#Fandom .. ♡

[losergirlsoap]

literally me

[angel-cryptid]

˚₊‧꒰ა♡໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[alexsays-no]

From the hatefuck series, it's one of my favorite wolfstars till the day. @kaaaaaaarf know the drill.

✨️Happy Birthday to Karfy ✨️

This part made me laugh out loud on the subway, I love it.

[naofaun]

gay people will see 2 men (or women) who hate each other and would rather tear each other apart than be nice and proceed to ship them more than anything

[biblically-accurate-dca]

painting test with a limited color palette

here's the sun equivalent!

[g1rld1ary]

the way i see you ; remus lupin x reader

➻ synopsis: you're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. they finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper

➻ word count: 4346

➻ content: swearing, allusions to sex, gryffindor reader but literally mentioned once, no pronouns but implied to be fem reader, kissing, no war AU!!

➻ the remus brainrot is strong rn

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were an artist, you had been the whole time the boys knew you. Even in first year as a shy eleven year old, you were always scribbling away in a little sketchbook that lived in the big pockets of your robes. The hobby only developed as you got older, expanding mediums and filling countless sketchbooks. When you weren’t studying (or even when you were supposed to be) it was almost a given that you’d be working on a piece somewhere, far from the prying eyes of others.

Your friends caught glances of your art sometimes, doodles on the corner of your essays or notes, maybe a stray page left out in your dorm which told them you were good, but you never ever willingly let them see it. They didn’t know why, truthfully, you didn’t know either, but it had always been that way and everyone had more or less accepted that.

“Have you ever drawn me?” Sirius asked one afternoon as you all sat out by the Black Lake, cocky grin on his face.

“’Course,” You answered simply, moving to turn back to your conversation with Remus.

“Wait, really?”

“Well you have to have drawn me then, right? Can’t just be Padfoot!” James cut in quickly, making you laugh, nodding.

“Before everyone starts asking, lets just establish that I’ve drawn all of you at some point, okay?” You thought that would calm them down, but it only riled them up further, much to your chagrin.

“And you haven’t shown us?” Marlene cried dramatically.

“I deserve to see you capture my beauty!” Sirius collapsed in an exaggerated performance and you couldn’t decide whether you were amused or embarrassed, giggling and hiding your face in Remus’ shoulder. He merely pat you on the shoulder, shooting you a fond gaze you couldn’t see. James caught it though, and smirked in a way that Remus knew he was about to be embarrassed.

“Have you drawn Moony?” He asked, and you both looked at him suddenly.

“Prongs, don’t,” Remus said sternly, then turning to you, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer… I know they must ruin the picture.” He gestured down to his scars. You just looked at him for a moment, utterly baffled.

“As if some silly scars would stop me from drawing you,” You said, a sweet smile on your lips, “You’re my biggest inspiration, Moony.” He blushed at that but the rest of your friends tactfully ignored it, though the boys shot him some shit-eating looks.

It was probably true that you drew Remus the most, but it was only because you spent the most time with him! Or, that’s what you told yourself anyway. Remus Lupin was your best friend in the world, and you loved him more than anything. Since you were always together and hanging out, clearly you’d draw him more, it was perfectly natural!

Your study sessions together in the library often devolved quickly, essays abandoned to the side, both of you falling into chatter as you studied and sketched him.

“What’re you drawing, dove?” He’d always ask, knowing you’d never tell. You’d simply press your lips into a cheeky smile, shaking your head resolutely.

“Uh-uh,” You’d say, “An artist never reveals her secrets.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s magicians, stupid,” He laughed, running a hand through his curls.

“Oh,” You frowned, “Well I’m that too, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” He snorted, “Your essays are more doodles than writing.”

“Hey, Slughorn gave me a whole extra mark for the portrait I drew last week, so none of that.”

Or you’d follow him out of the pub you were all in when Remus needed a smoke, sitting on the blacked out window ledge as he lit up. You thought he might have been the most beautiful person in the world when he smoked, the way the lighter brought out the gold flecks in his eyes and hair and the shadows of night emphasised his unreal bone structure. You’d probably drawn him in that exact scenario hundreds of times, but it wasn’t your fault he looked like a fallen angel. When he leaned over to give you a puff you took it gratefully, if only for the proximity. You weren’t much of a smoker, but for Remus you’d let your lungs rot.

It was moments like that where you’d wonder what it would be like to kiss him, lean past the cigarette and put your mouth on his. Sometimes you thought he wanted it too, the way he’d get slightly too close for best friends, his own hand being the one to stick the dart into your mouth, sometimes so close your lips brushed his fingers. Moments like that made you wonder if he loved you back. Then later, when everyone was drunker, you’d see him stick his tongue down some prettier girl’s throat and you’d remember your place as his best friend. If it stung you tried not to show it, letting some sleazy guy a few years older than you buy you drinks until Peter told you it was time to leave.

Still, you were mostly alright with just being friends with Remus. You still got most of the benefits; his conversation, his dry humour, the ability to look at his gorgeous face. Who needed everything else? Plus, you could draw him whenever you wanted, doing whatever you wanted — not in a weird way. Mostly. You still would never admit that you’d drawn him holding your hand, or kissing you, or other things you desired… The magic of art, right?

After years of bugging, you finally submitted to your friends constant nagging. The day that you officially graduated Hogwarts was an emotional one. Seven years of constant laughter and magic (both literal and the sentimental kind) were over, and the world seemed too large and intimidating compared to the familiar walls of your school. Yet there was no stopping it, and you were all Hogwarts graduates.

While all your parents cried and reminisced over coffee in the Great Hall, your friends had gone for one last deep conversation by the Black Lake. Discussions of the future were unavoidable, but were mostly positive. Talks of trips you’d take, apartments you’d live in and hell you’d raise. When you all quietened down slightly, struck by it being the last time you’d sit in front of the lake, you cleared your throat.

“Um, I have something for you guys, a graduation gift.” From your purse you pulled the envelopes, all filled with fancy cardstock from the art shop near your family home. You’d drawn a simple grey-lead portrait of each of your friends, framed with a little message of congratulations. You watched anxiously as they each opened the envelopes, nervous all the hype would make the art seem inconsequential. Your fear couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Sirius gasped dramatically as he saw what it was, but a genuine smile followed straight after. James burst straight into tears, hardly getting the picture all the way out. You could tell Lily was trying not to follow, but seeing her boyfriend cry set off the waterworks for her. Marlene and Mary were inspecting the others, pointing out the little details you’d put in, like Mary’s favourite daisy earrings or the slit Marlene had impulsively shaved into her eyebrow only a few weeks before. Peter was bright pink, flattered to the highest degree. Remus was hard to read, simply staring at you with the strangest look in his eye. You couldn’t ask him about it though, being ambushed with hugs from every direction.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this talent from us,” Peter said, the rest agreeing.

“Didn’t know we had our very own Da Vinci hiding behind a Gryffindor tie,” Marlene added, making you blush and grin.

You dreaded to imagine what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective, the eight of you teary, sweaty messes all piled on top of each other. Well, seven of you.

“Come on, Moony,” James called in a sing-song voice, “If you can’t submit to a hug at our graduation I am going to give you the biggest, slobberiest kiss and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You look like absolute wankers,” Was all he said, but joined the pile nonetheless, and you were extra glad he was mainly holding on to you. When you all finally pulled away it was minutes later, but the whole thing was strangely cathartic.

“We all have to promise that we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” Mary said, putting her pinky finger out. The rest of you agreed, sticking your pinkies in for a very convoluted eight way promise. With that sorted your friends started heading back up the hill to the school building, ready to leave Hogwarts forever and prepare for a long night of heavy drinking. Remus held you back. James sent you a suggestive glance when he noticed but left it that, drawing Lily in for a bittersweet kiss.

You turned to Remus, only for his eyes to be locked on the portrait. You’d spent so much time trying to get it perfect for him, practising the stupid knot he insisted on tying every day despite the rest of the school going with a less convoluted method of wearing their ties.

“Do you like it?” You asked, subconsciously twisting your ring around your pointer finger. Remus let out a half laugh.

“I love it, honest. It’s insane, really. That you can make this just like that. It’s just…” You searched his eyes for the rest of the sentence. “You make me look…” He didn’t finish but you knew immediately what he meant. Remus hated looking at himself, training his eyes down in the bathroom and opting to always be the photographer so he didn’t have to see himself in the final product. You knew of course it was because of his scars, but you genuinely couldn’t believe he thought they were ugly, much less made him ugly.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, just once,” You sighed, grabbing his free hand and interlocking your fingers, leading him back to where the others were waiting.

Four years out of Hogwarts and you’d all kept your promise. Of course you didn’t see each other quite as much as the boarding school schedule allowed, but the boys all had an apartment together which brought you together often enough — except James and Lily who were married and had moved down to Godric’s Hollow to raise baby Harry. That similarly brought you all to meet often, all determined to spoil Harry as his aunts and uncles.

You weren’t a full-time artist professionally, though you still did it just as much. You’d evolved to paints by then; living with a muggle because the rent was cheap had the added bonus of not having to worry about leaving your paintings on the easel since you didn’t really care what they thought about your art anyway.

Your friends were all huddled in the boys’ apartment living room, every seat taken as you all caught up. You were on the couch with Remus, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair as his head rested on your lap. You still weren’t dating, but Lily always said you might as well have been. You laughed her off every time — if he hadn’t said anything by now how could he feel the same way? You tried to pretend it didn’t still sting.

You’d tried dating, Remus too. He’d had countless partners since you’d finished school — even more one night stands. Nothing lasted more than a few months. You’d done slightly better, you made it about a year with some bloke that Remus hated before he revealed himself as a colossal dickhead, and you’d been mostly single since.

The group was trying to organise their next meeting.

“What about the movies next Friday? I wanna see that new muggle film, Knife Runner,” James suggested and you and Remus both snorted.

“Blade Runner, love,” Lily corrected with a giggle and James burst out laughing, making a quick joke at his own expense. You’d dug your planner out of your purse to check your availability and frowned, closing the book quickly.

“I can’t do next Friday, sorry, how about Saturday?”

“And what plans have you got on a Friday night, you minx?” Mary asked with wiggling eyebrows. Even Remus looked interested, which made your heart stutter.

“Just a work thing,” You answered quickly, not wanting to reveal the real reason.

“You lie like a rug!” Marlene yelled, sitting up from her spot on the floor. You winced, you shouldn’t have made an excuse that she could so easily disprove, being in the same department of the ministry. “What plans are you too embarrassed to tell us about, slag?” You laughed shortly, their assumptions were so completely off.

“It’s not what you think—”

“Not what you think my arse, who’s ‘Davis Show’ and why is he surrounded by hearts, you absolute tart!” Sirius cried, displaying the planner for everyone to see. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, wheezing as you looked at your friends’ faux-scandalised expressions.

“Look you twats, Davis Show isn’t a man. I’ve been invited to put my art in a show at the Davis Gallery down on Welking Road next week. I can assure you I’m not shagging a man named Davis.”

The whiplash was immediate, the gossip sniffing exchanged for celebrations, you couldn’t tell whose yelling was whose. Peter immediately ran to the kitchen for a bottle of champagne, passing glasses around the room. When the initial excitement wore down you were subjected to a million questions, and tried to answer each of them patiently.

“I can’t believe you weren’t gonna tell us,” Mary pouted and you sighed.

“You know how I get about my art,” You explained, “It’s not that I don’t love you all, obviously, it just makes me so nervous thinking about you guys all seeing my stuff.”

“You know we’re all coming now, right?” James said, wiping his glasses where the champagne bubbles had created smudges.

“You really don’t have to,” You put in quickly, “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Why won’t you let us appreciate you?” Marlene whined.

“It’s just, my art is like an extension of my soul. I don’t think I’d be able to recover if you didn’t think it was good.” Your friends grew rowdy at that, offended you’d even think they wouldn’t adore your art no matter what. You felt Remus put a hand on your thigh and gave him a weak smile, knowing he’d shut down the conversation if you wanted him to. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing though, especially when everyone was being so supportive. You figured everyone was so busy they’d forget it by the next week anyway.

Friday came, and you were a wreck of nerves. Although you’d sold pieces here and there throughout the years, this show would be the first time your art would be displayed as a collective, and you were terrified of rejection.

You’d figured your friends weren’t actually coming since none of them had really mentioned anything since. Apart from Lily, of course, who’d sent an owl to your desk that morning with a sweet good luck note and your favourite chocolate.

Even Remus hadn’t said anything when you went for coffee on your lunch break. That did puzzle you, you knew he would never go if he thought it would make you uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like him as your best friend to forget something so monumental in your life. You thought he was acting kind of weird though, more affectionate than he usually was. He kept looking at you longer than he should, and you wondered if you’d miscounted how far away the next full moon was. When you asked him about it he just brushed it off, looking down at his tea instead like he’d been caught.

“I love you,” He said and you laughed.

“I love you too, Lupin!” You cooed, patting him softly on the hand.

“You’re amazing, you know?” You arched a brow.

“What are you trying to make up for?” You asked suspiciously, giving him a once over to search for answers.

“Nothing, promise,” He smiled in a way that made your knees a little weak, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“You’re gonna give me an ego,” You grumbled, packing up your things to get back to work. As you parted ways he pressed a kiss down to your cheek and you stumbled. Remus was never this affectionate as a person — a pat on the back, a hug if you needed one, yes, but he was never one for casual platonic kisses. You figured it must have been his way to apologise for not coming to the art show? But he knew you didn’t mind, so what was he apologising for? You tried to shake it off and get back to work, but you couldn’t get your closeness out of your head.

Evening fell and you were setting up your stall before the other patrons came in. Rearranging the paintings until you were pretty much perfectly happy, you looked around, still not fully believing you were really here. People were filtering in, well dressed and chattering softly as young waiters handed out flutes of champagne. You straightened out your silky black skirt in an effort to look more presentable, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

At first things were slow, and you almost regretted not inviting your friends, if only so they could make your area look more interesting. And once you let that thought in, you kind of regretted not inviting them anyway. After all, they were the dearest people in your life and this was such a meaningful event to you.

You couldn’t think about that for long though since people had begun to filter over to you, making polite small talk as they admired your paintings. You tried to be energetic, smiling widely if you ever locked eyes with someone. However, deep down, you just wanted your friends.

A little old woman approached you for a while, wanting to know the meaning behind basically every painting and you told her happily, sharing the memories that inspired each work.

“Seems like you’ve got some true friends,” She said, “I hope you keep them close.” You agreed, thanking her profusely as she bought a landscape of the Whomping Willow.

It was growing closer and closer to closing, and honestly, it had been a wonderful night. Seeing the way that people reacted and interacted with your art was a magical experience, and changed the way you thought about it entirely. You decided that if you ever got the opportunity again, you’d want to share it with everyone else.

You were just moving to start packing up when you heard a myriad of gasps.

“What the fuck, dude?” The unmistakeable voice of Marlene McKinnon said from behind you. You whipped around to meet them, breaking into a cheek splitting smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, rushing over to scoop them all up into a hug.

“Fuck that, why didn’t you tell us that we’re your exhibition?” Sirius cried, running up to examine the paintings more clearly.

“And that they’re literally professional?” Peter added, eyes wide in wonder. You flushed red under their praise. If your friends thought your pencil portraits were good, they were nothing compared to your paintings.

Plus, every one of them was of your friends, or something sentimental to you all. Landscapes of Hogwarts, portraits of your friends, captured memories of long summer days, or life sketches from when you were all together. You watched them observe the paintings with nervous excitement, loving as they gave specific, personal compliments that only people who truly knew you could give.

“This our apartment,” Sirius said, pointing to one of your biggest pieces, “That’s our couch, the pillow Prongs has permanently ruined with butterbeer, that’s Moony!”

“There are a lot of paintings of Moony, aren’t there?” James whispered to you, wiggling his eyebrows. You flushed again. Sirius continued on, seeming (or pretending) not to have heard.

“We have to have this in the flat. Right boys?” Your eyes widened.

“Really?”

“For sure,” Peter said, “I’m buying this one too.” He gestured to one of him and James playing chess in the Gryffindor common room.

“And this is taking pride of place at home.” James pointed to a portrait of his and Lily’s wedding, and Lily similarly chose one of her and baby Harry. Marlene took one of her and Mary on the beach and Mary took one of the group at a house party. Half your paintings ended up being sold by the end of the night, and you couldn’t feel luckier. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Remus, who couldn’t keep his eyes off the paintings.

You shooed your friends out of the gallery once it really was closing time, and got to work packing away your things. You were deep in thought, reflecting on the wild day when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Remus, and he moved to help you put your things away, stacking the paintings between bubble wrap to protect them.

“These are really beautiful,” He said, “I mean, we knew you were talented but… these are seriously on another level.”

“Thanks, Remus.” You smiled, unable to make eye contact as you watched him handle all the paintings you’d done of him. Portraits like the others, but also studies of his hands — god you were obsessed with his hands — his profile, and one less than innocent picture of his back, scars resting over muscles. You probably shouldn’t have put that one out, but to be fair you didn’t know he’d see it.

There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Not uncomfortable, per se, but there were definitely things you both wanted to say that neither knew how to.

“Let me drive you home,” Remus settled on and you nodded, letting him help you load your work into the boot of his car. You sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on the dashboard to whatever radio station Remus had turned on. Remus stared straight ahead, knuckles pulled tight around the steering wheel.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. This whole show was incredible.” You went to thank him again but he kept talking. “I just wanted to know, um, there were a lot of paintings of me. I was just wondering why, why me?” You hesitated, unsure of what was going to come out of your mouth.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You decided on with a bit of a sigh.

“You’ve said that before, what does that mean?” Your breath hitched. You definitely didn’t intend for it all to come out tonight, but if you didn’t say it now you doubted you ever would.

“You are the most beautiful person I know, Remus. I mean, even aside from your personality — which we know I have to be at least somewhat a fan of after all these years — you’re totally fit. Your eyes, your hair, God, your fucking bone structure, you’re literally a walking renaissance painting. And I know you think your scars make you ugly, but you don’t know how turned on I get thinking about how they’d feel on my skin.” Shit, you probably should’ve stopped talking.

You hadn’t realised he’d parked while you were rambling, but now you were sitting outside his apartment and he was looking at you with eyes that looked more like the wolf than him.

“I turn you on?” He whispered, voice suddenly gravelly as he leaned closer in to you.

“More than anything,” You breathed, brain buffering at the feeling of his breath on your face. Suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and electric and not at all gentle. It felt like years of pent up frustration being let out all at once, and if he was anything like you, it probably was.

“Up,” He mumbled between kisses and you heard him undoing his seatbelt, hurrying to do the same. You barely disconnected to get out of the car, attaching yourself to his arm as he led the way up to the boys’ flat.

You made it up the three flights of stairs, not without Remus pushing you up against the stairwell wall to stick his tongue in your mouth, and stumbled straight into his bedroom, shedding layers as soon as the door was safely shut.

The next morning you awoke first, initially convinced you were dreaming when you saw him lying peacefully beside you. Eventually you rolled onto your side, ready to get out of bed for a glass of water when his nightstand caught your eye. There, in pride of place, was your graduation portrait of him, with a polaroid of the two of you stuck to the corner. Maybe he really had liked you as long as you’d liked him.

[ballnutty]

baby Kanera ?? baby Kanera….

I love them a lot !! Seeing them when I first watched TBB made me so !! HAPPY but ermmm did anyone else lowkey notice him being wayyyy lighter than he should’ve….maybe it’s just me….but I love his comic design wayyy more so I used that ^_^

[trickytrick]

yk that snack wars video that dropped a couple of hours ago

yeah

[glykera]

Open starter

Tw for ptsd stuff (probably gonna do better this time tha. The last time i had this warning idk)

For whatever reason, you decided to go visit the Hephaestus cabin today. Glykera was sitting stiff and motionless as one of the Hephaestus kids messed with the control panel in the back of her neck.

They swore not to mess with it unless it was really necessary. They knew she had her qualms against it. They knew she was scared of losing a part of herself again.

But she just sat obediently, with her fist clenched in her lap as they upgraded her language understanding so they could communicate better. She already spoke Greek, like the rest of the campers, but now her English and Spanish were being improved.

Tag list:

@the-gods-abandoned-us

@arisdaughter

@mache-of-greece

@demigod-jack-hearth

@kaiaalwayswins

@unhinged-waterlilly

@daredevil-shit

@kiaradaughterofselene

@southerndaughterofeos

@overlyprotectiveheadcounselor

@amaiahunterofartemis

@melissathetherapist

@selene-titaness-of-the-moon

@yourlocalfallenstar

@son-of-the-moonlight

@luci-likes-dinoss

@elixs-mythology-corner

@bast-the-best26

@if-chaos-was-a-boy

[stargirlstabber]

i know i am spamming but i warned you-oops

Gently warming up their Lovers hands during the winter with Theodore Nott BUT he is the one with the cold hands…- bye 🫡

<3

babes, again and again, spam me, i love it🫶🏻 lmao as someone who rarely freezes i can sooo relate to that, to everyone around you getting cold hands and you're there just like- hm. cool. very nice.

cold hands

featuring. theodore nott

snow was falling as the cold winter months reached the magic school. everyone was wrapped up in blankets, jackets, and scarves, not letting the cold air touch them. the slytherin house was no exception to that, y'all sitting in the common room, trying to warm up your bodies while spending some time together.

theo was sitting on the couch, your place was on his lap, sitting sideways and leaning into your boyfriend. across from you were mattheo and draco slouched into the soft cushions, mindlessly chatting with theo and blaise, who sat next to the two of you.

the fire crackled, pushing soothing warmth into the dark room although it didn't really do it's job right. you couldn't help but nothing theo rubbing his hands together, here and there blowing some hot air onto them.

so the good girlfriend you are, you wordlessly took his big hands as you spread your thighs a little, pushing his cold palms in between and closing your legs again. your boyfriend just smirked at you, leaning forward to press his soft lips against your shoulder.

his hands shall not get cold that evening...

[gaygirldoodles]

"Will and Nico are a golden retriever and black cat duo-"

NO

Nico is still a black cat, yes. Even if you look at actual black cats who tend to be chaotic balls of chaos. And having Nico be the Void Cat ™️ makes sense

But Will is not a golden retriever

Partially because he's not the sunshine character everyone makes him out to be

And he doesn't have that super hyper, super clingy personality of a golden retriever

Bro is a wet cat

NICO CANONICALLY SAID HE LOOKS LIKE A LANKY CAT IN THE BLOOD OF OLYMPUS

NICO AND WILL ARE THE BLACK CAT AND ORANGE CAT RELATIONSHIP

[angel-cryptid]

me when I remember my fictional crush has a canonical love interest:

[kokoch4n3l]

'•.¸♡BUY ME THE MOON࿐ྂ SANO "MIKEY" MANJIRO x f!READER

THREE — skeletons in the closet

chapter summary: like your father, manjiro becomes increasingly obsessed with keeping you hidden and begins tightening the already overwhelming security

chapter warnings: dark content 18+, inaccurate depiction of politics and political climate, loneliness, making out, kissing, rough sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, humiliation, spanking, fantasizing, creampie, no aftercare, cheating, infidelity, dom/sub undertones, slight choking, soft dom!mikey, guided masturbation, fingering(f), praise kink, (slight)voyeurism, aftercare

word count: 9848

masterlist | previous | chapter 4

You spend the month alone. You go to school, come home, eat, do your school work, sleep then do it all again. The routine was something you were used to but perhaps after that night with Manjiro, things kind of changed— unfortunately, it was for the worst. You've been feeling more lonely than usual. Manjiro doesn't come around but ever since then, you noticed the increase in guards outside the mansion in the woods and the hidden ones in the background(perhaps next time you see them, you should tell either your father or Manjiro that the hidden guards weren't so hidden).

The days blur together as you fall into the monotony of your routine. The loneliness you feel has deepened since that night with Manjiro, and his absence weighs heavily on you. You had hoped for more after the tenderness he showed, but instead, you're left with an emptiness that seems to grow with each passing day. You feel like a damn idiot.

Of course, you could call him. You could have but you have too much pride. He was the one who left you in your room after that whole fiasco in the back seat of his car(which you can't stop thinking about actually). After you fell asleep in the backseat with him, he probably carried you up to your room and left without leaving a note or even a text— so why should you call him first?

Days turn into weeks, and the ache of loneliness gnaws at you, a constant reminder of the void Manjiro's absence has left behind. You throw yourself into your schoolwork, trying to drown out the lingering thoughts of that night, but every quiet moment brings them rushing back. You can't shake the memory of his touch, the way he looked at you, the brief tenderness that seemed so out of character for him.

Your pride keeps you from reaching out. You tell yourself that if he wanted to see you, he would have found a way. Yet, every day without a word from him feels like a rejection, a confirmation that maybe you were just a fleeting distraction for him. After all, you were a part of an unnamed transaction between him and his father. Sano Manjiro spent a lot of money funding your father's election and having you out in the open now that your father is president is a risk. If people find out your father was a cheater and had a secret kid it wouldn't look good. 

The days continue to pass in a blur of sameness, each one bleeding into the next as you navigate the familiar corridors of your daily life. The loneliness gnaws at you, a persistent ache that refuses to be ignored. You miss the fleeting moments of connection you shared with Manjiro, the way he made you feel seen and cared for, even if only for a short time. But his absence speaks volumes, and the silence only amplifies your feelings of isolation.

Despite the guards and the watchful eyes that you now notice more keenly, your life remains eerily quiet. The increased security is a constant reminder of the world Manjiro operates in, a world you are only beginning to understand. It's as if his presence lingers in the shadows, a ghost that haunts your every step.

One evening, as you sit in your room, staring blankly at your homework, you find yourself wondering if you should swallow your pride and reach out to him. The thought is both tempting and infuriating. Why should you be the one to make the first move? He was the one who left you hanging, left you to fend for yourself in this lonely existence. Your phone sits on your desk, taunting you with its silence. You pick it up, scrolling through your contacts until you find his name. Your finger hovers over the call button, your heart pounding in your chest. But the fear of rejection, the fear of appearing desperate, holds you back. With a frustrated sigh, you toss the phone aside, resolving once again to bury your feelings and carry on.

That night, sleep eludes you. You toss and turn, your mind replaying every detail of that night with Manjiro. The feel of his hands, the sound of his voice, the intensity in his eyes—it all comes rushing back, refusing to let you rest.

A few more days pass after that and now it's 6 pm. You're sitting in the back seat of a Lexus with your usual driver in the front seat as he drives you back from university. Your tote back sits idle in the center seat and your phone is in your lap as you blast music from your headphones. Your fingers fiddle with the lace at the end of your skirt, head resting against the glass as the car speeds past trees and other things. 

As the car glides through the familiar streets, your thoughts drift back to Manjiro once again, his absence a constant ache in your heart. You find yourself staring out the window, lost in memories of that night, replaying every moment in your mind like a broken record. The music blaring in your headphones does little to drown out the noise of your thoughts, the lyrics blending together in a cacophony of sound. You feel restless, trapped in a cycle of longing and frustration that seems to have no end in sight.

The car turns into the clearing where your large mansion in the woods was located and the gate opens up. There are multiple cars in the front which means your father was here. You fiddle with the Viviene Westwood necklace Manjiro gifted you as your driver parks the car in front of the entrance and pause your music, removing your headphones . "looks like your father is here" Your driver says, looking at you through the rearview mirror

You don't say anything and just nod your head. You suddenly don't feel like seeing or talking to your dad even though you have been waiting for him to come home all month since he became president. Your driver opens the door for you, and you step out of the car, your movements slow unlike how you usually are when your father comes to visit. You practically drag yourself out of the car, tote bag in hand. Your heels click against the concrete as you make your way up the steps to the large front doors. Wearing heels to university would seem unnecessary and stupid to other people but you were a rich kid doing fashion design as a major. Everyone in your department dressed up all pretty even for early morning classes. It was fun. You liked dressing up. Where else are you going to wear all your expensive clothes? You were at home most of the time and wore pyjamas so you always went all out when you'd leave your mansion in the woods. "good afternoon, [y/n], how was school?" One of the maids asks as she opens the front door and takes your tote bag from your hands

"It was fine" You mutter as you step inside and immediately tug off your heels

Sure they were nice to wear but after wearing them for hours straight, your feet would start to hurt. You sigh in relief as your feet touch the cool marble floor, feeling a momentary sense of comfort. The familiar scent of the mansion fills your nostrils—lavender and sandalwood, with a hint of something floral. Despite the opulence surrounding you, the loneliness within feels overwhelming. The quiet hum of activity in the house, with maids bustling and guards stationed discreetly, only accentuates your solitude. "Your father is here with Ms. Kaya and a few other guests in his study" The maid informs

You just nod. You don't feel like going to see him right now. Not him or your stupid step-sister and certainly not whatever guests were here. You drag your feet up the grand staircase, the weight of your loneliness pressing down on you with each step. The mansion feels emptier than ever, despite the presence of staff and guards. You make your way to your room, seeking solace in the one place that feels somewhat like your own. Just as your hand touches the doorknob to your bedroom, a voice startles you "Hey, fairy princess"

You jump, turning around quickly and see the same pink-haired guy, Sanzu, from 1 month ago. He was the guy driving if you remember correctly. You would have been nice but right now you are annoyed and tired so you say "What are you doing in my house?"

Sanzu's grin widens at your reaction, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Relax, princess," he says, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just here on business."

You scowl, your patience wearing thin. "What kind of business?"

"Manjiro's kind," he replies cryptically, his grin never faltering.

At the mention of Manjiro's name, your heart skips a beat. You however don't want to make it seem to this clearly crazy motherfucker that you missed his boss. So, crossing your arms over your chest you ask "Why are you bothering me then?"

Sanzu simply shrugs and replies "'m bored and you look like fun"

You're about to say something but someone else shows up. "the idiot is right for once. You look do like fun"

This other guy, you remember from a month ago from the night of the election. He's got purple hair with a few black highlights, styled in a very similar way to Sanzu. This purple-haired guy had a hanafuda tattoo on the front of his throat. "oh fuck off Rindo" Sanzu says looking annoyed, rolling his sleeves up "I was here first"

You see a matching tattoo on Sanzu's right inner wrist. "shut up man, you know I hate the whole business bullshit" the purple-haired guy, Rindo, says to Sanzu

The exchange between the two men leaves you feeling more exhausted than before. You try to mask your irritation as you take a deep breath, your eyes narrowing slightly as you address both of them. "Well, whatever business you're here for, I'm not interested. I've had a long day, and I just want some peace and quiet."

Sanzu's grin only widens, clearly enjoying your frustration. "Oh, come on, princess. Don't be like that. We're just here to have a little fun."

You turn to enter your room and hope these idiots don't follow you inside. Unfortunately for you, they do. It was a little odd though. You've never had someone outright ignore your wishes. It was kind of... Exciting. "what are you, a fuckin' princess?" Rindo mutters as he looks around your room after closing the large door behind him

Your bedroom looked like something out of a princess movie. An unnecessarily large bed in an even more unnecessarily large room. Your sheets were cream-coloured and baby pink. Canopies were hung up around your bed and you had one too many pillows but you swear you needed all of them. You had fluffy white carpets, a vanity, a walk-in closet, your own attached bathroom and a balcony. "Yes" You answer Rindo's rhetorical question anyway

Sanzu chuckles as he watches you, clearly amused by your answer. He saunters over to your vanity, picking up one of your perfumes and inspecting it with a curious expression. "Nice place you got here, princess. Real fancy."

You frown, feeling your irritation grow. But you don't say anything and just sit on the edge of your bed, watching them look around your room in fascination. Rindo smirks, leaning against your dresser as he surveys the room. "You know, most people would kill for a setup like this," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But you? You look like you'd rather be anywhere else."

Sanzu, now fiddling with a decorative trinket on your vanity, chimes in. "Yeah, what's the matter, princess? All this luxury not enough to keep you entertained?"

You shoot them both a withering look. You don't wanna tell them that you're lonely. After all, it's a very embarrassing thing to admit. Instead, you say "I dunno... It's not that. Just never had anyone in my room before"

Your words hang in the air, creating a brief silence as both Sanzu and Rindo process what you just said. Rindo's smirk fades slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. Sanzu, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow, his amusement giving way to curiosity. "Never had anyone in your room before, huh?" Sanzu repeats, his tone losing some of its teasing edge. 

He sets the trinket back down on your vanity, his gaze shifting back to you. "That's kind of hard to believe, princess."

Rindo pushes himself off your dresser and walks closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Is that why you looked so miserable earlier? All this luxury and no one to share it with?"

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. You're not sure how to respond, but the truth is evident in your silence. They might be annoying, but they've hit a nerve you can't quite ignore. Sanzu takes a step closer, his playful demeanour giving way to something more sincere. "You know, if you're that lonely, you could always come hang out with us. We might not be your usual company, but we know how to have a good time."

Rindo nods in agreement, his earlier sarcasm replaced by a surprising note of camaraderie. "Yeah, who knows? You might even enjoy it."

You look between them, weighing their offer. It's tempting if only to break the monotony of your lonely existence. And as irritating as they might be, their presence is a welcome distraction from the endless silence of your mansion. "Alright," you say finally, your voice softer than before. "But if I get bored or annoyed, I'm kicking you both out."

Sanzu's grin returns in full force. "Deal, princess. We'll do our best to keep you entertained."

Rindo chuckles a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you have a night to remember."

The three of you settle into an uneasy truce, the tension in the room easing slightly. As Sanzu and Rindo continue to explore your room, their playful banter becomes less intrusive and more like a background hum, filling the empty spaces that once felt so suffocating. You find yourself laughing at their antics despite your initial irritation. Sanzu's mischievousness and Rindo's dry wit create a surprisingly dynamic duo. They might not be the company you expected, but they are, in their own way, a breath of fresh air.

You lose track of time. For the first time in weeks, you feel a sense of normalcy, of connection. It's not the same as what you felt with Manjiro, but it's something, and it's enough to lift your spirits, if only for a while. Eventually, the three of you end up sprawled out on your oversized bed, talking about everything and nothing. Sanzu tells outrageous stories that make you laugh until your sides hurt, and Rindo shares bits of his life that give you a glimpse into the world beyond your gilded cage.

As the night wears on, you feel a strange sense of contentment. You're not alone, not tonight. And for now, that's enough.

Manjiro sighs as the meeting with the president finally ends. He leaves the room without a word as usual. Sure Saimori Shinichi was president but at the end of the day, it was still Manjiro who had control ad not the stupid rich man. Manjiro had no reason to bow down to this man nor his shitty little daughter he was engaged to who is no doubt following him out of the room. His executives are still in the meeting room with Shinichi, Akashi Takeomi and Haitani Ran continuing to talk to Shinichi about whatever the fuck is going on lately or whatever old men talk about. Manjiro wasn't concerned with any of that. His mind was elsewhere, drifting to thoughts of you. He hadn't seen you in a month, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, he found himself constantly thinking about that night in the backseat of his car. The way you looked at him, the way you felt in his arms—it haunted him. He told himself it was for the best, that keeping his distance was the only way to keep his goals in sight. As he walks down the corridor, his fiancée, Kaya, quickens her pace to catch up with him. "Manjiro, wait," she calls her voice a mix of irritation and desperation. 

He stops but doesn't turn to face her, his eyes fixed on the large windows overlooking the mansion grounds. Kaya reaches his side, her expression a mix of frustration and longing. "Why do you always walk away from me? We need to talk."

He finally looks at her, his face impassive. "There's nothing to talk about, Kaya. This arrangement is political, nothing more."

She rolls her eyes at his cold tone but stands her ground. "You could at least try to pretend you're interested. My father expects us to present a united front when we announce our engagement to the public."

Manjiro's eyes narrow, and for a moment, a flicker of anger crosses his features. "Your father can expect whatever he wants. I didn't agree to this for him or for you. It's a business deal, and that's all it will ever be."

Kaya's eyes flash with frustration, but she takes a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain her composure. "You might see it that way, but the public will see us differently. We need to at least appear to care for each other, Manjiro."

Manjiro's eye twitches and he walks up to her till their faces are mere centimetres apart. "Do you need something from me right now, Kaya?" 

Kaya stares up at him, her eyes seeming darker than usual, probably with arousal. A tense silence hangs in the air between them as Kaya's breath quickens. She meets Manjiro's intense gaze, her expression wavering between frustration and something more heated. She places a hand on his chest, fingers trembling slightly as she speaks. "Maybe I do need something, Manjiro. Maybe I need you to show me that you're not just a cold, unfeeling machine."

Manjiro's eyes narrow further, his jaw clenching. The space between them seems to crackle with a mix of anger and unresolved tension. "Kaya," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "this isn't about feelings. This is about control, power, and maintaining appearances. Don't mistake it for anything else."

But Kaya, undeterred, presses closer, her hand sliding up to his neck. "Is that really all it is to you? Because I see something different in your eyes right now."

Manjiro's control slips for just a moment, and he grabs her wrist, holding it tightly. The look he gives her is a warning, but she doesn't back down. Instead, she tilts her head, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You think you're so untouchable, don't you, Manjiro?"

Before he can respond, Kaya rises onto her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. The kiss is fierce, almost combative as if she's trying to prove a point. For a split second, Manjiro hesitates, the unexpectedness of her boldness catching him off guard. But then, as if a switch flips, he responds with equal intensity, his grip on her wrist tightening as he pulls her closer. Their kiss deepens, fueled by a mix of anger and unspoken desire. It's a battle for dominance, neither willing to back down. Manjiro's other hand tangles in Kaya's hair, pulling her head back hard to break the kiss and look into her eyes. They're both breathing hard, their faces flushed. "This is what you wanted, huh?" Manjiro's voice is rough, laced with disdain "To push me until I reacted?"

Kaya's eyes blaze with defiance. "I wanted to see if there's something more behind that mask you wear. And I think there is."

Manjiro's grip loosens slightly, his thumb brushing against her pulse point. "You're playing a dangerous game, Kaya."

She laughs, the sound almost breathless. "Maybe. But so are you."

That's how they end up in one of the many empty rooms in the mansion. Manjiro has Kaya bent over the edge of a bed, her skirt hiked up and panties pushed aside. His pants are unzipped and pulled down just enough to pull out his cock and pound into her from behind. "fuck" he groans, digging his nails into her hips "If you wanted to be fucked like a whore should've just told me instead of being annoying"

Kaya tries to lift her face off the mattress but he just puts a hand on the back of her neck, forcing her right back down. He doesn't want to hear her moan or whimper. From the last time he did this to her, Manjiro noticed the noises she made just gave him a damn headache. He'd rather not hear her at all. His pelvis smacks against her ass each time he thrusts in, making small pat pat pat noises. Oh god did he hate this stupid bitch. He knows exactly what she's doing, using him to raise her social status, to mark her place at the top because daddy doesn't love her enough. Manjiro could care less though. She was a pawn to be thrown away later and considering the amount of men she had on the side, it wouldn't be hard getting rid of her either. "See isn't this better?" Manjiro grunts, smacking his palm hard against her ass a few times "You're much much more bearable when you're quiet"

Kaya's fingers curl into the sheets and her hips jolt every time his palm makes contact with her rear, turning the pale skin a bright pink colour. Manjiro's mind drifts off to you. He wouldn't fuck you like this. Not the same way as he fucks Kaya. 

Oh, definitely not. 

Sweet girls like you deserved to be fucked just as sweetly. 

Manjiro wouldn't just hike up your pretty skirts like he usually does with Kaya. No, he'd take his time to undress you. He'd pull the pretty ribbons out of your hair, and press kisses to your cheeks. He'd take his time stretching out your tight little hole. After all, you were too sweet for him to just shove his cock into your little cunt like he does with Kaya. You'd probably take him so well too. Something tells Manjiro you might just cry so he'd fuck you on your back. He'd maybe change positions later, have you bent over with a pillow under your tummy for better support, and he'd rub your back and press kisses along your spine. 

Oh, he'd be so fucking sweet to you.

Manjiro wouldn't fuck you the same way he fucks your step-sister.

"f-fuckk" Kaya moans, her voice muffled thanks to him pressing her face into the mattress

He feels Kaya's thighs twitch and she convulsed as she comes on his cock. Manjiro keeps going, pistoning his hips faster, rougher into her. He thinks of you, all pictures he had of the men watching you in the background take of you— all the cute little outfits you wear to university and you from a month ago in the backseat of his car, your pretty moans, helpless whimpers and your tight little cunt he needed all his willpower to stop him from pulling out his cock and just sliding in. Finally, at the memory of you moaning his name, Manjiro cums, painting Kaya's insides white. "haa~ fuck" He groans and pulls out, not even waiting for himself to soften

He goes to the attached bathroom without a word and freshens himself up a bit, washing his hands and his face and wiping himself off. Manjiro straightens himself out and leaves the bathroom, then the room, not even bothering to look at Kaya who's fixing her skirt.

He had more important things to do. 

"wait so... You're number 2..." You say pointing at Sanzu while you sit behind Rindo twisting the purple strands of his hair into small braid "that other guy with the scar on his face, Kakucho, is number 3 and the rest of you are just executives?"

Sanzu smirks and nods, clearly amused by your curiosity. "That's right, princess. I'm number two. Kakucho is number three And the rest of us are executives, each with our own areas of expertise." He leans back against the headboard of your bed, watching you with a mixture of amusement and interest. "It's a hierarchy, just like any other organization."

Rindo chuckles, tilting his head to give you better access as you continue braiding his hair. "And we all answer to Manjiro. He's the one who keeps everything running smoothly, even if he can be a bit... intense."

You glance between the two of them, processing this information. It's strange to think of Manjiro, the person who left you feeling so vulnerable and confused, as the leader of such a powerful organization. But it also makes a certain amount of sense, given the aura of authority he carries with him. "And what exactly do you all do? I mean, besides hanging out in my room and causing trouble?"

Sanzu's grin widens, and he exchanges a look with Rindo before replying. "We handle a variety of things. Security, operations, negotiations. Anything that needs doing to keep the organization running smoothly."

Rindo nods in agreement. "Yeah, and sometimes that means dealing with problems in... unconventional ways."

You pause in your braiding, your fingers stilling as you consider their words. It's clear that their world is vastly different from yours, filled with danger and intrigue. But despite the risks, there's a certain allure to it all, a sense of excitement that you can't quite ignore. You've always been stuck behind these large walls and even larger gates. You can't deny how exciting it is that you finally get people to talk to and it was even better that they seemed so cool. Before you can dwell too much on it, the door to your room opens, and you all turn to see Manjiro standing in the doorway. His presence instantly commands attention, and the room falls silent. "Sanzu, Rindo," he says, his tone even but authoritative, "leave us."

Sanzu and Rindo exchange a quick glance before standing and making their way to the door. As they pass Manjiro, Sanzu gives you a quick wink, while Rindo offers a small nod. Then, they disappear into the hallway, leaving you alone with Manjiro. He closes the door behind him and takes a few steps into the room, his gaze fixed on you. You frown crossing your arms over your chest. "Can I help you?" You ask him

Of course, you were still mad. Radio silence for an entire month. Sure you could have texted or called him first but you weren't the one that initiated the 'spicy' moment in the back seat a month ago on the night of your birthday. Besides, you don't chase. Your ego and pride wouldn't let you. You don't want Sano Manjiro to think you're desperate for him even though deep down you are. You've never wanted someone so bad in your life. He reminds you of this pretty limited-edition doll you wanted as a kid. Of course, your dad bought it for you and yes, you still had it. 

As a child, you wanted the moon more than you wanted dolls. Sano Manjiro reminds you of your limited edition dolls but he also reminds you of the moon. 

Unreachable. 

You can't have him unless he wants you to.

"what's with the long face, sweetheart?" Manjiro asks and sits in front of you "and what's with the tone, hm?"

You just frown. "There is no tone" You reply sharply and turn away from him

That obviously doesn't last long as suddenly a hand wraps around your throat and you're forced to face him again. He was being kind of rough but not in a way to purposely hurt you. Manjiro's hand around your neck wasn't even squeezing or pressing down. He was simply holding you by the neck and— blood rushes to your face, warming your cheeks. "hm? Must be hallucinating then 'cause I'm hearing a tone"

Your breath catches as Manjiro's hand gently but firmly holds your neck, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Despite his grip, you can feel there's no pressure, just his presence asserting itself. His eyes bore into yours with intensity, searching for something in your expression. You swallow hard, trying to maintain your composure even as your heart races. "Let go" you manage to say, your voice a whisper, a mixture of defiance and something else you can't quite name.

Manjiro's gaze doesn't waver. His thumb brushes lightly against your jawline, a gesture that's both possessive and oddly tender. "I don't think I will," he says softly, his tone low and intimate.

Your mind races, torn between anger at his audacity and the undeniable thrill of his proximity. You can feel his warmth seeping into you, eroding your resolve bit by bit and also unfortunately creating a small wet spot in your panties because you had no fucking idea you were into this shit. "This isn't funny" you retort, your voice trembling slightly despite your attempt to sound steady.

He leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Who said anything about joking?" His words send a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself leaning into him involuntarily, drawn to the magnetic pull he exudes.

"I'm serious," you manage to say, even as your hands betray you by gripping his wrist lightly, not to push him away but to feel the solidity of his touch.

Manjiro's lips curl into a half-smile, the corners of his mouth quirking up in amusement when he realizes you weren't pushing him away. "So am I," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "I haven't been avoiding you, sweet girl. Just been busy"

His admission hangs heavy in the air, filling the room with an unspoken tension. You search his eyes, seeing a raw honesty that takes you aback. "Then what do you want right now?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He releases your neck slowly, his hand trailing down your arm until he's holding your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I want you," he says simply, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want all of you."

Your heart pounds in your chest, his words echoing in your mind. You've wanted him too, despite your pride and the barriers you've tried to erect. But now, faced with his confession, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. Without another word, you lean in, closing the distance between you. His lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, a collision of pent-up desire and longing. The kiss is fierce and passionate, a tumultuous exchange of heat and need. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his touch is reverent yet possessive. For a moment, everything else fades away. There's only the sensation of his lips on yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the heat of his body pressed against yours. It's a whirlwind of emotions and sensations, overwhelming yet exhilarating. Oh you'd been thinking about the kiss you shared a month ago every night since then and this was probably even better than that. The number of times you've slipped your hand down your pyjamas at night thinking about Manjiro, the way he kissed you, touched you— oh man it almost wasn't fair to think about. When you finally break apart, breathless and dizzy with longing, Manjiro rests his forehead against yours. His eyes are dark with desire, his breathing ragged. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he admits, his voice husky with emotion.

You caress his cheek, your fingers trembling slightly. "Me too," you confess softly, unable to deny the depth of your feelings any longer.

He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let go. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs against your hair, his words a promise.

Manjiro pulls you even closer and now you're in his lap, making out all messy and eager. As you tangle your fingers in his white hair you hope you don't seem too desperate. It just feels so nice being with him, kissing him. Especially now that he wasn't treating you like a stain. Instead, Manjiro is sliding your white lace trim cardigan off your shoulders and throwing it somewhere. You're greedily about to slip your tongue into his mouth but he pulls away, making a whine slip from your lips at the loss of contact. You're pushed off his lap to fall against the pillows in a half-sitting half-laying position under him with your legs hooked over his thighs on either side of his hips. "You're quite greedy for someone that has everything" Manjiro says unbuttoning his suit jacket and throwing it in the same place he threw your cardigan

You're heart is beating too fast as you watch him undo the top few buttons of his black dress shirt and roll up the sleeves to his elbows. Sano Manjiro was unnecessarily hot but perhaps that's why you wanted him so bad. "you miss me that much, sweet girl?" He asks, a large calloused hand sliding down your left knee to your bare thigh and the other hand on your midriff keeping you down

Your breath hitches at Manjiro's touch, his hands igniting a fire under your skin. His words wash over you, their effect both thrilling and unsettling. There's no denying the intensity of your desire for him, even as you struggle to maintain your composure. "I..." you start to say, your voice barely a whisper, but he cuts you off with a finger against your lips.

"Shh," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. "No need to explain. Actions speak louder than words."

With that, he leans down and captures your lips in another searing kiss, his mouth hungry and demanding. Your hands roam his back, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. He breaks the kiss only to trail hot kisses along your jawline, down your neck, eliciting soft gasps from you. Your mind is a whirlwind of sensations, each touch from him sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His hands continue their exploration, sliding under the hem of your blouse, causing you to arch into his touch. He teases your skin with feather-light touches, his fingers tracing patterns that make you ache for more. "I missed you" you confess breathlessly, your voice filled with a mix of longing and urgency.

Manjiro's gaze darkens with desire as he looks at you, his fingers caressing your cheek tenderly. "I know," Manjiro murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as his fingers tug at the necklace he gifted you "How about you show me what you've been doing all this time, hm? What've you been doin' while thinkin' 'bout me"

"s-show you?" you repeat shakily

Your voice trembles with a mix of nerves and anticipation as Manjiro's gaze intensifies. He nods slowly, his fingers still gently tracing the contours of your cheek, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Yeah," he breathes, his voice a deep murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. "Show me."

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his stare on you as you try to gather your thoughts. His proximity, the heat of his body against yours, makes it difficult to think straight. But deep down, you know what he's asking for—what you've yearned for in his absence. "show me baby" Manjiro croons, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek "You touched yourself thinking of me didn't you?"

A shiver goes through you. You didn't want to admit to him that you did. You didn't want to admit you thought of the way his fingers caressed your most intimate parts and how he kissed you but he knew anyway. "show me how you did" He coaxes and before you know it, he hooks his thumb into your panties under your skirt and tugs them down your thighs

Your heart is beating fast. Way way too fast. "oh, would you look at these" Manjiro is pulling your white lacy panties off your ankles "These are pretty"

Your panties are white, with lace around the trim and a little white bow in the center. You couldn't even tell Manjiro you wore these for him because for one, you didn't know he'd be here and two, most of your panties are in the same style. They were cute and you liked wearing cute things. Thankfully, Manjiro doesn't ask if you wore them for him but instead "Think I'll keep these" and he stuffs them into his pocket

Your outfit itself was all lacy and cute. Cream-coloured skirt with little pink flowers, a pink ribbed cami top with a bow in the center and lace straps and trim. You were happy you hadn't dressed up in your typical depressed university student get-up like a month ago on your birthday. That had been a bit embarrassing to be seen by him in that outfit. However now that you think about it, this was only the 3rd time you met Manjiro and he's already got your panties off. But then again, the second time he had his hand shoved down your shorts. Maybe this was going too fast...

You liked him definitely but this was only the third time meeting him. Was it right to be doing this already? There are so many things to think about before doing this but the throb in the little space between your thighs stops any rational thought from truly making sense. So when Manjiro takes your hand and guides it between your thighs, you let him. "show me" he repeats as he flips your skirt up

Your movements are shaky and nervous as you scoop up your slick and spread it over your sensitive little bud. Your hips jolt at even the smallest touch and your eyes fall shut. This was embarrassing and the finger 8s you're drawing on your clit are shaky but when you open your eyes and see that Manjiro wasn't even looking at your cunt but rather your face with a softened gaze, a new rush of confidence goes through you. You let out a small shaky noise as your fingers hastily circle your nub, now a little too focused on just coming. "hey... a little slower" Manjiro whispers

Your fingers stop their pace and you look at him in confusion, eyes watery. Manjiro isn't smiling but his expression isn't cold. Rather it's soft. He looks endeared and the way he's looking at you causes this odd tugging feeling in your chest. "slower baby" Manjiro repeats and before you know it, his calloused fingers have replaced yours, lazily and slowly stroking your clit

A gasp leaves your lips and your other hand flies up to grasp at his bicep. It feels so much better than how you do it. So so good and you think you might as well just fall apart right then and there but Manjiro pulls his fingers away and guides your hand back down. "like that" he murmurs "'kay, pretty? You can do it like that for me right?"

The low tone of his voice makes your head feel fuzzy. You feel like you're drowning in his eyes and the dim lighting of your bedroom and the sun setting outside your window make this whole thing even better. It's almost romantic, even better than what you've fantasized about. 

Manjiro is even better than you've dreamed of. 

Even your dreams can't do the man above you any justice you think as you rub your clit in the same slow way he just did. His features are overall sharp but the slope of his nose is softer. His white hair is a bit messy now and his pink lips are a bit swollen. Everything about Manjiro is so pretty and it makes your head get even foggier. "there we go... doesn't it feel better when you go slower?" Manjiro asks, his thumb rubbing over the skin above your knee "one finger inside baby... take it slow"

He's being slow and coaxing and you feel yourself so easily complying, sliding your middle finger inside. A little whimper leaves your lips at the feeling. It doesn't feel as good as he did it. In fact, it hasn't been feeling as good since Manjiro touched you. Nothing else felt as good. Your fingers didn't feel as good as his did. "'Jiro..." You whimper

"Shh~" he hushes and kisses your cheek "add another"

You do just as he says, slowly thrusting two fingers in and out. It felt better but not as good as when he did it a month ago. "there we go, you're doing so well" Manjiro murmured and wrapped a hand around your throat again "Just wanna watch you make yourself feel good, baby"

He's once again not squeezing, just holding. It feels good. You like the feeling of his hands on you. "f-fuck~" Little whimpers and moans slip from your lips 

Your hips jolt and you grind your clit against the heel of your palm needily. You want more. You want him. You want it to be Manjiro's fingers inside you, not your own. "'Jiro" You whine

"Yeah baby?" he presses a kiss to your jaw "What does my sweet girl want?"

You shiver, whimpering out his name needily and your eyes turn glassy. "P-Please... want y-you to do it"

"hm? Want me to do it for you?" Manjiro presses a kiss to your forehead "Are your own fingers not enough for my sweet baby's little cunt?"

You grind your clit against your palm, so badly needing some kind of friction. "N-No it's not. they're not" You feel like you might cry

"awe my poor baby" he croons and kisses your cheek

Honestly speaking, you thought you'd need to beg or that he'd make you bed but perhaps Manjiro was feeling nice so he simply pulled your hand away from your needy cunt and replaced your fingers with his own. As soon as his thumb touches you sensitive nub your eyes roll back and lips part. Your hips jolt once his fingers start making scissoring movements and curling upwards. "there we go, good girl" Manjiro whispers and presses a kiss to your throat after you throw your head back "you just needed a little help didn't you?"

A string of whimpers leave your lips as his soft words of encouragement fill your ears and it has you falling apart in mere seconds. 

As the night draws on, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this unreachable moon might be within your grasp after all.

Kaya put a hand over her mouth as she shut the door of your bedroom she had opened a crack. She watched it all. Watched as Manjiro kissed and caressed you, watched as you came apart beneath him and he lifted you off your bed to carry you into your bathroom. She listened as he praised you and he encouraged you to keep going. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and something else—something more vulnerable—churning inside her. She had seen a side of Manjiro she had never witnessed before, a side that made her feel more isolated and unwanted than ever. Kaya knew this engagement was a business arrangement, but seeing him so tender and passionate with you stirred emotions she couldn't control.

Quietly, she turned away from your door and walked down the hallway, her mind racing. She needed to talk to her father, to tell him what she had seen. Perhaps there was still a way to salvage this, to make Manjiro see that she could be the one he desired.

Or wait. 

She stops in her tracks as a better idea crosses her mind. Kaya remembers her father was still yet to tell you about the engagement and she doubts Manjiro told you about it either. Perhaps... Perhaps she could use this to get back at you. Kaya smirked to herself as the plan began to take shape in her mind. She didn't need to run to her father just yet. Instead, she could leverage this secret engagement to her advantage, to twist the knife and regain some control over the situation. She continued down the hallway, her steps light with newfound resolve. There was more than one way to fight for what she wanted. "Dad" she bursts back into the meeting room as her father is still talking to Kokonoi Hajime, another Bonten executive, about their favourite poker games, the rest either smoking or in the midst of getting ready to leave

Her father sighs and Kaya's stomach twists uncomfortably at the irritated way her own father looks at her. "yes?"

Kaya clears her throat and eyed the annoying criminals in the room and they all roll their eyes and left, the pink-haired one with the scars on his mouth whose name she forgot, brushed a little too close past her. "anyways..." She mutters and sits next to her father "Have you told [y/n] about the engagement yet?"

"No, not yet. I was going to see her just now" Shinichi responds, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension

Kaya smiles and musters up the sweetest voice she possibly could. "Maybe for now don't tell her"

Shinichi raises an eyebrow, intrigued by his daughter's sudden interest in the matter especially something concerning you, his favourite. "And why shouldn't I?" he asks, his tone cautious.

Kaya leans in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Because I have a plan. I've seen how Sano looks at her. You told me Dad, that we needed something to keep Bonten in check since they've been getting too bold. I saw two of them laughing and playing with her earlier—"

"Kaya I do not want to put [y/n] in any kind of danger, especially with those snakes. It was bad enough they already knew about her when I've been trying my best to hide her. I don't want to make things worse" Shinichi says rubbing his forehead

Kaya leans back slightly, considering her father's words. She knew he was protective of you, and rightly so. Bonten's world was dangerous, filled with rivalries and power struggles that could easily ensnare an innocent like you. But Kaya was driven by her own desires, fueled by the need to regain control over her crumbling world and jealously that once again you were getting love. Her father loved you more than her and now her fiancé, who for one sure she didn't like at all, but it still annoyed the hell out of her because Manjiro always treated her so cold and rough. “I understand your concern, Dad, but hear me out. We can use this to our advantage without putting [Y/N] in harm's way.”

Shinichi's expression remains skeptical, but he motions for her to continue. Kaya takes a deep breath, knowing she has to tread carefully. "If we keep it a secret, we can observe their interactions and understand what their true intentions are. We can use her as a... a way to gauge their loyalty and plans. If Manjiro is distracted by [y/n], he might make mistakes. We can use their attachment to her to our advantage. Manipulate the situation and you can win back your power and truly be president and not just a man sitting in a chair while a criminal takes control from the shadows."

Shinichi leans back in his chair, considering her words carefully. He knows Kaya is not to be underestimated when she sets her mind to something, but the thought of involving you in the dangerous dynamics of Bonten worries him deeply. "Kaya, this is risky. [Y/N] is not just a pawn in some game. She's..."

"Exactly, Dad," Kaya interrupts softly, her voice pleading now. "She's a leverage we can use and so far, three of them seem to like her"

Shinichi sighs heavily, torn between his protective instincts for you and the strategic considerations for Bonten. He rubs his temples, his expression tight with concern. "Kaya, I understand your point, but I can't risk [Y/N]'s safety just to gain an advantage over Bonten."

Kaya's jaw tightens, frustration simmering beneath the surface. She leans closer to her father, her voice urgent. "But Dad, we need something to keep them in check. They're getting bolder, and if we don't do something soon, they could undermine everything you've built."

Shinichi's gaze flickers with indecision, his mind racing through the implications of Kaya's proposal. He knows the precarious position Bonten is in, with internal tensions and external threats looming. And yet, involving you, his precious little girl, in their dangerous games is something he's always strived to avoid. In fact, he tried avoiding even letting you out of the mansion. You were his little secret, his illegitimate daughter, someone that wasn't supposed to exist— yet his first daughter was encouraging him to use you. "You want [y/n] to be our eyes and ears?" Shinichi confirms Kaya's words which do make sense as it was something you would agree to doing

Kaya nods eagerly, her eyes locking onto her father's with determination. "Yes, Dad. With [Y/N]'s connection to Manjiro and those two others, we can gain valuable insight into their plans and intentions. We can use her presence as a leverage point, without putting her directly in harm's way."

Shinichi's brow furrows deeply as he weighs the risks and potential benefits of Kaya's proposal. He knows Rindo and Sanzu, mostly the latter, are influential within Bonten, and any leverage over them could indeed strengthen his position. Yet, the thought of involving you in the dangerous world of Bonten is a bitter pill to swallow. You were his secret, his beloved daughter, sheltered from the brutal realities of the world. "Kaya, you know how I feel about this," Shinichi begins slowly, his voice tinged with reluctance. "I've kept [Y/N] out of the public eye for a reason and not just because of the backlash I'd get. She's not like us, not like you and me. She's innocent, untouched by our world."

Kaya internally rolls her eyes. Oh, she hated how her father couldn't see how much of a little bitch you were. She hates that you, the spoiled sheltered little brat with nothing to offer, is his favourite and not her. "I know, Dad. But she's already involved. Manjiro and those two are interested in her. We can use that to our advantage. She's not just an innocent girl anymore; she's a potential asset."

Shinichi rubs his temples wearily, grappling with the weight of his decision. "And what if things go wrong? What if they find out we're using her?"

"We'll be careful," Kaya insists, her voice earnest. "We won't put her directly in danger. We'll monitor the situation closely, and if it gets too risky, we'll pull her out. But right now, we need a way to keep Bonten in check. This could be our best chance."

Shinichi stares at his daughter, torn between his paternal instincts and his responsibilities as the president of Japan. He knows the risks, but he also understands the necessity of maintaining control over his new position as president of the country. Finally, he sighs heavily and meets Kaya's gaze with resignation. "Alright," he concedes reluctantly. "But we do this carefully. [Y/N]'s safety is non-negotiable. She's to be kept out of direct harm's way at all costs."

Kaya nods emphatically, relief washing over her features. "Of course, Dad. I'll make sure of it."

Shinichi gives her a stern look, his voice firm. "And Kaya, remember, [Y/N] is not just a pawn to be played in our game. She's family."

Kaya's expression softens, and she nods solemnly. "I know, Dad. I won't forget."

With a heavy heart, Shinichi rises from his chair, his mind already racing with plans and strategies. "Let's proceed cautiously, then. We'll keep the engagement a secret for now and observe the situation. But the moment I sense any danger to [Y/N], we pull the plug."

Kaya nods again, determined to prove herself and regain control over her fate. "Understood, Dad."

So they leave the study and down the hall see the snake— Bonten, standing around, seemingly talking about something. "Sano-san" Shinichi calls "I need to talk to you about something"

Manjiro is fixing his collar, his gaze cold as he looks at the president and his fiancée. "yes?"

The rest go quiet as well, waiting for Shinichi to speak. Kaya doesn't understand how you managed to get three out eight of the top members of Bonten wrapped around your finger when they're all so damn scary. She hates your guts but she sure applauds you for it. "about my other daughter..." Shinichi starts

Manjiro's expression remains stoic, his demeanour unreadable as Shinichi mentions you. Kaya observes him closely, noting the controlled way he holds himself, the mask of indifference he wears so well. It's a stark contrast to the passionate intensity she witnessed earlier in your bedroom, a side of him she hadn't imagined existed. "What about her?" Manjiro asks curtly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Shinichi hesitates briefly, exchanging a glance with Kaya before continuing. "I was planning to inform her about the engagement soon, but I think we hold off on it for now."

Manjiro's gaze flickers, a hint of curiosity betraying his outwardly composed demeanour. "Is that so?" he replies, his voice neutral.

Kaya watches him closely, trying to gauge his reaction. She wonders if he suspects anything if he knows about the plan she and her father have discussed. But Manjiro's expression remains inscrutable, giving nothing away. Shinichi clears his throat, his tone measured as he continues, "sibling rivalry and all. You know how it is with girls" 

Kaya can't help but narrow her eyes a little at her father's excuse. "Kaya, the adults are talking, how about you go see what's for dinner" Shinichi says to her

She bites her tongue and pretends to leave but listens to the rest of the conversation behind a wall. "[y/n] and Kaya have always had fights growing up and telling [y/n] might cause even more problems..." Shinichi says

Manjiro's gaze shifts between Shinichi and Kaya, his expression guarded. He's accustomed to navigating the murky waters of alliances and rivalries within Bonten, but the mention of sibling dynamics brings a flicker of interest to his eyes. "I see," Manjiro responds evenly, though there's a subtle tension in his posture that Kaya notices. 

She knows she's testing the waters here, trying to see how much Manjiro knows or suspects. Despite her envy and frustration, she's also intrigued by the depth of his composure. Shinichi nods, his tone deliberate. "Yes, I'd prefer to handle the situation delicately. Their relationship is... complicated."

Kaya watches Manjiro closely, searching for any sign that he might see through their facade. She knows her father is trying to buy time, to use you as a pawn without you being aware. But with Manjiro, she senses there's more at play—his intelligence and perceptiveness could be a challenge to their plans. "I understand," Manjiro replies, his voice betraying no hint of his thoughts. "Family matters can be sensitive."

Shinichi nods in agreement, his gaze steady on Manjiro. "Indeed. I trust you understand the importance of discretion in this matter."

Manjiro inclines his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgement. "Of course."

Kaya smiles and pulls her bottom lips between her teeth. She couldn't wait. But Kaya also knows she needs to bide her time. She can't reveal her cards too soon, not when you and Manjiro are still in the honeymoon phase of your blossoming relationship. She'll wait, she'll watch, and when the moment is ripe, she'll strike.

In the meantime, she'll play the role of the supportive sister, the innocent bystander caught in the complexities of family dynamics. She'll observe your interactions with Manjiro, noting every smile, every touch, and every whispered promise. And with each passing day, her resolve strengthens, fueled by jealousy and ambition.

It would tear you apart and she knows it will.

[END SCENE]

"hey sweetheart" You hear your dad's voice echo in your room as you lie in bed now showered and changed in your pyjamas

You sit up in bed, your heart warming at the sound of your father's voice after such a long time apart. Despite the complications and secrets swirling around you, his presence brings a sense of comfort and familiarity. "Hi Dad!" you exclaim with a bright smile, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of the evening's events. 

You notice the tiredness in his eyes, the weight of responsibility that seems to have settled on his shoulders more heavily than usual. Being president must definitely be hard. Shinichi steps into your room, a small smile tugging at his lips as he takes in your appearance. "You look well," he remarks softly, his gaze filled with paternal affection "my little girl barely looks a day over 10, I can't belive you're 20 now"

You pout as he sits down in front of you. "hey! I do not look 10"

Shinichi chuckles warmly, reaching out to playfully ruffle your hair. "Alright, maybe not 10. But you'll always be my little girl, no matter how old you get," he says fondly, his tone tinged with both pride and a hint of melancholy.

You lean into his touch, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. Despite the complexities of your family's situation and the secrets that seem to hover just beneath the surface, moments like these with your father are precious to you. "I missed you, Dad," you admit softly, your voice carrying the weight of the time you spent apart.

His expression softens, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "I missed you too, sweetheart," Shinichi replies sincerely, his gaze searching yours. "I'm sorry for being so distant lately. Things have been... complicated."

You nod understandingly, knowing all too well the pressures and responsibilities that come with his position. "It's okay, Dad," you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand gently. "I know you're doing your best."

Shinichi smiles gratefully, his eyes reflecting his gratitude for your understanding. "Thank you, [Y/N]," he says softly. "I appreciate that more than you know."

Silence settles between you for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Finally, you decide to ask him "Why does Bonten know who I am?"

Shinichi sighs. It was time to let the skeletons out of the closet. 

notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the smut was okay

likes, asks, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

taglist: @m-ilkiee @reiners-milkbiddies @short-cxke @brisssaaa009 @tenjikusstuff4

@asirensrage @fushiquro @iwasei @kiwixpi @mysouleaten @luminouslaybyrinth @merrymerrykiss

@maraya-007 @dolfiins-art @yuyu12mm @kodzubaby @zantetsuwu @hayatisyourlife @bachiraslvr @bontensbabygirl

[aemnd]

just thinkin' about if you ever break up with modern!aemond targaryen, he would still continue to fuck you every night after he finished his classes at university, and then purposely get you pregnant because he's quite literally obsessed with you-- you're his to keep, only his, forever, and you'll always belong to him and him alone.

[southerndaughterofeos]

Guys what if it was my fault that empousa attacked me

@the-gods-abandoned-us @arisdaughter @mache-of-greece @kaiaalwayswins @unhinged-waterlilly @demigod-jack-hearth @yourlocalfallenstar @son-of-the-moonlight @luci-likes-dinoss @elixs-mythology-corner @bast-the-best26 @emdabitchass @if-chaos-was-a-boy @luck-is-crucial @dolorem-et-chaus

[g1rld1ary]

unlucky ; luke castellan x reader

➻ synopsis: when clarisse mixes up her days, her physio appointment clashes with the exam she was supposed to drive you to. lucky for you, she's got a friend who owes her a favour

➻ word count: 2570

➻ content: swearing, anxious!reader, fluff

➻ not sure how i feel about this but it is written which is more than I can say about all my other wips so...

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were going to ace your exam. There was no other option, you’d prepared for everything. Your flash cards were colour coded and worn thin from revision, your cheap printer had basically had a fit from how many practise questions you’d printed out, and your whiteboard was crammed with revision notes. There was no way you were going to do anything less than stellar, you’d planned out every last detail of the day.

“What do you mean your exam is today?” Clarisse asked you as you stood in front of her, fully dressed and bag all packed. You hadn’t planned on this.

“Clar, it’s Wednesday. My exam is on Wednesday. I need you to drive me or I won’t get there.”

“Oh, Gods. Dude, I totally mixed up the days, I can’t drive you, I’ve got that physio appointment I told you about, the one that has a five month waitlist. I’m so sorry,” Your roommate groaned and you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. The Ubers around were hopeless, cancelling at the last minute and never actually picking you up — and it wasn’t you, your rating was perfectly high, for the record.

“Fuck,” You both cursed as you tried to figure out a solution. You wanted to be angry at Clarisse, but you knew you couldn’t. It was an honest mistake on her part, and she had to go to her appointment if she wanted to have any shot of getting back into the boat next semester and retain her rowing scholarship. Mostly you were mad at yourself that you didn’t have any backup plans, especially since you always had at least two. You were about to give up and start running across the city to try and make it in time when Clarisse’s eyes lit up, snapping her fingers excitedly.

“I’ve got it: I have a friend who I know for a fact won’t be doing anything right now and owes me a favour. I can get him to drive you?” You hesitated. On the one hand, Clarisse’s friend was probably the only way you were going to get to your exam punctually, but on the other, being in a car with some stranger would drastically heighten your anxiety and throw off all of your routines. With one more moment of thought you swallowed your nerves and nodded yes. Clarisse got on her phone, hurriedly dialling her friend. You watched in uneasy anticipation as she argued with the boy, referencing a myriad of situations you knew nothing about, clearly emphasising how much he owed her. You bit back a smile at that, Clarisse would always keep tabs on who owed her.

Finally she nodded at you and you couldn’t contain your grin. As much as the thought of navigating city traffic with a strange boy made your stomach churn — and not in the good way — your anxiety was completely outweighed by your desperation to get to your exam.

Waiting for him to arrive was a whole different story. Clarisse’s appointment was earlier than yours and so you had to wait on your own, frantically going over your notes again as you sat on the stoop of your apartment building, converse grinding into the concrete anxiously. To his credit, it wasn’t long before he pulled up, pulling into the parking space in front of you far too fast for your liking.

You observed the car skeptically. You didn’t want to judge when he was doing you such a big favour, but it was an integral part of you. The car was old and a bit worn down, but not so much in a ‘the owner’s a slob’ kind of way, more that you could tell it was well loved and had had its share of adventures. You could say the same for the boy inside it. He was beautiful, but you could tell he wasn’t really the type to think about his appearance too much. His shirt was clearly well loved, worn slightly thin from use, and he had a thin scar running down his cheek from his eye. You tried to smile sociably as you climbed in the passenger seat.

“Hi,” You said, introducing yourself quietly as you gripped your notes tightly.

“I’m Luke,” He replied, shooting you a quick smile.

The two of you sat awkwardly for a while, conversation at an uneasy halt. Luke had asked you a few polite questions, but your growing anxiety over the exam made it hard for you to think. At least until Luke had the bright idea of bringing up your roommate.

“So, how do you know Clarisse?” He asked, and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips.

“She’s my best friend!” You grinned, “We were assigned to be roommates in freshman year and ended up getting along surprisingly well for, well, the type of people we are. When it was time to move out of the dorms and get an apartment together, it just seemed natural that we’d continue to live together. You must be part of her other friendship group, then?” Luke was glad you’d started to come out of your shell, the chatty version of you that Clarisse had inspired made the battle against traffic much more bearable.

“Yeah, we all met through the sports program. I was kind of a package deal with Chris, so when they got together she got the blessing of hanging out with me too,” He joked, “How come we’ve never met? I know Chris tells her to bring you all the time.” Your cheeks flushed at being caught out avoiding the group.

“I’m not really good at talking to people, I feel so awkward. Plus I need to study, I don’t have the fallback of sport that Clar does. The times that she’s hosted have been actual coincidences though! I was visiting family the last time you all came to the apartment — promise I’m not actively avoiding you all.” Luke smiled at your bashful expression, tapping along light-heartedly to whatever grunge rock he had playing.

You conversed more easily for a while, you wanted to learn more about him, and Luke was a good conversationalist. He talked about his course in a way which interested you like it never had before. You didn’t think it was possible for economics to sound so fun. Whilst it took your mind off the exam for a while, Luke returning the questions about your major made your anxiety return tenfold, foot beginning to tap incessantly.

“Hey, uh, do you mind if I go over some of my flashcards just before we get to campus?” Luke agreed of course, piping in with questions to make you expand on what you’d learnt. It was irritating, but only because you knew it was a brilliant way to revise.

You hadn’t expected Luke to be so helpful or so amiable. Although they’d been friends for a year or two, Clarisse rarely mentioned him. Usually the focus of her tales were Chris or Silena, Luke usually featured as the poor boy making a fool of himself through one stupid act or another. Maybe you really would start going out with them if all Clarisse’s friends were so nice.

The closer you got to your exam hall, the quicker you started speaking, words tumbling out so fast Luke could hardly understand them. You were whipping yourself up into a frenzy, and the boy next to you did not know what to do. None of his friends ever got this concerned about their academics, and he had little practice in comforting anxious girls.

When he pulled up to a parking space, you were borderline hyperventilating, shaking hands making the cue cards threaten to spill everywhere. Despite all this, you forced yourself to stop for a moment, making yourself connect your eyes with Luke’s.

“Thank you,” You said, voice surprisingly steady given the moments prior. Luke was admittedly slightly taken aback, but brushed it off much too casually. You weren’t so easily deterred.

“Seriously! You picked up a neurotic girl you don’t know with literally five minutes warning. You let me talk your ear off and basically saved my grade. You’ve got to at least let me, like, get you dinner sometime.” Luke looked like he was gonna argue with your praise but thought better of it, simply shrugging and revealing a smile that made your heart skip a beat. You hopped out of the car, pulling your arms around yourself tightly as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for the exam ahead. When you heard your name being called you turned back curiously, to be met with Luke sticking his head out of his passenger side window — how tall was this boy?

���Good luck!” He yelled, cheeky grin on his face. You gave an exaggerated huff, smile creeping onto your face despite your unease. You rolled your eyes, waving goodbye before rushing into the hall, running to catch up with one of the girls you knew from class. Luke smiled, laughing to himself as he pulled out of the park.

The exam was awful. Like, dogshit terrible. Hot flushes of embarrassment shot up from your toes, burning tears sitting in your lash line as you made inane complaints to some of your friends from your cohort, hoping desperately they couldn’t tell how devastated you were.

It all just felt like a waste. After all that revision, sleepless nights and study groups with people you didn’t even really like, the exam was still awful, and you were one more minor inconvenience from a full-blown meltdown. You said goodbye to your friends, and there came the inconvenience: with all the anticipation of getting to the exam, you’d forgotten to figure out how you were getting home.

God you wished you had your license. Or adequate public transport. Before you could talk yourself down from a frenzy you were crying, and sat yourself down on the steps outside the exam hall for a private moment.

The honking of a car made you look up, and the sight of Luke’s old Toyota had your tears turning to ones of relief. You sprung out of your seat, wiping your tears hurriedly as you practically skipped over to his car.

“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t help but laugh, embarrassed at your dramatics.

“Couldn’t let the academic weapon walk home across the city all alone could I?” You shook your head enthusiastically, smile erupting on your face as you hopped into the passenger seat.

You sat in somewhat awkward silence as Luke began the drive. Whilst you weren’t still actively crying, it was excessively obvious that you were distraught. Luke didn’t know what to do or how to comfort you, but he was never one to stop trying.

“You know what the best thing about Chris being pre-med is?” He said, and you looked up curiously at the random topic. You shrugged, using the mirror attached to the sun visor to wipe away some of your smudged mascara. “I now know for a fact that chocolate makes serotonin, and that makes you happy. So what d’you say we go get some ice cream?”

Luke took you to an adorable little ice cream parlour a few blocks from campus and bought you both cups of chocolate ice cream, calmly ignoring your protests. Sitting in a booth together it was remarkable how quickly your mood had shifted. Luke was shockingly charming, and seemingly knew exactly what to say to get you to open up, and before long you were chatting as if you’d been friends for years.

He told you dozens of stories of his and Clarisse’s friendship group, recounting all the wild nights and stupid adventures they’d had. You loved it, you’d heard most of them from your flatmate but an alternate perspective made you cackle all over again.

“How did you know when my exam finished? It was three hours long,” You said when there was a lull in conversation. Luke looked uncharacteristically bashful, suddenly avoiding eye contact with you and focusing intently on his ice cream.

“I’ve just been hanging on campus,” He confessed, “I took a lap at five past the hour to try and catch you.” You couldn’t help your grin.

“You are such a softie!” You squealed, shoving his shoulder lightly. He shook his head aggressively but you could have sworn that the Luke Castellan was blushing.

It wasn’t long before Luke was driving you home, the two of you scream singing to Kelly Clarkson (you’d taken over the aux, but Luke didn’t seem to mind that much). You felt a little betrayed that Clarisse had been friends with him for so long and yet you’d never crossed paths. You also wondered how you’d never noticed how hot the guy in all of her Instagram posts was, but that was neither here nor there.

As you pulled up in front of your apartment building you almost felt sad, but for a completely different reason than you were an hour before. All thoughts of your shit exam were gone, replaced by thoughts of Luke and the lightness in your chest he’d caused.

You sat in the car together, clearly hesitant to go. Finally, you knew you had to leave and reached for the door handle.

“Wait,” He said. You stopped. “Our group is going for dinner tomorrow night, uh, you should come. If you want.” Luke was looking anywhere but at you, and you felt your beam even if he couldn’t see it (he could, but for his sanity he was trying really hard to pretend he didn’t).

“Yeah,” You replied breathily, “Yeah, I’ll think about it.” You thanked him again for the lift and the ice cream before hopping up the steps into your apartment. Neither of you could control your giddy grins for an embarrassing amount of time.

When Clarisse got home that evening she was all apologies for her mix up, but when you of all people brushed off her disorganisation she figured something was up.

“So, how was Luke? Not too scary?” She asked as you both sat on the couch, Love Island rerun playing. You tried to answer noncommittally, eyes locked on the screen.

“He was nice,” You said, immediately forcing a laugh at whatever bullshit one of the boys in the villa had said. You could feel Clarisse eyeing you suspiciously, you would never be so vague — especially not when today was such a huge deal for you. Nevertheless she hummed in agreement, sparking a plan in her head.

“Hey, so the group are going to dinner tomorrow, you should come. It’ll be me, Chris, Silena, maybe a few others. Luke’ll be there too, I think.” She feigned innocence, counting them out on her fingers.

“Yeah, ok, I’ll be there,” You replied, trying to play it cool despite never having once agreed to go out with her friends. Clarisse’s raised eyebrow told you all you needed to know about your acting.