunt. your thighs quaked, pressure building to an impossible crescendo deep inside. you were already just seconds from shattering apart. then he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made your vision white out as he sucked hard on your aching nub, and you were gone. completely gone. back arching, breath seizing, you came with a hoarse cry, gushing slick over his face and fingers as exquisite pleasure crashed through you in relentless waves.

he worked you through it, drawing out your peak until you were too sensitive and had to push him away weakly. panting, you looked down at him, his chin and cheeks glazed with your essence, eyes fever-bright as he stared up at you in awe. “was that - was i good?” he croaked, lips and chin shiny with your juices.

“so good,” you assured him, thumbing over his swollen mouth before bringing your slick fingers to your own lips for an indulgent taste. “now come here and take what you need. you've earned it.”

groaning brokenly, he surged up to wrap his arms around your hips desperately, rutting his painfully hard cock against your thigh. you held him steady as he took his pleasure, hips snapping frantically, chasing his long-awaited release.

“that’s it, kento,” you cooed, carding your fingers through his sweaty hair as he panted and mewled into your neck. “fuck my thigh just like that, get it all wet n’ filthy with your cum . .”

his broken sob was muffled against your throat as he finally let go, pulsing hot and messy between your bodies as he came completely untouched. you gentled him through it, murmuring praise and reassurance as he shook and gasped and clutched you like a lifeline.

after long moments, he gradually calmed, breath evening out. you continued to stroke his hair, his back, holding him close in the warm afterglow.

“you did so well, sweet boy,” you murmured into his hair. “took everything i gave you so beautifully. m’ so proud of you.”

he whimpered quietly, nuzzling into your neck. “thank you,” he rasped. “for letting me be good for you. i needed that so much.”

“i know baby.” you pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “you’re always s’good for me. my perfect, pretty boy. now let’s get you cleaned up and into bed. want me to hold you?”

he nodded against your skin, clinging tighter. you smiled, heart full to bursting with affection. seeing him like this - open, vulnerable, trusting you so implicitly - was a gift you’d never stop being grateful for, and one that’d never stop giving.

“i got you, ken,” you promised as you gathered him closer, turning to lead him to bed. “i’ll always take care of you, baby. always.”

SATORUBI 2024 | pls do not copy, steal, or modify my work !!! happy reading, luv u sluts <3 also tagging my bff @ramonathinks

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞

WORD COUNT — 17k

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help

♪ verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex,, florence + the machine - mermaids,, zayn - bordersz,, mikky ekko - who are you, really?,, q - alone,, danna paola - tenemos que hablar,, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, summer camp - i want you

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. the music recs above are also really nice to get into the vibe! enjoyyyy :D

[ ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ JUMP TO PART TWO ]

i. ASK ME THE TRUTH AND I’LL TELL YOU A LIE

the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.

“on september 2nd, around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police receives a call from you, saying your father hung himself.”

you stare at the the inspector — whose name you did not bother remembering — before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”

with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”

“no, i don’t.”

“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what exactly happened, since there were no witnesses.”

“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”

he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that were the case?”

“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”

“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.

all you can do is sigh. “i was his daughter in blood and name only. nothing more.”

with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”

that sparks your interest. “who?”

the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.

“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.

“what can you tell me about him?”

leaning back in your chair, you list a few things. “he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”

“anything else?”

keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”

“any particular reason why?”

“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”

the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”

“such as?”

his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”

your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”

“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”

“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.”

“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”

scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.

this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.

you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.

which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.

your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.

and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.

as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.

his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”

“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”

your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”

he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”

it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.

“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”

he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”

“neither am i.” you state. like always, there’s a tangible coldness to your voice, which he finds soothing, for whatever reason.

it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.

a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair.

you proceeded to laugh in his face.

mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.

“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”

instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”

you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”

a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”

only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.

so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.

mingyu only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.

ii. THE HATRED WE BEAR

you find yourself staring at your father’s tombstone with a numb face and the wind breezing through your hair. your makeup is slightly smudged under your eyes from the tears you shed just an hour before, while you were giving the public a final speech regarding his passing.

the funeral was long — too long.

at a certain point, once the whole thing was done and everyone left, you decided to take a quiet moment for yourself in the graveyard to let everything sink in.

you made the mistake of thinking you’d left alone.

a voice you’re too familiar with speaks up behind you. “i’m sorry for your loss.”

of course it’s kim mingyu out of all people who’s still here, sneaking up on you.

you don’t have the energy to make a snarky comment this time. “i’d ask why you’re still here, but it’s a question i already know the answer to.”

he still offers you his answer. “i’m here to check up on you.”

well, that takes you by surprise. “why?”

“you lost the one parent you had left. i don’t want you to be alone.”

something about that sentence fuels a sudden anger in you. he’s got some fucking nerve, saying that to you. “maybe you should’ve considered that a couple years ago. you know, before you decided to become my dad’s little protege.”

even as a little girl, your bond with your father was a shitty one. your mother passed when you were young, so you barely have any memories left of her.

in an attempt to win his love and affection, you always did everything your father asked of you, yet your efforts were hardly acknowledged. you found him to be a harsh and cruel man, but surely with you being his daughter, his only child, he must’ve cared for you. or so you always told yourself.

something about your yearning for his approval and support changed for the worse when mingyu’s mother became a prominent business partner to your father, about nine years ago. it made him spend more time with the kim family, and you have no idea how or why it happened, but mingyu became like a son for him.

you saw how well your dad treated him, and you cried for a long, long time as you compared it to his neglect towards you. for every pat on mingyu’s back, you got scolded for not being good enough. whenever he got praised, you got discarded. it’s no miracle that you came to be the way that you are. detached, perceptive, appearing to be just as unfeeling as the man who raised you.

you hated your father. with all your heart.

but you grew to hate kim mingyu more.

so to hear him say that he doesn’t want you to be alone — that takes the goddamn cake.

he lowers his head at your words. “it wasn’t like that.”

“right. of course it wasn’t.” your voice is painfully spiteful.

“i wouldn’t have done it if i knew it was at your expense. i’m sorry.”

he’s trying to be nice to you, not understanding yet that it’s actually doing more damage, making you angrier. “the last thing i want is your fucking pity.”

“then what do you want?”

“nothing you can give me.” it’s a subtle final warning coming from you, because you’re actually about to explode at him. “just leave me be.”

“please, just... i wanna help you.”

like a ticking time bomb, you suddenly hit your limit. finally, you turn around, facing him, and it’s only then that he truly sees how upset you are, like a storm suddenly changing its direction, and he’s in the way.

“help me? you’d help me by getting the fuck out of my face. you wanna know what i want, mingyu? i want to know what in god’s name everyone loves so much about you, what it is that made my father shut me out completely and replace me with you. he gave you more love than he ever gave me. just looking at you makes me sick. what the fuck did he see in you that he didn’t see in me?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from pouring your emotions out to the guy in front of you. “why did he hate me so much? even in death, he favors you over me. he left you... everything. a final ‘fuck you’ to his own child. and for what? for you?”

the fact that you got word from your father’s lawyer that your father chose to leave everything he had to mingyu instead of you was like the straw that broke the camel’s back.

throughout your life, you always did what was expected of you. you were the perfect daughter.

and for what?

the fact that your father grew to hate you and love this asshole so much that he left you not a single penny to your name — that is your tipping point.

and mingyu just wordlessly allows you to continue ranting, almost as if he deserves it.

“what the fuck is so special about you, huh? because i don’t get it. sure, you’ve got a nice face and you’re a smart guy, but i don’t believe you actually give a shit about others. i bet you came here today to rub my dad’s inheritance in my face — you fucking pretentious douchebag.”

“i’m sorry. i never meant—” he stumbles, nearly falling over as he backs away while you keep stepping forward, feeling surprisingly small in front of you, in spite of his tall frame.

“i don’t give a shit if this is what you intended to happen or not! i’m all alone.” you show your sadness right between the anger and hostility, vulnerable in front of him. “no family like everyone else, no money, no house, nothing. abandoned by the one person i had left.”

he looks at you as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. he’s never even shown you a hint of vulnerability — nor have you for that matter — so why is he showing it now?

you’re too deep into your breakdown to think rationally about it. “you took literally everything that i had. and i’ll never forgive you for that.”

“please, let me—let me fix it.” he chokes out, as overwhelmed by your strong emotions as you are yourself.

the harshness of your words makes him feel like he’s crumbling in your presence. “talk to me like you care about me one more goddamn time, and i’ll make you regret ever meeting me in the first place.”

in all the years that you’ve known him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him flinch — you doubt any of your words have ever hurt him.

until this moment, it seems. but why is he even hurt? you don’t care about him and he doesn’t care about you. it’s always been that way, and you have a hard time believing it’ll ever change.

the moment you walk away from him with a sharp pain in your chest, pushing him to the side by his shoulder, he’s left behind in a shocked and bewildered state, neither of you aware that a pair of curious eyes witnessed the whole exchange.

iii. ULTERIOR MOTIVES

“the full inheritance of your father has been transferred over to you.”

the cup of tea you were raising stills with your hand. your eyes narrow at your lawyer as you’re seated in the garden of your father’s estate. “what—how? why? it wasn’t passed down to me.”

“no, but the person it was passed down to can always make the decision to pass it on. and he did — surprisingly with no strings attached,” he tells you, putting the document from the notary in front of you, “i had it all double-checked. everything’s there, the documents signed by kim mingyu himself.”

just hearing the name makes you grimace, putting you off your tea. “and there’s absolutely nothing he wants from me?”

“nothing was mentioned, no. he did, however, leave you a note.”

“what does it say?”

your lawyer raises his brow as he reads it, handing it to you instead of reading it out loud, which makes you give him a puzzled look before casting your eyes downwards to the piece of paper.

tomorrow, 4:30, my apartment. all you have to do is sign the papers. i look forward to the day you’ll make me regret meeting you.

“that asshole.” you mutter to yourself, not loud enough for your lawyer to hear it, but he’s certainly got an idea of how you feel about the whole situation.

“you do, of course, always have the option to reject the inheritance, but i would highly recommend not to. frankly, in all of my years of experience in this field, i’ve never felt a bigger need to encourage a client to take a deal.”

once you’ve picked up the documents and skimmed over the words, you look back at him. “and if i did accept it, it wouldn’t contain any possible implications for me in the long term?”

“none. it is... fairly remarkable he’s willing to give you the full inheritance for nothing in return, even if he and his family are known for their wealth. but it wouldn’t be a significant loss for him, considering the capital he already has to his name.” the man explains, not needing to spell it out for you.

you put down your cup. “knowing him, i’m not so sure he doesn’t want anything. i suppose i’ll have to talk to him about it myself, tomorrow.”

your lawyer highly encourages you to do so, leaving you to spend the rest of the day wondering what he could possibly want from you.

and so the following day, at 4:30 sharp, you step into his apartment — penthouse is the more fitting term. you’ll admit, though, that he’s got style.

it’s dead silent in his place, save for the metronome in the background and the slow brew of his coffee machine. he’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with black trousers as he approaches you. “glad you could make it. coffee?”

“why are you willing to give me the inheritance?” you ask directly, not feeling up for the unnecessary chitchat. you’ve always hated small talk. “if it was just a set-up, i’m leaving.”

he doesn’t seem to be even the slightest bit surprised by your forwardness. “i’m willing to give it to you because a) i don’t need it, and b) i don’t want it. i think it’s ridiculous your dad set up his will like this.”

“well, that makes two of us.” you fake a polite smile, clearly very sarcastically, putting your hand on your hip. “you asked me to come sign the papers, but i have yet to see them.”

mingyu smiles a little at you. of course you’d skip straight to business — you never were a girl of many words. he walks over to a cupboard and takes a sealed folder with the documents out of a drawer, handing it to you.

when you attempt to take the folder from him, he swiftly retracts his hand like the asshole he is. “it’s not completely free, though.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “of course. i should’ve known better than to believe you were willing to do something out of the kindness of your own heart.”

he just keeps going as if he didn’t hear you, very much used to the little quips you throw at him by now. “don’t worry, i think you can manage this very small task for me.”

“just tell me what you want already—”

“my family’s hosting a gala next week, on friday. i’d like you to be my date.”

you’re baffled. this is what he wants in return for the inheritance worth millions of dollars? to have you on his arm for a single night?

oh, hell no. you’re not falling for it.

“why? you wanna publicly humiliate me or something?” you question, a deep frown settled in your forehead.

he huffs, annoyed that you’d think that low of him. “i know we’ve always hated eachother, but, maybe, during a hard time… it would be nice to have one relaxed night. and yeah, i wouldn’t mind doing that with a pretty girl to keep me company. what do you say? deal?”

not once in all the years you’ve known him has he ever called you pretty.

“fine. but don’t think about pulling any stunts.”

“wouldn’t dare.” his smile sits somewhere beween teasing and serious when he finally hands you the papers.

you sit down and briefly scan the documents, not signing them right away to have them checked by your lawyer first. “if everything in this is according to the plan, you’ll have them signed by tomorrow morning.”

“okay. see you friday.” he winks at you, escorting you to his front door, a subtle grin on his face that gives off the impression he’s planning something, and you can only imagine what it might be.

there is one good thing about having to spend time in his family home, though — and that’s to search his rooms to find anything that might implicate him having something to do with your father’s murder.

since there’s still a culprit to be named.

with your own agenda in mind, you walk out of his apartment, searching for the name of your stylist in your contacts.

you’re going to need a dress, after all.

iv. A PROPOSAL

with a stern look on your face, you look at the entrance of the gala from the tinted window of your car. it’s all bright lights and colorful decorations, candles, flowers — the kim family is well known for their luxurious and memorable parties. you’ve attended plenty of them. while you and mingyu may not get along, his sister and mother are genuine sweethearts, some of the kindest and most welcoming people you know.

if only you could say the same for the asshole you’re about to spend the evening with.

after checking your makeup in the pocket-sized mirror for a final time, your driver opens your door so you can step out of the car, which leaves you on your own in front of the stairs.

mingyu originally mentioned he wanted to pick you up at your home like the gentleman he very much claims to be, but you very quickly shut the idea down and told him you’d just meet him at his family’s mansion.

so here you are.

attending a gala only a month after your father’s funeral must seem like an… interesting choice, to say the least. the people you come across express their condolences and ask if you’re doing well — you wonder if the sentiment is real or not — and you tell them you’re here because it serves well as a distraction.

you’ve become an excellent liar over the years.

as you’re standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing, you observe the people on the dance floor below. those who aren’t dancing are chattering, the noises of clinking glasses and laughter filling your ears.

most of the time, you’re able to somewhat enjoy this life. but the truth is that it can be as exhausting as it is glamorous.

but with your last living parent gone, you do feel a sense of freedom, even if it is lonely at times.

not like you didn’t feel lonely when he was still alive.

you didn’t love him or care for your father. you cared for the hope that someday he would change. that he would show you he did care for you, even a little bit.

but that day never came.

he was primarily an investor, so at least you haven’t been burdened with having to take over a business or anything like it. having no siblings either, you feel like you should take this opportunity to start fresh; focus on building your own career and use your father’s money for things he’d never approve of.

suddenly, you spot your date in the midst of the crowd, breaking you out of your train of thoughts. his half-long hair looks pretty on him, you have to admit, the few strands in front of his face paired with the tailored, navy suit giving him the appearance of a model.

he’s currently talking to an older woman who clearly seems to adore him, the smile he puts up making her give him a gentle, loving squeeze on his upper arms. like always, no one is able to read the bitterness you feel as your face remains neutral.

growing up in your restricted social circle of the country’s wealthiest families, your group of peers wasn’t extremely big. you all went to the same primary school, same private high school. mingyu was always one of if not the most popular kid at school. an effortless ace at every fucking thing. everyone loved him, be it your peers or their parents.

you wouldn’t say you weren’t popular. quite the opposite, actually. your best friend was the queen bee of the school, as she was always striving to be the best in everything. top of the class, highest achievements, a true perfectionist at heart. bold, definitely a bit judgemental and classist too, but once she’s your friend, she’s the sweetest girl in the world. she did like to dabble in some drama with others if it came onto her path.

and you were the opposite. you preferred to steer clear of any drama, much preferring to watch it unfold from the sidelines — as you usually just didn’t care enough to interfere with it — and you were never quite as talkative as your best friend.

the sentences leaving your mouth are always quick, direct, sharp and without stutter. you’re masterful at small talk, even though you hate it. you know how to play people like a fiddle. your father made you use your manipulation skills to good use rather frequently.

many consider you cold and calculated.

which is true, of course. but you still have a heart, even if it barely beats.

the outburst you gave mingyu after your father’s funeral must’ve come as a shock to him. no one has ever seen you in such a vulnerable and weak state, and out of all the people who could’ve seen it, it naturally had to be him — and that makes you uncomfortable.

once he’s finished his conversation, he looks in front of him, then up at the balcony — and he locks eyes with you.

you give him a look of acknowledgment, but that’s it. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, still shining as brightly as ever, making his way up the stairs as fast as he can. “i’m sorry i wasn’t at the entrance to greet you, i didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

“it’s fine.”

he glances up and down, admiring the dress you chose. “you look gorgeous.”

the deeply dark green dress with its boat neckline, long and fitted sleeves and intricate gold embroidery makes you look elegant. with the dress itself already being quite the statement piece, you chose to pair it with dainty earrings, your hair half-up and curled.

“thank you.” you don’t bother saying anything about his appearance. he must be used to it at this point.

“can i get you something to drink?”

you test the waters by throwing in a joke. “what, planning on poisoning me?”

his eyes flicker for a moment, stricken by something you can’t quite place, which makes you blink at him. his flirtatious and charming self returns within a mere second, and he proceeds to snicker at your joke. “i could, but where’d be the fun in that?”

rolling your eyes at him, you take his arm once he’s offered it, keeping in mind you’re doing this for the inheritance.

the time goes by quicker than expected. he introduces you to some of the people he’s close with, tells you stories you’ve never heard before, even asks you about yours.

a few of his friends come by as well, surprised to see you by mingyu’s side. most people your age here know that you and him have never quite gotten along, to put it lightly.

when they subtly ask about it, mingyu tells them he insisted you came to distract yourself from the death of your father, and that you could probably use a party.

it raises more question marks as to what his motive is for asking you to be here tonight. what is he gaining from this? he hasn’t humiliated you yet. if anything, he’s only spoken of you highly, save for the little snark he keeps between the two of you.

it’s strange. really strange.

after a while, once all the guests have been drinking a bit, you decide to set your own plan in motion. this might be your only chance to snoop around here, as you doubt you’ll find yourself in here again anytime soon.

you’re literally invited in his home — you’d be a fool not to check his room.

unfortunately, just as you try to disappear from the crowd, mingyu extends his hand to you. “dance with me?”

just as you’re about to refuse him, you remember that this is the one night you have to be nice to him, all so he can give you the inheritance that was meant to be yours in the first place.

with a small sigh, you slide your hand in his, at which he grins triumphantly.

before you know it, you’re in the middle of the room together, and he has his one hand on your lower back, the other hand intertwined with yours. he’s smooth with his moves, you have to admit.

the question has already left your mouth when you process it. “why am i here? i’m sure there’s a reason i needed to be your date tonight.”

mingyu cocks his head at you. “i think you’ve had to endure a lot the past couple weeks. the incident, the interrogations, the press, the shit with the inheritance — i’m impressed you haven’t lost your mind yet.”

“how do you know i haven’t?” you ask, and he twirls you around, his hands feeling like they’re burning on your skin. “wasn’t my breakdown after the funeral enough to prove you otherwise?”

“well, looking back, i should’ve probably left you alone in that moment. but i did think about what you said, and you can correct me if i’m wrong, but i feel like your father and our ties to him were what made us hate eachother so much. now that he’s gone, maybe we can… i don’t know. tolerate one another.”

you make sure to hide your confusion from him. does he really not see it? sure, the main reason you’ve always despised mingyu was because of his relationship with your father, but you weren’t exactly best friends before that either.

even putting it like that would still make it the understatement of the year.

if he actually pictures the two of you becoming friends, though, he’s lost it.

unsure of what to tell him, you give him a shitty excuse to escape the conversation. “i’m just gonna use the ladies’ room, if you don’t mind.” you let mingyu know, and he nods at you in acknowledgement, caught off guard by you leaving so suddenly.

so you walk off, the voices of the people and the music in the hall fading into the background as you trail off.

now that you’re alone, you can finally go check his room.

it’s harder to navigate the mansion than you thought. hallways that all look similar, god knows how many rooms — you hope you won’t get lost here.

one of your best friends is good friends with mingyu’s sister, and so she knows the place like the back of her hand. when you asked her for the layout of the place, she did think it strange, but you told her she had nothing to worry about.

mingyu’s bedroom and study are supposedly on the third floor of the east wing, and the party takes place in the west wing.

so that’s just fucking great.

your best friend did warn you that he most often keeps his doors locked whenever visitors are present, so to ensure you could get in, you snatched the key from his pocket when he was dancing with you earlier.

it almost makes you chuckle when you think about how easy it was.

when you’ve finally arrived at what seems to be the door to mingyu’s room, you double-check the environment around you to see whether anyone’s following you, and when it appears to be safe, you shove the key into the lock, twisting it.

you exhale when realizing it’s the right key.

entering the room, you quickly shut it behind you, taking in the sight.

it’s raining outside, which you take notice of through the large windows. several paintings adorn the walls — you didn’t know he was a lover of art — as well as some photos of him with his family.

the room is surprisingly tidy, his clothes all neatly folded on the wooden planks in his closet and the drawers underneath. the few books he has sitting on top of the cupboard are gathering dust — you suppose he doesn’t like to read all that much.

of course he doesn’t.

his king-sized bed seems soft and comfortable, and the room smells of the cologne and perfume he always wears.

you blink a few times, realizing you’re dwelling too much on details that are not a priority right now.

which is enough to snap you awake, a rush of adrenaline moving through your veins as you look for anything interesting. files, documents, notebooks — anything.

you find his agenda in a drawer of his desk. with slightly trembling fingers, you move the pages back to the date of your father’s death, as well as the days before that.

as you’re caught up with doing so, you momentarily forget the first rule of breaking into a forbidden space: never turn your back to a door when you should be watching it.

“you know, i’m starting to think you agreeing to be my date came with ulterior motives on your side.” you suddenly hear mingyu’s voice behind you, at which you turn around, looking a bit too guilty for comfort.

your voice almost gets caught up in your throat, but you keep your composure. “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t plan this.”

“it’s alright.” he responds, closing the door behind him smoothly, as if he doesn’t want you to see it. “you still think i had something to do with your father’s death, don’t you?”

“i’m not sure. i don’t see why you would, now that you’ve given me the inheritance. what other motive could you have?”

all mingyu does is clench his jaw at the rhetorical question. then he snaps out of it, his eyes trailing to the desk you’re currently leaning on. he takes a few steps closer to you, and you raise a brow, waiting in anticipation what he’ll do.

his face is suddenly very close to yours, and you’re almost convinced he’s leaning in to touch you when he reaches for the drawer behind you instead. “well, as a matter of fact, i did have something to show you.”

that surprises you.

“your father always carried a little red notebook with him. it’s the only part of the inheritance i didn’t give you, solely because i wanted to show you myself. there’s a few strange scribblings in it, with locations and numbers, and look at this—” he opens it up in front of you, pointing at the paper with his index finger, “apparently he felt like he was being followed just days before he died. maybe the police is right and he did get murdered.”

“yeah, i already figured he probably pissed off the wrong guy.” when he looks at you hopefully, you shrug. “what?”

“we should check it out, right? find out who killed him.”

you immediately shake your head at his suggestion. “no.”

mingyu’s whole body language changes, genuine confusion overtaking his features. “what do you mean, no?”

“he was caught up in all kinds of shit, things i never wanted to be a part of. that’s no different now that he’s six feet under.”

“are you not the slightest bit curious who killed him?”

“frankly, no, i’m not. i’d say whoever is guilty did me a favor.”

despite your valid point, he persists. “okay, then how about this — what if this person would come after you for whatever reason? don’t you want to know who you’re dealing with?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “why do you care so much, mingyu? i’m sure this is something you could manage on your own.”

the sudden question surprises him, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m not sure why. but i do. and you know i did care for him.”

“why don’t you just let the police handle it?”

“because they don’t know this world — and we have access to places, people they wouldn’t even know where to find or how to deal with. have you talked to the detectives? they’re amateurs.” he answers, pausing before taking a step closer to you. “he’s dead either way, doing a small bit of research might be interesting. who knows what you might find.”

“and you wanna do this with me of all people because...?”

he rolls his eyes at the question. “you were the only other person directly affected by it. c’mon, am i really so bad that you can’t even deal with me for a little while?”

the fact that you just give him a deadpan stare tells him all he needs to know.

it makes you bite your lip. you don’t feel like doing this at all, certainly not with mingyu of all people, but he appears to be ready to do this with or without you.

besides, you do feel up for a little adventure.

“fine, i’ll bite. hypothetically, what if i were interested in finding out who killed him?”

the young man in front of you tilts his head. “then i’d suggest we work together and do some digging.”

pursing your lips, you watch his pleased expression when he notices you’re actually considering it. “why do i feel like i’m gonna regret this?”

“maybe you will. maybe you won’t. we can go right back to hating eachother after this, but for now, we’ll be partners. deal?”

your eyes linger on the hand he’s stretched out to you, and even as you’re hesitant to take it, he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

with a sigh, you shake his hand. “okay. deal.”

v. PARTNERS IN CRIME

“for someone so organized, he sure as hell has a lot of unnecessary shit lying around here.” mingyu mutters, searching through the drawers of the cupboard.

you scoff in agreement. “tell me about it.”

the two of you are rummaging through your father’s study in your home in an attempt to find anything interesting as to what he might’ve been up to the past few years.

so far, you’ve had zero luck with it.

you already figured there’d probably be nothing of interest here, but mingyu insisted, said it would be stupid not to. so here you are.

“you know, i’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t be as stupid as to just leave traces of his criminal affiliations lying around in his study.”

mingyu shrugs while simultaneously looking into a drawer. “you never know.”

“he was an asshole, but he was a smart one.” you mumble to yourself as you go through the little notebook mingyu just handed you a few minutes ago.

he watches you with curiosity. “can i ask you something?”

without looking up at him, you give him a rather direct response. “i’m sure you’ll ask me regardless of my answer to that question.”

ever so indifferent, he thinks. if anything, one thing about you he is actually fond of is your unfiltered attitude. more people should be like that. “you said you’d never forgive me for what i did to you."

hearing those words makes you look up at him. you’re surprised he’s taking an approach this straightforward with you. “i know what i said.”

“is there nothing i can do to at least make things more civil between us?”

god, you’re sick of him already.

instead of outright telling him you hate him more than anyone else you know, you cross your arms over your chest and fire a question right back at him. “why do you want things to be different between us? don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over it, now.”

mingyu pauses a moment before he answers you. “i thought about the things you said, when you were upset with me, and i realized i’ve made your life harder without having intended to do so. and yeah, i am losing sleep over it.”

while he does appear earnest, you don’t exactly trust him, so all you do is shrug your shoulders.

he wants to say something right when his phone rings. once he picks up, you figure it must be something business-related, judging by the tone of his voice and formal language.

an apology directed at you leaves his mouth as soon as he’s hit the red button on his screen. “i’m sorry. an important business meeting was moved and i promised my mom i’d be there.”

you’ve met mingyu’s mother a few times, at events. she’s the ceo of a very prominent hotel business. many of the highest ranked hotels around the world are under her care, and she clearly knows what she’s doing, since her business has been thriving for many years at this point. you remember it was her who took over as ceo after mingyu’s father passed in a car accident when he was younger.

“then you better get going.” you tell him, your face not pulling a single muscle. you hope he didn’t think you were going to ask him to stay.

he nods at your words, taking the jacket with his initials embroidered in the tag and slinging it over his arm. “yeah. i’ll call you.” he says, going out the doorway, yet your voice makes him halt in his tracks.

“mingyu.” you say his name to him, an unfamiliar feeling on your tongue, and he turns to look back at you.

he awaits your words, catching the subtle warning in your eyes as you refer back to the question of his you had yet to answer.

“we may be working together now — call us associates, or even partners in crime — but once this is over, we’ll go right back to strangers. let’s just keep this… somewhat professional.”

you find he can be surprisingly hard to read from time to time, for a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. after blankly staring at you for a few seconds, processing the words, he just offers you a little smile and a gentle response. “okay.”

and he walks off, only leaving you more intrigued than before.

for two days, it’s complete radio silence from mingyu. all he asked you over text was if you’d been able to find anything in the study, to which you replied with a simple no. he didn’t say anything else.

you sincerely thought this whole investigation of yours wasn’t actually gonna lead to anything, that it was useless — until now.

it’s eleven o’clock, dark outside, the metronome ticking in the background of your living room as your eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop.

you just got a notification from the bank that someone made a significant withdrawal from one of your father’s bank accounts, one that still needs to be signed over to your name.

question is, who the fuck has access to your father’s bank account besides you?

no one. supposedly.

staring at mingyu’s contact in your phone, you twist your lips, unsure of whether to call him about this or not.

going against your gut, you press on his phone number and wait for him to answer the call.

nothing.

for good measure, you call him a second time. same result.

then it hits you. you spoke to wonwoo last night — he mentioned something about him and mingyu going out together this evening.

wonwoo, thankfully, does pick up his phone. “hey. what’s up?”

“hey. are you with mingyu right now?”

“yeah, why?”

“where are you?”

“uh—” he stutters out an address in the middle of the city, clearly confused by the urgency in your voice. “what’s going on? what do you need mingyu for?”

“well, it’s hard to explain. anyway, i’m coming over.”

“he’s kind of—”

you quickly interrupt him by hanging up. taking your wallet and car keys, you head out. the address wonwoo’s given you is located in the club scene downtown, and you make it there in no-time with the navigation on your phone.

parking your car across the block, you get out and check your phone, heading to wherever wonwoo and mingyu currently are. you usually tend to go for the clubs at the other side of the city, as the vibe feels a little different here, but you’ve been around the neighborhood a couple times, so it’s not entirely unfamiliar to you.

when you arrive at the club, you catch the sight of your friend leaning against the stone wall outside.

jeon wonwoo, all handsome in his expensive jacket and sleek shoes, looks surprised when he notices you of all people coming up to him, even though you told him you were coming. his voice is soft when he greets you. “hey. you gonna tell me what exactly you’re doing here?”

shrugging your shoulders, you put your hands in the pockets of your black coat. “you said you were here with mingyu. i gotta talk to him.”

“right now?”

taking note of his baffled reaction, you tilt your head to the side. “yes, right now. i don’t care if he’s occupied.”

wonwoo brings a cigarette to his lips, pushing the pair of dark-rimmed glasses higher up his nose. “what’s going on with you and him, anyway? i thought you hated each other.”

“we still do.”

“well, something’s changed.”

“believe me, wonwoo, i don’t like him any more than he likes me.”

all he does is narrow his dark eyes at you.

just when you want to open the backdoor to the club, wonwoo stops you. “you do know what kind of establishment this place is, right?”

frowning at him, you open the door just the slightest bit to check whatever he’s getting at, and once you catch sight of the pink and red lights, sensual music and metal poles attached to the ceiling, you momentarily close the door again.

right. this must be one of those clubs that are hidden from the prying eyes of non-customers, to give the illusion there’s nothing going on behind these walls, giving the rich clients some privacy in their activities.

you roll your eyes. “when you said you were going to the club, i didn’t think you meant a strip club.”

“i was about to tell you when you hung up on me.”

“so why are you out here and not in there with him?”

“because i wanted to smoke and he felt like heading into a more secluded space. with company, no doubt.”

oh, this is gonna be fun. since kim mingyu pretty much ruined your life, the very least you can do in return is ruin his night. you briefly chuckle to yourself. “alright. well, have fun smoking.”

“you’re still going in?” he calls after you, and all you can do is scoff.

“you think i care whether kim mingyu’s gonna have a good time or not?”

“forget i asked.” he responds, the hint of a smile tugging at his facial features. “i’ll wait here ‘til you get back.”

you shoot him a knowing smirk before stepping into the club. remaining in the background, you scan the area to see if there’s a glimpse of him somewhere.

at the other side of the bar, a man seems to be on watch in front of a separate hallway, so you figure that’s where the jackpot is.

not bothering to look back at the bartender, whose gaze trails after you, you head over to where you need to be, which is where you’re stopped in your path, as expected.

“these are occupied private rooms, ma’am.” a bouncer tells you.

“look, sir, i…” you begin, coming up with some bullshit excuse to get past him, “i’m pretty sure i saw my boyfriend just go in here with a dancer. all i want is a confirmation, i’m not looking to start drama.”

before the man can respond, you wordlessly hold up a small stack of hundred dollar bills between your index and middle finger, waiting for him to take the bribe.

works like a charm wherever you go.

his demeanor changes once he sees the money. “what’s he look like?”

“tall, dark medium-long hair, brown eyes, pretty handsome — though that’s probably subjective.” you shrug, adding a little fake smile to it. you can get far in life with a little charm and money.

the few generic features seem to be enough for the bouncer to know who you’re talking about. he takes the money from your hand, pointing his finger at one of the more secluded rooms in the back.

“go for room number six.” he says, stepping to the side so you can pass him.

thanking him, you head into the back, the heels of your ankle boots clicking against the floor.

the rooms have their matching numbers on neon signs above them. your eyes curiously take in everything they see, but all rooms grant the people in them privacy with the use of frosted glass.

once you’ve made it to the room with the number six on the sign, you take a breath while your hand rests on the handle.

you enter the room soundlessly. the broad space is dimly lit with its soft lights, a mixture of yellow, pink and red almost convincing you that this place is a mere fever dream.

mingyu is seated on the velvet red couch, his legs spread with a girl in skimpy lingerie dancing between them.

yet his eyes are on you.

with his head tilted down, he looks up at you from beneath his lowered brows, peering right past the bare hips of the girl as if she’s not dancing in front of him at all.

you catch a hint of intrigue in his features. he reaches inside his pocket to hand a small stack of money to the dancer in the exact same way you did with the bouncer only a minute before, and the girl leaves you to your privacy.

“hello to you, too.” he says, not bothering to move a single muscle as he remains on the soft couch.

“next time, answer your damn phone.” you scold him, staring him down with the coldest glare you can muster, and mingyu’s not sure why, but he relishes in it. it doesn’t happen often that someone treats him like this.

“i was occupied.” he casually answers, his hand running through his dark locks.

“well, not anymore.” you grin, handing him your phone to show the photo of the bank transcripts. “apparently, my dead father just took fifty grand out of his account.”

mingyu furrows his brows at the screen. “where?”

“all the way at the other side of the city. question is, who else has access to his account, aside from me?”

“we should go and check the footage.” he says, shrugging his shoulders, and he finally gets up, towering over you again. “i know someone who’s with the municipal authorities, i’ll make the call.”

“right now?” you ask, referring to how deep into the night it is, at which he raises his brow.

“yes, right now. this is the best clue we’ve come across so far. don’t you agree?”

“i do. i just thought you cared more about, y’know, being occupied.” you emphasise the last words with a waving hand, gesturing to the girl that was previously dancing on him, and his flirtatious nature comes right back to him as if it never left.

“why? wanna give me a show before we leave?” he smirks, getting closer, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you, to see what’s lurking underneath your closed-off persona.

fine. both of you can play this game, you think to yourself. “what, are the girls here not enough to get you off?”

“is that a yes?”

“why would you want a lap dance from a girl you can’t stand? i may not like you, mingyu, but i didn’t think you’d stoop so low to go after any woman with a pulse.”

“i feel flattered,” he smiles, eyes trailing down to your exposed collarbones, finding it ridiculously hot in here, “and i don’t particularly like you, either, but we both know you’re gorgeous. besides, i’ve seen you dance at chan’s club. you looked good.”

his honesty almost stuns you in your place. you didn’t think he held that kind of physical attraction towards you, yet it makes you feel good — because you think he’s fucking hot, too.

such a shame that he’s an asshole.

but still, there’s no time to dwell on his words. you have a reputation to uphold and a murder to solve, after all.

so you lean in, whispering your decision. “in your dreams.”

jesus, mingyu thinks, do you even remotely know how much sex appeal you have? it makes him beyond impulsive. “did you know studies have shown that sleeping with someone you can’t stand is arguably the best thing ever?”

you sarcastically reply to him with the exact same tone. “did you know you’d be so much more bearable if you just kept your mouth shut?”

“what? it’s part of my charm.” is all he says in return, snickering a little over your response, and you merely roll your eyes.

“we’ve got a different idea of charm, then.”

“okay, fair enough.” he shrugs, still maintaining the minimal distance between your bodies. “so what do you find charming? i’m dying to know, really.”

“i like men who don’t feel the need to pay for a woman’s touch.” the reply comes fast and sharp as a blade. “i hope you pay them generously, since they have to put up with you out of all people.”

“she didn’t touch me, though. it’s a strip club, not a brothel.”

“how noble of you.” you humorlessly chuckle at him, attitude turning more playful.

“mhm.” mingyu nods his head, the rest of his words sounding lower and suave. “tell me more. c’mon, i’m curious. i gotta know my partner’s preferences, right?”

the look you give your current partner is something. you decide to indulge him this once, face inching closer to his, just to keep things interesting. “i want someone who won’t hold me back. someone who will accept me for who i am — uninhibited.”

there’s something you can’t quite place flashing behind his eyes. it’s close to intrigue, but more intense, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen it in anyone else’s eyes before.

“good to know.” he breathes out, as if your words stole his breath, and you come to the realization that maybe, there’s more to kim mingyu than you thought.

now that he seems to be pretty much speechless, you raise your shoulders. “so, are we heading out or should i tell the dancer to come back in?”

he stutters out a reply, and you find it funny how his attitude is constantly going back and forth between a flustered mess and the most confident guy in the room.

once you’ve returned to the backdoor where you got in, you see wonwoo is still outside, his cigarette put out on the ashtray beside him.

“you leaving?” wonwoo asks, waiting for either of you to answer.

“yeah. duty calls.” mingyu replies while putting his jacket on.

for what it’s worth, wonwoo is actually a dear friend of yours, and one of the few people you show physical affection to, so you give him a kiss on the cheek before walking off. “catch you later, okay?”

he nods, catching mingyu curiously watching the exchange, and when you walk off with him, wonwoo notices him put his hand on your lower back, which you proceed to swat away.

a mere twenty minutes later, you and mingyu are seated in your car in an empty parking lot, looking at a screen displaying street security footage of the bank where the withdrawal was made earlier tonight.

mingyu’s friend seungkwan, who works for the authorities, sent you the footage, and as you’re looking it over, he’s on the phone explaining his observations. “he was wearing a mask and a cap, so we couldn’t recognize him. the car he drove has a license plate that doesn’t match, so likely stolen. he drove from a nearby parking garage to the bank, withdrew the cash, got back in the car and then parked it right here, about six blocks further, in the business district.”

the building the car is parked across is one you’d recognize any time of day. it’s where your father’s main office is — or was — one of the places he never allowed you to get into, or anyone for that matter. it was the only place where he got the peace and quiet he wanted.

you turn your head to glance at mingyu, giving him a knowing look. “that’s where my father’s main office is.”

“you think the guy’s gonna try to break in?”

“if he got his hands on the passcodes and proceeds to wait before the building he always worked in, then yeah, i do.”

you nod in agreement, because he makes a fair point. mingyu looks at the worried expression on your face and decides you’ve gathered enough information now.

he thanks seungkwan and tells him bye before hanging up, then turning his focus to you. “whoever that guy is, if he’s planning on breaking in, we gotta beat him to it.”

“you wanna break into an office on the seventh floor located in a building that neither of us are allowed into? they won’t even let us pass the front desk. i know because i’ve tried.”

he shakes his head. “trust me — we’ll find a way in. i’ve got an idea, but it’s not gonna be easy.”

vi. WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I

the following days are spent analyzing and memorizing blueprints, tracking the people entering and exiting the building and checking security in the hope of finding some kind of loophole in the system.

trying to get in through the front door is too risky, so you’ve opted for the roof instead, because there’s several buildings so closeby that you can get into either of the buildings next to it and reach it from there. you’ll get in with a classic heist movie tactic you pray works in real life as well.

ventilation shafts.

so now, you’re both in dark and practical clothing to attempt breaking in. because your plan is mediocre at best.

as you watch from the rooftop of a currently unoccupied office building nearby with a binocular, you face-palm yourself the moment you notice the security set-up is different than anticipated with the blueprints, meaning the ventilation shafts are most likely not accessible. “well, fuck.”

“what’s wrong?”

you hand the binocular to mingyu, and he mimics your previous actions, huffing in annoyance when he sees it too. “shit. what do we do now?”

“nothing.”

“what?”

“our plan was already risky enough, but now that we pretty much don’t even have a way in, we’d be stupid to try. we only have a fifteen-minute window before a security guard comes up the roof again.”

“that’s plenty.”

“it would be, for like — a swat team. we’re amateurs. at this, anyway.”

“speak for yourself.”

“oh, i’m sorry, have you done anything remotely on this scale before?”

“well… no.”

pinching the bridge of your nose, you roll your eyes to yourself. “we should’ve brought wonwoo.”

mingyu is quick to respond with a sarcastic comment. “and tell him what, exactly? ‘hey, we need your help breaking into one of the best-guarded buildings in the city so we can snoop around and try to find a clue leading to a killer’?”

“well, i don’t know if you’ve noticed, gyu, but we quite literally have no other options.”

“we could always try the front door. you’re still his daughter, they might let you in.”

“i really hope that wasn’t an actual suggestion, because if it was, it would highly diminish the idea i have of your intelligence.”

“is this your way of telling me you think i’m smart?”

“well, currently, i think you’re being an idiot, so no.” you retort, stealing the binocular out of his hand again. “god, i’m starting to respect criminals. this shit is difficult to navigate around.”

mingyu chuckles as he adjusts the black baseball cap on his head. “there has to be another way. maybe we could—”

“—get in through an open window.” you interrupt, handing the device over to him. “you see the glass window in the roof of his office? it looks like it’s ajar.”

once he sees it too, he tilts his head. “it’s almost too easy. it’d have to open manually, otherwise we’re screwed.”

you can only shrug. “it’s only a modern interior on the inside, the building itself is older, so the odds might be on our side. besides, it’s worth a shot, right?”

“can’t argue with that.” he agrees, checking the other buildings around to figure out the best approach.

you watch him as he’s distracted. he’s fully going for the whole partners-in-crime thing you’ve got going on with him, yet a part of you is still unsure what his motives might be.

but for now, you’ll just focus on the task at hand.

every fifteen minutes, a security guard comes up to the roof, checks everything, stays for a minute or two and leaves again. you’ve been keeping track of it. as soon as the one currently on duty closes the door to the staircase behind him, heading back down, you both start a silent timer on your watches, getting to work.

one thing you discover doing said task is that jumping from roof to roof is really not as easy as they make it seem in the movies. if anything, it’s pretty scary, even if they are relatively close to eachother.

the jump from the last building to the one you need to be on top of has the biggest gap, and mingyu takes a solid leap, landing ever so gracefully.

you shuffle your feet for a moment, making the mistake of looking down. mingyu notices your hesitation and tries to encourage you the best he can. “it looks scary, but it’s a relatively easy jump. i swear. that’s gotta mean something coming from a person with a fear of heights.”

clenching your fists, you try to steady your breathing. “don’t you lie to me, kim.”

there’s something strangely charming about you using his last name whenever you’re scolding him. “c’mon. i’ve always thought you were fearless. you’re not gonna diminish the idea i have of you, right?”

curse him for using your words against you like that.

clenching your fists, you bite your lip, the worst case scenario going through your head over and over.

“just go back a couple steps. steady your breathing, and then you run. okay?”

you don’t respond to his words but do as he says anyways. the jump isn’t even that far, you’re just afraid of tripping.

but you won’t go out embarrassing yourself in front of kim mingyu. your pride is too strong for that.

so you take a deep breath and make a run for it, jumping over the gap and landing on top of the other roof, far away from the edge. mingyu laughs triumphantly. “good job.”

“thanks.” you smile as he helps you up to your feet, and you dust off your jacket, proud of yourself for going through with it.

the two of you walk over to the glass window, and you kneel down, inspecting the lock. thank fuck — it’s so simple that all you have to do is click it open. you’re guessing they probably thought the security walking around was enough.

with your hands covered in gloves, you wiggle them through the gap and crack it open, after which mingyu takes the lead. he lets himself drop into the office silently, looking up at you as a gesture for you to follow him.

you attempt to do the same as him, but you figure he must have strong arm muscles, because you’re barely able to hold yourself up the way he can. he notices your struggle and moves to stand underneath you.

“just let go. i’ll catch you.”

“are you sure?”

he nods, his arms up as if he’s waiting for you to jump right into them. “yeah, yeah. i got you.”

not entirely convinced, you try to drop onto the floor in a way you can still hold yourself up, but mingyu proves himself true to his word when he catches you as easily as drawing his next breath. he looks you in the eye while he has you in his arms, his senses feeling heightened as your clothed skin touches with his.

then you tap on his shoulder, and he lets go of you.

the office is bigger than anticipated. the moonlight from outside is bright enough for you to not need a flashlight, so that’s beneficial.

mingyu is awfully quick on his feet for someone as tall and bulky as him. he’s quiet in every step he takes, which is useful in a situation like this.

while he begins to look through a bunch of drawers, you open cabinet after cabinet, going through some documents that don’t really contain anything interesting.

you turn to look at the desk and the painting on the wall behind it. it’s nothing spectacular — your father never had much of an appreciation for art, so you find it strange he’d even have it up here.

out of sheer curiosity, you try to check if there’s a secret stash behind the painting like in those crime movies.

you have to refrain from laughing when your eyes fall onto the safe in the wall. “hey. gyu.”

he turns around, his entire demeanor changing when he sees what you’ve found. “you’re kidding.”

the safe has a surprisingly easy system. it has four dials, so you need a code with four numbers to get access to whatever’s inside. you change the dials to your birth year for fun, but naturally, it doesn’t work. hell, mingyu’s birth year might have a better shot.

while you try out every combination you can think of, mingyu gets the little notebook out of his pocket — the one that was part of your father’s inheritance. he flips to one of the last pages. “try 9-3-6-8.”

going with his suggestion, you rotate the dials until they have the right numbers, and you hear a click. blinking a few times, you turn the small crank wheel beside the dials and open the safe.

there’s not much inside in terms of quantity, but the things that are in there are no joke.

two gold ingots, a stack of files and a loaded handgun with a silencer attached to it.

“what the fuck was he up to?” mingyu asks rhetorically, inspecting the pistol with care, and you shrug, grabbing the files to put them into the bag you took with you.

“i don’t know, but we should hurry up. we can look at whatever all this is later. clock’s ticking.”

he figures you make a good point, so you hold out your bag, and he puts all of the safe’s contents into it.

you’re both scared to death when you suddenly hear voices coming from the other side of the door. you immediately zip up your bag and close the safe back up, putting the painting right back in front of it.

footsteps come approaching your direction, and you realize you don’t have enough time to get back out of the office without being caught red-handed, so you’ll have to find a place to hide.

just as you’re about to go sit underneath the desk, mingyu doesn’t hesitate to grab you by your hand and pull you against his body, both of you hiding in the small gap between the bookcase and the wall, which is right next to the door.

you almost jump in your place when the door is opened by a security guard, and mingyu puts his hand over your mouth to make sure the guard doesn’t hear you.

thankfully, you’re hidden right behind the door now that it’s opened, but your heart is fucking pounding as your chest is pressed against mingyu’s, and all you can focus on is him.

he’s suffocatingly close to you.

the situation forces you to look at him so closely — like never before. your attention trails down from his dark eyes to the litte mole on the bottom of his nose, the shape of his lips, and the glimpse you catch of the silver chain adorning his collarbones.

it’s the first time you see how big of a man he is. he’s been working out a lot in the past few years, with considerable results — standing this close to him highlights the contrast between his frame and yours.

the footsteps leave the office not long after, and the door closes. you’re finally able to breathe properly when he releases his palm from your mouth, and you inhale and exhale deeply.

“you alright?”

“yeah. that was just — scary.” you respond, cracking a little smile.

he nods, neither of you really moving in your places yet. “you can let go of me, y’know.” mingyu whispers, sounding entirely unconvincing, and you frown before looking to your hand that’s apparently been clutching his jacket this whole time.

“oh, yeah. sorry.”

“it’s okay.” he assures you, pointing to the ceiling. “we should probably head back.”

you agree and sling the bag over your shoulders, on your back. he gets onto the desk first so he can climb out the same window you used to get in, and once he’s gotten up the roof again, he extends his hand to you so he can pull you up.

it doesn’t go smoothly. he’s a little clumsy, but he manages, so you take a breather once you’ve made it out of the office with him. you close the window in the exact position it was before you opened it, and you make it to the safety of the rooftop where you started just twenty minutes ago.

as you quickly go down the stairs of the abandoned building to reach the ground floor, he laughs triumphantly. “holy fucking shit. i can’t believe we actually pulled that off.”

you smile at him with adrenaline still rushing through you, heart still pounding in your chest when you realize what you just did.

and honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever felt that… alive.

a mere fifteen minutes later, you’re seated in a half-empty diner with him. he’s across from you in the booth, elbows on the table as he fiddles with his fingers.

while he looks around the place, you take the files you found in the safe out of your bag so you can look them over.

as your eyes fall onto the first page, you frown.

mingyu notices your gaze. “what’s wrong?”

you switch to the other file folders before scoffing to yourself, realization hitting you. “you gotta be fucking kidding me. they’re tabs he kept on the people around him. the staff at home, his driver... even me. and you. well, looks like he didn’t trust you completely.”

before he can even reply to the subtle dig, you slide the folder with his name on it across the table, and he opens it up, noticing a huge chunk of information on him neatly stashed away in separate documents. there’s even candids there that must’ve been made by a private investigator.

“i knew he was paranoid, but this takes the cake.” you mutter, and you throw the folders back into your bag, and mingyu hands you his so you can take it as well.

“well, this sucks.” he sighs. “those files aren’t of much use, so now we’re back to square one.”

you tilt your head. “that’s not entirely true. we might be able to check where the gun came from, or whose name it’s registered under.”

mingyu hums, lifting the cup to his mouth, whispering a compliment, not really expecting for you to hear it. “smart girl.”

with your bag zipped up and everything off the table again, it’s quiet between you and mingyu for a moment.

“god, i’m starving.” he says as you wait for your food to arrive, and where he’s slightly fidgeting in his place, you sit completely still, looking at him with a frown. once he catches your gaze, he raises a brow at you. “what?”

“do you do this often?”

“eating in a cheap diner?”

“trespassing. breaking in. illegal activities. whatever you wanna call it.”

he shrugs. “occasionally. keeps life interesting, y’know?”

the casualness in his attitude makes you scoff. “sure.”

“you don’t agree?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“no, but then again, you don’t really say much at all.” he says bluntly. he doesn’t mean it as an offensive statement in the slightest, but it would’ve probably sounded better if worded differently.

for a moment, he thinks his impulsivity must’ve upset you, seeing as you remain silent for a moment.

then you laugh at him. the sound is completely new to him, yet strangely soothing to his ears.

“you’re bold, i’ll give you that.” you snicker before taking a sip of your coke. “but i assume you don’t have an issue with people who are on the quieter side, since you’re besties with wonwoo and all.”

mingyu mimics your facial expressions. “yeah, i prefer being around quieter people more. but i didn’t—it came out wrong. i meant, you don’t really, like... show who you are. if that makes sense. even back when we were in high school, you were like a mystery. you still are, to me.”

“is this what this whole partnering-up thing is about? you wanting to unravel the mystery about me? because if it is, i’ll give you credit for the creativity.”

mingyu tilts his head. “well, it’s a little more nuanced than that.”

“if you wanted to get to know me, why didn’t you try years ago?”

“have you met you?”

you roll your eyes. he smirks at you, enjoying your company quite a lot, anticipating whatever it is you’ll say in response.

“you wanna know something, mingyu?”

“yeah.”

“you’re telling me i’m the mysterious one, but i’d say that’s you.”

his playfulness falters a bit, and he shows his confusion instead. “me?”

“mhm. you’re popular, good-looking, charming, all of that — and i think you’ve got layers to yourself that no one even knows about. characteristics no one would ever dare imagine when they think of you.”

his breath hitches in his throat. “why do you think that?”

twisting your lips into a pout, you put your drink back down on the table. “wouldn’t be any fun if i outright told you, would it?”

mingyu narrows his eyes at you. you just shrug, as if to tell him he’ll figure it out, if he’s smart enough.

and he welcomes the challenge.

“okay.” he smiles, biting his lip when he leans back in his seat. “but, hypothetically — what if you’re wrong about me? what if i don’t have those layers you’re talking about?”

you eye him up and down, remaining quiet with your arms crossed over your chest. you’ve always had that attitude. like you know more than everyone else, as if you’re the smartest person in the room. usually, you are. and yet you’re never smug about it, unless someone challenges you to be — you’re always calm, cool, collected. stoic. the fact that wonwoo of all people called you an ice princess years ago says enough.

“i’d be sorely disappointed.”

“so you have high expectations of me?”

“in a way, perhaps. though you’ll have to work a little harder to impress me.”

“tonight wasn’t enough?”

“it was a start. we still loathe eachother, remember?”

“right. i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

sure, you and kim mingyu hate one another, but he still makes you smile the most anyone has in ages, and you make him feel more alive than anyone else has.

vii. FRIENDS CLOSE, ENEMIES CLOSER

“i’ve got bad news.” you say, tapping your nails on the coffee table in your living room as you have mingyu on speaker.

“okay. do tell.”

“the gun isn’t registered, so we pretty much only have the files as evidence.”

“yeah. i doubt your father put those files together himself, since they seem like the work of a professional. we might be smart to seek out the private investigator who gave him the intel.”

you know he hears you sigh at the other end of the line, and your response hardly sound convincing. “yeah, i guess.”

“what’s wrong?”

it’s quiet for a moment. you speak up with a tension rumbling in your chest. “maybe we should just quit, gyu. i don’t feel like what we’re doing is actually going anywhere. we still don’t have a proper lead.”

then it’s his turn to remain silent, and you swear you can hear his breath shudder. “we’ll get there. it just... takes some time.”

“you sound a little too sure of that.”

“i just think it’d be a waste to not continue after the stunt we pulled last week.”

“what’re we gonna be doing next? breaking into the national bank?”

“something tells me you’d find that exciting.”

well, shit. have you become so transparent that kim mingyu of all people can tell the truth about you?

“maybe i would.” you grumble like a child admitting defeat.

the sound of his laughter echoes through the phone. it subconsciously brings a small smile to your face.

“look, i have a meeting ‘til five. i can come by after to brainstorm about things, pick up some food on the way. are you free tonight?”

“yeah. text me when you’re on the way here.”

“yes, ma’am.” he jests, saying he’s got to go before hanging up. it leaves you to stare at your phone for a minute. a past version of yourself would never believe it if you said mingyu would ever get close to you in the way he has over the past two months. it’s been a strange time. it’s come to the point you’re pretty sure you don’t even hate him as much as you used to.

maybe you don’t even hate him at all anymore. maybe.

but something about admitting that to yourself feels scary, so you put your thoughts elsewhere while secretly looking forward to having him come over again.

it’s a quarter past five when he sends you a message, letting you know he’s picked up the food and on the way to your house, and a mere twenty minutes later, you and him are seated in the lounge on the first floor as he tells you about his day – all while shoving a dumpling into his mouth.

what interrupts you, however, is the noise of your doorbell. mingyu frowns instantly, and you mimic his expression, because you weren’t expecting any more company. “who’s that?”

“no idea.” you shrug, so you get up from your seat, jogging down the stairs with mingyu following you, simultaneously chewing the food in his mouth.

checking the screen beside the door that’s connected to the doorbell, you notice a familiar face standing outside.

“isn’t he the main detective on the investigation?” mingyu asks rhetorically, his body language changing to something more stiff. “what is he doing here?”

“good question. i certainly didn’t invite him, but the guy at the front gate probably told him i was home. fuck — you have to hide.”

“hide? why?”

because the detective thinks you still hate mingyu, so seeing him here would make your story hardly plausible. “because he can’t see you, obviously. get upstairs and stay there. i’ll distract him.” 

“are you sure?”

“yeah, so go!” you push him back with your hands on his chest, and he seems hesitant to leave you by yourself, but he eventually jogs up the stairs again to get out of sight.

the inspector smiles only as a formality. you do the same. you haven’t spoken to him since you indirectly accused him of being an asshole, a while before your father’s funeral.

“good evening. i hope i haven’t come at a bad time. may i come in?”

“i have to take a business call soon, actually, so another time would be—”

“i won’t be long. i assume you’d like to have an update on the investigation?”

well, fuck. he’s got you there, so you’re forced to let him in, but you don’t let him wonder and gesture for him to sit down in the living room, on the couch. you move to take the seat directly across from him to ensure his focus is on you, instead of on the huge staircase behind him.

“am i still at the top of your list?” you ask. when the man tries to find the right words to respond, you scoff, filling in the blanks. of course you still are. “but you have no evidence.” 

“it’s not about evidence — moreso the lack thereof. i’m stuck with two people who each have a solid motive, an alibi that’s far from foolproof, and an important tie to the victim. you cannot deny that.” 

“is this another interrogation? because this is all off-record.”

“not an interrogation. i was just wondering something – back when i spoke to you last, before your father’s funeral, i asked what you could tell me about kim mingyu, your father’s former associate.” hearing him say his name makes you anxious, yet you pull every possible muscle to hide it. “you spoke of him as if he were the devil himself. you clearly hated him, perhaps more than you hated your father.”

“and?”

he pulls something from the inside of his jacket, and you discover they’re a few candids, photos taken of you with mingyu while out in the city. well, that’s just fucking great. you’re gonna have to make use of your top-notch acting skills here.

“i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me asking why you’re suddenly seeing someone you claim to hate as much as you do.”

the blankness of your face dissolves as you adapt a more playful and sassy persona. “you came all the way to my home for this? a few photos?”

“a few photos of my two main suspects together for a reason i cannot think of, yes.”

“you can’t think of a single thing? really? no offense, but i was under the impression you were at least a little clever.”

the man stares at you as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. that can only mean one thing – he’s falling for your act.

what an idiot.

you lean forward in your place, the dry smile remaining on your face. “i fucked him. several times, actually.”

he narrows his eyes at your statement. “i thought you told me you hated him.”

“oh, i do. but a good hate-fuck is the best way to release some frustration. you should try it sometime.” the sound of your voice is monotonous as you utter the words in one go.

“i’ll keep it in mind.” he sarcastically responds with a fake smile, and you copy his body language, pleased to see you’ve made him somewhat uncomfortable.

he clearly wants to change the subject, but you don’t feel like continuing this conversation any longer. “if you’ll excuse me, i really have more pressing matters, so i trust you can see yourself out.”

the inspector huffs a bit, but he knows better than to overstay his welcome. he wordlessly allows you to let you walk him to the door before turning around. “i hope you know who you’re dealing with. not everyone is who they say they are.”

leaving you confused, he looks at you a moment, proceeding to walk out your front door, after which you close it. did he know more than he was willing to let on? what a strange visit.

when you finally decide to turn around, you see mingyu standing in the middle of the stairs, looking a little baffled, at which you roll your eyes.

“why would you tell him that?”

“would you have preferred it if i told him the truth?”

“would that be so bad?”

you scoff, passing him on the staircase. “see, this is what i mean when i say you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

mingyu follows you back up to the lounge. “i’m just saying — maybe it’d make us look less suspicious.”

“it’d do the opposite, gyu. trust me.”

“okay. fine. but out of all the things you could’ve said, why that?”

“well, it made him uncomfortable, making it easier to get him to leave early. and, well… you know what you look like.”

the last sentence really grabs his attention.

“what i look like?” he repeats, knowing damn well what you’re getting at, but he’s eager to hear you spell it out for him.

“well, you’re somewhat good-looking. it’s one of your few strong points, actually.”

“so you think i’m hot?”

“didn’t quite say that.”

“no, but you implied it.”

“not really. you may be conventionally handsome, gyu, but attraction is a whole different thing.”

“oh, c’mon. admit it. i’m willing to, so…”

“do i need to remind you i said we’d keep things professional? which you agreed to.”

“god, you’re so tough.”

“part of my charm. maybe that’s why you like me so much.”

“i never said i liked you.”

“no, you didn’t have to.” you scoff, laughing at him, and mingyu feels the corners of his lips curling up — because you’re right.

then, as you plop down on the seats in the lounge again, you sigh as you look at the papers scattered across the table.

“you know, it’s been weeks, and we still haven’t got the slightest clue who’s the killer,” you frown, fingers resting on your collarbone, “and if i’m being honest, i doubt we ever will.”

mingyu briefly narrows his eyes at you, proceeding to take his laptop out of his bag. you watch curiously when he silently types away at his keyboard, then turning the device around and clicking on the play button.

suddenly you hear your own voice, and the words — you said those during the interrogations. how the hell did he get his hands on those recordings?

he seems to be able to read your mind. “i’ve got a contact in the force. he sent me the sorted files of everyone who was interrogated. we should probably listen to them, right? after all, we know more about the situation than the detectives.”

blinking a few times, you shrug and nod in agreement, so he increases the volume and presses the button again.

the following two and a half hours are spent listening to the recordings and taking notes of important things. you’re only halfway through them, but doing this the whole time really sucks you dry of energy.

at a certain point, you press the pause button and get up from your seat, moving to the liquor cabinet a few meters away. “you like a good whiskey, right?”

“yeah. how’d you know?”

“i observe and listen. that, and i heard you say it to wonwoo one time.”

he chuckles at your words, watching you take the bottle with two glasses and set it down on the table.

once you’ve poured the liquid into the glass, he takes what you offer him and down it in one go, after which you give him a judgemental stare. “seriously?”

“sorry. had a rough day.”

your gaze softens, and you pour him a second glass as he holds it out. “why?”

“i just… haven’t been feeling great lately. not really sure why.”

well, that’s interesting. “your conscience eating away at you?”

his eyes widen an uncharacteristical amount, and your face is blank for a few moments until you crack a smile. he laughs it off, squeezing his hands together, which you take notice of.

“guess you could say that. no, i don’t know. my sister’s been stressed and she won’t tell me why, which is odd ‘cause she always comes to me — and my mother’s been overworking herself, and i’m worried for her.”

pursing your lips together, you cast your eyes down for a moment.

for some reason, you feel a sense of repulsiveness whenever mingyu speaks of his family like that. as if it’s a reminder of what you didn’t have.

but you don’t show it.

“sounds tough.” you reply, not intending to sound distant — you just find it difficult to know what to say.

what you fail to recognize is that mingyu sees it. he sees your struggle and the emotions you think are so deeply hidden underneath the surface. they actually are, to be honest, but he’s come to know you and with that the way you hold yourself. and he’s suddenly able to read you better.

you’re made of sharp edges only — broken glass on all sides.

he takes another sip of his drink. you down yours in one go.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

mingyu’s eyes curiously follow your every move, the alcohol in his system making him bolder. “how are you holding up?”

“me? ‘m fine. why do you ask?”

“i think mostly ‘cause i’ve asked you a lot of questions, but not that one.”

the words make you silent for a moment, and you let out a knowing sigh when you realize what he’s getting at. “i told you i was glad he died, gyu.”

“i know. but even if you are, you can still find it difficult to deal with.”

you inhale and exhale slowly, leaning back against the wall for a moment, staring into nothing. “i’m not sad that he’s gone. i never will be. but there’s things i wanted to ask him.”

when you don’t continue, he asks you to. “what things?”

“things about my youth, my mother… hell, maybe even about you.” you shrug, chuckling for a brief moment, but the sound is gone as soon as it came. “but i think, mostly, i’d ask if he saw himself in me.”

mingyu is intrigued by your answer. “why would you wanna know that?”

you shrug, your tiredness contributing to you opening up. “because maybe i’d hear the answer i want to hear, and not the one i currently have. my worst nightmare has always been to turn into him.”

“you won’t be like him.” he tries to tell you, but you shake your head.

“i already am. i hated him to the bone, and yet i act like him, sound like him, handle things like him — because he taught me everything i know. at the end of the day, i am my father’s daughter. there’s no changing that.”

“you’re not a bad person. he was.”

“how would you know? he was nice to you. stand-offish, probably, but nice.”

“you don’t think i had an idea of what kind of person he was? i cared for him, but i knew he could be harsh. i caught some bits and pieces when he… yelled at you after our high school graduation.”

you have an almost visceral reaction as he mentions the incident. your father had yelled at you after the graduation, because the best student of your class got a prize on the big podium, and it wasn’t you. and that as a result made your father angry, because being in the top five wasn’t enough — because it should’ve been you.

it was always supposed to be you.

“why did you even want to be around him at all? if you knew how much of an asshole he was all this time.”

mingyu stares at the wall for a few seconds when he thinks about it. “he came into my life when i needed it the most. but looking back, i feel guilty. i shouldn’t have cared for someone like that.”

“like what?”

“someone that cruel. he didn’t deserve to be loved or cared for, not in any way.”

“can only good people be loved?” you ask in return, and he seems positively surprised at your question.

“you’d find love for a bad person?”

“mingyu.” you say his name in a brief chuckle, and it steals his breath away. “do you think you have that much of a choice over who we love? we don’t. that’s what makes it so complicated.”

he seems to grow increasingly stressed with each thing you say, much to your surprise. “but would you want to love someone like that?”

looking away from him for a moment, you think his words over. “if that person was good to me, and had the same values… yeah, i would. trust me, the few people i care about are no saints, and yet i’d go to hell and back for them.”

“am i on that list too?”

you meet his eyes, and his expression is so beautifully genuine, full of raw emotion you’ve never seen him show before. it’s then that it finally hits you — kim mingyu actually cares about you.

the worst thing is that you just might care about him, too.

so you gently smile at him with a light shrug of your shoulders. “maybe.”

he reciprocates it, his brown eyes blown wide as he gazes at you. “i’m glad. you’re on my list too, y’know.”

“am i?” you tease, and he nods cheerfully, happy to have verbalized his appreciation for you. “well, i didn’t really see it coming, that’s for sure.”

your words bring mingyu’s thoughts back to the death of your father, the rift you accused him of causing between the two of you. a wave of guilt comes flooding in once more.

“look, i… i know you may not believe me, but i genuinely feel sorry for what happened. for taking something from you. despite the things i saw and heard, i really was too stupid to see that your dad treated you as badly as he did.”

staring him right in the eye, you don’t fail to catch the earnestness in them. “it’s alright. you’re not half as much to blame as i’ve tried to make myself believe you were.”

the words intrigue him. “how come?”

swallowing the lump in your throat, you press your lips together. “because he didn’t care about me. he never did. maybe he was different before my mother died, maybe he wasn’t. i wouldn’t know.”

mingyu tries to hold his ground as he watches you get emotional. he remains quiet in his spot next to you.

“can i tell you something?” your voice is hesitant and almost inaudible, like a child who’s trying to tell their parent they did something wrong.

when he silently nods, you continue.

“you wanted to know why i hated you, right? well, i...” you pause in an attempt to find the right words, “i felt invisible to my father. like i didn’t matter — i was treated like nothing more than a tool to improve his businesses. but you... he treated you like a son. like a person. and i spent years trying to figure out what i did wrong and you did right, and i just... i didn’t get it. i still don’t. but whatever it was, i was jealous that you had it and i didn’t. and everyone loved you and praised you, be it our friends or their parents. everyone in our social circle. from my point of view, no one had ever uttered a single bad word about you, and then when my father began to take a liking towards you as well... i just hated you. you were my perfect scapegoat.”

the guilt on his face is clear as day. when he parts his lips, you already know he wants to apologize again, but you shake your head, speaking up first.

because you don’t hate him anymore.

“mingyu, there was nothing for you to take away from me to begin with. long before you were even present in his life, he didn’t care for me either.” with the corners of your lips turned down, you continue. “i did everything he asked. perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect social life. but he didn’t care. it’s not often i say people have no heart, but he just… he just didn’t have one. for his job, perhaps, for his business partners — but not for anyone outside of his work. i just didn’t think that would go for his own child, too.”

you reach for your forehead, trying to take his attention away from your face, running your hand through your hair while blinking your tears away. why are you telling him all this?

but it just feels so good to finally get it all out.

“you did the best you could.” he tells you, and you nod with watery eyes.

“i did. and somehow, none of it mattered.”

when the first heavy sob leaves you, you try to hold it back, not wanting him to see you break down.

he doesn’t let you. he moves to sit next to you and takes you into his arms, and for the first time in however long, you let yourself break. the tears are your acknowledgement of the pain it has caused you over the years, the damage that will never quite heal and always follow you wherever you go.

you’re not sure why you’re falling apart this easily. you hardly ever cry anymore, perhaps a few times a year, and you usually feel strong enough to hold it all back when you’re in front of others, but this time — this time, you just can’t.

“it’s alright, sweetheart. it’s okay. you’re alright. he’s gone now.” he whispers into your ear as comfort. “but you’re not alone. not anymore.”

his heart shatters when he internally makes the comparison between the loving family he grew up in and the lonely, broken family you could hardly call home.

“why wasn’t i enough? why didn’t he like me?” you mutter to yourself, having lost control as you cry into mingyu’s neck, clinging onto his body as your chest aches.

“because he couldn’t. he didn’t have it in him to care for anyone. that says more about him than it does about you.” he responds, gently stroking your hair, even pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and for the first time in a long time, you feel… cared for. like you truly matter to someone.

something that feels scary, perhaps even strange, but good.

mingyu’s big arms cage you into his hold, a comforting feeling. to be honest, you wish you could stay with him like this for the whole night. maybe even longer than that.

he rubs your back, feeling the pain in your chest as if it were his own. he’d take all of it if he could. you were damaged in a way that no one deserves, and seeing how much it still affects you and most likely will in the long term, that tears him apart.

the heavy ache in your chest subsides, yet you still cling onto him. you feel the most at ease you’ve ever been with anyone.

“thank you.” you mumble, giving him a tight hug with you wrapping your arms around him ‘till he’s almost suffocating. “i needed that.”

“anytime.”

you eventually finally come down from your breakdown, body slightly twitching as the last tears silently roll down your cheeks.

with your head in his lap, you lay on your side, closing your eyes for a while as the pain in your chest slowly subsides. he’s still rubbing at your clothed skin, and you’re curious if he’s aware it does wonders for calming you down.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you, gyu. after the funeral.” you speak up, voice still raspy. “i was wrong about you.”

mingyu feels his throat tighten up. “it’s okay. i was wrong about you, too. we have more in common than i initially thought we did.”

you wipe your tears away and move to sit upright, finally feeling confident enough to look him in the eye again. “like what?”

both of you are tired. everything that’s happened the past weeks has definitely been causing some sleepless nights for both of you, and with all the alcohol and emotions running high, you’re both feeling a tad drowsy.

he runs a hand through his dark locks. “this part of society — i think it’s exhausting, a lot of the time. full of noise, small talk that’s supposed to hide how cold half these people are, social pressure, all of that. but here, at home, it’s quiet. maybe a little too quiet. the thing is, i have my friends and family that i care about more than anyone else, but i still feel… hollow. like i’m missing something.”

you nod at him. “you can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.”

“yeah.” he sighs. “do you feel it too?”

“well, i may not have a family, but i have my friends. and they mean so much to me, and i can talk to them if i need to, but… yeah. i feel it too.”

he wonders if you feel the same connection that he’s feeling right now. he’s drawn to you like a damn magnet.

mingyu already knows he’s a goner when he gently puts his hand on your cheek. he feels electrified by your presence, your voice, even the way you look at him.

he needs you.

“maybe we can be lonely together.”

his words are enough for your breath to hitch in your throat. you doubt you’ve ever wanted to have someone as much as you do now.

and so you cross a line you never thought you would and press your lips to his, desperately needing his touch.

the kiss is harsh but slow, as if you’re aching to taste eachother. his hand makes its way to the back of your head, the other on your back to pull you closer to him.

his heart might as well be lurching out of his chest. god, he feels that excitement and nervousness as if he were his teenage self sharing a first kiss with his crush — yet whatever feeling is clouding his mind is something darker and deeper, something that transcends what he can describe with words.

he kisses you like his life depends on it. once you’ve both pulled back to get some air, looking the other straight in the eye, it’s like you’re silently admitting that the relationship you share is more than just being partners.

it’s something that comes alarmingly close to love.

the moment is harshly interrupted when his phone rings. he blinks a few times before rolling his eyes at the timing, as he’s still half on top of you.

you can do nothing but wait underneath him as he takes the call, and when he closes his eyes and releases a sigh, you know it’s not positive.

“alright, thank you.” he says before hanging up, turning his focus to you. “the alarm at my apartment in the city was triggered. i gotta check it out, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you mutter out, suddenly unsure of how to talk to him now that you’ve crossed the line that you have.

but mingyu is much more straightforward. his gaze is warm and intense as it finds your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to stay here with you. so he shows you that.

just when your lips are about to touch again, he smirks, gently holding your chin. “i’ll be back for this.”

with those words, he catches his breath and gets up from the couch, after which he jogs down the stairs, and half a minute later, you hear the front doors open and close.

the sound allows you to release the breath you’ve been holding.

what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

READ PART TWO HERE

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[rafecameronssl4t]

can you do thirnton!reader x rafe where they are sneaking around and topper finds out?

I fw him on the low || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

moodboard

“Nobody know, I fuck with him on the low. We never show up together, but I text him when I’m ready to go.”

“I’ll see you later,” you giggled, reaching for your door as the booming trap music filled the air downstairs. Just as you closed the door, a familiar voice called out your name, making you jump a little.

“You good?” Topper chuckled, eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and amusement as you awkwardly cleared your throat, brushing your hair out of your face and leaning against the door.

“Yeah, all good!” you replied quickly, giving him a thumbs-up with a self-conscious smile, mentally cringing at your own awkwardness. “Did you need something?” you asked, hoping Rafe wouldn’t appear at that exact moment.

“Yeah, have you seen Rafe around? I need to talk to him,” Topper queried casually, his tone suggesting he was just checking. “Nope, haven’t seen Rafe. At all.” You said with a slight shrug, pursing your lips as Topper let out a resigned breath.

“It’s fine, probably off doing his usual Rafe stuff, you know, like fuckin’ around with some girl,” Topper shrugged, turning away. Despite trying to stay serious, you couldn’t help but snort softly at his bluntness.

~

A smile spread across your lips as you opened your eyes to see Rafe towering over your bikini-clad body, his large frame blocking out the sun. “Hi,” you giggled shyly, feeling a flutter in your chest as he smirked down at you. Leaning in, he pressed a quick peck on your lips.

“What was that? C’mon, gimme a proper kiss,” you pouted playfully, your hand reaching up to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He chuckled softly, muttering a “yes, ma’am” against your lips before leaning in for a deeper, more lingering kiss. His hands began to roam over your body, sending shivers down your spine as you let out a low groan of pleasure.

“Fuckin’ knew it! You guys aren’t slick!” The sudden sound of your brother’s voice made you jump as Rafe pulled away quickly. You both looked up to see your brother standing on the balcony, his phone to his ear and a triumphant look on his face.

Topper leaned over the railing, shaking his head slightly as he watched the two of you. “Sorry, Top. Couldn’t help myself,” Rafe casually shrugged, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure you didn’t,” Topper called back down, rolling his eyes before turning around and heading back inside.

[alisonsfics]

secret’s out

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: you and carmy have been able to successfully hide your relationship from your friends for four months. but when they all get invited to carmy’s apartment for a party, they find something that spoils your secret relationship.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, smut implications

“We really have to get back out there, Carmy,” you mumbled against his lips. You tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed your hips and held you still.

“Don’t wanna. Just wanna stay right here with you,” he protested, moving your hands back to where they had been in his hair. Carmy loved the feeling of your fingers running through his curls. “They’re gonna realize we’re gone,” you tried to protest, but Carmy was making it difficult.

You hummed contently as Carmy’s hands ran down your sides. “You really wanna leave?” He teased you. Carmy could read you like the back of his hand.

“You know I don’t, but we don’t want all our friends to realize we’re dating, do we?” You asked him.

Carmy finally pulled out of the kiss. “I just miss you. That’s all. I see you everyday but we have act like we’re just coworkers. And we have to be so careful. I have to watch every move I make around you. I know we can’t, but I just wish I could flaunt you to everyone.” He told you, honestly.

You took his hands and interlaced your fingers with his. “I know, baby. I’ll make it up to you later, though.” You flirted, kissing the inside of his wrist.

Carmy huffed. “We have that party later at my place with everybody, where I once again won’t even be allowed to hold your hand or…do this,” Carmy said, trying to distract you. He attached his lips behind your ear, sucking softly on your skin. He knew how much you loved it.

“We always have after the party.” You said, pressing a kiss to Carmy’s neck.

“God, I love you,” Carmy said, with awe in his eyes. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before sneaking back into the kitchen. You waited a few minutes before joining him, so no one would get suspicious.

Later at the party, you and Carmy were making sure to keep your distance. If you both were inseparable, your friends would figure it out pretty quickly.

Carmy was in the kitchen chatting with Fak and Marcus. You were sitting in the living room with Richie, Sydney, Nat, and Tina. Every once in a while, Carmy would meet your gaze and smirk at you as he took a sip of his beer. You tried your best to maintain a straight face.

Richie was in the middle of a rant about god knows what. You had been zoned out for the past few minutes, and now you had no idea what he was talking about.

“The fuck keeps poking me?” Richie grumbled, bringing your attention back to the conversation. Richie stood up and started pushing the couch cushions on the couch that him, Syd, and Nat were sitting on.

You all watched him in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about? There’s nothing there, Richie.” Sydney told him. Richie kept searching the couch. “No, see. Right here,” he said, finally realizing where the mystery object was.

Richie stuck his hand behind the cushion, grabbed it, and then held it up.

The four of you froze when you realized what it was.

Richie was holding up a dark red lacy bra.

Your bra.

But no one knew that.

“Yo, cousin,” Richie yelled, successfully grabbing Carmy’s attention. “Yo, what’s up?” Carmy asked, walking around the corner. He froze when he saw what was in Richie’s hand.

There was complete silence for a second as everyone realized what was happening.

Then, chaos erupted.

Natalie and Sydney jumped off the couch. “I am never sitting on this couch again.” Natalie said with visible disgust on her face. Carmy’s face turned the darkest shade of red you’d ever seen.

Marcus let out a whistle, embarrassing Carmy further. “Who does this belong to, cousin?” Richie asked, intrigued by Carmy’s mystery woman.

You stayed seated in the armchair, trying to make sure there wasn’t embarrassment written on your face too.

“Fuckin’ give that to me,” Carmy said, snatching the bra out of Richie’s hand and storming into his room. You heard him slam his dresser drawer after stuffing your bra in there.

You remembered back to the night that your bra ended up in the couch. You had just bought a new bra to surprise Carmy. He was a big fan of the purchase. In summary, it didn’t stay on very long and you both never even made it to Carmy’s bed.

Carmy came back into the room and avoided eye contact with the whole group. “So, who’s the girl, Berzatto?” You asked, teasingly. You knew if you were the only one who didn’t tease him, they’d get suspicious. You watched a smirk start to form on his face, but he stopped himself.

“Wouldn’t you all like to know?” Carmy answered without answering. He retreated back to the kitchen, searching for his keys. Richie and Marcus followed right behind him, practically whispering in his ear.

“Who’s the special lady, chef?” Marcus asked him. “None of your fuckin’ business, you assholes,” Carmy said with a chuckle. Richie threw his arm around Carmy’s shoulders, holding him close. “No wonder you’ve been so much more tolerable lately. You’ve been getting laid.” Richie said, smirking at Carmy.

“I’m taking a smoke break. Please don’t follow me.” Carmy said, ducking out the door.

“Who do you guys think the girl is? Is it Claire?” Sydney asked, looking over at you and Sugar. Sugar was quick to shake her head no. “I don’t think it’s Claire. I don’t think it’s anyone we know. I mean, he’s clearly crazy about her, and that’s why he hasn’t told anybody. He doesn’t want anybody to scare her off.” She added.

“What do you mean? You think this is a group of people that would scare a girl away. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, sarcastically.

“Guys, he left his phone.” Richie cheered, running over to the living room. You felt your stomach drop. The only proof that Richie could find about yours and Carmy’s relationship was in your phones. Carmy always made sure to hide the pictures of you both in his apartment when he had friends over.

You mentally prayed to any deity that would listen. You needed Richie to not get into Carmy’s phone. Just like that, you watched Richie perfectly guess Carmy’s password.

“Alright, c’mon cousin. You gotta have a picture of this mystery girl.” Richie said, clicking on the photos app. You wracked your brain for any reason to get that phone out of Richie’s hand.

The first photo Richie pulled up was a picture of yours and Carmy’s shadows. You’d both gone for a walk along the river, and Carmy had taken a picture of your shadows as you held hands.

Marcus and Sydney started booing that they couldn’t see the girls face, so Richie kept scrolling. He came onto another gem that was just a picture of your hand holding Carmy’s. You felt yourself start to hide your hands in your lap.

Richie started scrolling faster, getting more desperate for answers. You felt your heart skip a beat as he stopped on a picture.

It was a spicier picture.

One night with Carmy, as things got a little heated, he stopped to take your picture. He said you looked like the most beautiful woman on the planet, so he took a picture to commemorate it.

It was taken from his perspective as he was straddling you. It showed you lying on Carmy’s bed in a matching bra and panties set. Your hair was messy, and your lipstick was smeared. And to top it off, Carmy’s very recognizable tattooed hand was resting on your stomach.

You practically leapt across the room and snatched the phone out of Richie’s hand. Every person in the room was staring at you with shock and disbelief on their faces.

“It’s you? You’re fucking Carm?” Richie almost yelled. You had worried that your friends were getting suspicious, but it was clear from their reactions that they didn’t expect it at all.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You lied, slipping Carmy’s phone into your back pocket. They all clearly knew you were lying, but you were completely on the spot. You didn’t know what to say, and Carmy wasn’t even there to take some of the heat.

“You’re fucking my brother? You’ve told me stories about your sex life. Those were about my little brother?” Natalie asked, once again disgusted. She retreated to the kitchen to refill her wine glass. “You know what? Good for you. You saw what you wanted and you got it, but at the same time, I think I know too much about you both know.” Sydney tried to be supportive. You giggled at her response and accepted the high five she gave you.

Then, the door flung open, and Carmy walked back inside. “Well well well,” Richie said, turning to face Carmy with an almost wicked grin. You could see the light drain out of Carmy’s eyes.

“They know, Carmy,” you filled him in. He took a second to process your words. He hoped you weren’t talking about what he knew you were. “You told them?” He asked you.

Before you could respond, Richie butted in. “No, she didn’t. Something else told us,” Richie said, still smirking. He loved watched Carmy squirm as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“What’s he talking about?” Carmy asked, looking to you for help.

“You need to change your phone password. Richie was able to guess it.” You explained. Carmy froze before patting his pockets to check for his phone. You slid it out of your pocket and held it up to show him.

“All I have to say is well done.” Richie continued to tease him. Carmy walked over towards you and nudged you out of your seat. He sat down and pulled you down onto his lap. If everybody knew, he wasn’t going to sit on the other side of the room from you anymore.

“What did they see?” He whispered in your ear. You gave him a look that made him question whether he wanted to know or not. You unlocked his phone, turned down the brightness, and then showed him the photo. “Oh, shit. They saw that,” Carmy said, his eyes growing wide.

“Yeah, we saw it. And now we can’t unsee our friend doing things with our brother.” Sugar called out from the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Sugar. I really am. I wish I told you sooner.” You apologized to her. She quickly shook her head. “Fuck telling me sooner. I don’t want to know sooner. I want to un-know. Please wipe my memory,” she said, earning a laugh from the room.

“That’s my favorite picture of you, y’know?” Carmy whispered in your ear so no one would hear him.

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Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Lover's Quarrel

Pairing: Dark (aged-up) Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: You get away from Bakugo’s toxic clutches. But soon your peace comes to an end.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; minor Violence/Abuse.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

I just realized today is his birthday, so here it is :) hope you guys like this.

–

“...you better damn pick up my calls, (Y/N). I’m losing my patience here so you better get that fucking attitude out of your system or I’ll do it for you. Swear to god I’m gonna drag your stupid ass back home if you don’t come to your damn senses and if you fucking think that-”

You press a button, closing the voicemail with a sigh. Throwing your phone to the bed’s edge, you turn your back to it, curling yourself into a ball. 

Your mind is an unstable whirlwind of thoughts and worries and a solitary tear rolls down your face. It’s not fair.

None of this is fair.

You pull the blankets over you, but even their warmth isn't enough to calm the cold that scatters through your body. 

A sob breaks your composure and you hastily push your face into the pillow, smothering down the ugly sobs and whines that break out. 

It takes a long time until your eyes are finally dry and you have no more tears to weep.

But even afterwards, as you finally fall asleep, the heavy feeling still weighs on your heart.

Ding. 

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. 

Your friend looks at you and you’re quick to mute the notifications that pop up, eyes catching sight of the messages that Bakugo is spamming you before you black the screen. 

“I know I’ve asked before, but is everything really okay?” she asks, ignoring the movie on display in favor of looking at you, a concerned wrinkle settling between her brows.

“You seem… so distracted ever since you came. Is it about Bakugo?” 

You shift on the couch, uncomfortable. 

“It’s nothing.” you hesitantly tell her, measuring your words carefully. None of your friends know about the depth of Bakugo’s dark side and you’d rather not involve them.

Even though you’re almost sure that she suspects something is up, especially with the unannounced way you dropped by unannounced a couple of days ago, asking if you could stay a few days. 

“You can tell me, you know that, right? I’m not gonna judge or whatever.” 

You nod, giving her a small smile but no words come out of you despite the hefty weight on your mind. You don’t want to burden her with your problems. 

“I know, don’t worry. We’re just giving it some time. Lover’s quarrel and all.” you try to joke even though there's no humor in your smile.

"I see, okay." your friend draws a small smile, hesitating for a moment before letting it be. 

Work drags far too slowly. 

Boring paperwork to be filled, a few documents that need reviewing.

Nothing that actually manages to successfully distract you away from your current problems. If anything, it leaves you with far too much time for your mind to wander through your situation.

A definitive break-up is more complicated than what it seems as you’re aware that Bakugo won’t peacefully accept that. 

Just the idea of having to deal with an even angrier Katsuki has you cowering further into your chair and you distract yourself by opening your work email, digging into the emails that need to be answered. 

You’ll think about Bakugo later. 

“Later” arrives much earlier than what you expect.

When the clock hits 6 p.m you reluctantly turn off the computer, gathering your jacket and your purse. 

When you check your phone out of habit, the lack of messages surprises you. Strange.

Maybe Bakugo is finally catching the hints that you want to be left alone? You sure hope so.

You couldn’t be more wrong about it and you almost jump when your co-worker shrieks in delight, nudging your arm as you retrieve your car keys from the purse. 

“Oh god, he’s so cute, damn. Seems like someone was eager to see you.” 

Your heart drops at the sight of the blonde man that leans against your car, crimson eyes fixed on you.

“You’re so lucky. My boyfriend never comes to pick me up.” she whines before finally saying a distracted goodbye, throwing adoration filled glances at Bakugo when she walks away. 

For a moment, you consider leaving your car in the open parking-lot. You could take the bus to your friend’s apartment. It would be no big deal, only half an hour before reaching her place. 

But the impassive expression on your boyfriend’s face warns you not to ignore him and you don’t doubt Bakugo’s ability to cause a overly explosive scene right in front of your workplace. 

Your legs walk on their own towards him and he straightens up, pushing himself off the hood as he walks to you, meeting you half-way, far too close for your comfort.

He’s wearing civilian clothes, you notice. They make his firm muscles bulge from beneath the thin material, the veins in his arms popping out with his hands hidden in the pant’s pockets, as always.  

“What do you want?” 

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Talk then.” 

Irritation seeps into Bakugo’s face. He’s never had much patience. 

“We can talk in your car. The keys.” 

Despite his stretched hand, you don’t deposit the keys in his palm. It’s your car. It’s your life. You have to fight for it. 

“Y/n.”

You take a step back, shaking your head. 

“If you wanna talk, then we can talk here. Out in the open.” 

The corner of his mouth twitches with ire, and it compels you to take another tiny step away from him. 

“Will you stop fucking stepping away from me?” his voice booms loudly through the empty parking lot, eliciting a wince from you. “Quit acting like I’m gonna beat you to a bloody pulp or somethin’. I’m just trying to take you back home, you idiot.” 

“But I’m not going back.”

“You are.”

You clench your teeth, hoping it would help ease out the incoming flow of angry tears that threatens to spill at any moment now. 

“I said. I’m not going back.” 

Bakugo ignores your words, losing his patience upon your refusal. 

“Like hell you aren’t. I’ve had enough of this stupid attitude of yours.”

His hand latches to your wrist, holding it in a bruising grip, tight enough for you to feel the bones in your hands being painfully compressed together. 

“Ah, Katsuki, you’re hurting me!” you cry out, attempting to release his grip by using your free hand.

But your fingers are far too weak to pull him away and he groans when your nails scratch him. It makes him grip your hand harder and you sob, body limpless following forward when Bakugo tugs you in his direction. 

You bump into his hard chest, head sharply pulled back with his callous hand enveloping the back of your neck, his large palm easily covering all of it.

The tall hero doesn’t even bother looking around, unafraid of the possibility of someone walking by. Bakugo’s never been one to be overzealous, much less now that the position on Pro Hero Number 2 belongs to him. 

“You’ve had your fun these past days. But it’s over now, y’hear me?” the tips of his fingers dig into your neck, and you’re barely able to hold his threatening gaze, already knowing that you’re not coming out on top of this.

“You’re coming back home with me. No fuckin' fuss, no complaining, and that’s final. Like hell I’m gonna let you get away from me, so you better start fixing that attitude.”  

He squeezes your neck, looking at you with deadly eyes. 

“You hear me? Brat.” 

He keeps his hand on the back of your neck when guiding you to your own car, unceremoniously pushing you to the passenger’s seat before claiming the steering wheel for himself. 

A few tears escape from your eyes and you turn your face to the window, ignoring the sharp looks Bakugo throws your way.

You hug yourself, all of your hope dissolving at the realization that you’re never truly gonna be free from him. 

[dumpywrites]

Cat-astrophe - Min Yoongi / Suga

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem. 

Genre/tags: Fluff-ish, strangers to ???, minor mention of anxiety.

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: cus we're all soft for long haired Yoongi, right? hehe

It had been officially a month since you had moved to a new apartment place. You loved the new place honestly. It was cozy and the neighborhood looked nice. There were many convenience store nearby and the street was always still busy until late at night, making you feel a little bit of secure when coming home late.

While the place was nice it had one tiny downside. It was rather on the far side from your workplace. It took you an hour of bus ride just to get home from the office, so some days could be more tiring than others. And today was one of those tiring days. 

It was around nine at night on a Monday. Having to work overtime for the deadline and missed the bus, really dreaded you out. You were both tired and hungry, arriving home only to find that your pet cat was missing. It really just was not your day.

To say you were panicking would be a bit of an understatement. Cookie was barely a four month-old cat and had a very tiny body. All the negative possibilities start filling your head and you were horrified by all of them. Not to mention how it was basically forbidden to bring pets in the apartment complex. It was one of the policies but you couldn't help it since Cookie was a rescue.

When you arrived at your apartment lobby with a cat snack on your hand, there wasn’t that many people there. You walked past a guy by the front desk, who had medium-length black locks and fair skin, with headphones dangling on his neck. You began to call your pet’s name as soon as you were outside the lobby, but suddenly you felt a light tap on your shoulder. 

“Are you looking for a small black Bombay cat?” It was the same guy who just walked past you.

“Oh my god, I am! Have you seen him???” You said, your voice was a little bit shaky. 

“He’s in my place, I’m on the seventh.” 

“Oh, me too!”

“I know.”

“Oh.” You said, surprised at how stoic he sounded saying that, but didn’t further question him on it. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, can I go get him now?”

“Sure, I was just gonna go up as well.”

When you both entered the elevator, you made a mental note to ask his name or at least introduce yourself. He was a neighbor after all. It was pretty silent inside the lift and you just hoped he didn’t hear your stomach rumbling ever so slightly. You took a deep breath, bearing the hunger for a little while. 

When the elevator door opened you followed him from behind as he led you to his door. When he stopped at his front door, your eyes were widened in shock. 

“You live next to me?!” 

“Yeah.” He said casually and unlocked the door. "I've seen you multiple times."

You chose to not further question and followed him but stopped when you had only took two steps in, because technically, the homeowner had not really officially permit you to come in. The guy seemed to notice how you just stood awkwardly and looked back. 

“You can sit down for a sec, I’ll go get him.” 

“Oh, right… yeah. Thank you.” You said awkwardly and walked to sit on his couch. 

A few seconds later the man came back with your cat in his embrace. Cookie was clinging on his tshirt before he tugged him and gave him onto your lap. 

“Cookie!” You called, almost teary. 

“I think he jumped from your balcony to mine. Make sure to close your balcony door next time.”

“Thank you so much, I owe you… uh…”

“Yoongi.” 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You repeated and introduced yourself in return. “I’m Y/N, and if you ever need anything please let me now.” You said as you stood up, already making your way out. 

“Also, thank you for not reporting it…”

“No problem.” Was all the guy said and by this point you figured he was not much of a talker. 

You bid your goodbye to your neighbor, which only gained a small nod before he closed the door on you. You walked to your door and let Cookie down as soon as you got inside. Sighing deeply, you began to feel your stomach rumble again, this time it rumbled quite loudly. Your feet were aching from standing on the bus and now your body finally got on how tired you were. 

Cookie meowed and immediately went to his cat bed and laid down. You sighed and smiled at the small creature. 

“You little rascal… you’re lucky I love you.” 

You then went to your kitchen to cook yourself some instant ramen. 

The next day you went to work and had to take another overtime. Unfortunately you had to for the rest of the week until your current project was done. It was exhausting but you had to make it and mostly thinking about the bonus pay from it helped quite a bit. You spent the next few days the same, repeating the schedules, and the tiring work. 

It was almost ten at night that you arrived home and found out Cookie had gone missing again. For some reason your first instinct was to knock on your next door, in hope the neighbor who once helped you, could lend you a hand again, and hoping maybe Cookie just ran to his place again instead of being gone somewhere where it wasn't safe for him.

You knocked on the door and didn’t get immediate answer. You waited for what felt like five minutes, before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of your neighbor with wet hair. He had a small white towel around his neck and the hoop earring that you saw him with before was absent. His skin looked glowing, you probably needed to ask about his skin care routine later.

“So sorry to interrupt you, I was wondering if Cookie might have gone to your place again?” 

“He’s right there on the couch.” He casually pointed. His expression was straight and had you wondering if he did not mind it, bothered, or simply didn’t care. 

You slowly walked to approach your cat and bent down to its level. “Cookie, you need to stop this…” You tapped the cat's nose, as if scolding the poor cat would do anything. 

“He jumped to my balcony again, did you forget to close the door?” 

“But I made sure to close it this morning…” You looked at your neighbor, who walked closer to inspect the cat. 

“I think he knows how to turn door knobs, since he’s quite a jumper. You need to lock the door.” 

“I can’t believe this little demon…” You sighed, fingers still stroking the purring cat. 

“He’s… alright.” 

You were slightly taken aback by the response and looked up to him, but much to your disappointment, his expression still looked the same. You were about to get up and excuse yourself, but you notice a small steel bowl under his dining table, half full with what you assumed to be cat milk (I mean, it would be weird if it was his, duh!). 

“You also have a cat?”

His eyes followed yours. “Oh, that. I got it the first time Cookie came here, I figured he must be thirsty since he came in around noon time.” 

“That’s… that’s very nice of you.” You looked at him and smiled. Somehow him addressing your cat by his name sounded lovely. 

“You can have the rest of the milk if you want, since you’ve figured out how he escaped and all…” 

“It’s okay, you can keep it! Just in case he ran into you again…” You chuckled but then stopped after realizing how that just sounded like you did not mind troubling him with your cat continuously. “I mean… I’m sorry, I’ll make sure he’ll never escape again.” 

“It’s alright, I’ll keep the milk for now.” He paused for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just in case.”

You looked at your neighbor and couldn’t help but to feel all warm inside. He seemed like a nice person and from the looks of it he also liked your cat. 

“Thank you so much, Yoongi. I’ll be taking this little guy here then...” You smiled at him and stood up with Cookie in your arms. 

“I got some dim sum…” 

You looked at the guy questioningly. 

“Do you maybe want some?” 

“That’d be too much, it’s okay, you go ahead and eat.” You politely declined. Although you were hungry, you could bring yourself to bother your neighbor any more than what you had done. 

“Have you eaten?” 

“Y-yeah?” You asked, afraid you heard it wrong. 

“Have you eaten?” He repeated. “If not, then I insist you take some.”

“I…” You wanted to lie, but at this point it would come off as rude if you refuse him again. “I actually haven’t. Thank you very much though, I feel so bad that you’re being this nice to me.”

“You can just eat them here.” 

“I don’t wanna disturb—“ You were awkwardly cut by the sound of your stomach rumbling. 

“You’re not disturbing me.” He cleared his throat and looked away. 

That was embarrassing. 

And that was how you ended up sitting down on your neighbor’s dining table, eating dim sums. 

In silence. 

This Yoongi guy really did not like conversation it seemed. He was sitting down on his couch and had turned the TV on. The volume was on but not quite loudly, and Cookie was on his lap, sleeping as he occasionally stroked the cat’s head softly. Funny that somehow you could see some resemblance of Yoongi with your cat.

“So… how long have you lived here?” You bit your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. You kind of regretted asking as soon as the words came out from your mouth, afraid it would be awkward. 

“Around ten months or so.” He paused. “No, I think it’s been almost a year cause I spent two months overseas.”

“Really? What were you doing overseas?” You regretted asking again. Looking at how quiet Yoongi was, you didn’t want to ask too much or indulge into too much conversation, afraid it would be too much for him. 

But much to your surprise, he answered. “I’m a producer. I was working for this artist and all the work had to be done in America.” 

“Wow, that sounds amazing!” You said. At this point you no longer were sitting facing the table, but to him. “Who was the artist?”

“Uh… Halsey.” He replied while looking at the TV screen, seemingly to avoid your stare.

“Oh my god???” You gasped. “That’s incredible! So you’re like crazy talented?!”

“I’m alright…” 

“You should show me some of your work someday!” You said enthusiastically. When Yoongi did not reply to it and stayed silent, you cursed yourself internally. “I mean compared to what I do that’s like really amazing.” You chuckled nervously. 

“I’m sure you’re great at what you do.” He looked at you, a small smile was on his lips. 

You realized it was the first time you saw him smile and it made your heart raced rather faster than usual. It was the first time you saw him with facial expression other than his usual poker face. 

“I’m just a normal product designer at a very normal company.” You shrugged. 

“Don’t downplay yourself like that. You work very hard.” 

“Thanks…” You replied shyly. 

After finishing your food, you got up and went to wash the dishes, which immediately got stopped by the homeowner. He politely told you to go back home and rest. Which again, you could not thank him more for. 

You took your pet in your arms and said your goodbyes to your neighbor. Right when you arrived back in your place you came to realize something. Yoongi did not eat with you and there was only one portion of the food. While it could just meant he had already eaten beforehand, you felt giddy, thinking about another possibility. Was this a crush you sense forming? Frankly speaking, you could not care less. You were welcoming the possibility with open arms.

— 

Friday finally came and you were ready to take it in. The days of working with your company project was going to an end, which meant you no longer need to work overtime after this. The thought of it put you in a very good mood. 

This time right after arriving home, you walked to a nearby chicken restaurant and grab some not only for you, but also for your neighbor. You wanted to repay his kindness the past few days. After changing into some comfortable clothes, not to mention the multiple times you had to re-check the outfit in the mirror for some reason, you took your cat in your left hand and the food in the other. You knocked on your neighbor’s door hoping he was home. 

And he was. You were greeted with his silence but he opened the door wider as soon as he saw your face without question. One thing that caught your eyes though was how he was dressed up like he was ready for a night out. He wasn’t in his usual sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, but instead in a ripped wide legged jeans and a light blue shirt, unbuttoned, with a plain white tee underneath. He looked handsome. And here you were, in your so-called comfy outfit that you were starting to regret.

“Before you ask, no, Cookie’s right here.” You smiled awkwardly as you raised the small cat in your hand for him to see. “I’m just here to drop by some chicken I got for you… as a thanks for your help these past few days.” You handed the plastic of food to him. “Alright, that’s all…”

He took the food from you hesitantly. “You don’t wanna come in?” 

“Aren’t you going out or something?”

“I was… but you are here.” He said, sounding unsure. 

“That’s ridiculous, why would I stop you from going out?”

“I was gonna go to your place…” 

Your mouth formed a small O shape, unable to form a word. He was going to your place? But what for??? The butterflies in your stomach were having a blast. 

“But you’re all dressed up…”

“I was gonna change back.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, which made you gulped at the sight. “I knew this was a bad idea I shouldn't have listened to Hoseok—”

You stopped his rambling. “What do you mean?”

“I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go eat together at that one Chicken restaurant nearby…”

“Oh.” You widened your eyes.

“Yeah.” He looked at you, biting his cheek in annoyance. 

“This is awkward.” You chuckled. 

“Whatever, just… just come in first.”

You saw Yoongi putting the plastic of food on his table. You offered help after putting down your cat on his couch and walked to his direction. Both of you plated the food in comfortable silence, it felt oddly domestic and you liked it. At this point you were used to him being not talkative and see it as his charm. 

After you took the plates to the living room, Yoongi suddenly came back with cans of beers and soju in his hands. 

“We’re drinking?” You said with an amused grin. 

“You can drink, right?” 

“Sure, but can you?” You playfully eyed him. 

“Don’t challenge me.” 

You could see how he was trying to hide his smile, and it brought colors to your cheeks. 

—

You did not know how you got in this situation. Five episodes in randomly rewatching Avatar The Last Airbender and you both were drunk. You were resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the screen. It seemed like the booze gave you confidence, or made you shameless, or both, but the guy didn’t complain so it could be a sign of a good thing. While you could see Yoongi holding his alcohol better than you, he was not completely sober either. 

It was at this very moment where you saw things through a pink tinted lense. Had Yoongi’s hair always looked that soft? Had he always looked this handsome? You began to question things you should not be questioning.

“Why didn’t you change your clothes?” You randomly asked. 

“Do I look bad?” He replied, eyes still on the screen, hands stroking the sleeping cat on his lap. 

"Of course not, I just feel severely underdressed now..." You chuckled.

He eyed you from top to bottom, which made you nervous, but he shrugged, seemingly to not have any problem with your clothes.

“You look… handsome.”

“You think I look handsome?” He suddenly moved to face you, making you move to look at him as well. The tone of his voice sounded like he was teasing more than asking a question.

You nodded and bit your lips. “And you kinda look like Cookie.” You giggled. 

He raised one of his eyebrows, clearly not satisfied with your answer. 

“Your eyes…” You began to ramble. “They look just like Cookie’s, and when you look annoyed, or just your plain expression… you look like a cute cat.” 

“Really…” Yoongi hummed. 

“Yup!” You giggled like an idiot. 

You failed to notice how at this point, Yoongi has put Cookie down from his lap to the floor. His face only inches away from you as you kept rambling. 

“Your hair look so soft… like a cat’s fur.” You reached your hands closer to his hair, but stopped mid-way, scared he’d get uncomfortable. 

Yoongi surprised you again by grabbing both of your wrist and putting your hands on his hair, letting you stroke his head slowly. You saw his expression softened and as you kept playing with his hair, he closed his eyes. You swore you heard him purr. 

“Pretty.” You said with a drunk smile. 

“Hmm. Pretty.” He mirrored. 

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense. 

Yoongi chuckled. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.” 

—

To be frank, you could not recall what happened after. You recalled some bits of karakoe-ing? Singing random PSY songs in your broken Korean using a bottle of whiskey as your mic. That was probably all? You couldn’t think while the throbbing headache was present in the room with you.

So why were you now in a bed that was not yours, wearing a t-shirt that was too big for you and was clearly not yours, also for heaven’s sake, WHY IS YOONGI SLEEPING NEXT TO ME??? 

You froze. Did you??? There was no way. Sure you found him attractive and all, and you definitely had this huge crush on him, but you couldn’t just sleep with a guy you barely knew. Besides your headache, your body didn’t feel any pain, so that was probably a good sign. What if he was just that gentle? Okay, you need to stop thinking at once before you started a whole fiction about you and Yoongi in your head.

When you turned your back, you felt the other side of the bed shifted as well. 

“You’re up?” He asked with a raspy voice. 

“Yeah.” You said, still back-facing him. “We didn’t… you know…”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Oh, okay good.”

Yoongi did not answered to that, but instead you felt him scooting closer. 

“I’m sorry, this isn’t probably how you’d wanna spend your weekend.” You chuckled. 

Your breath hitched when you felt a hand over your waist. “Is this okay?” He suddenly stopped when your body tensed at his touch. 

You nodded, heart beating too loudly for you to form any sentence. 

“This is nice.” He said, resting his forehead on your back. 

When you stayed silent, he took your hand and turned you over to face him. Heat immediately took over your body as soon as your eyes meet. You noticed he was back in his usual home attire, oversized tee and sweatpants. His hair was messy, but it seemed like universe had its favorite cause he still looked good. 

“You know, I haven’t had good sleep in… weeks.”

You were surprised by his sudden confession.

“It’s half past eleven now, and it’s not even ten minutes after I woke up…” He tittered. “My anxiety has been getting worse the past month and out of nowhere a black cat suddenly jumped to my balcony, meowing non-stop while I was working.”

You looked at him, letting him finish his talk. This was the most words you had ever heard coming out of Yoongi’s mouth and it made your heart flutter. 

“I haven’t been caring. I’ve stopped caring, for a while now. Seeing you care so much for such a small creature… I don’t know, it feels good. It makes me wanna care.”

“Yoongi…” You cooed, caressing his cheek. "It's not true, all you have been since I first met you until this moment, was caring."

"I'm sorry if it feels like it came out of nowhere but I feel at home with you and I don’t know why...” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yet, at least.”

“I… like this too. A lot actually.” You said shyly. 

“I would like to get to know you more if you’d like.” He was being honest and exactly to the point, no flirty bullshit to spice his sentences.

“I’d love that...” 

Suddenly you heard a low meow from under the bed and Cookie jumped into the bed, joining you two. Apparently his bedroom door was left opened and none of you noticed how Cookie had entered. You giggled and he smiled as well, the widest smile and the most genuine you had ever seen from him, as he took the cat and cuddled both of you close.

"I think it's about time you give me your number..." You squinted at him playfully. "You know, so we don't repeat the whole chicken restaurant accident again?"

“Okay, but promise me first you won’t apologize again after kissing me.” He chuckled. 

“EXCUSE ME WHAT???”

— 

“Okay, call me crazy but why do I kinda wanna kiss you right now.” You said, totally losing the battle with your common sense. 

Yoongi laughed. “You’re crazy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking to the right. “I like it.” 

“I can be crazier if you open that whiskey.” You wiggled your eyebrows.

Yoongi just shook his head, smiling at your silliness. He stood up and went to grab his Hibiki anyway, which earned a shout of celebration from you. 

Things escalated quickly after opening the bottle. Somehow you were starting a drunk karaoke session which followed by many dance breaks. You ended up crying when a sad song randomly came up in the playlist and when Yoongi asked why, you replied. You replied with your lips on his.

In your head it just made sense. It was his lips’ fault for looking so juicy. Yeah, totally his fault for looking so hot that it was driving you insane.

None of you moved and it only lasted seconds before your mood turned sour again. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean…” You pushed him gently. “Oh my god, you’re so gonna hate me!!!”

“Hey, calm down…“ 

You started to panic, tears now forming in your eyes again. “Please don’t hate me, I just wanted to kiss you…” You cried. 

“Okay, I think that’s enough drinking—“

And you puked. 

Yes, Yoongi did see your lilac colored bra when he helped you change into his t-shirt. But that’s a secret between him and little Cookie. 

Thank you for reading! 💎

part 2 is here!

[ashasdiary]

Pumpkin

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!nanami (later father!Nanami) being super domestic during your pregnancy, birth, and arrival of your baby. 

CW: a smidge 🤏🏻 of angst but mainly FLUFF, pet names, established relationship, pregnancy, birth, babies  WC: 1.9k A/N: this is a sequel to Vitamins but can be read as a standalone if the smut in Vitamins is not your jam. Enjoy this fluffy goodness 🥹

Ever since those two tests had very loudly informed you of your pregnancy, Nanami had not let you lift a single finger to do anything. Not that he had even before your pregnancy — your husband’s love language was acts of service — but now? He was very hyperactive in taking care of you. 

“Honey, did you note down the appointment time in the calendar?”

“Honey, did you take your folic acid?”

“Honey, you’ve been on your feet too much today. You need to rest.”

“Honey, do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Kento,” you sigh, “I’m fine, really. It’s still early stages.”

“And you have to be careful during the early stages,” he notes. 

“I know. But you’re also treating me like I’m china and…it’s just…a bit too much,” you say. You didn’t want to tell him this, because you knew he meant well, but you also had to communicate your feelings to him. You were worried he’d be upset when you did, but he looks at you apologetically, seemingly taking it in his stride. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to make you feel…suffocated. I was worried I was being too overbearing, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I want to do as much as I can for you. And the baby,” he explains in one breath. Your eyes soften and you step into his embrace, hugging him tightly, burying your face into his neck. 

“I do. I’ve always known that. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I would also like to do things myself sometimes.”

“I understand. I’ll be more mindful, my love,” he rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Thank you, Ken. I love you,” you kiss his cheek and he turns his face to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. 

Every week, you’d made it tradition to take a side profile picture of the bump along with the fruit that the baby was the size of. This was Nanami’s idea, of course, and he made it creative and fun. Seeing him be so excited for the arrival of your child made your heart swell with joy. 

He’d very proudly started to create a scrapbook of all the happenings during your pregnancy which he was eager to show your child when they got older. 

Interestingly, Nanami did not want to do a gender reveal when the ultrasound technician offered to write it down at one of the scans. And you couldn’t fault his logic when he later explained, “It’s silly. It’s a social construct. We’ll find out when they’re born, and regardless, even then it won’t matter. We’ll still love them the same.”

Every craving, every need, he provided. Including the need to jump his bones in the second trimester. Damn, did he keep up with you. You knew it was because he found the cute little swell of your belly so incredibly sexy — he’d voiced it on numerous occasions — knowing he’d done that, nothing made him more unhinged. 

Ever the doting husband and expectant father, he’d started reading up more about babies and often tell you facts you’d have never known. “Did you know that your heart grows bigger during pregnancy?” He informs you while you’re laid back on the couch, on opposite ends, 5 months in. 

“I…did not know that,” you blink, surprised. 

“Yep. It’s to help the heart pump more blood to the baby. Babies can also cry in the womb.”

“Oh no,” you pout, “I don’t want baby to cry.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, hon, they’ve been quite gentle so far. You can sing to them, they’ll hear it by now. And talking to them in another language is also beneficial,” he notes and you let out a soft laugh at how he’s rattling off these fun facts. 

“Your brain truly amazes me sometimes, Ken, it’s like a sponge,” you prop your arm up and rest your chin on your hand. 

“So’s the baby’s right now. We should get a Duolingo subscription and get them started on another language already,” he jokes and you let out a hearty laugh, which earns you a little kick in protest from your baby. 

“Well, your child just said no to that,” you giggle. 

His mouth falls open and he scoots over and lies between your legs, coming face to face with your bump. “Listen here, you little squirt, you will learn another language whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, daddy’s setting rules,” you whisper. 

“And in addition to that language, which you will be fluent in, you’ll also learn jujutsu,” Kento tells your bump definitively. You laugh at how he’s instructing the baby firmly one minute and then lovingly pressing kisses to your skin the next. 

He relaxes against you, and you decide to tell him a fact you’d found out recently. “Did you know that eggs can pick and choose whether the sperm gets to fertilise it? For a while, I thought it was just a race of the best sperm to get to the egg. But the egg can reject it if it wants to. Isn’t that fascinating?”

He raises an eyebrow in slight surprise and amusement at this newfound knowledge. He wasn’t aware of that little detail either, but he finds it very intriguing. “That’s pretty impressive. I had no idea that they had such power over which sperm gets to fertilise them. Who knew eggs were such shrewd gatekeepers?”

“Right? But my egg was a terrible gatekeeper. Probably a combination of that and your sperm just being overachievers.”

He laughs heartily at your comment, the image of his overly ambitious sperm and your easy-going egg combining to form your miracle is quite the amusing picture. 

“Well, I do have some pretty strong swimmers, I can’t deny that. And your egg must have had a weak moment, letting my little overachievers through. But I'm glad it did,” he smiles warmly at you, his hand gently rubbing your leg. 

There were moments where you couldn’t wait to meet the little one, but you also found yourself getting emotional a few times that it wouldn’t just be you and him anymore. When he notices your glassy eyes one day while you’re eating breakfast, he frowns and takes your hand in his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The dam suddenly bursts — darned pregnancy hormones — and you start to bawl, managing to say between breaths, “It’s— not— going to— be just— you and me any— anymore…”

He has to stop himself from laughing at your sudden realisation and he circles around the dining table, embracing you. 

“And I know how stupid I sound right now, because I wanted this, and still do, but I’m— I’m just…scared,” you cry, inhaling shaky breaths. “What if I’m not a good mother? What if parenthood is the complete opposite of what I envision it to be?” You ramble.  

He rubs your back gently and comforts you, kissing the crown of your head as you rest it on his chest. “I know, honey. You don’t sound stupid. It’s natural to feel nervous. Parenthood is a new venture for both of us but it won’t be vastly different to what we think it’ll be. And you’ll be a fantastic mother. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, you’ll never be alone. We’re doing this together. We’ll make mistakes together. Clean up messes together. Strive together. It’ll be alright.”

His words of reassurance bring you a sense of calm and you feel the warmth of comfort spread through you slowly, easing your anxieties. 

He reassured you every time you felt any sense of worry or sadness, provided the love that you needed and more, and was a real anchor to harbouring your emotions. 

Week 40 arrived before you knew it. With a bright and large orange pumpkin in hand, you took what you hoped would be the last picture for the scrapbook. You both subsequently started referring to the baby as “pumpkin” that week. Every day that week, he had tried to coax them out with sweet words. 

“Are you gonna come out today, pumpkin? Today’s a good day to join us, I think. The weather’s nice out. You should come see it,” he whispered to your bump in the morning before you were awake. 

When your baby decided that they were ready to come out, Nanami was there, holding your hand the entire time, not once letting go. You were quite afraid of this final hurdle but with Nanami by your side, you knew you’d be okay. 

It was a long and tiring 14 hours, exhaustion was settled into your bones, but when you finally, finally give the final push and the baby is out, you cry. From the relief of birth being over, from the new chapter that had just opened, from having sight of the baby that you and Nanami had made. 

Nanami kisses your head, eyes glassy as he whispers praises of how well you did, that it’s over and that he’s so proud of you. 

The midwife places pumpkin onto your chest for some skin to skin, placing a blanket on top, the little thing curled up and looking disapproving of being pushed out of the coziness of your womb. 

Nanami chuckles softly as he peers over and the baby’s rosy lips tremble before they take their first breath and start to cry quietly. You sniffle as you wipe your own tears and look at your husband and he kisses your forehead. 

You hush the baby gently, speaking softly, “You’re here, pumpkin…here with us. I’ve got you.” 

After they cut the umbilical cord, the afterbirth comes out, and the midwives take the baby to bathe, clothe, take measurements, and bundle them up. 

“How do you feel?” Kento asks, holding your hand still as you stand up, ready to take a shower. 

“I feel a little empty inside, it also hurts. Not looking forward to peeing,” you sigh and he caresses your back gently. 

“You’ll get better with time, honey,” he guides you to the shower room.

There, he tends to all of your needs, helping you carefully wash up, dry off, put ice and a giant pad on, and then your clothes. You could almost cry from his attentiveness.

You hug him and squeeze gently, gazing up at him gratefully and lovingly. “What did I do to deserve you?” You whisper. 

He smiles sweetly, caressing your cheek and giving you a chaste peck. “You can’t say that after you just pushed our baby out,” he chuckles. You laugh softly and you hold each other for a moment longer, before you both go back into the room.

There, the midwives wheel the bassinet over to you, where pumpkin is awake and looking for something to come into focus. 

“She’s very healthy, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami.”

“She?” You repeat, feeling your heart flutter. A sweet little girl. 

Nanami smiles to himself, he’s elated. He has a daughter. “Sweetheart, come on, look at her lips, they’re totally yours.”

You give him a small smile, eyes filling with happy tears as you both fawn over your daughter. It was a little early to tell, but you hope she has his eyes. She had a bunch of blonde hair, too.

“Hold her, Ken,” you whisper and he obliges, gently picking her up and angling his arms perfectly to fit his little angel against him. 

He’s quiet for a minute, just soaking up the feeling of having his daughter in his arms, the warmth of her, her existence setting in. 

“Now, about those language lessons that you refused to do…” he speaks to her in a gentle tone, and your lips curl into a bigger smile at his jokes, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, little miss. Any objections?”

He’s quiet for a beat and the baby just pouts as she looks up at her father, which you laugh softly at. “Good choice. Maybe start to brush up on some Malay, sweet pea, your mama and I will be taking you to Malaysia one day soon,” he promises to her you feel your heart flutter in your chest at the thought.

The three of you, your little family, in your shared happy place. Something out of a dream, but soon would be reality.

You couldn’t wait.

Read the sequel, Pumpkin's First Birthday, here <3

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[avaf00rd]

viral video

Leah Williamson x reader

Paris, France • 25 September

Leah watched you and giggled like a schoolgirl, sinking into the cloud-like duvet whilst you danced around the small hotel room.

‘Cry to me’ by Solomon Burke played through your girlfriend’s small speaker, a classic that you had known the lyrics to your whole life.

The glass of champagne that was being held in your hand as you danced and sang was spilling on the carpet the more you went on, only adding to Leah’s tipsy giggles.

“Ooh play stand by me!” You jumped on the bed pulling the hand of your girlfriend off the bed and back onto the carpet with you

“Okay just wait” she said turning around back to her phone to search for the song on her playlist. When the song started to play you aggressively pulled her arm back towards you. Causing it to also yank the champagne glass she held in her hand “y/n!” Leah whined, corners of her lips turning up the slightest, “that’s where we are sleeping!”

“Your pillow not mine” you shrugged cheekily as you pulled her close to you “now enjoy the moment” champagne still in hand as you wrapped your arms around her neck, keeping her closer.

Leah Hummed in content against the side of your head, before using her position to her advantage so she could easily pull you in for a kiss.

The kiss was slow, and expressed with a million love thoughts, a smile felt by both of you against your lips when you tried to pull away and Leah wouldn’t let you. “Okay now you have to dance with me” you said once Leah finally let you pull away from her lips. “Take your robe off” you said pulling at it’s strings

“No you cheeky girl” Leah laughed “I’ve got nothing on and you haven’t shut the windows”

“Why not. I’m in little pyjamas and your in that massive robe”

“Does it make me look massive?” Leah said with a childish pout

“Shut up no” you said moving her hands so they were holding yours, slowly guiding her to dance with you. “See not terrible?” You laughed looking straight into her eyes

“No not terrible at all” Leah playfully huffed

With interlocked hands, you and Leah slowly danced, with the incorrect footwork and Leah tripping slightly nearly every step, but you felt so happy in this moment, just as ‘I only have eyes for you’ by the Flamingos started to play on your girlfriend’s phone.

“This will be playing at our wedding” you smiled at Leah

“First dance?”

“No I haven’t thought it that way yet. The first dance song has to be perfect to a tee” you said

“Any song. I’ll still be the happiest wife in the world” Leah whispered lovingly

“No ones holding you back from proposing Lee” you shrugged and raised your eyebrows, Leah rolling her eyes, a manner she kept up every time you brought that up

“Hush” Leah cooed at you as she held your head into the crook of her neck for a moment whilst you continued to dance

“I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright” you sing with a smirk on your face, implying that you would both start singing the rest of the song now

“I only have eyes…” Leah sang softly, sometimes embarassed to sing, but you found it angelic when she did. She looked deep into your eyes like she would find the meaning of the existence in them, before she dipped you slowly “for you” she sang the last part, as your head tilt back giggling once she pulled you up

“The moon may be high”

“but I can’t see a thing in the sky”

“And I only have eyes” you both sang together, giggling slightly “for you-“ before you cut both of you off in an instance as you kissed Leah passionately in the moment, she dipped you back once again. Melting at the way you pulled away from her lips to laugh from how low she had your back

“I love you forever” She told you

“My girl I love you forever”

“C’mon keep dancing with me” Leah smiled before spinning you around.

Two weeks later, preseason was officially over and you were doing some final training before you and your teammates would get on a plane to America for the preseason tour.

“Thank you darling” Leah said to you, in the dining room as you brought over a plate of breakfast for her along with yours, her’s consisting of scrambled eggs and tomato sauce, and your’s an omelette with avocado and sweet potatoes. Some of the things Leah despised.

“You’re blowing up!” Katie said, bursting in dramatically through the doors from the hall, pointing at you and your girlfriend

“What you on about?” Leah asked, focused on getting her egg on the fork

“The sweet video. Aw it’s cute!” Beth exclaimed from the other side of the room getting her own food

“What video now I’m scared” you said trying to look at Katie’s phone as she brought it down to show you two

A TikTok with a whopping one million likes was playing, and it was of you and Leah in the window of your Parisian hotel room filmed by a random person, captioned ‘found the most ADORABLE couple in Paris and it made my day’. You could only faintly tell it was you. But fans had apparently put two and two together and instantly recognised you

“I-“ you muttered speechless at the video taken

Leah was just thinking with her eyebrows scrunched, what a breach of privacy, someone filming you in your hotel room she thought, but how adorable the video was. it was just the clips together of Leah dipping you every now and then, as well as the two of you spinning each other

“The comments figured out it was yous’” Katie grinned “congrats influencers”

“Oh my gosh” you laughed covering your face with your hands

“It’s a bit disrespectful innit?” Leah said to you

“I see videos like that all the time. It’s so cute” you cooed, pulling her side in annoyingly

“I just hope you two closed the curtains before you got on with the rest of your night” Beth said smirking, before taking a seat at the table with the rest of you guys

You and Leah let out a low chuckle at her comment, before everyone got into their food and you and Leah exchanged a qwide eyed look

A/N : one of the small blurbs that had been sitting here. But I changed a heap so it’s a bit newer. I’ll try to get some more out of my drafts. Ly !

[hxney-lemcn]

Looking Out For You — Giyū Tomioka x gn! hashira! reader

summary: your decision to befriend the reclusive water hashira turns your life around for the better.

tw: anxious and insecure reader, awkward convos, non-descriptive injuries, mentions of getting stitches.

a/n: I finally wrote for Kimetsu no Yaiba, been a fan of this when there was only one season of the show (read the entire manga as it got updated).

wc: 6k

Master List

It was no secret that the water hashira was a loner. He stuck to himself and blended into the background. At first you were neutral towards him, you were similar in a sense. Kept to yourself and tried to blend into the background. The big difference is that not only were you friends with the love hashira, but you had managed to endear yourself towards some of the others. You weren’t sure how you did it, but it was nice to know that they cared. For Giyū Tomioka, it was the complete opposite. 

You could only hear insults towards the man for so long. A part of you related to him, and hearing Kochō be so passive aggressive towards him made you feel unsettled. So you made up your mind, you were going to try and befriend Tomioka. You had been completely alone before, and you had wished for someone to befriend you, so you were sure he was longing for the same. 

You had told Mitsuri of your plan as you both walked towards the Ubuyashiki Estate. You all had been called for a brief. These were rare, but it was nice to see how your fellow hashira’s were, and also a perfect excuse to try and talk to the water hashira. Mitsuri was nearly jumping up and down at the information, an excited grin overtaking her features. 

“That’s so cute!” She squealed, clasping her hands together. “You have to tell me how it goes.”

“I already feel like I’m going to fail,” You said, slightly sweating at the thought. “Last time I tried to make a friend it ended up really awkward because I never know what to say.”

“Hm,” She hummed in thought. “Just try and find a connection.”

You purse your lips, “That’s easier said than done.”

It wasn’t much longer before you found yourself sitting next to the stoic man. Ubuyashiki was going over statistics, how we could improve and how well we’ve been doing. I felt myself getting more anxious by the second. After the meeting I would try and at least say hi, but I was wondering if that was a good idea. Seconds ticked by while you had basically toned out Ubuyashiki’s smooth voice, fingers fidgeting in your lap. Once you were all excused, you hyped yourself up, looking over to the black haired man.

 “Hello!” You said a little too loudly, a nervous smile adorned your lips as  you gained Tomioka’s attention. 

His blank stare watched you for a few seconds before replying, “Excuse me.”

Then he left. 

…just like that. You blinked, mouth dropping in slight awe at just how fast he managed to escape. You had spent so long going over situations and anxious thoughts…only for him to barely acknowledge you. 

You didn’t even realize Mitsuri joined you until she spoke up, “Maybe next time?”

You turned your attention to the green eyed beauty, a pout adorning your lips, “He didn’t even say hi back.”

“Ara ara~” Kochō joined us, an empty smile placed on her lips. “I’m afraid it’s a lost cause.”

Your playful pout had turned into a frown, your feelings towards the insect pillar were mixed. She was blunt, which would be nice at times, but others it could be harsh. “Oh well,” You shrugged. “At least I’ll be able to say I tried.”

You had accidently ran into Tomioka only a few days later. You were walking back to your estate, exhausted after a long mission. It was more tedious than difficult, as the walking had been longer than the fight by far. You couldn’t believe your eyes when they landed on the split patterned haori. Before your anxiety could get the best of you, you approached him.

“Hello!” You waved, this time not shouting. “How are you doing Tomioka-san?”

Once again his stoic features watched you briefly, like he was trying to gauge your intentions, “I’m doing fine.”

Yes! He couldn’t run away like last time, you’ll make sure of it.

“How old are you?” You asked, genuinely curious. He looked both young and old in a sense, and you were curious where you stood compared to your ages.

Another awkward pause as you both stood on the trail, Tomioka finally answered, “Ninteen.”

Your mouth dropped open, unable to hide your surprise, “Nineteen! I thought you were at least twenty-two!” Tamioka only glanced away awkwardly, and you waved your hands around. “Not that it's a bad thing, I’m only twenty! So we’re really close in age. Besides, Tokitō’s fourteen so nineteen isn’t that bad…sorry I’m rambling.”

Your anxiety started to run rampant, this is the most you had spoken to the water pillar and it was really awkward. You both seemed to be in the same boat as he awkwardly nodded, arms crossed as his eyes couldn’t meet yours. An awkward silence encompassed you both and you felt yourself losing your composure.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized again, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “I want to befriend you but I’m very bad at talking to others. Mitsuri-chan recommended finding something we both relate to, but I am unsure how to do that.” You weren’t sure if your mind was playing tricks on you, but you swore Tomioka’s eyes widened slightly, head tilting ever so slightly. He almost reminded you of a puppy. 

“We shouldn’t be friends,” Tomioka’s tone spoke with finality. Your brows furrowed, you could understand him saying that, but the sting of rejection overpowered your thoughts. Normally you’d bow as an apology and scurry away to mull over all the points in which you made yourself look like a fool, but your wish to friend him overpowered that.

“Why not?” You asked, a slight frown pulling on your lips. 

Tomioka opened his mouth only to close it, eyebrows furrowing in thought. Finally, he replied, “I don’t want to be friends with you.”

You nodded, the sting of rejection spreading. You felt your face flush in embarrassment as you bowed, “I apologize, I wish you well Tomioka-san.”

You quickly turned around, rushing towards your estate, shame and embarrassment continuing to flood through you. You had quickly written a letter to Mitsuri, venting about how embarrassed you were. You had been sent on another mission shortly after, allowing you to forget about your embarrassing fiasco, at least for a brief moment. You were nearly back to normal, your restless nights finally ceasing as the memory started to fade to the back of your mind. Until it was violently forced back to the forefront.

You had found yourself resting in the same wisteria house as Giyū Tomioka. You both sat in silence, eating your food without acknowledging the other. It felt wrong, like you should say something, but those words he spoke rang in your head, holding you back, ‘I don’t want to be friends with you.’ 

You hate to admit it, but that simple sentence had brung back insecurities you thought you had overcome. You didn’t blame him, not at all. It wasn’t Tomioka’s fault that you had seemed to crumble due to one person's seemingly unapproval of you. You ate with your head bowed, hoping that you weren’t annoying him in any way. Was it the way you looked? The way you talked? Had you rambled too much in your nervousness? Did your mere aura annoy him? If so, you felt even more guilty for making him sit in your presence. 

Tomioka on the other hand hadn’t noticed your inner dilemma. Although he did find you seeming to shrink in on yourself further and further unusual, he wasn’t sure what your normal was. You hadn’t seemed to act like this around the other hashira’s, he only saw glimpses of you. If he were to be honest, he had seen the way you interacted with Mitsuri, so lively and happy. He wished he could experience that side of you, but he knew he had ruined any chance already. ‘I don’t want to be friends with you,’ those words haunted him. It was a lie, he did in fact want to be friends with you, but you were better off without him. He would only manage to drag you down.

“Are you finished?” Tomioka asked. You hadn’t even realized you had stopped eating. Looking up at him for the first time, you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh! Uh, yeah,” You stumbled. “Here, I can clean up.” Moving faster than he could protest, you had grabbed the empty bowls and started cleaning, not wanting to be a burden. The lady of the house was surprised when you approached her with the dirty dishes, asking where to set them. When she protested you helping her wash them, you begrudgingly made your way back to your shared room for the night. 

“Thank you,” Tomioka spoke up randomly, causing you to glance at him.

“It’s okay,” You shrugged, prepping your futon to your liking. “I like helping.”

It was harder for you to fall asleep than you’d like to admit. You had been running around for the past few days and it seemed that your mind couldn’t settle just yet. You kept your eyes closed, willing yourself to sleep as your body felt exhausted. 

It was even harder for you to fall asleep as Tomioka had murmured into the night, “I wish we could be friends, but this is for the best.”

Great, now you really weren’t going to fall asleep. 

The sun was just starting to shine through the windows, causing you to slowly wake up. You were surprised that you had awoken earlier than Tomioka. He looked so peaceful, the usual tension in his face had been relaxed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you went to take care of yourself in the bathroom. Your foggy mind slowly remembered the restless night before, how Tomioka had confessed to wanting to be friends with you when he thought you were asleep. Now that you knew that you weren’t the problem/reason, you were going to try even harder to befriend him.

When you returned to the room, you had half expected the room to be empty, but to your delight, Tomioka was still there, having just woken up.

“Good morning,” You smiled sleepily, still feeling sluggish. You tried to ignore how cute he looked as he rubbed his eyes.

“Good morning,” Tomioka replied back softly. 

“Did you sleep well?” You asked, hoping to keep the conversation going. While talking, you made your way to your satchel, making sure everything was in order.

“Yes,” He replied, the sounds of shuffling cloth coming from behind you. Glancing back, you watched as he was about to leave. “Excuse me,” He alerted, sliding the door open and leaving. At first you thought he was leaving completely like the last time, except you noticed his sword was still in the room. 

‘Good,’ You thought. ‘He should at least eat something before leaving.’

The lady of the house knocked on the door before entering, a bright smile on her face. You both chatted briefly as she set up a zataku table, loading some food on top. Tomioka entered the room not long after, glancing at the food but ignoring it. Swallowing the bite of taiyaki, I spoke up, “You should join me! The food’s really good.”

“I’m not hungry,” Tomioka muttered.

You bit your lip, trying to think of how you could get to know him better, “Not even for just a bite of rice?” His deep blue eyes glanced at me, pausing before he grabbed his sword, then his eyes drifted to the food. “I really can’t eat this all by myself,” You said, hoping that would finally entice him. It seemed your persuasive skills were better than you thought (or his loneliness was finally getting the best of him). 

As you both sat at the table, you found yourself rambling about your mission. The awkwardness between the both of you from before had seemed to vanish (on your end at least) as you talked to fill the silence. How the demon’s you were sent to kill had become more challenging, how the treck left you exhausted, how awkward you were around to kakushi. It got to the point of you rambling about this cute Ezo red fox you saw.

Tomioka may be a bit oblivious at times, but he had noticed this drastic change. Just last night you barely let out a peep, and now you were talking about anything and everything. He didn’t mind, no one has talked with him in such a way since…Sabito. It felt very bittersweet for him. He could only ponder on what caused your change, and he hoped that you hadn’t heard his confession last night. Especially since he found his will to be weaker than he’d like to admit. 

…

Misturi was a very good listener. The way she’d dramatically gasp or watch with bated breath. You knew she was hanging on to every word you spoke. When you had finished filling her in on everything that had happened between both you and Tomioka she squealed. 

“You two are so cute!” She smiled brightly, finishing another bowl of pork cutlet.

“More like we’re both awkward,” You mumbled. Picking at your food (still only on your first portion).

“He said he wanted to be your friend!” She pointed at you with her chopsticks. 

“But I’m not sure how to proceed,” You complained. “Do I just keep talking his ear off about random stuff? I feel like that’ll get annoying quickly.”

“Why don’t you get him something?” She asked, sipping some tea. “Maybe that’ll open him a little.”

“Hmm,” You pondered. What would you even get him? “Maybe.”

So you had continued to think about what a reclusive water hashira may like. It didn’t help that you were in the midst of a market. Vendors resided on either side, showing off their wares to entice customers to view their stalls. You took in the sites, yet nothing really caught your eyes. That was until a vendor who was selling omamori. You were surprised to find someone selling these charms outside of a shrine, so you were a bit weary of the product, but they seemed to be made from genuinely good materials.

You perused the items, there were many different colors and intentions. Finally, you picked out a blue omamori that wishes for happiness. You didn’t really think much of it. You did, in fact, wish Tomioka happiness. The rest of your mission went smoothly, and you sent Tomioka a letter upon your arrival. In the time it took for your crow to come back, you had almost forgotten of the invite. You felt yourself waiting anxiously for the time to come, tidying up your estate even more (much to the kakushi’s dismay), making sure you had enough tea and snacks. 

By the time Tomioka had arrived, you already had two cups of tea and a snack platter set out on your engawa. It was a nice warm and bright sunny day, and you might as well enjoy the scenery of the forest that surrounded your estate. You greeted him with a bright smile, coaxing him to sit down. The both of you savored the tea, sipping in silence. It was nice. Normally you’d feel pressured to say something, like you were failing at keeping the other person entertained, but at the moment you felt peaceful. Sharing a warm cup of tea on a nice day with someone you cared about. 

You watched as the sun rays fell down, barely hitting the forest floor. Rabbits hopping about as insects buzzed around. You quite liked your estate, you were grateful for all that Ubuyashiki has given you. It was in a secluded area not too far from a small village. It gave you a space for yourself, but you were still close enough to society that you weren’t a hermit. You enjoyed nature as well, watching animals was one of your favorite hobbies as you discovered silly little behaviors that they would do. Though as a hashira you found yourself having less and less time to yourself. 

“I have something for you,” You finally spoke up. You both had finished a cup of tea and some of the snacks were gone. You turned your gaze to Tomioka, only to meet his ocean blue eyes. You took the omamori out of your pocket and handed it to the water hashira. He hesitated before finally accepting the gift. You bit your lips, trying to suppress the giant grin that threatened to spread across your lips. A light pink dusted across his cheeks as he stared at it. 

“You didn’t have to,” He replied, eyes still on the gift. “...thank you.”

“No biggie,” You waved it off. “I saw it and thought of you.” You didn’t realize what you said until you had said it. Your eyes widened, and Tomioka’s blush seemed to only intensify. Deciding that ignoring the remark was the best option, you started talking about your last mission and the market you had found that charm in. A giddy feeling overwhelmed you as you watched Tomioka pocket the charm, his gaze looking warmer than usual. 

It was safe to say both you and Tomioka were quite close to each other now. You were someone he enjoyed spending time with and you loved being in his presence. The awkwardness that had initially been a part of your relationship fizzled, a warm atmosphere left in its wake. The two of you would spend time over tea, mostly at your estate, but you were proud to say you’ve spent time at his as well. Sometimes you found yourself going on walks on the trails that littered across your property, and you would point out animals you’d observed and little facts you found out about them over the years. Tomioka thought that if demons hadn’t screwed over the world, you’d have made a wonderful researcher.  

The feeling of something slipping into your pocket had put you on edge. Turning your head swiftly to the side, you stared at Tomioka with wide eyes. He stared at you back, eyes wide and cheeks a light pink. He had been caught. He didn’t know what he was expecting, you were a highly skilled hashira, trained to detect the slightest thing off. Slipping your hand into your pocket, you pulled out an omamori. You felt your face flush as it was not only your favorite color, but it was an anti-evil omamori. 

“Thank you, Tomioka-san,” You thanked with a bright smile. You were so busy trying to figure out how to attach the charm to the hilt of your sword, you almost missed Tomioka’s next words.

“Giyū,” He muttered, head turned away from you. You stared at him slightly in confusion until he clarified, “You can call me Giyū.”

“Thank you, Giyū-san,” You clarified, smiling so wide it felt like your cheeks hurt. “You can call me by my first name as well.” He nodded, still not facing your direction. Tugging gently at his haori, you led him to continue your walk along the trail, the day seeming a lot brighter than before. 

…

“Please Giyū-san,” You pleaded, putting on your best puppy dog eyes.

He tried his hardest to not meet your gaze, feeling his resolve slowly crumbling, “I…am busy that day.”

“Pleeeeease,” You drawled out, hands clasped as you jutted out your bottom lip. “I don’t want to be stuck as a third wheel.” He had accidently met your gaze, and he felt himself fold, how could you look so cute? 

“Fine.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You exclaimed, pulling him into a hug without a second thought, squeezing him tightly to try and express your gratitude. “I love Mitsuri-chan but Iguro-san scares me.” Giyū stood stiff, arms fell limply at his sides. Unsure what to do, he awkwardly patted your back before you pulled away. Your warmth that had seeped into him seemed to vanish and he immediately wished you held him for just a moment longer. 

The dinner had arrived too quickly for his liking. Although he found himself wanting to spend more time with you, and he didn’t mind Kanroji, Iguro had made his distaste of the water hashira clear multiple times. He hasn’t spent time with you in the presence of others, and he was scared that you’d finally come to your senses and sever your ties with him. 

He had arrived at least fifteen minutes early, which was exactly when you arrived as well. Giyū couldn’t help but stare at you in awe as he approached. You stood to the side of the restaurant that you were all to dine in. You wore a simple kimono, but he couldn’t help but find himself astounded. He thought you were ethereal in your uniform and haori, but seeing you in such casual wear had seemed to revise your beauty in another light. 

You, on the other hand, felt blood drain from your face. Giyū had been the next to arrive after you, and he was wearing his uniform. Your brain had become frenzied as you wondered if you had enough time to make it back to your estate and change your clothes. You didn’t want to stand out amongst your friends. 

“Wait, is everyone going to be in their uniform?” You blurted, feeling slightly dizzy at the thought. Giyū, still being stunlocked, seemed oblivious to your turmoil, shrugged. Your shoulders raised as Giyū stood next to you, waiting for the other two to join. Your brain continued to bug you for ten minutes, and only got worse upon notice of their outfits. Both in their uniforms. You felt your face flush in embarrassment, wanting to hide behind the water hashira as Mitsuri and Iguro spotted you both. 

“Hi!” Misturi waved enthusiastically before gasping your name. “Your kimono is so cute!” Unconsciously, you slightly hide yourself behind Giyū, not enjoying all the eyes on you. This is exactly why you didn’t like standing out in a crowd. 

“Thank you,” You muttered, hand grasping gently at Giyū’s haori. Normally, you wouldn’t have such a harsh reaction to being in such a position, but you could feel Iguro’s eyes watching your every move, judging your every decision. But you’d have to endure it, for Mitsuri’s sake. 

Giyū wasn’t faring much better. He hadn’t expected you to become so shy, using him as a shield. It made him feel a bit prideful and protective, you had chosen him even though you had been friends with Kanroji for longer. Though he also felt a bit embarrassed, unsure how to react to such a situation. He had never thought someone he found attractive would look at him, let alone find comfort in him in such a way. 

You all had entered the restaurant, Mitsuri trying not to squeal at the site before her. She had been trying to refrain from mentioning how your relationship with Giyū seemed to be some romantic plot from a novel she’s read. Every detail you shared with her had her blushing in excitement. She had recalled when you told her you didn’t expect to find love in this lifetime. As a demon slayer, you had little freetime, and the fact that you never knew if the day was going to be your last would loom over you until demons were eradicated. So having friends was tough, and a lover even tougher. She couldn’t be more overjoyed by the fact that you had managed to find someone even with the complications. Which led her to this master plan with Obanai, a secret double date (it would be a double date in her heart). A double date where only one person knew of it as such. 

Once you all got in, you found yourself feeling more comfortable. You found yourself in a comfortable conversation with Mitsuri, both your companions silent as they eyed the other up. It was a comical site for anyone who witnessed it. Mitsuri had beat us all in the amount she consumed, a bright smile as she asked for another. The atmosphere was warm in the small restaurant, the night sky shining through the windows. You slightly felt bad for Iguro and Giyū, as they both seemed out of their element, but overall it was a fun night. It almost felt like a date due to the fact Giyū insisted on walking you home. 

It didn’t take long after that night for you to realize your feelings. You were helping two lower ranked demon slayers defeat a demon. At the end of the battle they had checked in on the other, making sure they were both relatively okay before embracing. It had reminded you of how you treated Giyū, and suddenly it all came crashing down on you. You were in love with Giyū Tomioka. The two demon slayers had thanked you, as you weren’t there to help them initially. They were surprised at how kind you were towards them, remarking how they heard all the hashira’s were cold. You quickly waved them off with a slight laugh, explaining how most of you were just trying to get by like the rest of them. 

You had continued to stew on your feelings, unable to think of anything else. Your mind had been so dangerously drifting off, you found yourself injured. Not gravely, thankfully, but enough for you to end up in butterfly manor. 

“It’s rare to find you here,” Kochō commented as she cleaned your wound, causing you to wince. “Is something the matter? Have you finally realized the lack of heart Tomioka has?”

You frowned, unsure if unpacking your feelings to Kochō was the right play. It wasn’t due to Tomioka’s lack of heart, rather how much heart he has. Your eyes drifted to the sword leaned against the wall next to your current bed, the omamori charm dangling tauntingly. 

“No,” You confessed, hands clenching as she cleaned a particularly deep wound. “It’s actually quite the opposite.”

You took slight satisfaction in the surprise Kochō’s eyes held, but her empty smile didn’t waver, “Don’t tell me he’s managed to trick you somehow.”

“No,” You once again simply answered. “It’s all my own doing.” That was true, in a sense. Of course you couldn’t control your own feelings, but it was you who pushed past Giyū’s barriers and managed to sneak your way into his heart, just as he had snuck his way into yours. Though you weren’t sure if he viewed you in such a way, and you didn’t want to push him farther than he could handle. 

Without pause, Kochō took out a suture kit, threading the needle. Your eyes widened in horror. You’ve only needed stitches very few times, and the nausea you felt when a needle was presented never left. Mercifully, Kochō took out a balm and applied it to the skin around your wound. 

Waiting for a few moments to let the balm numb your skin, she spoke up, “Don’t get your hopes too high with him.” It was at that moment that you realized that Kochō was looking out for you…in a passive aggressive way. Although you didn’t exactly like the way she showed this care (by insulting Giyū), you still felt touched that she even cared in the first place. 

“Don’t worry,” You shrugged. “They’re never really high in the first place.” It was that moment she deemed worthy to pierce your skin. 

…

You didn’t need too many stitches thankfully, but even with the numbing the process was excruciating. You were relieved when the bandages were finally applied and Kochō bid you farewell. You were sore all over, waiting for the medicine Kochō made you take to finally kick in. Not only were you sore and tired, but you felt slightly ashamed. You allowed your emotions to overtake you and get injured in battle. You were a hashira, these simple things weren’t meant to let your guard down. 

You had been so absorbed in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed said water hashira entering your room. Kochō hadn’t been too surprised when she saw him stalking down the hall as she exited your room. With your previous conversation, and the bits Kanroji accidentally let slip, she had pieced together that Tomioka wasn’t all she thought he was. It was hard for her to believe that he would care about someone, but now that she witnessed the terror that shone in his blue eyes, he had even managed to surprise her. 

“They’re resting,” Kochō said, a fake smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Visiting hours aren’t open for them yet.”

Giyū didn’t even pause, continuing his trek to your room. It didn’t matter that his crow had told him you were only mildly injured, or the fact that Kochō left your room (a clear indicator that you were fine), he needed to see that you were okay with his own eyes. He had lost so much already, and he surrendered himself of such attachments, not only because he didn’t deserve it, but because he didn’t want to go through that again. You had managed to brighten his days again, he looked forward to waking up, wondering if he’d get to hear you laugh that day. All the good came crashing down the second he heard of your injured state.

You were both demon slayers, hashira at that, so you were bound to face injury. Yet he couldn’t help but blame himself. For what? Even he wasn’t sure, but he felt like it was due to the fact you were close to him. Karma for being the one to always survive. So when he quietly opened the sliding door, a breath of relief passed his lips as he saw you stare out the window. The sun hit your figure, causing a warm glow to light up your features. The usual smile that was on your face had turned into a frown, eyes distant. He wasn’t sure what to do. He had accomplished his mission, he’s seen you with his own eyes and you’re breathing perfectly fine, although the bandages that littered your face tugged at his heartstrings. 

“Oh, hello,” You spoke softly, snapping Giyū out of his thoughts. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, internally berating himself for asking such a stupid question. Of course you aren’t okay, you're sitting in a hospital bed at butterfly manor.

“I’m fine,” You smiled slightly. “Just some small injuries. Honestly all this pampering is a little too much if you ask me.” That was a slight lie on your part. It was clearly not just small injuries, or you wouldn’t have been taken to butterfly manor. You felt bad for the poor kakushi that had to tend to your injuries enough so you wouldn’t bleed out as they carried you all the way here. 

Giyū also seemed to sense your lie, his blue eyes unwavering from their intense stare. His eyes raked your body, trying to pinpoint all the injuries that littered your body. Fortunately for you, most of the injuries were hidden by your clothes and blanket. With a sigh, you patted the bed, gesturing for him to sit and join you. He did so hesitantly, ending up sitting as close to the edge as he could. You felt your mood lighten at the sight, the seriousness from before slowly dissipating. 

“You can sit closer silly,” You chuckled lightly. He scooted just slightly, and you smiled at him. “Okay so maybe I needed some stitches, but that was the worst of it. Really, I’m fine.”

Giyū’s shoulders slumped, finally he seemed to be able to calm down. You were fine, truly. You were still there, still sitting by him, still smiling at him, still laughing. Your breath hitched at how intense his gaze was. You felt your face flush as he stared at you with utter adoration. You felt your own gaze soften, probably matching his own. 

“It was my own fault,” You muttered, hoping to quell his worries further. “I was distracted, but that won’t happen again.” His eyebrows furrowed, the silent question in his eyes being loud enough for you to understand. Scratching your cheek, you looked away to try and hide your embarrassment. Should you just say it? Get it off your chest? Would he be weirded out? 

“I was thinking about you.”

Now you both were avoiding eye contact, flustered more than you’d like to admit. He hadn’t expected that. What exactly were you thinking? Have you been thinking about him often? It left him feeling warm at the thought. For some odd reason, it made him happy. 

The silence between you both grew, and you felt more anxious the longer it lasted. “Not…not  in a weird way,” You defended weakly, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. Glancing up at him your eyes widened in wonder as a tiny smile pulled on the edges of his lips, red dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. If you could capture this moment, you would in a heartbeat. Deciding that now was your chance, you ripped the bandaid off.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

This time Giyū stared at you in disbelief, and you wondered if you did the wrong thing. But he had smiled earlier! The first smile you had ever seen grace his beautiful features. Perhaps you came to the wrong conclusion. Both of you stared at the other, waiting for the other to make a move. Your heart beat faster and faster the longer he stayed frozen. His entire face and neck was engulfed in a violent shade of red, and you were scared you might’ve broken him. 

“You don’t have to love me back or anything,” The words quickly tumbled passed your lips. “And I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. That’s a weird thing to confess to your friend.”

That seemed to snap him back, he looked down at his lap, trying to regain composure. He found it harder and harder to remain stoic in your presence. The emotions he repressed would always flow to the forefront when you were around, and although it could be overwhelming at times, he still welcomed the feelings. Not sure how to convey his feelings properly (he surely didn’t trust his mouth to say the right thing), he scooted a little closer to you. You watched with bated breath, unsure where he stood on your feelings (he really didn’t make it easy to read him either).

“I reciprocate your feelings,” He replied, voice wavering just slightly. You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly. You weren’t sure what you expected, but such a formal response actually made you feel a bit better. Clearly this was new to both of you and you both weren’t sure how to go about this new territory. But that was fine, because you both could traverse it together.

…

Only a few days later, Mitsuri had managed to visit you. Giyū had refused to leave your side, assisting you with the simplest tasks. You felt bad for the girls who brought you your necessities as Giyū would watch their every move, ensuring you got all that you needed. When Mitsuri entered your room, she hadn’t expected to see the water hashira sitting next to you, let alone so close! Her green eyes took in the scenario, Giyū not meeting her gaze as he felt flustered that he was caught. You smiled brightly at the love hashira, welcoming her into the room.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” She apologized. 

“It’s okay,” You waved off her concern. “Giyū-kun has been keeping me company.”

Mitsuri couldn’t hold back her squeal, the two of you clearly have grown closer, dare she say you two have a more intimate relationship. Giyū looked even more flustered, head turned away from the both of you. 

“You have to tell me everything!”

[thewritingofamadwoman]

Billy’s Girl

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader!Reader (reader’s last name is Emmerson; no reason, just cuz)

Warning: Fluff, making out, Billy realizing he’s in love, and Jason Carver being the dick that he is.

Enjoy & let me know what you think! 💙

“Dude look at Emmerson, she looks fucking hot in that cheerleading outfit.”

“Nah man have you seen Chrissy? She looks amazing.”

“Yeah but have you seen that skirt on Emmerson? If she jumps a little higher, I’ll be able to..”

“Finish that fucking sentence Carver, and the only thing you’ll be able to do is drink your lunch through a fucking straw.”

Billy Hargrove turned around from his seat on the bleachers to glare at the boy seated directly behind him, who was objectifying his girlfriend. Now, dont get it twisted. No one loves cat calling more than Billy Hargrove. But now that he’s a taken man things have changed. He only had heart eyes for his girl. Little Ms Emmerson was one of the first people he met in this shitty, bumble fuck town when he first moved here with his fucked up family. She was beautiful, kind, and sweet, the love of his life. She was the light to Billy’s darkness. He promised her and himself that he would protect her at all costs. And he intended to keep that promise.

Jason Carver visibly gulped at Billy’s threat, knowing that the Hargrove boy wasn’t kidding. Billy’s glare deepened and it his nose flared, almost like a bull ready to charge.

“Sorry Hargrove, didn’t see you there. Just meant to say that your girl is gorgeous.” Jason said, attempting to calm the situation.

Calling her gorgeous? Strike two.

“Yeah I know she’s fucking gorgeous Carver, I’ve got eyes. Just keep your fucking eyes on your own girlfriend and shut your fucking mouth,” and with that, Billy turned back around, eyes back on his girl as she practiced with the rest of her team.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned and found Billy’s eyes immediately. She smiled wide and blew him a kiss before getting into the next routine formation. Billy pretended to catch the floating kiss and brought it to his heart. One of the girls around her whispered something and Billy watched as his girl smiled and blushed, the girls around her obviously teasing her about her their relationship. Her bright eyes found his again and Billy’s swore that in that moment, he’d never felt a love stronger than that. His heart tightened in his chest and he felt like he could explode with pride.

Practice ended an hour later and Billy found himself outside, leaning on his Camaro and patiently waiting on his girl. With anyone else, Billy would have driven off, angry at having looked like a fool for waiting an hour for someone. But for his girl? Billy would wait until the end of time. The gym doors opened and the sound of a gaggle of girls made its way to Billy’s ears. He looked up, arms crossed in his denim jacket as he waited to spot her, a smirk immediately forming on his lips when he did. She locked eyes with him and said goodbye to her friends, making her way towards him with a huge smile on her face.

“Hey handsome. Thank you for waiting for me,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his.

“Anything for you. Just don’t make it a habit. I barely wait for Maxine when she’s late,” he teased giving her a genuine smile, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

“That’s mean, you should wait for her more often. It’s going to get chilly soon,” she gently berated him, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Billy suppressed the shiver he felt coming on, and pulled her closer. She giggled in his arms, pressed so tightly against him, and loving every moment of it.

“I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to think about my little shit head sister right now. I want to think about you in that little uniform of yours,” he whispered against her lips, barely touching. She played along, whispering a reply against his lips as well.

“Oh? And what about my uniform?”

“Just that it’ll look way better on my bedroom floor,” he growled and closed the space between them, pressing his lips hungrily against hers. He swallowed her gasp and slipped his tongue into her mouth as he devoured her. One of his hands slipped down to her behind, using his large palm to give her an impromptu squeeze. She squealed into the kiss and Billy laughed against her lips. When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“Woah, where did that come from?” She asked breathlessly. Billy grinned and nuzzled his nose against her again.

“What, can’t a guy show his girl just how much he’s missed her?” She smiled back at him and pulled him into a sweet embrace.

What she didn’t see, however, was Jason Carver’s car behind her as she and Billy were making out.

What’s she also didn’t see, was that while Billy was hugging her, he was sporting the biggest shit eating grin; his arm around his girl’s waist and middle finger up at Jason as he drove by, a scowl on his face.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Together and More

Daddy!Benny Cross x Momma!Reader

Summary: Daddy!Benny moments from the birth of his baby to a parenting anxiety episode to a few years down the line with a little toddler.

Notes/Warnings: *Spoiler free* Unofficial Part 3 to Come Back Knockin’ and Come Back Together. I say ‘unofficial’ because it’s more like an epilogue-y time-jump thing and I might go back later and add more fics between the last part and this to bulk up the story (if people are interested. If not I’ll probably just move on to new Benny fics unrelated to this story). Fluffy family cuteness. Girl dad!Benny. Angsty-ish at brief points (if you squint, I suppose). Kissing. Mention of pregnancy. Typos.

Words: 3400

Benny Cross Masterlist

When the nurse escorts him into the delivery room, Benny freezes. Wide blue orbs flick between you and the bundle in your arms, and despite the distance, you can see his hard swallow. You can practically feel his heart thumping, reverberating off the walls, and when his lips part, you’re unsure if it’s from awe or anxiety or a mix of the both. 

When it comes to your husband’s emotions over the birth of his child, it has varied by the day. There’s been a steadiness and consistency to his excitement, thankfully, but he has vacillated between trusting in his ability to be a father and questioning what good he can bring to a kid’s life. This last week in particular was the most chaotic for his ups and downs knowing your due date was around the corner.

“Hi Daddy,” you say, hoping your smile will ease any brewing discomfort in his system. Benny doesn’t move, but his gaze has officially decided to glue to the baby. For the moment, you’ll take that as a win. Had you given birth eight months ago, you’re not sure he would have touched his child with a ten-foot pole, let alone looked at them. “Well, are you going to come see her or what?”

Benny snaps out of the shock gripping his body and he blinks. Swallows again. “It’s a girl?” he asks, a mild tremble in his voice.

With your nod, he takes a deep breath, and from the continuation of your encouraging smile, his limbs regain their functioning. It’s a snails-pace twenty steps, but eventually, he makes it to your side. 

There’s a twinge of guilt in your gut from feeling relieved while he’s tightly wound with tension, but you can’t help it. Benny is unpredictable until the last second. As much as he’s been reliable during your final months of pregnancy, nipping at your mind was the possibility of a second disappearance. But he didn’t run. He’s here. He came to you. He came for her. 

Benny’s knuckles whiten around the railing of your bed as you pull your daughter away from your chest and tilt her forward so he can take in her sleeping face. 

“Hold her,” you say, raising your arms toward him. Benny’s eyes widen. He backs up and you sigh, having expected that response. “Benny.”

“I’ll drop her.”

“Yea, because you’re so weak-muscled,” you tease with a playful roll of your eyes. You cradle your baby against your body so you have a free hand to reach out and grab him by the wrist, guiding him back to the edge of the bed. 

“Hold your arm out,” you instruct. A beat passes but he does as you say, allowing you to nestle her into the curl of his strong arm. “Cup her head with your other hand. Like that. Good. See? You’re perfect.”

He’s holding her like she’s some sort of rare, expensive bike part that took a year of his life to track down, but his shoulders slowly untighten as he starts to rock her back and forth like the natural you suspected he would be. When she opens her doe eyes to stare up at him, Benny’s brow pinches and tears start falling down your cheeks because his eyes have turned glassy and you’ve never before witnessed the sight. It’s unlikely anyone has.

“So?” you ask. “What do you think?”

Benny nods. “You did so good, baby,” he says, glancing up at you with a grin. He’s quick to return his gaze to his daughter. “You made us a beauty.”

You sniffle. “You contributed to that as well.”

“Yea, but she looks like you.”

It’s possible as she ages that she’ll develop a feature of yours here and there, but when you look at your daughter now, all you see is him. His nose, his eyes, his lips. She’s him, and you’d tell him so, but you’re not sure your words would break through the trance the baby has him in. 

—

When you wake, he’s not beside you. The sun is long from rising, and yet there’s no warmth, no lingering scent of his cologne, and when you flip over, the comforter remains smoothly spread out on his side. 

You kick the covering off your legs and stand, snatching your silk robe off the closet's doorknob to slip over its matching nightie. You know where he is. It’s where he’s spent many of his nights in the past three weeks. 

In the corner of the nursery, perched in the quilted chair, Benny is hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers woven and clenched as he stares at the crib where your daughter lies fast asleep under the low glow of her nightlight.

“Benny…” you start, making your way to him. His stare doesn’t break from the baby as he leans back against the cushion and spreads his legs so you can take your place on his lap. An arm slides across your lower back, a palm plants on your bare thigh, and you cuddle into his chest.

“You didn’t come to bed,” you say.

Benny hums in acknowledgment.

“You’ve got to be at the shop in four hours.” To that, he doesn’t even utter a sound. 

It’s not until you say, “Are you ready to tell me what's been going on in that head of yours?” that you get a response. 

He exhales heavily, then says, “What if I’m not good enough for her?” 

The question doesn’t surprise you. You assumed it was something along those lines, simply from observing his behaviors since you came home from the hospital. 

Benny’s smile rivals the sun whenever he takes his daughter in his arms, but the longer he looks at her, the more he thinks, and the more he thinks, the further that smile falls. He cradles his baby and his mind runs away with him. He peers too far into the future, digging up every possible problem and road bump ahead. Problems and road bumps—some of which you have no doubt are outlandish—that may never come to fruition. 

Your fingers weave into the blond tips at the nape of his neck and you delicately scrape the base of his skull with your nails. 

“That’s crazy. You’re amazing with her,” you tell him.

“She’s only three weeks old,” Benny argues. “There’s plenty of time to fuck it up.” 

“Ben–”

You’re cut off by the intensity with which his eyes drill into yours. A raw realness of concern swirls in blue irises. “What if she needs things that I can't afford to get her?”

Your brow raises. “Like what?”

“Anything,” he tells you. “What if she resents me for not havin’ better to offer? Her friends’ pops will have better jobs than me—more money in their pockets. We don’t even have a car to take her places; we’ve been borrowin’ Betty’s, for fuck’s sake. And this neighborhood? Baby, this street isn’t as safe as it used to be.”

You sigh. He’s right. You hate to admit it because you hoped he was worried over sillier matters, but every bit of what he said is fair. Your daughter will have friends whose fathers have established careers and the salaries to match. There will be lawyers and doctors and financiers living in areas that, while vastly nicer, still feed into the same schools your child will attend. You will need a car, ideally within the next few months because Benny can’t be riding to daycare with the baby clipped into the side satchel on the seat of his bike. And yes, the neighborhood has undeniably taken a turn in the past year. You should start planning your lives on a budget so you can get a small place outside the city. 

But the difference between you and Benny is that you know all of this is attainable. You know the two of you can do this. You know you’re both good enough and smart enough and resourceful enough to raise your baby. 

Benny removes his palm from your thigh and rubs his fingers across his forehead. You put your hands on his cheeks to turn his face back to yours. 

“Benny Cross, you are not going to fuck up. Our daughter is not going to resent you,” you say with absolute certainty, adding extra force to your tone. “She needs you and she needs me, and that's it. Everything else we will figure out in time.”

—

Three Years Later

You love to watch them. You love to watch how they exist together. You love how Benny tucks her into bed at night; how he wakes her extra early on Saturdays to make pancakes—one of the few meals he managed to master; how she stares up at him with a trembling bottom lip until he reluctantly agrees to play dollies with her; and how eager she is to take interest in anything and everything he has to show her. 

In the beginning, it wiggled your nerves to see her so curious about bikes—what mother wants to imagine her daughter on the back of a motorcycle—but she is her father’s daughter. Trying to shield her from her interests would only make her want to pursue them more, whether you agreed to it or not, so you took a step back and let it happen, knowing Benny would approach it appropriately. 

Now, it’s another one of those moments between them that you love to watch—this time watching without their knowledge as you peek through the sliver of space in the barely open door that connects the kitchen to the garage. 

The garage door is up to permit some natural lighting, and Benny, ratchet in hand, sits on a section of concrete that is shaded from the prying heat of Summer’s sun. He’s messing with the body of his bike as Lucy stands to his side; close, but not so close that she could be harmed should he accidentally lose his grip on a tool. 

“Ok,” he says, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He offers Lucy the ratchet and says, “Wrench please.”

Lucy carefully takes the tool by the handle—just as Benny taught her—before looking into the open box at her feet. Her head tilts as she examines its contents, and then she leans down, places the ratchet back where it belongs, and wraps her little fingers around the wrench. Pulling it out, she waves it back and forth with great enthusiasm before presenting it to her father. 

Benny smiles and she places the tool in his open palm. “Good job, nugget,” he praises as he softly pinches her round cheek. She giggles. 

Lucy takes in Benny’s every movement, observing like a tiny apprentice would a master. She’s attentive and nods along with everything he says even though she has no idea what a lick of it means. She does so until Benny finishes the job and closes up the toolbox. 

The second both of his hands are free, Lucy vaults herself into her father’s arms with such vigor that she nearly knocks him onto his back.

“Fixed it?” she asks, placing her hands on his shoulders and hoisting herself up so she’s at his eye level. 

“Fixed it,” Benny confirms with a nod, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

When you push the door open, their heads whip in your direction. Benny’s face splits to reveal a row of white teeth, and Lucy’s eyes—the same shade as Benny’s—light up, sparkling so stunningly that you almost don’t want to let the next words out of your mouth. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” you say, “but it’s nap time Lady Lu.”

Lucy gasps and looks at Benny to verify that he’s just as shocked. To her great enjoyment, he plays the part. 

“Momma’s got us on a schedule,” he tells her.

Her face scrunches in distaste. “Yucky!”

“Yucky?” Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead in mock offense. “Sounds like Daddy is teaching you to rebel against authority,” you say, crossing your arms as you give your husband a pointed look, “which I would really prefer he hold off on for a few years.”

Benny’s faux shock fades to a chuckle. “Alright,” he concedes, setting Lucy on her feet so he can stand. “Momma’s right, nugget.”

He winks at you and you grin as you reach toward him, grabbing his face to draw him in for a quick, thankful kiss. Just as he’s about to go in for a second peck, Lucy tugs on his hand to redirect his attention where she wants it: on her distress. 

“But–But you guys don’t have nap time!”

“Oh sure we do,” Benny says as he lifts her into his arms and settles her on his hip. “We nap when you nap.”

She glances at you, and when you nod she mutters an unconfident “Oh.” 

Not wanting to insult her feelings, you suck in your laugh. Your daughter despises the thought of missing out on any fun and has decided that it must be when she naps that her parents go wild. Little does she know that you take any opportunity to rest, and if Benny is home, so does he. 

It’s been a hardworking three years. Exhausting. Taxing to a degree that your bodies still haven’t fully recovered. Benny spent the majority of his waking hours at the shop while Kathy and Betty offered to watch Lucy so you could get a job as an office assistant; painfully dull work, but not an opportunity you took for granted considering you had no training in the area before you were hired. You both worked as often as you could for as many hours as your employers would allow, so much so that Benny would hold you through the tears you shed worrying if it was subconsciously affecting Lucy. You didn’t want her to know her parents for their absence, but at the end of the day, it was all for her, so you pressed on. 

You and Benny found peace and relaxation in the simple things—late-night rides; bonfires with the club; Saturday morning cartoons with Lu—but the rest of the time you were wearing yourselves out, and not always in the pleasurable way. 

But it was worth it. Every headache from lack of sleep, every aching joint from your constant desk sitting and Benny’s physical labor, every emotional outburst that the two of you would coax one another out of—worth it. 

Six months in, you got that car you needed. By a year, Benny had bought into the shop for fifty percent. And at the end of two years, you found a house just outside the city—a modest three-bedroom with a yard and a garage.

“Are you sleepy now?” Lucy asks, her voice already beginning to lose the oomph of its energy.

You softly snicker. Your daughter always hits her marks. Like clockwork, about two minutes post-nap-time announcement, regardless of whether or not she fights you on it, her eyelids struggle to open after each blink and her words leave her mouth at a more sluggish pace. 

“Very,” you nod again. “But we certainly won't nap if you won't. We wouldn’t want to miss out on any fun with you.” The tip of your index finger taps her tiny nose. 

“N-No, I'll do it,” she says, “if you guys are tired too.”

“We are, nugget,” Benny tells her. “So let's get you to bed, sound good?”

She’s fading fast but she uses some of that remaining energy to give a little grin before laying her head on her father’s shoulder and releasing a yawn. “Yea, Daddy.”

—

“Well, that took all of fifteen seconds,” you say as Benny gently closes Lucy’s bedroom door behind him. 

You start heading for your room with your husband trailing after you, but then there’s a tight grip on your waist and you’re spun to face in the opposite direction. Fumbling your steps, your chest bumps against Benny’s before he bends down, wraps a thick arm around your thighs, and tosses you over his shoulder. 

When you yelp, you’re punished with a swat on the ass. “Hush, baby. You wake Lu and we don’t get our nap, and after workin’ on the bike all mornin’, I could really use one.”

He carries you to your bedroom, sets you on the edge of the bed, and throws himself onto his back atop the mattress. Then, arms spread wide, smirk across his face, he says, “C’mere,” and you crawl into your usual space against his body. After a synced sigh, Benny crooks his knuckle under your chin and tips your head back so he can seal his lips to yours. 

You’ll never tire of this. Of him. The feel of him around you. The taste of him. The scent of cologne and motor oil. The way he nips at your bottom lip to pull a muffled squeak from your throat and how he smiles into the kiss at his achievement. It’s too damn good and nothing could match it. 

Knowing how your future would have evolved if Benny hadn’t returned after learning of your pregnancy is impossible. Maybe you would have found happiness if you had moved on and met another man, but you wholeheartedly believe that that man, whoever he might have been, wouldn’t have had the capacity to be what you need. When Benny stepped into your world, he took the mold—your ideal image of the love of your life—and stretched it out to fit him perfectly, and then he immediately broke it so no man could so much as attempt to take his place. And it worked. There was never going to be anyone else for you. At least, not anyone who could give you what you have now. 

As Benny’s fingertips graze over your cheek and bury into your hair, he shifts his weight, rolling you onto your back. Lips press harder into yours and then they disappear. Your eyes snap open, a pout rapidly forming that he quickly kisses away. 

“Wanna talk to you about somethin’,” Benny says lowly, whisper-like as his nose nudges yours. You do your best to straighten out your thoughts and pay attention, but it’s made difficult by the comforting weight of his body bleeding into yours and his thumb brushing back and forth along your cheekbone. “You know, Johnny and Betty said they’d watch Lu tonight if we want.”

With narrowing eyes, you reply “Yes,” drawing out the word, wondering where he’s going with this and why it has to interrupt the kissing.

“If you wanna take ‘em up on that, I was thinkin’ we could go for a ride, and then—” he shrugs the shoulder not supporting his weight above you, “I don’t know, maybe we come home and make another kid.”

Your eyes shift from mildly irritated slits to round saucers. “What?”

“Yea,” he says. “Thought it might be nice.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I mean, if you’re willin’ to birth another one, I’d be happy to put one in you.”

A laugh bubbles from your chest. “Would you now?”

Benny nods, planting a kiss on your mouth. That kiss moves to your cheek, then his lips ghost along your jawline before landing on the sensitive spot just under your ear. “You just gotta say yes, baby,” he says, warm breath heating your skin, “and nine months from tonight, we could have our second one.”

Your fingers glide through his hair, fisting the strands as you angle your head to give him better access to your neck. He licks and sucks until you moan, and then you say, “You’re that confident you can get me pregnant on the first shot?”

Benny pulls his head back to look at you. “Course I am. When I did it last time, I wasn’t even tryin’,” he says, cocky grin in place. But then his features soften. “So? What do you think?”

Your lips quirk to the side and you hum. “Alright, Benny Cross,” you say. “Let’s make another baby.”

---

A/N: I keep writing scenes with mothers eavesdropping on father/child bonding moments 🫣

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