#I’ll be normal. ignore all of this. unless it comes up again. but for now ignore it it’s fine we’re ignoring it

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Just Kiss Her

James Potter x BSF!Reader

Summary: You find a few unsent letters with your name on them- literally.

WC: 2.1k

CW: use of {Y/N} - typo and nonsense it's 4am and I can't sleep.

The Gryffindor boys' dormitory was unusually lively for a day when James was absent. You sat cross-legged on James’s bed, surrounded by the mess that only four teenage boys could call normal. The faint scent of James’s shampoo lingered on his pillow behind you, a small comfort as the chatter of the room swirled around you.

Sirius groaned dramatically from his own bed, his leg propped up on a stack of pillows. He had injured it during their last Quidditch practice and was now milking the situation for all it was worth.

“Darling,” Sirius called, drawing out the word as he tilted his head toward you. “I demand attention. Do you know how utterly dull it is, lying here with nothing but Moony’s dull bookishness and Wormtail’s horrible color sense for company?”

“I’m literally right here, Pads,” Remus replied flatly, not looking up from his book.

“And you love me,” Sirius shot back without skipping a beat, grinning lazily.

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Peter, who stood in front of the mirror with a tie hanging awkwardly around his neck. “I think the green one is better,” you offered. “It brings out your eyes.”

Peter frowned, his hands fumbling with the knot. “But is green too Slytheriny?”

“Not unless you start hissing and cursing muggleborns,” you replied with a teasing smile. “Just pair it with a gray jumper. Neutralize it.”

Peter nodded, muttering something about giving it a try before swapping it for a blue tie. Meanwhile, Sirius groaned again, this time louder.

“I’m dying, and none of you care,” he complained, flopping back against his pillows like a tragic figure in a poorly acted play.

“You’re not dying,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “You’ve got a bruised leg.”

“Bruised? Bruised?” Sirius gasped as if you’d mortally wounded him. “That’s how they minimize war injuries, you know. Next you’ll say I’m malingering.”

“Which you are," Remus said, still not looking up from his book.

Sirius turned to you, ignoring Remus entirely. “Come on, love. Entertain me. Read me a story or sing me a song or- oh! Recite poetry! You’re good at that.”

“I’m not reciting poetry for you, Sirius.”

“Why not?” Sirius pouted. “You do it for James.”

“That’s because James actually asks nicely,” you quipped, smirking.

At that, Sirius clutched his chest as if you’d stabbed him, his grin betraying his dramatics. “Et tu, Brute? I thought you loved me.”

“Loved, past tense,” you teased. “You’re officially too high maintenance.”

“You wound me,” Sirius said, throwing an arm over his face. “Moony, tell her she’s being cruel.”

“Not getting involved,” Remus said quickly, still reading but now smiling faintly.

Sirius turned his face toward you again, his pout morphing into a cheeky grin. “Fine, if you won’t entertain me, at least come sit over here so I can lean on you while you’re ignoring me.”

You rolled your eyes but stood anyway, walking over to Sirius’s bed. “You’re unbearable.”

“I prefer entertaining,” he replied smugly as you perched beside him, letting him lean his head on your shoulder.

The room was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Remus flipping another page in his book and Peter muttering to himself as he fiddled with another tie. Sirius, still leaning on your shoulder, let out a long, exaggerated sigh, clearly waiting for you to indulge him.

“Alright,” you finally relented. “I’ll read something to you. Happy now?”

Sirius grinned triumphantly. “Ecstatic. Now, find something good. None of that boring rubbish you usually bring in here.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood and glanced around the room. “Fine, but I’m not wasting my time reading some textbook or Quidditch manual. Let’s see if James has something decent for once.”

Sirius perked up, watching you make your way over to James’s trunk. “Careful, darling, you’re stepping into dangerous territory. Prongs’s secrets and all that.”

“Oh, he won’t mind,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, if he didn’t want me snooping, he’d have locked it.”

Remus glanced up from his book. “I’m not sure that logic holds up, actually.”

You knelt beside the trunk, lifting the lid to find the usual James Potter mess: a tangled heap of robes, a few textbooks with worn edges, and a Gryffindor scarf stuffed haphazardly into the corner. But what caught your eye was a small, battered box tucked near the bottom, half-hidden beneath a crumpled cloak.

“What’s this?” you murmured, pulling it out and turning it over in your hands.

Sirius’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Oh, now that looks promising. Open it.”

Remus let out a quiet sigh. “I wouldn’t- ”

“Of course you would,” Sirius interrupted. “It’s Prongs. What’s his is practically hers anyway.”

Ignoring their back-and-forth, you pried open the lid. Inside was a disorganized stack of parchment, some neatly folded, others crumpled and torn. Some were even singed at the edges, as if they'd narrowly escaped being thrown into the fire. Every single one had your name scrawled across the top in James’s messy handwriting.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“What is it?” Peter asked, peeking over your shoulder.

“Letters,” you said softly. “They’re… they’re addressed to me.”

Sirius’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Oh, now this is good."

Remus closed his book, his brow furrowed. “Are you really going to read those? They’re personal.”

“They’re addressed to me," you replied, a mixture of curiosity and nerves stirring in your chest.

“You’re doing him a favor,” Sirius said breezily. “If he didn’t want you to read them, he’d have gotten rid of them properly.”

You hesitated for a moment before unfolding the first letter. The parchment was slightly wrinkled, and the ink looked rushed, as though James had written it in a moment of unfiltered emotion.

Dear {Y/N},

You probably think I’m an idiot. Honestly, you wouldn’t be wrong. I’ve tried to write this letter five times already, and I keep throwing them in the fire. But this one… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep it. Maybe one day I’ll find the courage to actually give it to you.

You laughed today. I can’t even remember what I said to make you laugh, but Merlin, it was the best sound I’ve ever heard. I keep playing it over in my head like an idiot, and it’s driving me mad.

I think I love you. No- scratch that. I *know* I love you. But I can’t tell you. What if you don’t feel the same? What if it ruins everything? Maybe it’s better this way. At least I can still be near you, even if it kills me to pretend.

Your voice caught, and you lowered the letter, your hands trembling slightly.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, looking genuinely impressed. “Prongs has it bad.”

Peter nodded mutely, wide-eyed.

“You really shouldn’t be reading those,” Remus muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

But you couldn’t stop. You reached for another letter, this one more crumpled, as though James had balled it up in frustration before deciding to keep it.

I tried to burn this one too, but I couldn’t. I can’t seem to get rid of the things I write to you, even if they’re pointless. You’ll never read them anyway. But writing them feels like the only way to stop my chest from caving in whenever I see you with someone else. Merlin, I’m pathetic.

I wish I could just tell you. But then what? You’d laugh, or worse, pity me. I couldn’t stand that. So, I’ll keep pretending. Keep being your best friend. Keep loving you quietly.

“Wow,” Peter said softly.

You sat back on your heels, clutching the letters tightly. All this time, James had been carrying these feelings- for you- and he’d never said a word.

“See?” Sirius said, looking smug. “Told you this was worth it.”

Remus shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”

You looked up, your heart pounding. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

Sirius leaned back against his pillows, crossing his arms behind his head. “Because he’s James bloody Potter. He’d face down a hundred Death Eaters without flinching, but one look at you and he’s a goner.”

The door to the dormitory burst open, and James Potter strolled in, looking thoroughly windswept from Quidditch practice. His broom was slung over his shoulder, and his Gryffindor scarf dangled loosely around his neck.

“Alright, lads, miss me?” he asked cheerfully, dropping his broom beside his bed. He glanced at Peter, who was still fiddling with his tie. “Wormy, mate, what’s that? A tie? You look like you’re about to slither off into the dungeons.”

Peter huffed, pulling at the tie. “It’s green with gray accents. She said it works.”

James’s laugh was loud and carefree, but then his gaze landed on you, sitting on the floor with a stack of letters clutched tightly in your hands. The open box on the floor beside you caught his eye, and his face immediately fell.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

You froze for a moment but quickly regained your composure, hugging the letters closer to your chest.

“Reading,” Sirius said from his bed, his tone positively delighted. “Turns out, Prongs, you’re a regular Shakespeare. Real heartfelt stuff.”

James paled as he took a step toward you, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and embarrassment. “Put those down. Now. They’re mine.”

You stood quickly, holding the letters tight to your chest as if they were a treasure. “No, they’re mine. They’ve got my name on them.”

“{Y/N},” James groaned, his face turning a deep shade of red. He lunged for the letters, but you stepped back just in time.

“I don’t think so,” you said, grinning as you unfolded another letter. You held it up dramatically, clearing your throat. “Let’s see what this one says- ”

“Don’t you dare!” James exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly.

“Dear {Y/N},” you read aloud, dodging James as he tried to grab the letters again. “You’re going to kill me one day, and I’ll probably thank you for it. Today, you- ”

James groaned loudly, lunging for you again. “I mean it! Give them back!”

But you were faster, darting around Sirius’s bed and laughing as James scrambled to catch you. “Today, you laughed at my joke in Transfiguration, and I swear I forgot how to breathe- oh, that’s good, James! Real poetic!”

Sirius howled with laughter from his bed, clapping his hands. “Oh, this is gold. Absolute gold.”

Peter, wide-eyed, muttered, “Should we stop them?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, waving a hand. “This is the most fun I’ve had all day.”

James was completely flustered now, his hair even messier than usual as he chased you around the room. “You’re impossible!” he said, his voice breathless.

“And you’re in love with me,” you teased, waving the letters in the air. Suddenly you paused, as if reality hit you. Your smile grew tenfold as you looked at the letters then to him with wide eyes. “Merlin, you're in love with me!”

That made him freeze for half a second, giving you just enough time to read aloud again. “You’ll never read this, but Merlin, I can’t stop thinking about you- ”

Before you could finish, James lunged and finally managed to catch you, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You squealed in surprise and delight as the two of you toppled backward into the open closet, the letters scattering around you.

James pinned you gently, his face mere inches from yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re an absolute menace,” he said, though his tone was more fond than frustrated.

“And you’re a hopeless romantic,” you shot back, grinning up at him.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his hazel eyes filled with something intense and unspoken. Then, before you could say another word, he kissed you- soft and sweet at first, but quickly turning urgent and consuming.

You forgot about the letters entirely as his hands framed your face, his lips moving against yours like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. Your laughter melted into the kiss, your hands clutching the front of his Quidditch jumper as if to anchor yourself.

From outside the closet, Sirius’s voice rang out. “Bloody hell, Prongs, save some for later!”

James pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his face flushed and his smile wide. “Remind me to hex Sirius later,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

“Deal,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Sirius groaned loudly. “Merlin, they’re hopeless. Wormtail, fetch me a bucket; I’m going to be sick.”

Remus sighed, his tone amused. “I think we’ve just lost James for the rest of the day.”

[milo-is-rambling]

Anyone else got that praise only feels good coming from people who don’t know you thing or is it just me?

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely!! if you're comfortable writing something like this, could I maybe request poly!marauders where reader who is normally very independent but gets submissive at times, but not in a sexual way? like she just gets overwhelmed and wants the boys to be in charge for a while, but maybe the relationship is still new and she feels too needy and can't bring herself to tell them and eventually they realize?

again, no worries if you're not comfortable writing this, just thought I'd ask <3

Thank you for requesting gorgeous !

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“This is deeply, atrociously unjust,” Sirius says as James sits down in front of you, him on the floor and you on the couch. He’s wet and fresh-smelling from the shower. “You never let me do your hair.” 

“Because you always act like you’re trying to tear it out as some sort of twisted revenge plot,” says James, passing you a brush and the curl cream you and Sirius had found for him. Normally, you adore this routine, the chance to run your fingers through James’ hair and the way his eyes close blissfully while you do it. You love to pamper him. But tonight you’re not really in the mood. You do it because he expects you to, coating his curls in product with your usual tenderness but wishing you were on the receiving end of it instead. “She’s got the touch of an angel.” 

Sirius crosses his arms. He’s leaned against the side of the couch, leering over you like a vulture. Remus is reading in the armchair, and though he’s pretending to ignore all of you, the corner of his mouth tilts up. 

“Beauty is pain,” Sirius grouses.

“We should start a hair train,” James decides. “She’ll do mine, you can do hers, Remus will do yours, and I’ll do his.” 

Sirius seems to be considering this. You lean down towards James’ ear. “You’re throwing me to the wolves,” you stage-whisper. 

“It’s you or me, sweetheart.” 

Actually, the idea of Sirius playing with your hair—even at the risk of losing a good amount of it—doesn’t sound so awful. 

“I can get in the shower right now,” you offer, only half joking. 

Sirius lets a grin slip loose, sitting next to you to plant a smacker on your cheek. “Thank you, darling, but that’s alright. You shouldn’t have to atone for his mistakes.” 

You return his smile, doing your best to bury your disappointment.

“I didn’t consent to the hair train either,” Remus says without looking up from his book. “There’s a reason James doesn’t do his own hair.” 

“Oi,” James objects. “I’ve got admirers fighting over the opportunity to do my hair, why would I do it myself?” 

Remus marks his page, flipping the book closed. “What are we having for dinner?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, but I’m famished.” James doesn’t miss a beat, latching onto the new topic eagerly. “We could order takeaway?” 

“Or just cut out the middleman and go out,” Sirius says. “Unless someone feels like cooking? Which I don’t.” 

“We know,” Remus teases. “I don’t either, not tonight.” 

“I could if I needed to,” James says, “but I’m alright with whatever gets food in me the fastest.” 

They all look to you. “I don’t much feel like cooking,” you add your piece. Your voice comes out quieter than you’d intended.

“Alright,” Remus says. “Then let’s not cook tonight. What do you want to do, love? Go out or stay in?” 

You comb the brush slowly through James’ hair, twisting to define his curls. “I don’t know,” you say. 

Sirius turns to you, frowning. “Come on, baby.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What do you feel like having?” 

“I don’t know.” You try not to sigh. “Um, can you pick?”

You don’t look up from the top of James’ head, but you can feel them exchanging looks. They’ve all been a little extra gentle with you lately. They know you’re dealing with a lot. Anytime you try to tally it all up and make sense of it in your head, you start feeling like you could cry. Your exhaustion has sunk so deeply within you that it’s seeped into your bloodstream. You think by now there’s got to be traces of it in the marrow of your bones. 

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. “Look at me.” 

You do, pausing with the brush held aloft over James’ head. He’s got his eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to figure you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. It’s not your boyfriends’ faults that you’re feeling overwhelmed; you don’t mean to drag them down with you. 

“What for, sweetness?” He sets a hand on your thigh, rings biting into your skin as he gives the flesh a loving squeeze. “Just tell us what you need.” 

You try to give him a smile. You really do love him. “I want…I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired. I want to not think for a little while.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows come up a bit in the middle, and James turns around from below you. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” His tone is as gooey and sweet as raw honey. “Do you just want us to take care of you, angel?” He sets his hands on your knees, pushing himself up to kiss your chin. “You should’ve said something.” 

“We can stay in,” Remus suggests whilst James worms his way underneath you, getting you in his lap. “Order takeaway from that Thai place you like.” 

“That sounds nice,” you say meekly, face growing warm. James presses rapid-fire kisses to your cheek. One-two-three. 

“You wanna have a shower, baby?” Sirius asks you. He looks heart-wrenchingly concerned. It’s not like you to want to give away control like this. “I could do your hair when you get out.” 

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “He steals our hair to make tiny dolls of us, I’m sure of it.” 

Sirius sends him a withering look. “I’ll be gentle.” 

“I’d like that,” you tell Sirius, and he softens. 

“Yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face and presses his hand to your cheek. Squishy fond. “Okay, baby, we’ll pamper you to hell and back.” 

“I’m going to find the menu for takeaway,” Remus says, prying himself up from his chair. 

“James,” Sirius says, not particularly kindly, “you will have to let her go for her to shower.” 

“Never. Not on my life. Not at gunpoint.” You shrink as James makes his face at home in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nose nudging at a ticklish spot. “She’s my darling sweetheart angel.” 

“She’s our darling sweetheart angel,” Remus corrects him from the kitchen. You think your face could melt titanium. 

“James, please,” you complain. “I’m never telling you all anything again.”

“Careful.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at you, mock stern. “That sounded dangerously close to a thought, and those won’t be allowed until at least tomorrow morning.”

[allur1ngs]

✮ a whisper of our love ✮

TW: don’t let the cute visuals deceive you this is pure ANGST to fluff, delulu bada strikes again, bada doesn’t know how to process her emotions but it’s okay she’s trying, reader is a chronic sweetie pie no one hate on her or i’ll find you, character death, guns, blood, descriptions of injury, grieving, emotional trauma, survivor’s guilt!! flashbacks in this fic are indicated by italicized text, sweet smut (dom & top!bada sub & bottom!reader, fingering–r!receiving, oral–bada!receiving, finger sucking–bada!receiving, scissoring/tribbing whatever you wanna call it–both!receiving obvs, tit sucking–r!receiving, a bit of spit… sorry, lots of praise & fluffy love–r!receiving) aftercare happens out of the fic

SUMMARY: bada confronts years of profound emotional turmoil to embrace the depths of her affection for you.

WC: 16.1k…no comment

A/N: find more information about this au on my masterlist! ...here it is!! the long-awaited official first kiss + first i love you, as well as first time together as a couple!! ngl i’m really proud of this one. many (not so obvious too) plot points come together this time so keep an eye out for them!! again–please ignore any spelling errors this is so long–& this one might be a bit heavy around the middle part so please take care of yourself!! but enjoy!!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

Several months after the Seong incident, it finally felt like things were going back to normal. You got back into the swing of things, embracing your time in the Lee mansion, and rarely leaving unless you got antsy. You became much more vigilant while out, carefully observing your surroundings and never straying too far away from Hyo’s side. Malls, grocery stores, and casual strolls became few and far between, but at your behest. You gained a sense of normalcy staring at the same large walls and divots in your home—happy with your life as it is, everything felt complete.

Bada, on the other hand, who had become increasingly protective to the point she had been somewhat clingy, was finally starting to ease back into her busy work schedule, her visitations becoming rarer. Although you felt a bit melancholic at the fact that she was pulling away from you, you accepted that work would always be a large part of Bada’s life – whether either liked it or not. 

Thoughts such as these swirl in your mind as you get ready for a new day, rays of warm beige sunlight peaking through your mesh curtains and swirling in the air of your room. Every part of your body feels relaxed, muscles moving fluidly as you dress yourself up. Today, you’d invited your friends over – with Bada’s permission, of course – for a small get-together. A real one.

They’d been nagging you for days on end about seeing you again, and after finally breaking under the pressure, you invited them to come over and have breakfast with you, then take a nice dip in the infinity pool. You could practically hear the squeals of excitement through the all-caps text messages they’d responded with, all agreeing to your proposal and before conversing about what bathing suit they’d bring.

Now, on the day of their arrival, you get ready slightly earlier than you normally do, preparing accordingly for your friends.

“Good morning, Hyo.” You greet your bodyguard with a smile as you step out of your bedroom.

“Good morning, kid.” She nods. “Up and about already?”

“Yup,” you begin walking down the hallway, Hyo following you without a second thought. “The girls are coming over today for breakfast.”

“Right,” Hyo acknowledges. “You bought all those groceries yesterday for them.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I need to get started on the cooking so that the food is ready for them when they arrive.”

“What a great hostess you are.” Hyo lightly teases you.

“Please, it’s just common courtesy.” You have a hand in dismissal. “Besides, knowing Jae, she’ll be crying about how she’s ‘so hungry’ the second she gets here.”

“Jae…” Hyo trails off, her mind wandering back to the day you’d been kidnapped, and how the woman had aided in your rescue. “I can tell you two care about each other a lot.”

“We do.” You turn into the kitchen, greeting the staff that’s already busy at work. "She's the first friend I made and the longest-lasting friendship I've ever had."

“How long?” Hyo asks, leaning against the counter as you begin to take out ingredients.

“Let’s see…” you pause, thinking to yourself. “about… fifteen years now, give or take a year or so.”

Hyo whistles loudly, sucking her teeth. “That’s a very long time.”

“It is,” you nod, “but really, it doesn’t feel that way. She’s always keeping me on my toes.”

Hyo snorts, “I can tell.” You lightly elbow her in the shoulder before focusing back on the food in front of you. “So, how’d you meet the rest of them?”

“Through my parents and school.” You start chopping some of the fresh vegetables on a newly cleaned chopping board. “I met Min-Ji not too long after Jae. She was the class president, and I was one of the top students, so we naturally clicked. Our parents also were long-time friends, so that was another factor, of course.”

“Min-Ji… which one was she?” Hyo crosses her arms across her chest, trying to remember the faces of your friends from the party.

“She was wearing a black cocktail dress. She has long black hair–”

“Ah, yes.” Hyo snaps her fingers. “I remember. She had a very mature look.”

“That’s because she’s the oldest out of all of us.” You nod. “Da-Eun is the second oldest. She’s the sporty type.”

“Was she the one that almost attacked me for pulling you out of the house?” Hyo scoffs.

“Yes,” you laugh, “that was Da-Eun. But don’t hold it against her, she’s very hot-headed and protective by nature.”

“I won’t.” Hyo shrugs. “I think it’s important to have friends that care about you.”

“I agree. They’ve all got me through some tough times.” You move around the kitchen, pulling out spices and seasoning the food. “What about you, Hyo?”

“My friends…” she lets out a long sigh. “Are all the Bebe girls, Boss, and you.”

You give Hyo a bright smile, nudging her shoulder, “Aww, you really do consider me your friend.”

“Are you really that surprised?” She chuckles.

“No, I knew you couldn’t resist my friendly disposition.” you wink at her playfully.

“Right…” she trails off. “So what’s on the menu?”

“I’m making kimchi pancakes, and egg rolls.” You say, while beating the eggs.

“Do you need help, Ms. Lee?” The head cook suddenly cuts in, offering to cook for you.

“Oh no, it’s alright.” You kindly dismiss. “I’ve got it.”

The head cook lightly bows before returning to preparing Bada’s breakfast.

You glance at Hyo from the corner of your eye, motioning her to come closer. She raises her eyebrows, but complies. “I still find it a bit strange that all the staff call me Ms. Lee.” You whisper to her.

“Well, you are engaged to the Boss,” Hyo whispers back.

“But we’re not married yet.” You point out.

“In their minds, you already are. You’re the Boss’s wife.”

Hearing it said aloud makes it more real. Although you’ve been living in the Lee mansion, and getting to know everyone, it slips your mind that this large building will officially become your home in a few months. That all the staff will be working for you – though technically they already are – that Bada’s business will, in some ways, be yours as well.

You will have her last name. You will be her wife.

As if in a trance, you move about the kitchen on autopilot, cooking, and eventually cleaning once you’re finished.

And like divine timing, the doorbell from the very front gate sounds, ringing in the living room and kitchen, taking you by surprise. “They’re here.” You mumble, hurriedly plating the kimchi pancakes, egg rolls, and their drinks.

It takes them a few minutes to get past security detail – although Bada agreed to let them visit, her only caveat was that they’d need to go through extensive security, for your protection, of course. But the second they step into the living room, all of their eyes widen, stars in their irises as they take in the diamond teardrop chandelier, and the golden-trimmed decorations glittering in the morning sun.

“This looks like the inside of Buckingham Palace.” Jae awes, her hand covering her agape mouth.

“How do you know what the inside of Buckingham Palace looks like?” Da-Eun raises an eyebrow at the younger woman.

Jae playfully glares at her friend, smacking her on the shoulder lightly. “It was just an expression.”

“Control yourselves.” Min-Ji cuts in, trying to contain the look of utter shock and amazement marring her expression. “We’re in someone else’s home now, so no funny business.”

“Where’s unnie?” Ryung speaks up, looking around the vast living room for you.

“Sorry–” you walk in from the kitchen carrying plates in your hands, Hyo following close behind with some across her arms as well. “I would have greeted you right when you came in but I just finished plating the food.”

“Food?” Jae exclaims, her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “You made food for us?”

“You really didn’t have to–” Min-Ji says humbly.

You give them lightly scolding looks as you place down their food on the long dining table. It’s decorated to perfection; a crisp white tablecloth draped over the walnut wood table. Lit candelabras that drip hot candle wax rest in the center and outermost edges, small vases with blossoming flowers accompanying them. And to top it all off, in front of each dining chair, fine china and crystal wine glasses with embossed detailing are set aside next to firmly polished silverware.

“I invited you all over for breakfast, did you really think I wouldn’t serve any food?”

“We thought you would just let the staff make it instead,” Da-Eun admits.

“No, they’re already very busy preparing breakfast for Bada and Bebe.” You wave a hand in dismissal. “I didn’t want to burden them with any more work.”

“That’s so sweet of you!” Jae practically squeals, throwing herself at you and squeezing you tight in a hug.

You let out a small “oof” at the action, but eventually laugh and hug your best friend back. You stay like that only a minute before the sound of tiny sniffles reaches your ears, making you take a step back with a worried expression. Jae stares back at you with tears in her eyes, and a distressed look on her face. “Jae?” You say softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Unnie…” she trails off, her voice getting gradually louder. “You scared me!” She lunges forward, holding onto you like a koala bear while she sobs.

“Wha–”

“When you got kidnapped I was so scared! I really thought I’d never see you again.” She practically wails.

You look up from your best friend’s figure, your eyes locking with the other girls. They all wear solemn expressions, either looking at the ground or staring at you hollowly. Your heart squeezes in your chest, the realization that you hadn’t seen your friends face to face since that day finally dawning on you.

For hours, they must have been waiting at home, terrified out of their minds, wondering if you were dead.

You pat Jae on the back, comforting her. “I’m so sorry I worried you all.”

“We felt like it was our fault,” Ryung speaks up, hanging her head. “If we hadn’t thrown that party, you wouldn’t have been kidnapped.”

“If I’d have just pummeled that creep when I got the chance–” Da-Eun clenches her fist.

“None of what happened was your fault.” You cut in, voice stern. “I agreed to go to the party, despite knowing it would be dangerous for me. It’s my fault.”

The girls seem to perk up at your words, but only slightly.

“And Da-Eun, if you’d punched Seong, you probably would have ended up being taken hostage like me, or worse.” You point out. “Now stop commiserating and eat the breakfast I made for you.”

The girls reluctantly listen to you, all of them choosing a seat before thanking you for the food once again and digging in. Conversation flows easily after that, the topic of Seong and your kidnapping left far behind. Instead, you talk about lighter subjects, like what the girls had been up to while you recovered.

Once you all top off your breakfast, you walk your plates over to the kitchen and place them in the sink to clean them.

“Ms. Lee, would you like me to wash the dishes for you?” The head cook pops out of the kitchen, standing in front of you with his hands behind his back.

“Oh, it’s alright, we should do it.” You say, the girls behind you letting out murmurs of agreement as well.

The cook once again looks surprised but nods, ducking back into the kitchen as you begin cleaning.

"Ms. Lee, huh?" Jae playfully bumps your hip.

You let out a long sigh while chuckling. "I haven't gotten used to it yet."

"Well, you'd better because, in a matter of months, you'll be Mrs. Lee, the wife of the most powerful mafia boss in Seoul." Jae looks up at the sky, a giddy grin on her face.

"When is the wedding, by the way?" Min-Ji asks.

"Ah, we still haven't decided on a date yet," you mumble, having finished cleaning your plate, "but I think sometime in December."

"Oh, winter." Da-Eun nods.

"That’s a beautiful time to get married," Ryung comments.

"You know,” Jae begins. “I always thought Min-Ji would be the first of us to marry,"

"Really?" Min-Ji looks around at you all, a flush painting the apples of her cheeks.

"Well, you've had a boyfriend for what," Da-Eun starts flipping up her fingers, counting. "five years now?"

"Jung-Hoon will make a good husband," Jae remarks.

"Why are you all speaking as if we're already engaged?" Min-Ji blubbers, clearly embarrassed. "We still have a few years before we should start thinking about marriage."

"Yes, you do, Min." You call your friend by her nickname, lightly nudging Da-Eun and Jae in their sides. "You don't have to get married early like I am. It's all on your time."

With your last assertion hanging in the air, you and the girls finish cleaning up before heading toward the infinity pool on the second level of the mansion. The excitement rises between your friends the moment you step onto the terrace, their expressions starstruck at the clear water rippling against the opal tiles at the bottom of the pool.

They hurry over to the pool chairs, set down their bags, and strip their clothes off, leaving them in the swimsuits they had underneath.

"The water's so beautiful." Ryung approaches the pool, dipping her fingers into the water. "Do you go swimming often?" She asks you.

"Yes," you answer while taking off your clothing, your swimsuit catching the morning light. "It's very relaxing on warm days like this."

"I would kill to have a pool this big." Jae grabs your hands, walking you over to the steps of the pool where your friends wait for you.

You all tread in, the water fresh as it cradles the skin of your legs and chest, making you let out a content sigh. There's nothing quite like taking a dip during stifling heat.

As it turns out, wearing a suit during one of the hottest days of the week wasn't Bada's brightest idea. The black-tinted window in her office only manages to absorb some of the sun's unrelenting heat, leaving Bada still sweating in her clothing, huffs of annoyance escaping her mouth every few minutes.

"Ugh," she groans, pushing her work away and sitting back in her chair. She spreads her legs, finding her calves unnaturally stiff—hours of sitting will do that to you, she supposes. Standing up reluctantly, Bada immediately removes her tie and suit jacket, as well as undoes the first few buttons of her dress shirt.

She fans herself with one hand, the other reaching down to grab a glass of water she'd been given with her breakfast. She chugs the liquid down in seconds, sighing when she's finished.

Steeling herself, Bada moves to sit down again but finds her legs still stiff and grunts in mild pain. So she decides not to sit down, and instead paces around her office. She loops about five times before she grows agitated and walks towards the door. She'd been working for five hours, pouring through the ceiling-high proposal documents from another group and was frankly going stir-crazy from staring at the papers.

She opens the door and leaves her office, trudging down the hallway without a destination in mind. That is, until the sound of lively chatter reaches her ears, making her pause and look around with a confused expression. She follows the noises, worry and curiosity itching at the back of her mind.

She finds the source on the second-floor terrace and pauses at the entrance, half of her body hidden in the shadows. Her eyes snap over to the unknown women swimming in her pool, the confusion in her mind only doubling. But then she sees you speaking to them casually, a bright smile on your face as you splash water at the women, all of them retaliating back and causing a water fight.

Then, it clicks in her mind. Today is the day her friends were to come over, Bada thinks. She mentally berates herself for forgetting about it—too caught up in her piles of work to remember. Before she can linger on the thought for too long, your friend's chatter dies down into a calm conversation. Bada steps back from the entryway quickly, her back laying flat against wall. She knows she give you your privacy, but despite her better judgment, she stays rooted in her spot, listening.

"This is so nice," Da-Eun mutters with a smile, relaxing so she's floating at the water's surface.

"So," Min-Ji swims closer to you. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Not much," you admit. "Just... recovering. I had a pretty nasty bruise on my cheek. It just finished healing."

"Just finished healing?" Ryung frowns.

"But that was a while ago..." Jae adds.

"Seong had a heavy hand," you mumble, causing little ripples in the water by swishing your fingers back and forth.

Away from your view, Bada rests her head against the wall, her eyes staring up at the ceiling as images of your injury flash in her mind. She feels a pit form in her stomach at the memory, as well as a fire burning in her veins. Although she knows Seong is already long dead, it doesn’t stop the deep hatred in her heart from festering.

"At least it healed well," Min-Ji nods, pointing her finger at your skin, which is now free of discoloration.

"Yeah," you ghost your fingers across the skin of your left cheek, remembering how swollen it had been, as well as painted with yellow and purple hues.

Jae watches your movements closely, sympathy in her irises until she realizes something, and her eyebrows furrow. "Wait..." She reaches over and grabs your hand, holding it up to the sun. "Where's your ring?"

You give her a confused look. "What ring?"

"Your engagement ring," Jae says, looking at you expectantly.

Bada freezes in her spot, a feeling akin to a cold bucket of water being dumped over her head washing through her body. A ring.

 How could she be so stupid? She never presented you with an engagement ring (not to mention she hadn’t bought one in the first place), although you're both several months into your engagement. If her mother were alive, she'd scold her for her lack of manners and for being inconsiderate of your wants—what most women want more than anything—a beautiful and heartfelt piece of jewelry that encapsulates their spouse's devotion and feelings.

"Oh..." you trail off before Jae’s words fully register in your mind. "Oh. I don't have one."

"You don't have an engagement ring?" All the girls blurt out at once, their expressions a mix between shock and horror.

“I guess we never really got around to it.” You stare down at your empty ring finger, not exactly knowing how to feel. You hadn’t even realized that Bada never presented you a ring.

“Never got around to it?” Jae’s mouth drops. “How do you ‘never get around’ to getting your engagement ring?”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a rock the size of Seoul on your finger.” Da-Eun remarks, shaking her head.

“We’ve been very busy–” you try to explain.

“But it’s a ring.” Jae asserts.

You say nothing in response, lips pressing into a line and eyebrows crinkling.

The resounding silence marinating in the air makes Bada’s stomach drop. You must think of  her as an inconsiderate fiancée.

She berates herself in her mind as she speed-walks away, determined to make up for her oversight.

She’ll find you a ring befitting of your beauty.

Bada quickly realizes that finding the perfect engagement ring for you is more challenging than she initially thought. She's scrolled through countless websites of high-end jewelers, observing the sparkle of gold, white gold, silver – every type of finery imaginable. However, every ring she inspects falls short.

"Too gaudy," she thinks as she scans a ring with a disproportionately large diamond and a small band. "Too simple," her eyes scrutinize another ring, containing the smallest diamond she’s ever seen, with an equally bland and thin band.

In frustration, Bada pushes away her laptop, pulling her glasses onto her head and rubbing her eyes. "Why are engagement rings so hit or miss?" she asks the open air, as if expecting an answer.

Funnily enough, she does get a response. "Engagement rings?" Tatter steps into Bada’s office, carrying a large stack of paperwork.

"Tatter, if you are about to hand me another day’s work of documents, I might just lose my mind," Bada groans.

"I’m not handing it to you," Tatter says sheepishly, "I’m placing it on your desk."

Bada only groans louder, dropping her head onto the desk and lightly banging it against the wood repeatedly. "Boss…" Tatter trails off, grimacing. "You’re making me feel bad."

"Good," Bada huffs. "You should feel bad for me."

"Why are you so stressed out?" Tatter sets the papers down before stepping back.

"The ring," Bada rasps.

"What ring?" Tatter asks, her face skewed up in absolute confusion.

"The engagement ring. The one I never gave to my fiancée."

"You never gave unnie a ring?" Tatter says incredulously.

"No," Bada hollowly laments. "Now I’m trying to find a ring for her, but none of them are suitable."

"Can I see?" Tatter asks, motioning toward her boss’s laptop. Bada pushes her laptop in Tatter’s direction, showing her subordinate the screen. Tatter scans the images of the rings, pressing her lips together in thought. "This one’s nice." She points at a ring with a diamond in the middle, and two smaller diamonds next to it, resting on a thin, gold band.

Bada looks at the ring, her eyebrows furrowing. "I guess. But it’s nothing special. Her ring has to be special–"

"You know, rather than stressing out about it, why don’t you just find out what types of rings she likes?" Tatter cuts her off.

"And how do you suggest I do that?" Bada asks monotonously.

"Reconnaissance," Tatter smirks. "And I know just the perfect people for the job."

Bada picks up her head, staring at her subordinate with a wry expression – not quite sure if she should be worried or relieved.

The following day rolls around, the heat from yesterday having subsided into a comfortable chill.

"Hey kid, are you ready to go?" Hyo steps into your bedroom, her hands in her pockets as she watches you finish getting ready.

"Yes," you nod, voice quiet.

Your bodyguard frowns, stepping forward. "What’s with the sad look?"

You glance at Hyo, shaking your head. "I just have a lot on my mind. Sorry."

"It’s okay." Hyo places her hand on your shoulder. She guides you toward the doorway, but not before discreetly pulling out her phone and snapping a picture of your open jewelry box, your rings on full display.

"Why are we going out again?" You look back at Hyo, a dazed look on your face.

"You said you wanted to go for a walk and see the shops, remember?" She reminds you, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

"Oh, right." You nod, perking up a bit. "My mother asked me to pick up something for her at a store."

"Why doesn’t she pick it up herself?" Hyo steps up behind you, following as you begin your strides down the hallway and toward the spiral staircase leading to the first level.

"She’s packing for a trip." You sigh, "Can’t be bothered to leave her home for a second to pick up her designer dress."

"If you’ll let me speak a bit out of line…" Hyo trails off, her words pitching upward in a half-question.

"Yes, of course." You answer quickly. "We’re friends."

"...Your mother is quite the character." Your bodyguard asserts while digging out her phone from her pocket. She unlocks it while staying behind you and out of your line of sight, opening the picture she took of your jewelry box and sending it to Lusher.

She quickly types out, “Here it is,” with the picture attached to the message.

Seconds later, a gray bubble pops up, and Lusher responds. "Great, thanks!"

Hyo hastily sends another message, “We’d better get the ring ASAP. She’s been acting sad since yesterday…”

This time Lusher takes a few more minutes to respond, "Got it. Also, make sure to bring her to the right stores. Boss and I will be right behind you, so make sure to keep her distracted as much as possible."

Hyo texts back a thumbs-up emoji before closing her phone. 

"Character is an understatement." Your voice makes Hyo straighten up immediately.

"That’s the kindest way of expressing what I think about your mother. You are my boss, after all." Hyo points out, shoving her hands into her pockets causally.

"I’m not your boss." You say, turning back to glance at her with furrowed eyebrows. "Bada is."

"She’s ‘the Boss,’ but you’re my boss," Hyo explains. "She’s my employer, but my job is to watch over you when she can’t. You’re my superior."

"I don’t like how that sounds." You frown. "Can’t we just consider each other friends rather than deal with the semantics of superiors and subordinates?"

"If that would make you more comfortable." Hyo shrugs. “Anyway, what’s your mother packing for?”

"Her annual trip to Calivigny Island with my father," you sigh.

"Ah, in the Caribbean," your bodyguard whistles. "A private, luxury island that only accommodates fifty guests at a time."

"She usually travels during the summer, but she missed the trip earlier because she and my father were finalizing the deal between Bada and my proposal."

"Tragic," Hyo remarks sarcastically.

"Isn’t it?" you respond, a smile quirking up your lips as you finally reach the stairs and begin heading downwards. You quickly venture down them and out of the Lee mansion while Hyo heads to the garage, taking out your usual black sports car and parking it in front of the perron steps for you. She helps you in, closing the door behind you before pulling out of the driveway of the mansion and heading out of the open gates.

The doors of Louis Vuitton glitter in the darkening horizon like a beacon of illumination meant to attract wanderers in the chilly night. And like a moth infatuated with the light, you step in front of the doors, your eyebrows creased together.

“I don’t know why I feel so nervous,” you mutter under your breath.

“Hold your head up high, kid.” Hyo grabs the heavy handle of the door, using her strength to crack it open. “You have more power and influence than anyone inside that store.”

You take in a deep breath and nod, stepping into the store, a small draft of warm air caressing you like a friendly hug. Inside, a whirl of earthy perfume paired with notes of vanilla, makes its way to your senses. All the decorations are painted with a yellow and beige light, the bags hanging from shelves are highlighted like jewels.

And like a newly cut diamond, you remain unseen for only a second before the older jewels notice your radiance, their eyes finding yours instantly. Women and men in their most elegant and finest clothing appraise you, their irises barely swooping over you before they widen to impossible sizes. They start to whisper amongst each other, your appearance surprising them and causing their eyes to glitter with excitement.

You stride forward, remembering Hyo’s advice as you approach a saleswoman–who is notably frozen in her spot when she notices you coming toward them–before someone steps in your path.

A man carrying a tray with a single bottle of sparkling water stands in front of you, his eyes glistening under the light, and a friendly smile stretching across his lips. “Would you like a drink?”

“Oh–” you breathe out, surprised. “Yes, thank you very much.” You take the water bottle, and suddenly the man is out of your view, circling around you and grabbing the coat keeping you slightly hot in the already warm store.

“Allow me to hang your coat,” he mumbles, tucking the tray under his arm as he gently uses his gloved hands to pluck the clothing off of you.

You look back at the man with a slightly dazed expression but smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He bows in front of you before exchanging a brief nod with Hyo and stepping back.

You gather your bearings quickly and walk up to the saleswoman, slightly clearing your throat as you hear the giddy whispering from the shoppers increase. “I’m here to pick up an order.”

The saleswoman seems to have gathered herself in the time her co-worker had taken your coat and offered you the sparkling water because now she’s standing straight and has a semi-nervous smile strewn across her lips. “Yes, of course. I can take you to a private room if you’d like.” She gestures to a room concealed by a curtain carrying the “LV” logo.

“Oh no, that’s alright,” you wave a hand in dismissal. “I’m just here to pick up an order, I won’t be staying long.”

“Please, it might take a while for us to find the order.” The saleswoman insists. “You can relax and enjoy some refreshments while we fetch it.”

You glance at Hyo from your peripheral, who looks like she’s trying her hardest to hold in a laugh. Internally rolling your eyes at her, you nod at the saleswoman. “Alright. Thank you.”

“This way, please,” she guides you toward the secluded room, holding back the curtains for you and Hyo to step in.

Inside, there is a glass coffee table, a large ceramic vase sitting at the center of it with white club chairs circling it. Behind, there is a lit wall with water beading down it, and a large mirror across from it.

You move to sit in the chair, but Hyo’s fast, pulling out your seat for you, an amused smile still stretched on her lips. You give her a light glare but mumble a “thank you” nonetheless.

The saleswoman, who’d stepped out for a second without you even realizing it, emerges again, though this time she’s carrying a golden tray like the man from before with refreshments and towels.

“Would you like a hot towel?” She holds it out for you using prongs.

“Sure.” You say hesitantly, grabbing the towel and feeling its warmth awaken your (somehow still) cold fingers.

The woman sets down the tray on the coffee table, presenting you with small cakes and snacks. “Please, take whatever you’d like, and let me know if you need anything else.”

You nod back, glancing at the delicious slices of cake with an edacious stare.

“And what name would your order be under?” The saleswoman asks.

You mutter your mother’s name, and the worker quickly nods, bows, then leaves the room. The second she’s out of sight, you hear a chuckle come from behind you, causing you to whip your head around with a glare.

Hyo covers her mouth with her hand, as she laughs.

“You’re evil, you know that?” You huff.

“Sorry, it’s really just so funny.” Hyo can’t hold back her laughter anymore, essentially all-out laughing at you. “You looked like a deer in headlights.”

“Because I was!” You exclaim. “I just wanted to pick up my mother’s order; why are they doing all this?” You gesture to the room in front of you.

“I told you,” Hyo briefly takes off her sunglasses to wipe away the small tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes. “You have more power than anyone in here. Of course they’re going to be kiss-ups.”

You sigh loudly, sitting back in your chair. “One order, that’s all I wanted… now I feel like they’re going to make me stay longer.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyo agrees. “Just say in the nicest way possible that you want to leave, and they’ll let you.”

“You know, the least you could do is help me out.” You scoff lightheartedly. “I’m still new to this stuff.”

“I could do that…” Hyo nods while trailing off. “Or I could watch you struggle. It’s much funnier.” She bursts into a small chuckle at the end of the sentence.

“I hate you.” You groan.

“Oh come on, lighten up.” Hyo finally stops laughing, but her smile never leaves her. “Why don’t you try some of the snacks she gave you?”

You perk up at the thought, casting your eyes back on the tea cakes and tiny, but expensive-looking foods. You pick up what looks like a small slice of strawberry shortcake and eat it, the creamy filling and delicious jam making you smile widely. When you finish chewing–it takes less than a minute–you hold up the tray for Hyo to see. “Do you want some?”

“Nah, I’m good.” She shakes her head.

You move to place the tray down before she suddenly speaks again.

“Wait. Is there any chocolate cake…?”

Your trip to Louis Vuitton ended up yielding many revelations. Number one, Louis Vuitton has to be the worst case of sucking up that you’ve ever seen or experienced, and number two, Hyo is absolutely obsessed with anything chocolate flavored.

“How many free products do you think are in those bags?” You turn to look back at Hyo, who’s juggling three large Louis Vuitton bags in her arms–one of them your mother’s order and the rest filled with gifts–while trying to take a bite of the chocolate decorations she’d taken off of a cake.

“Too many to count.” She says, voice slightly muffled by the food in her mouth.

You laugh before turning back and walking down the sidewalk, passing by other high-end stores. You continue walking for a long stretch until you register the sound of heavy footsteps not too far away from you. You furrow your eyebrows; Hyo never walks with a heavy step.

You pause, “Hyo, what’s that sound?”

“What sound?” Hyo stops as well.

“Footsteps…” you trail off, looking from your left to your right, then behind. You don’t see anyone else trailing after you, your confusion doubling. Perhaps it was just your paranoia manifesting into phantom noises.

Hyo immediately snaps into professional mode, looking back as well. She reaches under her suit and feels for her gun holster, stepping forward. “Stay back a little, I’m going to check it out.” She advances quickly, her eyes scanning the area with calculating expertise.

When she reaches the corner of a store and an alleyway, she quickly turns into it, her gun held up.

Through the darkness of the night, Hyo is just barely able to make out the shocked faces of her Boss, and Lusher crouched next to the side of the building. “Boss?” Hyo whispers loudly, looking between Bada and Lusher.

“What are you doing?” Lusher whisper-yells back. “You’re supposed to be taking unnie into a jewelry store!”

“I would be if you weren’t stomping your feet behind us so loudly!” Hyo shoots back, lightly glaring at her friend.

“Yah, I told you to be quieter.” Bada scolds Lusher, nudging her arm. “You walk like you’re carrying one hundred pounds of extra weight.”

“Why are you two ganging up on me?” Lusher whines. “I’ll try to be more quiet–”

“Hyo?” Your voice breaks through the chilly night air, causing the three women to stiffen up. “Is everything alright?”

“Yup, yes!” Hyo steps out of the alleyway with a forced smile, giving you a thumbs-up. “Everything’s perfect! It was just some drunk stumbling around.”

You give Hyo a hesitant look before nodding and turning to stare at the passersby across the street.

She quickly ducks back into the alleyway, tucking her gun back into its holster. “Lusher, if you want to keep following us, either lighten your step or stay farther back.”

“Okay, I will.” Lusher pouts, receiving another nudge from Bada.

Your fiancée looks Hyo up and down, noticing the Louis Vuitton bags hanging from her arms. “You’re carrying her bags. Good.”

Hyo smiles widely. “Thanks, Boss.”

“Did the trip go smoothly?”

“Yes, she was a bit out of her depth at first, but she handled all the attention well,” Hyo reports back like a proud sister.

Bada smiles to herself, thinking about you awkwardly speaking to the workers in the Louis Vuitton store, not used to being attended to like a high-ranking socialite. Everything you do is endearing to her–she only wishes she was there to see you sparkling amongst snobbish shoppers. “That’s my girl.” She whispers to herself.

Hyo and Lusher barely catch what Bada said, but in response, they both look at each other knowingly and smile.

“Alright, don’t keep her waiting.” Bada cuts in, shifting her demeanor back to cold. “And make sure she stays warm.”

“Yes, Boss.” Hyo nods then steps out of the alleyway, approaching you with fast strides. “Sorry, I took so long.”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “I was just doing some people-watching while I waited.”

“Right, well, the car is this way.” Hyo motions forward, only briefly glancing back to see Lusher and Bada’s head peeking out from the corner of the store.

You walk forward without a second thought, your head up in the clouds as you take in the beautiful starry sky, and the cloud of perspiration released when you exhale into the icy air. You walk in silence for the length of a block before Hyo breaks the silence.

“Oh, look, a jewelry store.” She tries to say casually as she stops right in front of it. “All of the pieces are beautiful.”

You pause where you stand, turning to face the store, a pit in your stomach growing. Your bodyguard is right, all the jewelry is beautiful. From teardrop diamond earrings to pearl necklaces and dainty bracelets.

But all you can look at are the rings.

The sign above them reads, “Two hearts, one love, forever in your ring.” You turn away from the store, a lump in your throat and a frown on your lips. Clearing your throat, you mumble. “Should we keep walking toward the car?”

Hyo glances to her right again, seeing Bada and Lusher motioning frantically at her to get you to go inside. “Uhhm, don’t you want to look at the pretty jewelry? Maybe pick something up for yourself?” She suggests.

“No–” You begin, but are cut off by a loud sound.

“Ow!” Lusher’s voice rings from behind the store, her hand rubbing at her foot. “You stepped on me–”

Bada slaps her hand over Lusher’s mouth, her eyes wide and her pointer finger coming up to make a “shush” motion. Lusher immediately calms down, suddenly realizing her mistake and wearing a mortified expression.

“What was that?” You take a step forward, about to head toward the sound before Hyo stands in your way.

“Probably just another drunk.” She says quickly. “No need to worry.”

You try to look over her shoulder, but she carefully pushes you forward and in the direction of the jewelry store. “Okay…”

“Well why don’t we go inside the jewelry store–”

“Actually, can we go home?” You ask, avoiding eye contact with the store and stepping back.

Hyo’s smile starts to twitch. “Come on, maybe just a peek–”

“Please.” You interrupt quietly, looking down at the floor.

Hyo sees out of her peripheral that Bada’s shaking her head and frowning, so she sighs and nods. “Alright, let’s go home.”

You turn and walk away quickly, eager to escape the thoughts plaguing your mind. Your bodyguard follows after you, having failed her mission terribly. Behind you, both Lusher and Bada step onto the sidewalk, the subordinate clutching her head in distress.

“She didn’t even look at the rings!” Lusher exclaims, deflated and looking dejected.

Bada remains quiet, watching you walk down the street, the wind whipping her coat around. “Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, clearly! We’ll never find a ring for her at this rate,” Lusher says, expressing her frustration.

“No, I mean,” Bada pauses, placing her hand over the right side of her chest. “My heart. It hurts when I see her sad.”

Lusher stops whining, facing her boss with a caring expression. “What does it feel like?”

“It feels like I’m getting stabbed,” Bada admits, her face scrunching up in confusion and pain. “I want to rip my heart out and give it to her. I want to do everything in my power to make her smile when she frowns like that.”

Lusher lets out a deep sigh, sympathizing with her friend. “Oh, Bada…”

“I felt like this when she was taken by Seong,” Bada whispers. “But back then, I thought it was because I was worried about bringing her home safe.” She turns to face her subordinate, clutching her chest tightly. “Why do I feel like this?”

Lusher smiles sadly at her friend. “You’re in love.”

“...In love?”

Love was not the answer, she concluded. No, love could never be the answer. Since you first arrived at her home, Bada made it clear to you that she’d never fall in love with you. So the mental and emotional anguish she’s been feeling for the past few days must have been due to the stress of her work… right?

Either way, whether it was unconsciously or consciously at first, Bada started to avoid you. She found that seeing you less would make the stabbing pain in her heart subside, and even if it didn’t fully fade away, throwing herself into her work was a perfect distraction.

But it wasn’t easy. Obviously, you began to notice that your already few-and-far-between visits from Bada became essentially nonexistent. So naturally, you started to make an effort to see her. You tried to bring her breakfast in the morning like you had during your first month in the Lee mansion but hit a wall.

“The Boss will be taking her breakfast alone from now on,” Lusher informs you, trying to hold back her frown when she sees the excitement in your eyes dim, and how you practically wilt.

“How long?” You whisper.

“For the foreseeable future,” Lusher says through gritted teeth. It’s taking everything in her to not just let you into Bada’s office. But at the end of the day, nothing is stronger than Bebe’s loyalty.

“Oh,” you take a step back, trying to wear a friendly smile but failing. “I’ll come see her later, then.”

Lusher hesitates. “Not to speak out of line, unnie…”

You perk up, looking into her eyes.

“But I think it’s best for your emotional state if you keep your distance,” she advises you, her tone gentle and full of care.

But of course, being the determined and stubborn woman you are, you don’t heed Lusher’s words… to your detriment.

After days of only traveling between her office and her bedroom, Bada finally emerges from her work, having signed and looked over all the documents she’d been given for the week. In her desperation for a change in scenery, she left her office, completely forgetting why she’d been hiding away in the first place.

“Bada!” You call from behind her, a smile stretching across your lips.

The sound of your voice makes Bada freeze. The pain in her heart spikes, and a wave of regret flows through her. She doesn’t respond to you but stays rooted in her spot.

You run to your fiancée’s side, making quick eye contact with her. But the look she wears surprises you. Her dark brown, almost gray irises stare back at you like an impenetrable stone wall, hiding away any emotion she may be feeling.

For the first time in her life, Bada feels like she’s able to successfully hide her emotions. Because hearing your voice and seeing you makes every fiber of her body come to life. Perhaps it's because it’s been so long since she’s seen you.

The days she’d spent locked inside her office or bedroom made the sight of you even more irresistible. Your eyes, which she hadn’t met in what felt like decades shine under the light with an endearing gleam. Your body, which she hadn’t touched makes her fingers twitch, every digit aching to caress any and all of your flesh. Your lips…

Bada has to use all her willpower to stop herself from wrapping her arms around you and kissing you. The yearning her body has to embrace you and touch you drives her mad.

“Lusher was right.” Is all she can think.

…The realization disgusts her.

How could she be so selfish? How could she fall in love with you knowing full well all the torment and danger her feelings will bring you? How could she allow herself to fall victim to your every smile and caring saccharine phrases? How could she when she knows that she may end up laying in the street, sobbing, holding your cold body in her arms while you stare up at her, the light gone from your eyes, and crimson falling from your chest?

Your smile starts to slowly wither, a slightly timid expression encompassing your face. “Bada?” You mumble. “You finally came out of your office.”

A deathly silence echoes in the hallway, not a sound leaving Bada’s lips. She only moves her gaze away from you, instead staring straight in front of her.

“Uhm, I was going to ask you if we could maybe spend some time together?” Your voice comes out low, nervous, and like you’re unsure of yourself.

Again, that nasty tugging on Bada’s heart hits her, but this time she reacts to it by closing her eyes and breathing out through her nose. For her, it’s a method of calming herself down.

But to you, it relays a sense of annoyance you assume she’s feeling.

Once again she doesn’t answer you, making you shift uncomfortably in your spot. You stare at her with pleading eyes, begging her to say anything to you. Even just letting you know that she’s listening to you, and not acting like you’re a pesky fly on the wall, buzzing in her ear.

“I have work to do.” Finally, when she speaks, her tone is clipped, and full of ice.

You physically react, your limbs shaking at her phantom frost. Before you can even open your mouth again, Bada turns and walks in the opposite direction towards her office.

You’re left in the hallway, stunned and wondering if Bada was aware of the trail of heartbreak she’d left in her wake.

And yet despite everything, you keep trying to get through to Bada.

You try because you care. You try because no matter how hard you remind yourself that your union to her was just business, you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with her.

She saved you from your parents, after all. She gave you a home that you could call yours–she introduced you to the Bebe girls, who you now considered your close friends. She brought you into a world of glitz and glamor, while still protecting you and watching over you with the utmost care.

How could you not fall in love with her?

So, with a world of fluttering butterflies nesting in the depths of your stomach, you take in a deep breath and knock on her office door. When you pull your fist away from the wood, you’re met with an uncomfortable silence. Swaying nervously, you play with your fingers, waiting another minute before mustering the courage to knock again.

This time, a small sound emanates from inside, perhaps a loud inhalation or the sound of an annoyed breath. Your stomach turns at the thought.

When you withdraw your fist from the wood, an uncomfortable silence engulfs the space. Swaying nervously, you toy with your fingers, mustering the courage to knock again after waiting another minute.

This time, a faint sound emanates from within, perhaps a pronounced inhalation or an exasperated breath. Your stomach churns at the notion.

"Who is it?" Bada's frosty voice compels you to stand tall, the butterflies in your belly fluttering wildly, creating a tempest.

“It’s me,” you speak cautiously.

For what feels like the millionth time, a hush falls between you and Bada.

“...I’m busy,” is all she utters in response.

You close your eyes and gulp, uncertain of your next move. On one hand, you don’t want to disturb Bada, especially when she sounds visibly irritated. On the other hand, the yearning to see your fiancée again is overpowering. Being separated from her renders the hallways of the Lee mansion colder, your life dimmer, and the world slower in its spin.

“Bada…” you trail off, your voice low and caring. “I haven’t spoken to you properly in days.”

This time, there's little dead air before a chair scrapes against the floor, and her footsteps approach the door. Surprised, you take a step back just before she opens the door, keeping it ajar so you can see her but not enter her office.

“I told you, I’m busy,” she says plainly, her gaze avoiding yours.

Your eyebrows furrow as you try to meet her eyes. “You should take a break; you've been working nonstop for days now.”

“I have to,” Bada defends her actions.

“I understand that,” you nod slowly, acknowledging the stress she must be under. “But it’s not good for your health.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to say it aloud, but Bada looks exhausted. Bags and dark circles under her eyes, absent before, now paint a picture of fatigue. Moreover, the expression she wears hints at an imminent collapse.

“You should take a nap, or if you really don’t want to rest, we can relax and watch this drama together–” you start to grow excited at the idea, a smile forming on your lips.

Meanwhile, Bada confronts a dilemma. She acknowledges her love for you, plain and simple. She wants to eschew work, opting to watch a drama with you, to hold you close and sleep with the comforting weight of your presence. Yet, her mind brands her feelings as selfish, a slow-acting poison disguised in sweet wine—pleasurable until it brings forth your demise.

“You expect too much of me,” Bada says through gritted teeth, spitting the words out with venom that extinguishes the small smile you’d nurtured.

“What?” You breathe, confusion clouding your expression.

“You ask me to spend time with you, you want us to watch a drama together,” she lists. “These affections you are asking of me–” She cuts herself off, shaking her head with a bored expression. “It is inappropriate. We are not a couple.”

In just a few words, Bada annihilates your world. The meticulously crafted memories of your time with your fiancée crumble, collapsing under the weight of her words. "We are not a couple." The phrase echoes in your mind, torturing you until your ears ring.

You visibly flounder, opening and closing your mouth in genuine shock. “Where is this coming from?” You ask incredulously.

“I told you I would not fall in love with you,” Bada argues. “Our union was a tactical business move that benefitted me and your parents, that is all. You are nothing more to me.”

As if your heart could shatter further, it bleeds in your chest, oozes crimson red, and cries out to be spared. For a brief moment, you're left so shell-shocked that you almost lose all sense of self. Rooted in your spot, you stare into Bada’s eyes as every part of your body pulsates with insurmountable pain.

“We don’t act like we’re in a marriage of convenience,” you fight back, words a hushed and hurt whisper.

She doesn’t respond, simply looks ahead, acknowledging the truth. She hasn’t treated you as a friend for months, let alone an acquaintance for longer.

“Bada. Look at me,” you order, your voice gaining slight confidence.

Slowly, Bada shifts her gaze to meet yours. In her dark brown irises, a storm rages—a tempest of unspoken feelings concealed behind a sheet of ice. Staring into Bada’s eyes, you shake your head with a hurt expression. The woman in front of you is unrecognizable. She doesn’t resemble your fiancée and the woman you fell in love with; she's a shadow, an imitation.

"Who are you?" Your eyes question Bada.

“I don’t know,” her eyes confess.

You take a step back from Bada, tears welling in your eyes. “You are cruel, Bada Lee.” Without uttering another word, you turn and rush away, almost colliding with Lusher, standing around the corner with Tatter by her side.

Lusher watches you leave with a disapproving look. She glances at Bada, who stands stock-still, appearing as if she’d been stabbed in the heart.

Her boss makes eye contact with her. “What? Aren’t you going to tell me off?” Bada says harshly.

Lusher only shakes her head disapprovingly, looking away from her friend.

Bada scoffs, clicking her tongue as she brushes past Lusher and Tatter, heading toward the stairs and the door to the Lee mansion.

Tatter takes a step forward, a worried look on her face. “Shouldn’t we go after them?”

Lusher holds her arm out to stop Tatter from walking ahead. “It isn’t our place,” she says softly. “It’s time for Bada to face her past.”

Blown glass casts colored shadows across Bada’s fair skin. Her grim expression contrasts with the bright colors, and the bouquet of sunflowers clutched between her fingers adds a touch of vibrancy. In front of her, a gold placard engraved with her mother’s name stares back at her.

“Hello, mother,” Bada murmurs into the open air. “I’m sorry; it’s been a while since I’ve visited you. I’ve been busy.” She shifts her gaze to the floor. “I met a woman.” She utters your name with reverence, “You would have loved her.”

She closes her eyes, envisioning your lively and beautiful countenance.

“You’ll be surprised to hear that I'm engaged to her now. We are to be wed in December.”

“You are cruel, Bada Lee.” Her mind echoes your words, and she opens her eyes.

“Well, perhaps not anymore,” Bada steps forward, exchanging the wilting flowers beside her mother’s grave with a new bouquet. The bright yellow sunflowers pop next to the gold, infusing the room with more color. “She made me feel strange emotions,” Bada confesses.

She thinks back to the first time she had a proper conversation with you. You’d come into her office and brought her breakfast, standing tall and confident as you poked and prodded, asking questions about her.

“When she’s happy, I’m at peace,” Bada reflects. Her thoughts then shift to Seong. “When she was taken from me, I was infuriated.” Her fingers unconsciously curl into a fist. She places her hand over her heart, feeling it beat wildly against her palm.

Her heart sings for you, no matter where she might be.

“But I know better.” Bada shakes her head. “I know better than to let myself care about her.” She thinks of the way she’d spoken to you an hour prior–how she’d lied to you– “So I hurt her.” She says, her voice low and full of shame. “I said whatever I could think of to make her hate me.”

Outside, the wind whips violently, thrumming against the mausoleum.

“...Because loving me is a death wish.”

13 years ago 

A bright-eyed, 15-year-old Bada Lee steps out of her private school, her eyes scanning the myriad of luxury cars to find a silver Ferrari LaFerrari, the hypercar her bodyguard drives. Suddenly, the sound of a loud engine pulls up next to the curb of the school, right in front of where Bada stands.

“Ms. Lee.” Chung-Hee steps out of the car, a pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes!” Bada nods excitedly, heading toward Chung-Hee. He quickly moves to grab her backpack before opening the car door, the silver sides of the car shooting up into the air like wings. “Thank you,” Bada says as she piles in, a wide smile on her face.

Chung-Hee simply nods as he sets her backpack in the front passenger seat before sitting in the driver’s spot. He pulls out of the driving lot with ease, heading away from the school. “How was your day today, Ms. Lee?”

“Very good.” Bada nods. “Actually, I was talking to some of my friends…”

“Seoyoung Lee, right?”

“Yes.” Bada smiles. “She and some others were talking about taking some dance classes after school–”

“Ms. Lee…” Chung-Hee sighs. “You are already very busy with your English and piano lessons, not to mention horseback riding and taekwondo–”

“I know that, Chung.” Bada huffs endearingly. “But this is something I really want to do, not just another hobby my father makes me take up so that I can find a husband.”

Chung-Hee lightly drums his fingers against the wheel. “You’ll have to ask both your father and your mother–”

“Yes, I know that.” Bada makes a cheeky expression. “That is why I’m going to speak to my mother right when we arrive home so that she can convince my father.”

“Ah, your mother is not currently home,” Chung-Hee informs her. “She is buying groceries for dinner tonight.”

“Then will you take me to her, please?” Bada begs, pitching her tone upwards.

“I was instructed to take you straight home–”

“Pleaseeee Chung?” Bada continues, staring through the rearview mirror so that her bodyguard can see her properly.

Chung-Hee sighs in defeat. “One of these days you’re going to get me fired.”

Bada squeals in excitement, practically bouncing in her seat. “You know that’s not true. My father considers you a close friend.”

“I guess I am lucky in that regard.” Chung-Hee breathes.

“Well, anyway…” Bada sits back, her smile never dimming. “How is your daughter, Chung?”

Immediately, Chung-Hee sits up in his seat, a bright grin overtaking his lips. “She’s great, thank you for asking. And she’s doing wonderfully in school.”

“You must be proud of her then.”

“Yes, I am,” Chung-Hee says fondly. “She’s so intelligent, it blows my mind.”

Bada smiles sadly as she nods.

“And she looks up to me. Says she wants to be just like me when she’s older.”

“She sounds wonderful, Chung,” Bada whispers.

The rest of the car ride continues in a comfortable silence, although Bada shifts her gaze to stare out of the window. She counts every passing minute, becoming more and more restless to see her mother.

Finally, the car eventually slows down across the street from a grocery store. Bada starts to grin, practically buzzing in her seat. Sensing her excitement, Chung-Hee parks the car and quickly exits, opening the door, only for Bada to practically shoot out of the car and rush over to the grocery store.

Chung-Hee only sighs. “Yah, one day she really is going to get me fired.”

Inside the grocery store, Bada barely pays attention to the way the shoppers gape at her, only intent on finding her mother. She uses her long legs to quickly make her way through the aisles until she spots a familiar head of hair near the fresh produce. Bada makes her way over to her mother, calling out to her.

“Mother!” She says, only a few feet away.

Bada’s mother immediately turns around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion until she spots her daughter rushing toward her. “Bada?” She responds, a smile growing on her lips. “What are you doing here?”

Bada stops right in front of her mother, throwing her arms around her in a hug that the older woman immediately reciprocates. “Chung-Hee told me you weren’t home, so I asked him to drive me here.”

“And where is he now?” Bada’s mother scans the store, searching for a tall man wearing sunglasses.

“Oh…” Bada unwarps herself from her mother and then turns to look behind her, only now noticing her bodyguard is nowhere to be seen. “I must have left him behind.”

Her mother sighs and shakes her head disapprovingly. “Where are your manners, Bada? You have that poor man running after you all day.”

“Sorry,” Bada mumbles out half-sincerely. Her mother glances at her before gently patting her back, prompting her to continue walking. “Are you done shopping?”

“Yes, I have everything I need to make dinner tonight.” Her mother smiles.

“Why do you come to grocery stores anyway?” Bada asks. “The staff bring in fresh ingredients and foods every day.”

“They do, and while I appreciate all they do for us,” her mother walks over to the cash register, placing her groceries on the counter. “It’s important to never become lazy. As your mother and the woman of the house, it’s my responsibility to prepare you and your father’s dinner, even occasionally.”

Bada listens to her mother’s words carefully, nodding along in agreement. She watches her mother hand over a heavy golden credit card to the cashier, who is about to refuse the payment, but her mother’s bright smile and persistence makes him give in and take the card, charging her for the food.

“Besides, the staff deserve to rest every once and a while, don’t you think?” Bada’s mother continues.

“Yeah.” Bada remains in awe of her mother’s humility and kindness.

“What made you so eager to see me that you came all the way here, by the way?” She asks her daughter, helping the worker bag her groceries, despite his insistence that he should do it himself.

“Ah,” Bada suddenly smiles nervously, grabbing two of the heaviest bags to help her mother carry out of the grocery store. “Do you remember my friend Seoyoung?”

“Of course I do, she’s your oldest friend, isn’t she?”

Bada nods. “Well she and some of my other friends wanted to take some dance classes after school, and maybe join a dance club afterward–”

“I see.” Her mother nods. “So you came to ask me to convince your father to let you, is that right?”

Bada stares at her mother with a sheepish expression. “Yes.”

“I don’t know, Bada. Won’t you be much too tired after school? And don’t forget you have piano lessons right after–”

“I promise I can handle it.” She says with conviction. “I’ll do all my lessons and taekwondo every day even after dance.”

“You’ll be exhausted–”

“I won't,” Bada argues with a small pout. “Please, mother: I think dance is something I could be very good at.”

The older woman pauses, turning to look into her daughter’s eyes. She sees them shine with confidence and pure hope, which makes her smile. “Okay,” she nods. “I’ll speak to your father about it.”

“Yes!” Bada cheers, side-hugging her mother the best she can with her hands preoccupied. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The older woman laughs, leaning into her daughter’s side. “Of course. If dancing is something you think you’ll enjoy, then I fully support you trying it out.”

That evening, under the warm Seoul sun, Bada experiences her last moments of pure happiness, unencumbered by worries or fear. She simply laughs with her mother, her heart bursting at the seams with love for the woman who cared for and nurtured her.

Her happiness blinds her to the moving figure across the street.

Ji-ah, Bada’s mother’s bodyguard has his head down as he crosses the street. Her mother smiles at him, greeting him again with a wave. But her eyes catch something, a glint of silver clutched in his right hand and almost completely concealed from her by his suit jacket. Her smile fades, confusion stretching across her face until she spots another man peering from the corner of a building, a nasty smirk on his face.

A blur of motion crosses Bada’s eyes before a loud popping sound fills the air.

The neighborhood falls into silence after, Bada jolting at the noise in shock. She looks around the street blearily, her mind still trying to catch up as her ears ring.

“Mo–” Before Bada can call out to her, the body of her mother falls into hers. They collapse in the street, grocery bags broken and food spilling out onto the concrete as Bada lets out a small huff of pain and surprise. She looks down, finding her mother splayed across her lap, a gunshot wound in her chest. “M-Mother?” Bada stutters in shock, her eyes growing wide in horror as she wraps her arms around her mother’s body.

In her daughter’s lap, Mrs. Lee breathes heavily, her eyes glazing over as pools of crimson fall from her chest, staining Bada’s hands bright red.

“No, no, no.” Bada breathes, placing her hand against her mother’s wound. “Ma… ma please stay awake.” She pleads, tears beginning to fall from her eyes as her heart pounds in her chest, a stabbing pain puncturing the organ. 

“Are you hurt?” Her mother barely manages to choke out, raising her pale hand to clutch the side of her daughter’s face.

“No.” Bada shakes her head, now fully sobbing.

A few feet away, Chung-Hee finally arrivies near the grocery store, having been held back by a group of men. He recognised them to be lackeys of a rival of Mr. Lee, and swung before they got the jump on him. He managed to beat them all to a pulp before rushing down the street, his mind racing with thoughts of Mrs. Lee and Bada being in potential danger.

Before he could make it to them he spots Ji-ah brandishing a gun, and holding it up in their direction. He fires without a second thought, hitting Mrs. Lee. 

Chung-Hee pulls out his gun quickly, shooting at Ji-ah across the street. He manages to hit him in the chest, then quickly fires again, emptying five more rounds into the traitor before Ji-ah falls to the concrete, dead.

Bada, unable to focus on the chaos around her only stares at her mother while sobbing, rocking back and forth. “Umma,” she cries, “Umma please, stay awake!”

Mrs. Lee only smiles, brushing her thumb against her daughter’s cheek. “You are beautiful.” She utters, her eyes filled with pure love and adoration. “I could not have asked for a kinder, gentler daughter.”

“Umma,” Bada closes her eyes, shaking her head as her tears grow hot, their salty liquid burning her cheeks.

“I love you.” Mrs. Lee whispers.

With the last of her strength gone, her eyes glaze over and her hand falls away from Bada’s cheek, hitting the concrete with a thud.

“No, umma!” Bada practically screams, clutching her mother’s body close to her chest as her frame starts to physically shake. “I love you too, please don’t leave me! Please, umma!”

Chung-Hee rushes over to Bada’s side, trying to separate her from her mother’s dead body. Bada only shoves him away, her eyes full of pure sorrow.

The sound of fast-approaching cars–her father’s men– just barely registers in Bada’s mind, reminding her of the shooter.

Bada shifts her gaze to the dead body across the street, her eyes going ice-cold at the sight of Ji-ah sprawled across the concrete.

Poison.

“Would you hate me for what I’ve done?” Bada speaks to her mother’s headstone. “For pushing her away?”

The wind thrashes against the windows.

“Because I do.” Bada admits.

The sunflowers next to her mother’s headstone quiver withthe breeze.

“I don’t know what to do with myself.” Bada places her hands over her eyes, feeling tears build inside them. “I should be happy that she hates me. I should be happy that she’ll stay away from me and be safe, but–”

The tears she’s been holding in finally break through. For what feels like the first time in 13 years, Bada Lee cries.

“I hate myself. I want to tear myself apart for all the things I said to her.” She confesses, sobbing. “I love her. I love her more than anything.”

The sunflowers shake.

“I want to be with her. I want to tell her that I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” Bada’s heart races in her chest as she heaves. She tears her hands away from her face so she can see her mother’s headstone. “I wish you were here to guide me–to tell me what to do–”

Suddenly, the violent winds from outside cause the door to the mausoleum to whip open, the strong breeze blows past Bada, swiping the tears from her cheeks and rushing toward the sunflowers. The sheer force of the wind sends flower petals into the air, making Bada stare up at them in shock.

Then, a memory comes rushing back to the forefront of her mind.

22 years ago

Six year old Bada races through the garden next to her father’s office, giggling at the small birds nesting in a tree above her. She tries to reach for them–but although being very tall for her age–she can’t touch the branch they reside on.

Bada tries to stretch her legs even further, standing on her tippytoes as she reaches her arms up–but she immediately loses her balance, making her wobble until she falls back.

Unfortunately, Bada’s excitement made her blind to the fact that just behind her lied a bushel of roses, their thorns giving her a painful greeting as her back and arms get caught on the spikes.

“Ouch!” She hisses, quickly removing herself from the flowers. She now has a few cuts and scrapes littering her arms, which makes tears rush to her eyes. She starts to sniffle, about to begin crying–

“Bada.” The sound of her mom’s voice distracts her, making the young girl look up.

“Umma.” Bada says tearrily.

“What happened?” Mrs. Lee rushes over to her daughter’s side, her eyes filled with worry as they take in the small cuts all over her arms.

“I fell into the–the thorns.” Bada hiccups, pointing at the offending flowers.

“Bada, I told you not to play near the roses.” Her mother softly scolds her, gently picking her daughter up and placing her in her lap.

“I’m sorry umma.” Bada sniffles, wiping her tears away with the palm of her hands.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Mrs. Lee looks over her daughter’s injuries. “Thankfull, none of the cuts are too deep, but I’ll clean them–”

Bada, now much less emotional, shifts her attention away from her mother, instead staring up to find the birds in the tree above them. They rub their beaks and heads against each other, their eyes closed as they rest in their nest.

“Umma.” Bada suddenly interrupts her mother.

Mrs. Lee pauses, noticing her daughter is looking upward, and glances up as well. “Yes?”

“What does being in love feel like?”

Her mother looks down at her in surprise, a small smile growing on her lips. “Why do you ask?”

Bada looks away from the birds and at her feet instead. “Some of my friends were talking about love because Valentine’s Day is coming up. They said we should give chocolates to boys we love.”

Mrs. Lee’s smile widens, “Ah, I see.”

“But I don’t feel anything when I think about the boys in my class.” Bada mumbles. “So I want to know what I should be feeling.”

Mrs. Lee caresses the top of her daughter’s hair, completely endeared by the young girl. “You’re still young, Bada. You might not feel such strong emotions yet.”

Bada looks up at her mother, her eyes wide and pleading.

Mrs. Lee sighs, then nods. “Alright.” She moves her daughter around in her lap so she’s facing her. “When you’re in love, all you can think about is your partner. You wake up in the morning and your mind instantly goes to them. ‘What are they doing right now?’ ‘Have they eaten breakfast yet?’ ‘Did they sleep well?’” Bada’s mother mumbles. “When you’re with them, you smile very wide.” She reaches over to pinch her daughter’s cheeks, stretching her lips into a smile. Young Bada giggles at the action, her lips easily forming a grin.

Her mother laughs along with her, removing her hands from her daughter’s cheeks.

“And when you’re away from them, you’re very sad.” She makes a small frown, which Bada mimics cutely. “You want to be with them every waking moment.”

Bada glances down at her lap, her eyebrows furrowing. “And what if I can’t tell if I’m in love or not?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Mrs. Lee nods.

“How?” Bada pouts.

Her mother thinks for a moment before smiling. She grabs her daughter’s arms and slowly starts to place kisses on her small cuts. Bada looks at her mother in surprise, a few giggles slipping from her lips at the action.

“You'll realize you're in love when you see your partner hurt, and all you want to do is make them feel better,” her mother mumbles. “You wish you had magical powers to heal all their wounds–” She places a kiss on Bada’s last cut. “So, you end up kissing every injury to help them heal.”

Bada breathes in wonder, her eyes glittering under the sunlight. “Is that why appa always gives you a kiss when you get hurt?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Lee nods, grinning widely. “He helps me get better, and it’s his way of telling me he loves me.”

“But what if one day you get really hurt, and appa isn’t there to give you a kiss?” Bada asks. “Will you not heal?”

“In that case, I’ll have to be strong and get better on my own.” Her mother whispers softly. “Although I wish I could, I can’t always rely on your father to take care of me. I need to be independent as well.”

“I think I know what it means to be in love now.” Bada smiles. “I’m excited to fall in love!”

Mrs. Lee laughs warmly. “That’s good, sweetheart. You should be very excited to find someone who will also kiss your wounds.” Together, mother and daughter sit in the garden, their heads and hearts filled with love. 

A strong breeze suddenly whips around them, plucking a few sunflower petals from the bushel next to the roses. They dance and flutter in the air, making both Bada and her mother stare up at them in amazement. 

As yellow sunflower petals fall onto the mausoleum floor, Bada smiles widely. She closes her eyes and nods. “I understand now, mother.” Opening her eyes, she glances at her mother’s headstone. “I know what I must do.”

She says one final goodbye to the resting place of her mother before racing out of the private cemetery, and toward her Porsche 918 Spyder. She’s about to pull out of the parking lot when her eyes catch a store across the street. She freezes in her spot, mesmerized.

There, on display, a misty gem sat atop a golden band surrounded by small diamonds, with flower-shaped gold holding onto the gem. It’s a unique, but beautiful ring.

“Perfect.” Bada breathes.

Arriving back at the Lee mansion, a cloud of sorrow and heartbreak fills the halls. Bada winces as she trudges up the stairs, guilt causing her throat to close up. Her feet take a mind of their own, leading her on autopilot to the place where she longs to be most, with you.

Bada stares at the wood of your door, suddenly feeling immensely nervous. She wonders if you’d felt this way when you bravely knocked on her door hours prior.

She raises her fist to knock, her ears just barely picking up the sound of small sniffles behind the door. Her heart screams in her chest.

She waits a few moments with no response before grabbing onto the doorknob, and twisting it open. Bada steps into your room hesitantly, her eyebrows furrowing at what she sees.

You’re sitting in your bed, your hands covering your eyes as you silently weep into them. Lusher sits beside you, rubbing your back soothingly as she tries to calm you. She looks up at the sound of Bada coming in, her eyes moving to Hyo who stands next to the door.

Hyo does nothing, simply glances between you and her boss while gnawing her bottom lip.

Lusher casts her disapproving gaze onto Bada, but her friend quickly shakes her head. Bada steps forward and walks to your side, kneeling next to the bed.

“Hey,” She says to you softly.

You don’t look up at her, only inch closer to Lusher.

Bada closes her eyes and swallows a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.” She whispers sincerely.

Your cries seem to slowly die down at her words, now becoming small sniffles.

“I’m ready to tell you everything if you’re willing to listen.”

You finally take your hands away from your face to look up at Lusher. She stares back at you and smiles, nodding kindly. You take in a deep breath, “Okay.”

Sand crunches below you, and the sound of ocean waves whipping against each granule soothes your nerves. The night is cold, which makes you regret wearing the beige, glittery dress you’d chosen. You clutch at your arms, feeling goosebumps rise from your skin.

Bada notices you shivering and takes off her black coat. “Here.” She whispers, draping it over your shoulders and rubbing her slim hands up and down your arms to warm you up.

You stare at Bada, hating how your heart leaps in your chest at her tender care. You want to stew in your anger and hurt, but the way she looks at you with so much warmth and regret makes you melt. You’re weak.

Bada, now in a simple black shirt and brown slacks steps back. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” You mumble, looking at the sand pooling under your feet.

Bada nods, breathing out deeply. “Okay.” She looks incredibly nervous in front of you, and you almost want to soothe her worries. “I’m not sure how to start this…” She trails off. “But I want you to know that I’m sorry.”

You look up from the sand to stare into Bada’s eyes.

“The things I said to you were disgusting lies.” She admits, shame encompassing her expression. “You are more to me than just a business deal. You have been from the start.”

In the background, the ocean waves begin to calm.

“I never told you this, but…” She shakes her head, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “the day that we met, I came to talk to your parents to break off the deal.”

Your eyes go wide, and a look of confusion grows on your expression.

“I’d been having second thoughts about our engagement.” She closes her eyes, remembering that day vividly. “I was going to tell them that I wanted to call it off, but then–” her smile turns soft. “You walked in.”

Suddenly, you no longer feel cold, the heat of Bada’s coat and confession making every part of your body burn.

“And you were so beautiful. Like nothing I’d ever seen. So beautiful, and so smart.” She opens her eyes, taking your hands into hers. “I knew then and there that I had to go along with the deal. That I had to make you mine.”

You squeeze Bada’s hands, tears beginning to flow into your eyes.

“But I was terrified. I was so terrified of my feelings.” She starts to tear up as well. “If I were to let you fall in love with me, I would be putting your life at risk. I told myself I was being selfish.”

You want to cut in and deny everything that she says, but you let her talk.

“When my mother died…” Bada chokes on her words–she has to close her eyes and steady her breathing to continue. “She stepped in front of a bullet for me.”

The tears you’d been trying to hold back release, your heart aching in your chest in sympathy for your fiancée.

“Her bodyguard betrayed us... he was aiming to kill me but–” She takes another deep breath. “My mother took the shot.”

“Oh, Bada…” You whisper, throwing your arms around her to pull her into a hug.

Bada breaks down in the comfort of your arms, sobbing violently, and finally releasing 13 years worth of guilt. You hold onto her the entire time, rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

"I should've been the one to die that day," she cries. "My parents could have had another child—a son. Someone they could be proud to pass on the business to."

“Bada Lee, you are the most hardworking woman I’ve ever met.” You insist. “Your parents would be so proud of what you’ve made of their business.”

Bada tightens her hold on your waist. “I’m sorry.” She slowly unravels herself from you, wiping her tears as she steels herself. “There’s nothing I want more in this world than to wake up next to you every morning. I want to stay by your side for what little time we may have together.”

You bite your lip, trying to stop your sobs from passing beyond your lips.

Bada takes your hand and suddenly starts walking toward a faint light in the distance of the beach. You give her a confused look but follow her anyway until you finally see what she’s bringing you toward.

Rose petals are scattered on the beach sand to create a makeshift walkway, lanterns with burning candles lighting up the sides of it while a small arch in the shape of a heart lies beyond the petals.

You instantly clasp your hands over your mouth, breathing out in shock and awe, turning to face Bada who only smiles at you. She takes both of your hands once again, then slowly starts to lower herself onto the sand, taking one knee in front of you.

“When I look at you, I see my future in your eyes. I know who I am with you.” She places a kiss on your knuckles. “I am selfish. I am a woman who will devote her every waking moment to caring and protecting you.”

She slips her hand into the pocket of her brown slacks and pulls out a black box. You start to openly sob when she opens it and reveals a beautiful engagement ring.

“So, will you allow me to be a selfish woman, and love you until the end of my days?”

“Yes!”

A mess of kisses and wandering hands, you and Bada trail into her private beach house. It’s small but cozy and intimate, exactly what you two need.

Bada guides you in the direction of the master bedroom, never separating from your soft lips. She huffs, her hot breaths caressing your skin as she opens the door and walks toward the bed. It’s decorated in even more rose petals that you crush when she lays you down, and hovers on top of you.

“I’ve said some terrible things to you today,” Bada whispers. “So let me make it up to you.” She places her hand over your right breast, squeezing it and making you moan. “Will you let me?” She asks. “Will you let me…make love to you?”

“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, Bada.”

Bada smiles, closing her eyes in bliss at the way you alluringly say her name. “I love your voice.” She trails her slim fingers down your body before bringing them up again, and carefully helping you peel your shining dress off your body.

You’re left in your panties and your bra, heaving, passionate breaths making your chest rise and fall in quick succession. Bada stares at your breasts unabashedly before dragging her eyes over every inch of your body. She looks in complete and utter awe, taking in a sharp breath.

“I love your body.” She continues, lowering her hands to your panties, slowly pushing them aside. She finds your pussy glistening with slick, her eyes drinking in the sight with fiery irises. Bada parts your lips, watching carefully as strings of wetness cling to them, revealing your pearly, throbbing clit.

As if in a trance, she brings her thumb up to it, rubbing it up and down with varying degrees of pressure, studying how you cry out in pleasure at each motion.

“Do you like that?” She whispers, staring to trial kisses on your neck and breasts.

“Yes.” You immediately respond, losing yourself in the simple pleasure your faincée gives you. All the months of being untouched have made you so sensitive–so, so sensitive to the point that you’re releasing ridiculous amounts of slick onto Bada’s fingers.

“I want to feel you,” Bada confesses, moving her fingers away from your clit and to your hole. She traces her finger around it before gently inserting one in, your pussy sucking her in without any complaint. “Ah,” she breathes, closing her eyes. “You’re so warm.”

You let out a strangled moan at her words, begging her to continue.

She does as you ask, pushing her finger in deep before dragging it out–again and again she does this, slowly building up her pace until she’s driving her finger into you at an incredible speed. “You’re so warm, honey. So wet.” She repeats, stars in her eyes as she moves to kiss you passionately, all tongue and spit.

“More, please.” You ask again.

“Of course.” She whispers against your lips. Bada takes another finger and inserts it into you, the almost painful but pleasurable stretch makes you cry out, grabbing her unoccupied hand to squeeze it. “There you go.” She says fondly. “Make as much noise as you want to, honey. It’s just us.”

So you let yourself go, practically moaning like a porn star as Bada pounds her fingers into you, your slick sloshing against them and pruning up her digits. She doesn’t seem to care at all, instead changing their position to crook them upwards, dragging them along your walls, indulging you in sexual gratification like you’ve never felt before.

“I want you to cum all over my fingers.” She breathes, the words so heavy you can barely make them out. “Cover me in your juices. Do it.”

Driving her point, Bada lowers her face to your pussy, licking her long tongue against your clit. She flicks it, then takes it into her mouth, swirling her tongue against it.

You immediately cry out in pleasure, your mouth gaping open and eyes closing shut as your fiancée smirks against your clit. She continues her pace, pistoning her fingers in and out of you until she brushes your sweet spot–

“Oh my god!” You scream, your eyes almost rolling back in sheer bliss. “Right there, right there!”

Bada opens her eyes–her lids heavy as makes eye contact with you. “Right here?” She pushes her finger in once again, crooking it up perfectly so that it hits your g-spot perfectly. “Oh yeah, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” She mutters to herself, a proud smile finding her lips.

That, coupled with one long, hard suck and swirl from her tongue on your clit makes your eyes roll back, insurmountable pleasure flowing through you as you cum.

“Soak me.” Bada guides you through it, holding onto your hand tightly to ground you as you embark on a world of bliss, her fingers and mouth never slowing down until you start to whine. 

“Please–” you choke out, your pussy sensitive from her touch.

Your fiancée slows her fingers and pops her mouth off your pussy, licking her lips before she fully pulls out her digits from inside of you. When she does, a gush of cum follows in her wake, trailing down and falling onto the linen sheets. She smiles at the sight, lifting her fingers to her mouth and sucking on your juices.

“I love the way you taste.” She separates her fingers to show you the beads of her spit and your slick combined into one debauched substance.

You sit up from bed, crawling over to her with a mischievous look. You grab her hand and bring it up to your lips, sucking on her fingers gently, moving your head up and down in a sensual motion.

“Fuck.” Bada watches you in awe, her cunt pulsing against her boxers and layers of clothes. “How are you so effortlessly alluring?”

You look up at your fiancée, dragging her fingers out of your mouth. “Bada…”

“Yes?” She asks, using her clean hand to brush her thumb over your cheek lovingly.

“Can I touch you too?” You drag your hand down Bada’s chest, stopping just before the waistband of her slacks.

Bada smiles and nods, grabbing your hand and beginning to take off her black shirt. She pulls it off of her body easily, letting it fall to the floor as her hand moves to remove her sports bra as well. You take the time to also remove your bra, now fully exposed while Bada takes off her slacks.

You try your hardest not to stare at her, but with every movement she does, her lean abs move, and her muscled arms strain. Bada Lee has an amazing body, and you can’t help but gape.

Your fiancée, unaware of your stare finally strips herself of her boxers–which she notes are wet with slick–and moves back onto the bed.

“You’re so pretty.” You whisper to her bashfully, moving your fingers up and down her abs.

The action makes Bada release a heavy breath from her nose, your feather-light touch making her abdominals stretch. “Thank you.” She smiles, leaning in to place a warm sweet kiss on your lips. 

You break away after a moment, leaning your head down and motioning for Bada to lay back. She does so immediately, encouraging you to do as you please with a hand on the back of your head. 

You slowly lower your head so you’re face-to-face with Bada’s cunt. You notice a few beads of wetness fall from her folds, making you smile proudly. She’s just as riled up as you.

Without a second thought, you part her lips like she had yours and place your hot mouth on her cunt, making her hiss. She throws her head back, once again her abs stretching as her long hair falls against her face. “Ah, fuck.”

You move your tongue inside of her, eyes going doe when she stares down at you with burning irises, so full of passion and heat that you unconsciously rub your thighs together, slick building between your legs again.

“You’re so good at that, baby.” Bada moans, grabbing your hair with enough force so that she can move you while still keeping her grip painless. She has to hold herself back–remember that this is about making love not fucking. Her full strength could truly hurt you. “Fuck yeah.” She curses, moving your head up and down as she uses you to pleasure herself.

You slip into a submissive role, allowing Bada to move and use you in any way, happy to bring her the same amount of ecstasy that she’d given you. You move your tongue in and out of her hot, gummy walls, slick running down your chin and the column of your throat until it dribbles in between the valley of your breasts.

Bada watches every movement and groans loudly, turned on out of her mind. She moves your head up and down faster, feeling every drag of your tongue and the pressure of your nose against her clit.

She’s so close, right there–

“Wait–” She breathes, letting go of your head. “Wait.”

You instantly shoot up, worried you’ve done something wrong. “Wha–”

Bada flips your position so you’re below her again. She takes your leg and crooks it against her hip, placing her cunt just inches away from your pussy. “I want to cum with you.” She heaves.

You stare up at your fiancée, your heart swelling in your chest to the point you’re worried it’ll burst. You grab her unoccupied hand and nod, smiling sweetly at her.

She smiles back, running her thumb over the engagement ring resting on your ring finger. She places a kiss on it before she uses her strength to lift herself up, and slowly lower her pussy against yours. She lets out another kiss, her cunt still sensitive from her almost release just minutes prior.

She starts out slow, rubbing up and down and positioning herself so that her lips meet the parting of yours. She encourages you to move with her, using her grip on your thigh to help you gain a rhythm in rubbing yourself against her.

You’re both so wet that loud squelching noises fill the air, your skin parting with strings of juices touching each other’s skin lewdly. Bada then starts to speed up her pace, rubbing up against your pussy as she sighs blissfully. She drags her hand up to your breast, grabs your nipple between her fingers, and starts to rub.

You let out a small moan which makes your fiancée twist your nipple with a bit more force, and then angle down enough so that she can flick her tongue against it. She takes your breast into her mouth, sucking rather harshly to pull out a louder moan from your parted lips.

She pops off your breast to smirk, pushing both of them together. “I love your tits.” She spits on them, then flattens her tongue and drags it across your nipples.

“Bada…” You trail off, tears of pleasure falling from your eyes.

“I know baby,” she mutters, her voice hitching when she angles her hips down at the perfect spot and applies just the perfect amount of pressure–she does it again. A mix of her groan and your cry ringing in the air. She slaps her pussy against your own, the shock of bliss shoots up her spine, and makes her curse. “Fuck, cum with me.” She closes her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure. “Fucking cum with me, honey. Let go and give me your all. I want it.”

So you give her what she wants.

Both you and Bada cum seconds later, both of your eyes closed tight in ecstasy as your pussies still rub against each other’s, riding out the high until you no longer can.

Your fiancée is the first to pull away, gently letting go of your thigh and stretching it onto the bed. Exhausted, she flops beside you, breathing heavily.

“How do you feel?” She checks up on you, her eyes finding yours in an instant.

“So good.” You admit with a smile.

Bada grins back at you, scooting closer to you until her body is pressed against your side. She flips you around so that you’re facing her as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Hi.” She mumbles sweetly.

“Hi.” You mumble back, holding back a giggle.

Both of your bodies are hot and shining with sweat, but neither of you cares. You stay tangled together, simply staring into each other’s eyes.

This time when you look into her irises, there’s no storm brewing–no icey wall keeping you separated from her. Just her pretty, dark brown irises. This is the woman you’d fallen in love with.

Your fiancée’s eyes say, “I know who I am.”

“I’m glad,” yours say back.

Bada leans forward, rubbing her nose against yours in a sweet gesture. Then she moves to place her lips inches away from your ear, whispering, “I love you.”

❝ the pain of grief is just as much a part of life as the joy of love; it is, perhaps, the price we pay for love, the cost of commitment. ❞

taglist:

@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @cephox, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight @badasoneandonly, @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement, @4bada, @seungxstar, @urlovebot, @neuftaeng, @hyunsllvr, @aixicl, @itzmy

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want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it, and i'll add you!

[amyrahrose]

"Like this Baby?"

“Toji, fuck please baby. I need you.” I whine out as I grind my clothed pussy against his muscled thigh. 

He knows what he’s doing to me. Enjoying the torment he’s putting me through. 

“What is it that my baby girl needs, huh? Use your words for me princess.” He huffs back to me. I catch the deviously smirk he’s trying to hide (even though I know he wants me to see it.)

“You sick fuck, you know exactly what the fuck it is I need.” I bark at him through gritted teeth. Like a bitch in heat, I ground myself further down on his thigh, trying desperately to get some kind of release from the throbbing coming from between my legs.

He throws his head back in a fit out laughter at my remark. Normally saying something like that to him would have gotten me in trouble, but he’s far more enjoying punishing me this way. 

This bastard. I think to myself. I whine and whimper, damn near thrashing myself against his strong frame. My skin feels like it’s burning with a fire only Toji could put out. 

“Please.” My voice coming out small. I look up at him with tears in my eyes. “Please Toji, touch me.” I whisper out. 

All of my bitching seems like it’s about to pay off in the way I see Toji’s playful smile transition into a soft, comforting one. His loose grip around my waist tightens and my pussy clenches in anticipation for what’s to come.

“Okay, okay baby. I’ll stop teasing.” He says as his big hands begin rubbing up and down my sides affectionately. I can only imagine how wide my smile is that’s adoring my face right now as I’m pretty much bouncing up and down on him in excitement. 

“Alright, calm down before I change my mind.” He chuckles at how quickly I stop and watch him, waiting for his next orders. 

“Stand up and strip.” He barks. I’m off of him within in seconds, breathing hard as I’m about to begin an assault on the clothes decorated on me. 

“Stop!” He grunts out. My hands fall to my sides as I look up to him in confusion. 

Eyebrows furrowed together, I begin to speak. “I thought you wa-” I’m unable to finish as he throws up one of his hands in front of me, effectively silencing me. 

“I want to enjoy this as much as I can. You want me to fuck you, and trust me, I’m going to fuck you baby, but I need to get something out of this deal too. Don’t you think?” He asks me while smirking. I watch him with lust-filled eyes as he man spreads on the couch, hand slowly palming his clothed dick. God how I wish that was my hand, or rather hands, wrapping around his big dick. Gripping and squeezing at the base as I run my tongue up along the thick veins that are decorated along it, until I reach up to his tip, licking around his angry red head, collecting  his pre-cum against my tongue..

“Hey!” Don’t you hear me fucking talking to you, you know I hate being ignored babygirl.” By the way Toji’s sending dagger my way, if looks could kill, I would be done for right now. I knew better than to not pay attention when he’s like this, but it’s so damn hard sometimes when he’s looking like sin itself in front of me. 

“I’m sorry daddy, it won’t happen again.” I breath out. I have stay on his good side if I want to have him dicking me down. 

“Good girl. Now as I was saying, you’re going to do exactly as I say. No sass mouthing either, not unless you want to make it worse for yourself.” 

If it was even possible, my clit throbs harder at his words. I try to mask the excitement on my face. He of all people should know that’s exactly how I want him to be with me, rough. 

“Now strip, slowly. I want to enjoy every minute of this.” He states. With shaky hands I slowly glide them up against my sides, making sure to take my time as he commands. We lock eyes, staring each other down until I slowly start to pull my tank top from over my head, leaving just my top half only in my lacy bra. I grope my breast, squeezing them and letting a soft moan escape my thick lips. 

I unclip the clasp and slowly slide the straps down, one by one until my breast are free. I begin playing with my nipples, twisting and pulling on them until they harden until my touch. 

“Fuck y/n keep touching yourself like that for daddy.” Toji groans while palming his dick harder. I know it’s taking every fiber of his being to say the hell with it and just start having his way with me, but I also know he enjoys seeing me like this, his little pet lapping up his every commands like the good slut he knows I am. 

 I continue tugging on my hard nipples, bringing one breast up to my mouth as I enclose around my nipple, eyes rolling to the back of my head, moaning as I suck on it and continue my assault on the other with my hand.

“You little slut, you get off on pleasing yourself in front of me?” Toji breaths out. I found his remark comically, as if he’s the one to talk. I notice the sweat accumulating on his forehead, the lust setting into his green eyes, and the rise and fall of his chest, taking in slow steady breathes as he’s now humping up into his hands. If anyone’s the slut, I’d say it was him. 

“I just love doing whatever it is that’ll please my daddy.” I reply back. By know I have my hands placed on the hem of my booty shorts, teasing him as I slowly slide them off my hips only to glide them back up. 

I do this a few times before I see the patience leaving his face as he glares at me. “Take the fucking shorts off now y/n.” He barks at me. With a devilish smile, I continue sliding them up and down. 

“I thought you want me to take my time taking my clothes off daddy, isn’t that what you wanted?” I ask innocently. I pat my self on the back internally as I see the twitch of annoyance on his scarred lip. 

God I want this man to ruin me, I just have to get him worked up some more. I thought to myself. 

“Y/n I swear to God if yo—,” “Okay, Okay daddy I’m sorry.” I cut him off. I begin sliding my shorts down until their a puddle around my ankles. I’m left in my lacy, pink thong, Toji’s favorite. Before I take them off, I decide to have a little fun of my own. He made me wait for it, so why can’t he? I tug at the front of my thongs until the print of my pussy is prominent, slightly visible from the patch of wetness that’s accumulated from all of my ministrations. I lick my lips as I see Toji’s breathing hitch, eyes glued to my womanhood. I tug once more, before I slide them to the side, thick wet pussy now on display. I run a manicured pointer and middle finger along my slit, gather up my juices before slowly making my way to my clit drawing small circles around it. Hissing, I apply more pressure, growing wetter at the sight of Toji watching me pleasure myself. 

“You like this daddy, you like getting off while I’m pleasing myself.” Tone lace with mocking. I know I have him right where I want him because he doesn’t give me a smart remark back, completely transfixed with the sight before him. 

“Now be a good daddy and take that dick out of your pants, hmm?” I tell him. Without hesitation, Toji quickly unbuckles his jeans, ready to slide his pants and underwear down. 

“Noo, slowly daddy, take your time. I want to enjoy this.” I throw a cheshire smile at him when he glares at me but does exactly as I say. After what feels like eternity, I’m finally met with the site of Toji’s dick, smacking with a pop against his stomach. Pre-cum gliding oh so sexy down his shaft. Licking my lips hungrily, I stop rubbing my clit and and finish kicking off my shorts from around my ankle. I get on hands and knees and crawl over to him, eyes never leaving his. I prop myself in between his legs glaring down his dick with such intensity, it twitches. 

“Please baby, touch it.” Toji whispers. I quickly whipped my head up at him, shocked. 

“What did you say?” I asked still in shock, surely I was hearing things, right? Toji, begging? The throb in the pussy must be ringing so loudly in my ears I wasn’t hearing correctly. 

“Y/n, please baby. Touch it, I need you.” He said loudly this time. I look up in his face and notice the wanting behind his piercing green eyes and his ragged breathing. 

Without a second thought, I lightly grab his dick and bring the tip closer to my lips.

“Like this baby?” I ask seductively before I’m circling my tongue over his tip, relishing in the way he moans and relaxes into my touch. I make quick work of sucking on his head, hollowing in my cheeks as my hands begin massaging his shaft. I watch him with low eyes, taking in his facial expressions. Head throw back, eyes closed shut while his lick his lips, pure ecstasy etched across his handsome face. I moan in pleasure at the sight before me causing him to groan and hump into my face. I pop off his head just to spit on it and gather it up in the rhythm of my hands, making it slippery. While I continue working him up with my hands, my lips lands on his balls, licking them before engulfing them in my mouth, sucking on them like my life depends on it. 

“Damn baby girl, keep doing just like that. Fucking whore, you love it when you got this dick in your mouth huh? I know you like being a slut, my slut.” Toji grunts out possessively. I grip is dick tightly and come off his balls.

“Only for daddy.” I reply before I dive into giving him the nastiest head ever. Sucking, slurping, deep throating until my nose is touching his pubic hair while I massage on his balls. Only coming up for air once, I feel my spit and his precum slide down my chin before going back in. By know, Toji has his hands in my box braids, gripping on it while guiding my head down on him aggressively causing me to choke around him.

“Take it, take every inch of this dick. You begged for it like a little bitch.” He tells me roughly. And I do, I let Toji face fuck me to kingdom come, all with tears running down my cheeks and throat on fire, but I don’t care. I’d rather be like this, damn near close to death than to not be able to please my man. 

“Look at me.” He orders. I force my eyes up to his. “When I cum, you’re gonna take in every last drop and you better not fucking waste it.” He smirks when I hum in response. 

 I brace myself for his orgasm, I know he’s close by the way his grip on my box braids tighten and the stuttering of his hips into my face.

“Fuck y/n I’m bouta nut.” He warns. I moan around him, pushing him over the edge. My eyes roll to the bed of my head as I feel him push me down further on his dick as his hot, thick cum shoots into my mouth. There’s so much of it I’m scared I’ll choke. His hips twitch into me, moaning so deep I feel my juices running down my thighs. He stills for a moment to catch his breath before he pulls from my mouth. 

He takes one hand and tap my cheek. “Open.” He orders, voice deep and raspy from his climax. I do as he say and open, showing him his cum sitting in my mouth. He bites his lips and hums. “Now swallow.” And like a puppet I follow his command, swallowing  before I open my mouth again to show him every last drop is gone, apart from the cum sticking to my tongue.

“Good girl.” He says as he rubs my cheek affectionately. I swear I heard my pussy meow at the praise. My arousal is through the roof, clit throbbing like a drum and juices flowing out me like a leaking faucet.I feel as though I’m about to combust if Toji doesn’t hurry and put his hands on me. As if reading my thoughts, He grabs me by my chin and tilt my head up to him. 

“Cmon stand up for me babygirl.” I practically leap up, waiting with anticipation for what’s to come. 

“Sit down.” He whispers in my ear. Listening to him I sit on the couch as I watch him switch positions with me. Roles reversed, I’m now sitting while Toji gets on his knees, positioning himself between my legs. I try to control my breathing as I watch him take his big hands and slide my thong off of me, a string of my juices breaking off from its connection to it and grab my inner thighs, opening me up wide. He licks his lips as he begin eyeing my pussy. The sight has me clenching around nothing, longing for his touch. 

He chuckles darkly. “Look at her, winking up at me. Such a slutty ass pussy you got on you y/n.” He cooes. He’s in a fit a laughter now when my pussy clenches again at his remark. 

“Daddy,” I whine, “Stop being mean and touch me.” I whisper out. 

He begins rubbing my thighs before he smirks. “Say please daddy.” He smiles wickedly at me. At this point I want to punch him in his face for his teasing, but I’m desperate. I’ll do anything, say anything, just to get my fill of him.

“Please daddy, slut me out.” I say, adding the extra to get him riled up. He groans before gripping my thighs and pushing me down on his face. We both moan when his tongue comes into contact with my clit. I’m a mess once he sucking and tugging on my bundle of nerves, I’m seeing stars. He alternates from tongue fucking me, to licking up the mix of his salvia and my juices and bringing it up to my clit before circling his tongue around it, flicking it. I thrash my head side to side, arching into his mouth. I slide one of my hands into his raven hair, gripping the hell out of it. 

“Daddy, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” I whimper out. The squelching and slurping sounds that’s filling the room is making me dizzy, and the feeling of Toji tongue sinking into me further has me hanging on by a thread. 

“Listen to me, you’re gonna cum all over daddy’s tongue y/n, I want to taste you all of me. You got that?” I moan and nod my head weakly. He continues his assault on my pussy, and when I feel Toji’s thick fingers at my entrancing, stretching me out and immediately curling inside to graze upon my spot, I explode.

“Daddy I’m cumming!” I scream as I clench around his fingers, going crazy as he continues to suck my clit and finger fuck me. 

“That’s it y/n. Cream all over daddy’s fingers for me.” The squelching noises from my pussy grows louder as Toji keeps finger fucking my through my orgasm. His repeated hits against my spot has me going over the edge as I scream again, pushing him out and squirting all over him. 

“Fuck y/n. Make a mess for daddy, I love it.” He groans as he takes the same two fingers he just finished fucking me with to press against my clit, rubbing back and forth, fast and hard, splashing my juices everyway. 

“It’s too much daddy, please!” I cry out. I try to grab onto his hand, but I’m too weak. He chuckles at my fail attempt as he keeps rubbing my clit.

“Nah baby, I gotta make sure I get out every drop. I don’t want nothing going to waste.” He says. After a few seconds, I’m pleading with him again to stop, my vison becoming blurring from the overstimulation. He takes the same two fingers from my clit, not before slowly swiping up my slit and collecting my cum on them, and places his fingers in his mouth. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he moans and he sucks his finger dry. My clit throbs at the sight. 

“You taste so good baby, I’m so proud of you.” He replies sweetly. I smile lazily and groan while trying to sit up. Exhaustion creeps up on me before I’m met with Toji’s large hands, pushing me back down. I look up, confused until I met his gaze and gasp in surprise. 

“Where you going baby girl, we’re not done yet. Didn’t I promise to fuck you?” He questions with a devilish smirk.

[amphitriteswife]

Vinny dating HC’s

🏍️ He’s a tsundere okay? He would be stand off-ish with you at first and assume your life is easy because you come from money. Doesn’t have to be the case ofcourse but he’s an asshole so he did assume it

🏍️ will probably ignore you. He’s not someone to reach out first so you probably have to push yourself and actually make an effort. It will feel one sided at first but if he feels that connection he will find himself thinking of you or wondering what you’re up to. He might actually try to find you or reach out first if you stop coming over

🏍️ DON’T call him pet names. He will feel embarrassed and will not do it back. Just call him Vinny or Vin. He’ll call you by your name too. If you do call him pet names and others hear it he will walk away embarrassed. Especially if Minu and Dom will start laughing at him.

🏍️ ‘babe what would you do if i was broke?’ ‘Leave you probably.’ ‘Wow what a shallow gold digger you are.’ ‘It was a joke.’ ‘No its not’ ‘yeah it is’ ‘you’re Vinny. You don’t make jokes.’ ‘Wow. You think so lowly of me?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘….’

🏍️ give him food and he’ll be indebted by you. No more eating ramen every night…he can finally eat a normal meal. Even if you tell him its the most normal thing in the world he’ll be so grateful. Worst thing is that he sees it as a date, so he’ll be extra flustered

🏍️ ‘hey can i ride on your bike?’ ‘No way. I need it for races. Besides you’ll damage it. Or worse you’ll fall and hurt yourself.’ ‘Come onnnnn. I’ll take you out to dinner?’ ‘Deal.’

🏍️ He’ll stop by your school to pick you up. Most of the time he’s either skipping his own school or working so he doesn’t mind coming to your school. If he finds out you go to the same school as Jay and Minu he’ll avoid them. He doesn’t want to be seen as a caring boyfriend

🏍️ if you’re close friends with Minu because of rich parents he’ll lose his shit. He can’t stand Minu so imagine how he would feel if he finds out you two are the best of buddies

🏍️ ‘have you ever realized that if your other eye was blue that you would look like a police siren?’ ‘How does your brain even function in such a way that you think of these thoughts?’ ‘I dunno.’ ‘Sigh’

🏍️ sometimes he gets super insecure. He won’t open up about it either but knowing him it’s easy to guess when that is. If he feels down he starts smoking and being more short than he usually is. He doesn’t want to get angry at you but he sometimes doesn’t realize that he yells at you. He would be too embarrassed to apologize too.

🏍️ he either doesn’t sleep or sleeps a lot. If he smells food he’ll wake up and eat and then sleep again. If you take him to your luxurious house he’ll sleep in your bed and insist on going to your place.

🏍️ he feels vulnerable and embarrassed when he’s with you most of the time. He’s supposed to be mysterious not a hopeless romantic. He thinks the fact you have this effect on him is strange and doesn’t want to talk about it unless necessary. He lost mysterious aura points when he got with you

🏍️ he doesn’t talk a lot and can be very harsh. Also a hot headed temper. So if you’re a yapper he either listens to you or gets annoyed. He would lash out at you. He hopes. But he does think that it balances the two of you out.

🏍️ ‘what would you do if i died like right now.’ ‘…uhm…what?’ ‘Like what if some crackhead shanks me.’ ‘Well i wouldn’t let that happen, but why you asking.’ ‘What if like. A meteorite fell on me.’ ‘I don’t think the chances of that are happening are very high.’ ‘I’ll blame you to be honest’ ‘???’

That’s all i could think about (i’m on chapter 250) 😔🙏

[augustvandyne]

Lucy chen x reader.

Lucy and reader are sent undercover as a couple. This brings up hidden feelings from both women, and Lucy shows up to r's apartment a couple of nights later, and confessions are made. (Reader is Angela's partner/best friend. R is a detective.)

lucy is actually my girlfriend and current obsession right now

this is really sucky, i apologize.

old feelings

It’s late, your head hurts, and you’re hungry, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to ignoring Angela’s phone call.

She normally never calls at night unless it’s super important. Whether it’s about work or her person life with the kids and/or Wesley.

“This better be real important Ang,” You hiss in pain when your head starts pounding even more than it already was. “And there better be a reward of Ibuprofen at the end of it.”

Angela chuckles tensely, “I’ll have Ibuprofen waiting here for you when you get to the station.”

You sigh, but stand nonetheless. You had a feeling something had happened after you left. But it may have also had to do with you just abruptly leaving without saying goodbye to Angela.

“There better be,” You scrunch up your face. “I ran out last night or I would have already taken some.”

“Alright, well, get here. There’s an undercover operation in the works, and they need you,” You can hear the nervousness in Angela’s voice.

“What’s wrong?” You swallow, the nervousness from Angela making its way to you.

“I’ll tell you when you get here,” Angela is shaking her head.

“Okay,” You hang up the phone and grab your keys, trying your best to ignore the pulsing in your head as you slam the apartment door and make your way out to your car.

You make sure to turn the volume of the radio the whole way down once you start the engine.

You breathe out a gust of air, making your way back to the station as fast as possible.

Angela held her promise, as she is standing in the lobby of the station as soon as you get there with a bottle of medication and a bottle of water.

“Talk to me,” You throw the pills in your mouth, drinking almost the whole bottle of water along with it.

“It shouldn’t be me,” You turn to see the pain in Angela’s eyes and you realize it has something to do with Angela’s personal life. Meaning her husband or kids.

“Oh Ang,” You pull her into her for a quick hug before the two of you speed to the conference room.

You see Wade, Nyla, Tim and Lucy all waiting there. Similar expressions in their faces.

“Someone better start talking,” You glance at each other them. Your gaze lingering on Lucy’s for longer than necessary.

“It’s Wesley,” Nyla breaks the silence, sparing a small look in Angela’s direction.

Your heart drops to the floor, “I had a feeling.”

“So let’s stop sitting around sulking about it and come up with a plan.”

“Officer Bradford,” Grey warns. “We have a plan—“

“We have an outline,” He corrects.

“Officer Bradford,” You shake your head, making your way to the empty seat beside Lucy. “Like you said, let’s stop wasting time. Share the outline with me.”

“As far as we know, Wesley Evers has been taken by Elijah Stone and his men.”

You feel Lucy stiffen beside you, and you assume it has to do with Elijah.

You had your own history with Elijah. Not like he had tried to come after you before, because he knows better than to mess with a cop straight on, but the station had been following Elijah for a long while now. And if you could catch him, you would do whatever it takes.

“..so there will be an undercover operation,” Nyla is talking now. You must’ve tuned Grey out while you were thinking. “For obvious reasons, we can’t have Angela go under. And we know I can’t, because I can’t risk my shared custody with my daughter again.”

“Is— is that why I’m here?” Lucy asks excitedly, sitting up in her seat.

“Precisely,” Grey tries to hold back a small smile.

“That’s also why I’m here,” You conclude.

“You catch on quick,” Tim remarks sarcastically.

You clench your jaw, and down the rest of your water.

“We think it would be better if we had people on the inside. People Wesley recognizes,” Nyla nods, looking at Wade so he could finish.

“Wesley will recognize you, and neither of you have went head on with Elijah or his men.. so you are our two viable options,” Grey nods, holding his hands in front of his waist.

“Separately? Or..” Lucy asks, and you look at her. She’s so adorable. So naive.

“Together, Chen,” Tim narrows his eyes. “Like as a couple.”

“Okay, seriously what’s up your ass?” You hollow your cheeks, having about enough of this man’s attitude.

“Detective—“

“No, you have no right to be disrespectful to anyone, let alone Officer Chen, who has been nothing but respectful since I’ve gotten here. So apologize,” You raise your brows when Tim just stands there. “Now.”

“I’m sorry, Chen,” Tim says, internally rolling his eyes.

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know,” You say, just barely missing the blush on her face.

Within the next forty-eight hours, the two of you are off on a plane, one of Aaron’s planes, to be specific.

They’d set up a small townhouse near where they suspected Wesley was being held.

You could feel the anxiety radiating off Lucy, but she never once said anything. You admired her strength through this all.

You and Lucy had a past, if that’s what you’d call it.

You trained her for a while there when Tim was out after being shot, and you’d shared moments, to say the least.

If you asked Angela, she probably would’ve told you that the two of you almost made out at one point, but you didn’t think that. Something about get together at the bar one night, and some longing stares.. you didn’t really know.

But you probably would have asked her out, had you not been in her line of work for the longest time.

You followed most of the rules - including the very strict and unnecessary dating policy.

Then by the time you made it to be up for the detectives exam, the both of you had forgotten about your longing glances and schoolgirl crushes.

Until now.

Lucy is sitting on the edge of the bed now, tapping her fingertips on her lower thighs as a nervous tic. She bites her lip, probably hard enough to draw blood. That was something you remember about her.

“Are you okay, Lucy?” You tilt your head, moving to sit beside her on the bed.

“Yeah,” She shrugs. “This is kind of my first real operation, and I know if I mess up, Angela will have my head.”

“I won’t let her,” You say after a beat of silence.

“Why would you care?” Lucy’s brows furrow, not a hint of anger in her voice. Only curiosity.

“Do you mind if I shower first? I still kind of have a headache..” You stand, not looking her in the eye any longer.

“Oh, I brought some medicine, if you’d want,” Lucy smiles politely.

“I’ll see how I feel after,” You clear your throat and grab whatever clothes are on top for after. “But, thank you.”

You remember that look in Lucy’s eye. You’ve seen it before. All that time ago when you were training her. You had deja vu.

Lucy suggested the two of you went out for something to eat, make yourself seen.

She was smart for that, because not only had you picked a place Elijah’s presence was well known in, but you’d also laid eyes on Wesley for the first time in a few days.

It was a local bar, but it was more on the fancier side, if that makes sense. It served food other than anything that is made in the same grease, so in your opinion, that was fancy all on its own. But Lucy proceeded to tell you all about it.

Which was why you got deja vu in the first place.

She was spinning facts at you, and you were listening intently, laughing here and there to try and gain Wesley’s attention.

You’d gotten it, and he knew you were there. You and him shared a nod.

The glint in her eye is still there when she stops talking after she realizes you’re just watching her.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Elijah glance towards the two of you.

You give her a wide smile, grabbing her hand gently.

You see the light tint of blush on her cheeks, and you try to narrow your eyes so she understands, but she’s more focused on your touch.

You pull her hand to yours lips to cover your mouth, “He’s watching.”

She snaps out of in, and falls into character. She’s leaning on the table, her chin resting on her knuckles of her free hand.

“I love you, you know?” Lucy gives a love struck smile.

“You’ve never said that aloud efore,” A smile takes over your features.

“I know..” She looks down. “But I’ve been thinking it for a while. Ever since.. you know.”

“No, I don’t,” You have the feeling she’s going to try to share her feelings, for real. So you let her.

“When my mother came over the last time. When she blamed me for being with a woman.”

“Yes,” You say. You remember hearing about it through the grapevine, but it wasn’t you in this scenario, it was someone else. That made you feel an almost.. jealous feeling. “I wanted to tell you that night too, but.. you were having so many feelings.”

“And I appreciate you for that,” Lucy leans forward slightly.

You don’t even care if Elijah is watching anymore, because when Lucy leans forward a fraction of an inch, all you’re focused on are her soft and inviting lips.

You liked playing pretend with Lucy. It felt amazing, like maybe you should have asked her out when you wanted to back then.

But it was time to go home now, after a successful rescue mission for Wesley. And you were sort of upset about it.

You were happy to be back home in your own bed after almost two months, but you were kind of missing Lucy and yours’ dinner dates right now.

You’re bingeing an episode of Top Chef when you hear a knock on your door.

Swinging the door open, you see Lucy. She has an oversized sweater on, and she’s playing with the sleeve.

“Lucy?” You frown. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to tell you something,” She comes in the door without even being invited in.

“Could it wait—“

“No,” Lucy cuts you off. “It can’t. Or I’ll talk myself out of telling you. Again. I need to do it now or I may never do it at all.”

You were intrigued now, so you grab Lucy by the sleeve and pull her towards you, leading the both of you to your couch.

“What’s wrong Lucy?” Your brows are furrowed.

“Well..” You watch as Lucy tries to decide how to say when she needs to get out. “It’s just.. mm.”

“Spit it out, Luce,” You chuckle lightly, shaking your head.

“Ihavefeelingsforyou,” She says it so fast you almost don’t even hear what she said.

A look flashes across her face at your reaction, and from your point of view, it looks like regret.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy swallows nervously. “I’ll.. um, I’m just— I’ll go.”

“No,” You say instantly, grabbing her arm to pull her back onto the couch. “I’m just surprised because, well.. I know when I was training you - when Tim was out - that I also shared feelings for you. Angela even saw something, which should tell you something all in itself. But anyway, these past weeks, the feelings had returned and.. I wouldn’t be opposed to a real date.”

Lucy lets out a long and relieved sigh, “Oh, thank god. Because I almost had a heart attack. And, also, I used to have feelings for you too.. why didn’t you just ask me out.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “I was in your line of duty. And I wasn’t ready to move from patrol yet.”

A look flashes in Lucy’s eyes as she turns her head to look at the television.

“Oo! Top Chef?” Lucy’s eyes light up. “We’re definitely going on a date.”

Lucy moves a little closer to you, and leans her head on your shoulder.

You both fall asleep like that.

[constellationguy]

Another perspective

Episode four

"Text: regular talking

'Text': regular thinking

"Text": Saiki talking telepathically

'Text': Saiki thinking

ATTENTION! You might want to rewatch episode four of The Disastrous Life of Saiki K before reading to fully understand the events.

Previous episode

Summary: Episode 4 in L/N Y/N's perspective.

“To Mister Kusuo Saiki,

I am someone who knows you have psychic powers, but don’t worry. I intend to tell no one about you. I am writing this letter because I want to tell you that I am not your enemy and that I want to be your apprentice. To tell you the truth I also have unique abilities, it is because of those abilities that I came to know about you master.” -Y/N read to Saiki

“He’s already calling me master?” Saiki said confused. “Odd right?” Y/N agreed.

“I’ll come to greet you in person sometime soon.

-sincerely your faithful servant.”

“He’s gone from apprentice to servant. But the real news is there is another psychic out there.”

“I wonder what they’re like,” Y/N mused.

“I should figure out what he’s like before he shows up.” Saiki was clearly worried about this. “Let’s just stop for a moment, I’m sure he’s not too bad Kusuo. How about I go get some coffee jelly and all will be right again, how does that sound?” Y/N said trying to distract Saiki.

“Well sure. But I’m still going to use psychometry to figure this guy out first.” “Fine fine. I’ll be right back-” Y/N started to walk down the stairs but was interrupted by the door bell.

“Wow! Your house is really normal!” The new guy spoke to Saiki.

“This is too soon” both Saiki and Y/N thought.

“Ah sorry. Where are my mannors? My name is Reita Toritsuka. And it’s a pleasure to meet you master!”

‘Am I just gonna be ignored again, guess his manners don’t go very far.’ Y/N thought less than impressed.

“Let’s see, I’m 16 years old… Ah! But you know all that because you can read my mind.” Toritsuka continued.

“Anyway, feels like I know you! I’ve heard so much about you from people! Well from dead people, did I forget to mention that part.” He said bashfuly.

“See! I told you ghosts were real!” Y/N hit Saiki lightly as they teased.

“You can’t see spirits master?” Toritsuka asked.

“Not unless you’re one,” Saiki replied coldly.

“Oh good for you. I see about 15 right now.”

“Really? That sounds like a lot. What, are they having a party?”

“Nothing draws a crowd of spirits like a psychic. Their curious! There’s an old lady hanging out up in that corner there. And right next to you is a guy bouncing his bare butt. But forget about that! The reason I’m here is I want to be your apprentice!”

“Wait he’s doing what with his butt now?”

“Ya I feel weirded out, I’m leaving,” Y/N said walking around Toritsuka on the floor. ‘Oh no you’re not.’ Saiki communicated to Y/N before his bedroom door slammed on its own. Y/N just excepted their fate and started to lean on the side of Saiki’s chair.

“Don’t worry it’s totally harmless,” Toritsuka reassured. “Harms my peace of mind.”

“Oh looks like he’s gone now,” ‘Nope he’s rubbing his butt on his face’ Since Saiki made it so they could also hear Toritsuka’s thoughts, they didn’t know whether to snort at Saiki’s misfortune or move away from him.

“You know I hear your thoughts right?” “I’m sorry but I don’t really have any control over these guys,” Toritsuka admitted.

“You’re a psychic medium, can’t you just “begone!” or something?” Saiki replied unimpressed. “That, or can’t you just tell them to act respectfully is someone else’s home?” Y/N asked equally unimpressed.

“Ya well my abilities are pretty much limited to seeing ghosts. And talking to them.”

‘Ya! And why don’t you talk to them now?! Is he really that unconvincing?’ Y/N thought annoyed at being continuously ignored.

“I’ve had this gift since birth, when I was born into a temple.”

‘From birth? We’re the same in that manner’ Saiki thought.

“When I was little, I couldn’t tell the difference between people and ghosts. Then my beloved grandma told be, spirits can’t take on physical forms so that’s a good way to identify them. I was so relieved, I went to give her a hug, and that’s when I discovered… grandma was a ghost.”

“That’s dark,” Saiki replied.

“Ya, I was pretty bummed, but then grandpa came to cheer me up, except he was a ghost too. After that I started hugging people at random. A lot of people thought I was being creepy and gross, but really I-I was just trying to make sure they were alive.”

“That sketchy grin says otherwise,” “Agreed” Y/N said.

“When it comes to powers I really drew the short end of the stick, it’s more of a burden than a gift with no upsides.”

“That’s not true. By communicating with the dead, think of all the people you’d could bring closure to.” Saiki said, trying to be helpful.

“Ya but is there any way I can get rich off of it?” Toritsuka asked a little vindicated.

“Oh dear” “Ah, Gotcha.” Y/N and Saiki replied.

“When I heard about you from my ghost friends, I knew I had to meet you. He said there was a guy with all kinds of powers like telepathy, x-ray vision, teleportation, clairvoyance, and psychokinesis.”

“But you still cared more about the lady’s bath didn’t you,” Saiki frowned looking back on Toritsuka’s memory.

“Please Saiki, make me your apprentice and teach me your me how to do all of your tricks, I’m begging you!”

“Even if I could teach you these abilities, you’d just use them to do gross stuff right?”

“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you because I respect you and also because you can read my mind and would know that I was lying. To be honest, I mostly just want to see through girl’s clothes and predict lottery numbers. Tell me is that so wrong?!”

“That was too honest,” “I mean maybe but I kinda respect that,” Y/N thought allowed, still a bit grossed out.

“I think clairvoyance could help me with peeping too. Plus I want to lift girl’s skirts with psychokinesis and teleportation…..” Toritsuka’s words faded out ask Saiki started to talk to Y/N

‘But these powers don’t work how they think. People’s voices flood into your head constantly. You see through things too well and can’t touch anything without gloves on.’

“You have no idea how hard it is. Being a psychic is suffering.” Saiki stated harshly.

“Uh! Guess I should be going now!”

“Don’t tell anyone about this okay?”

“But can I come and see you again?”

“Just get out of here alread-” Saiki paused while grabbing Toritsuka, his face then fell in shock.

“Uh master? Master? Is something wrong?”

“Well, I guess we’re both suffering.”

After Toritsuka left Saiki had to ask Y/N a question.

“Can I sleep over at your house tonight?,” Saiki asked still shaken up.

“Sure, whatever you want. I don’t mind preparing dinner for another person, let’s go.” Y/N replied placing a comforting hand on Saiki’s back.

—————————————————————————

“Did you hear about the cool new transfer student from the class next door?” “Really?”

“Oo could you tell me about your guardian spirit is like?” “She looks like a noblewoman. And she’s stunningly beautiful, just like you are,” “oh stop it!” “Do me next!”

“Uh, Master!” Toritsuka lifted his head up at the noise and saw Saiki at the door.

‘Could this be anymore cliché?’ Saiki thought annoyed. ‘I hope not,’ Y/N replied. Saiki then grabbed Toritsuka and brought him to the bathroom.

“Hey. Change schools.” Saiki said harshly.

“Hold on a sec! Chill out. Why are you so upset? Didn’t I tell you I’ll be transferring to your school?” Toritsuka sounded scared.

“No.”

“I assumed you’d know, with you being a psychic,”

“Wrong.”

“Oh I get it. Are you worried I’m gonna tell people about your powers master?”

“First, quit calling me master.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

CRASH. Then Y/N could hear the toilet flushing.

‘Don’t worry, I could barely hear you from beyond the door,’ Y/N thought while walking beside Saiki ‘Good.’ Saiki replied.

“I feel like a kid who just got beaten up by the school bully on his first day. You know I don’t get why you’d rather hide your powers. If you showed off what you can do you’d get so much attention.”

“Ya that’s where it goes wrong, Kusuo gets enough of dealing with people just from me.” Y/N commented.

“I guess it’s kinda creepy to know someone’s peaking into your brain. Wait hold on. Forget brains, you can peak at other body parts too right? Wow. So that means you can see all the girls naked anytime that you want. Go my god! Oh?” Toritsuka then made a shocked blushing face as Teruhashi passed by.

“Wow. Who’s that beautiful angel that just glided past us?”

“That’s Teruhashi. She just walked by you for no reason whatsoever. You should thank her.” Saiki said a little amused.

“Did you see all the nooks and crannies on her body?! Come on give me some details here!”

“Please don’t be weird.” “Gross, man” Y/N and Saiki replied.

“Look there he is!” A group of girls then surrounded Toritsuka.

“You see guardian spirits right?” “Tell me about mine!” “Well Saiki, I guess just can make do with this.”

“Ladies ladies, I’ll get to all of you! One at a time!”

“Hey, so what is a guardian spirit?”

“Just like it sounds, a spirit that always watches over and protects you.”

“Cool! So can you tell me who mine is?”

“Your spirit, is a samurai! Who looks like he can really keep you safe.” “Wow!”

“Yours is a fancy lady from Europe or somewhere else with lots of blond people.” “Really?”

“Me next! Do me!” “Yours is, ah! Um, he’s like a bard maybe? Could be from France.” Toritsuka couldn’t hide his off put face. “Oh my!” “He might be in his mid-twenties. Has long hair, and he’s really handsome.” He was clearly terrible at lying.

“Hey! Tell me about mine” “ya, me too,” “no me first!” A group of boys asked Toritsuka.

“Alright ladies, who else wants to talk to me?”

“Hey what about us?!” Y/N doesn’t blame the guys for being curious, they were curious about theirs too but didn’t really want it ask.

“Uh let’s see now. Old dude, old hag, old hag, really old hag. Now yours is!”

“At least pretend to care!” Takahashi exclaimed.

“Ah!” “Have him check yours Hairo.” “No, I don’t have to.” “Oh man, your guardian spirit’s incredible. He’s an intensely passionate man. He plays tennis. He’s got boundless energy! I think that maybe his name is!”

“He’s not dead yet.” Saiki interjected.

“Guardian spirit? Sounds dumb. But still. Supposed it’d be rude not to hear you out. So tell me about mine or whatever, don’t care.”

‘He totally cares.’

“Your guardian spirit… oh wow, it’s kind of abnormal.”

‘Huh?! What does that mean? Is it some sort of demon? Or monster? Or dark spirit?’ “So what is it not that I care-”

“A chihuahua.” Toritsuka said bluntly.

“Chihuahua?! How dare he insult me like that! This guy’s a fraud!”

“Hey now what’s going on here a festival?”

“Now here’s someone abnormal.”

“New guy says he can see guardian spirits, but he lies!” Kaido said, still hurt.

“Oh cool! What’s that?”

“Now now, no pushing. Just wait your turn.”

“Hey! What’s my guardian spirit?”

‘Nendo’s guardian? Now that I’m curious about’ ‘same here’ Y/N thought.

“Okay, let’s see. Your is a politician” “what really?”

“Oh denied,” Saiki said and Y/N chuckled.

“Gotta say, I’m really happy I transferred to this school.” “Hey what’s my guardian spirit?” “I can already tell that I’m gonna have an awesome time here.” “What’s my guardian spirit?”

“Say Saiki, wanna hear about your guardian spirit Saiki?” “What’s my guardian spirit?”

“Me? I couldn’t care less, but tell him what his is because he’s getting really annoying.” “What’s my guardian spirit?” Nendo continued to whisper ask.

“AH JUST SHUT UP! I’VE TOLD YOU NOT TO FOLLOW ME AROUND EVERYWHERE, I HATE YOU!”

“Woah, what got into you?” Toritsuka then suddenly hit Nendo with his bag. Perplexed when it hit Nendo, he grabbed his face.

“WHAT YOUR NOT A GHOST?!”

“HAHHAHAHAHHA” Y/N burst out laughing, clutching their sides at Toritsuka’s amazement.

“You really didn’t know?”

“But all this time he’s bene following us, you’ve never once acknowledged his presence, I thought you couldn’t see him!!!”

“Hey what was that all about?!”

“No way! ITS TRUE I SEE AN OLD HAG BEHIND HIM!”

“So it’s true, he really can’t tell the difference between the living and the dead. Psychic mediums sure have it rough,” Saiki commented.

“Hey Saiki theirs something I’ve got to show you. But you’ll have to touch me using your psychometry power, okay? I think when you see this, you’ll understand why I was so confused before.”

“Ooo touch me too, I wanna see!” Saiki then put his hand on Toritsuka’s shoulder and Y/N touched the back of Saiki’s hand.

“Is that?”

“Allow me to introduce my guardian spirit.” It just so happened to be Nendo’s dad…

“I’m sorry, you really do have it rough.”

“Now that’s some misfortune…” Y/N said while snickering.

“Why did you touch Saiki? Couldn’t you see my guardian spirit anyway?” Toritsuka asked Y/N.

“Huh? No, why do you say that?” Y/N asked confused.

“Hold on…” Toritsuka then put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“You’re real?!”

“Uh, ya? They’ve been here the whole time…”

“I genuinely thought they were your guardian spirit.” Toritsuka said to Saiki a little embarrassed.

“Well isn’t that quaint. Just think about that Kusuo, me watching over you your whole life. Not to far off from the truth now is it,” Y/N beamed. Saiki took a moment to think about this but didn’t respond.

“Sorry again about ignoring you…” Toritsuka said meekly.

“Oh don’t worry about it. You’ve provided me with some good entertainment today, just don’t keep doing it alright?” Y/N reached out their hand to shake Toritsuka’s.

“Sure” he smiled back.

“But quick question… are you a boy or a girl?”

Y/N chose to not let that get to them and just laughed.

—————————————————————————

Y/N was watching as a girl was carrying a heavy box, they were waiting until she would either trip or have to take a break. Obviously they would have helped if she tripped but they had to get their entertainment from somewhere right?

However, just as the girl tripped, Hairo caught her.

“Woah. You okay? This is heavy, where you taking it?” “The teacher’s lounge.”

“But! First I want you to bring it this far. We can only get stronger by pushing past our own limits! Come on! Great job, don’t give up, keep going you can do it!”

“Good hustle” he replied when the girl gave him the box.

“Now it’s time to push myself. I’m gonna carry it the rest of the way while doing bunny hops!”

“Oh! Hairo’s hoping like a bunny” “we should hop along with him!” “We don’t have stuff to carry but we can pretend!” “Ya!”

“AAAAAA, IM COMING FOR YA TEACHERS LOUNGE!” Hairo screamed.

“Is all that really necessary? I know the last time I was near Hairo I found it entertaining but this is a little much” Y/N said to Saiki.

“As hard as he is on others, he’s harder on himself. I don’t hate him as a person, but the two of us probably wouldn’t mix very well.” Saiki commented back.

“Hey Saiki, L/N! Did you know that scientists say that the average person sweats about 300mls every night while they’re sleeping?”

“You’re telling me why?” ‘Why is this thought relevant’ Saiki replied and Y/N thought.

“Well the school’s sports day is coming up and I’m working on building the entry gate for it right now. Kudo was supposed to be helping but then he when and came down with a cold. Really it’s almost done, all we have to do is connect the arch to the pedestals. So if you would just give me a hand…” Hairo paused as he opened the door and saw that the arch was destroyed.

“PEDESTAL?! YOU WERE STANDING JUST FINE YESTERDAY! HEY! COME ON GET UP!”

“Pep-talks don’t work on pedestals. By the way, this is more than we can fix ourselves so I’m gonna go now” Saiki commented at Hairo’s hysteria. Y/N also tried to follow Saiki out of the room before Hairo spoke to them again.

“Saiki we can do this! If we work fast we’ll finish before the last train leaves!”

‘Give me a break’ Saiki thought.

“Oh I can’t stay. It’s my turn to make dinner for my family so I really should head home… I’m sorry I couldn’t stay Hairo.” Y/N only lied a little to Hairo, in truth they knew that sports day was a month away so they didn’t want to waste time helping Hairo.

“Oh! That’s fine I guess, you can help us with something else another day!” Hairo said back a little disappointed.

“You got it!” Y/N gave Hairo a smile and a thumbs up, then left Kusuo and Hairo to deal with the arch way.

Once Saiki was done with helping Hairo he stopped by Y/N’s house before going home.

“Oh hey Kusuo! I’m sorry it took so long…” Y/N said feeling a little guilty for leaving him.

“Ya him and me don’t mix. I’m gonna raid your fridge for sweets in exchange for you ditching me and leaving me alone with him.” Saiki said while walking to the kitchen.

“What?! Oh, fine. I guess that’s fair,” Y/N sighed.

—————————————————————————

Y/N was reading on their sofa for most of the day. Their parents were at coworkers wedding so they left Y/N home alone. The day was leisurely and calm, maybe a little hot but that was nothing a fan couldn’t fix. Y/N briefly saw Nendo from outside their window headed to Saiki’s house but they didn’t worry about it and continued doing their thing.

—————————————————————————

“What Minako dumped you?!” “Hey keep it down”

“So you’re signal again?” “Welcome back!”

Y/N could not help but over hear conversations about breakups and love life’s being on the rocks. And they noticed that the way Yumehara was starring Kusuo that her relationship probably wasn’t going well either…. that or she was a cheater, probably not best to think your classmate is like that but at least it’s an interesting dynamic.

“So this guy’s Takeru?” Saiki said while spying on the guy. “I guess so, he seems rather normal, he’s got friends and such… I don’t understand why Yumehara would-”

“Ah!” “Are you okay?” Takeru’s jaw got dislocated while he was laughing.

“Ya, I’m fine, my jaw just got dislocated sorry.” “No we’re sorry for making you laugh…”

“That really is a buzzkill.” Saiki said. “Sure, but I’m sure there is something about him that could keep Yumehara tied to him, right?” Y/N responded worriedly.

“Oh hey Takeru, how’s everything been going with your girlfriend lately?” “Great!”

“Nope. Wrong answer.” ‘Oh dear’ Y/N thought exasperated.

“He thinks this is going great?” Saiki asked generally while spying on Yumehara and Takeru.

“I mean if he’s that oblivious then maybe there’s no helping them. If you really wanna try to keep them together, give it a shot. Just tell me what happens later, I’ll have coffee jelly waiting at my house for you. See ya Kusuo,” Y/N could already tell that it was helpless but they also knew Saiki would tell them everything he tried to do to keep them together later.

In Y/N’s book if Kusuo failed at keeping them together, they would still get the story and they would be there to comfort Kusuo with coffee jelly later. A win, win really. So Y/N walked home alone and waited for Kusuo to come home and spill the beans about Yumehara and Takeru’s relationship.

Just before dinner Saiki finally showed up at the L/N residence.

“So? How’d it go?” Y/N asked. Saiki didn’t respond, he just sat next to Y/N on the couch and collapsed onto their shoulder.

“That bad huh?” Y/N asked while starting to play with the hairs on the back of Kusuo’s neck.

“Her like-ability scare for him was up to 95. She could have married him! But as soon as they went to Okonomiyaki for dinner she saw all the things that she hated about him. His like-ability shot down to 0 in an instant.” Kusuo complained as he got more comfortable leaning onto Y/N.

“Ouch. Well, how about you stay the night so we can watch movies and eat all the coffee jelly we want to take your mind off of things?” Y/N asked Kusuo as they started to massage his scalp.

“Sure. I’ll go grab the coffee jelly and you can pick the movie.” Saiki said while getting up.

“How about you go change out of your uniform first? It’s not really made to be relaxed in,” Y/N joked.

“Fine. But I’m taking one of my hoodies that your stole from me.” Saiki joked back.

“Alright, I’ll be waiting here,” Y/N said and smiled warmly as Saiki went up the stairs.

—————————————————————————

Next episode

[jthealien]

To key or not to key, that is the question. (Aka I wanted to put my two cents into the “Buddy is a key” theory since Book of Deacon had more people talking about it, for good reason.)

So what do I think? Uh. Well. It’s complicated. I’ll try to keep this organized, but man do I love tangents.

TLDR: Buddy’s not a key, not not a key, but a secret third thing.

First off, Book of Deacon established some pretty major things, specifically that keys can go into books and what keys look like inside of books. I’ll focus on the latter for a bit.

While much more human looking, Silver still retains a lot of her key (ha.) features: partially gray skin, gem eyes, a general sparkliness.

She’s so shiny :D

I’m going to make an assumption that most of those traits (especially the first two) apply to the other keys’ human forms.

And Buddy? Well he doesn’t have any of those. There’s absolutely zero color on that guy that isn’t #FFFFFF, and while his eyes do kind of stare into your soul — they also look like normal human ones.

But we do know that keys can make minor appearance changes to their users. Considering skin modifications like tattoos are possible, who’s to say any key-like features could just be covered up? It hasn’t been stated otherwise, so that can’t be discounted as an option.

But, in Dreams by Night (it’s not one of my rants without me bringing up that episode) we get our first — and to date, only — actual glimpse of Buddy that isn’t in a book or dream.

From what we see of his ear, it doesn’t look very key like. Silver’s ear had some of her key skin tone, so if Buddy was a key, his ear would be a different color as well. It isn’t, though.

But, hypothetically: if Buddy was a key, what key would he be?

I’m almost certain the answer is Violet.

I’ve pointed this out before, but they look really similar. Like, down to the eye color, eye shape, and weird little smirk.

It’s likely not a coincidence. I can’t really think of a reason why Violet would make any other key look like a more masculine version of herself — or if that’s even possible for her to do.

So yeah, he’d be Violet. (I’ll get into the implications of that later because oh boy.)

If that's the case though, can keys put themselves into books? I mean, maybe?? But I feel like that wouldn’t work. Another reason why I don’t really believe that Buddy is a key.

But I can’t ignore that there’s definitely details that’d be explained by it.

That thing around Buddy’s neck in his dream? Other people have pointed out that it kinda looks like a keyring. And yeah, it really does. I’m not quite sure what else it’d be.

How does Buddy know every detail of every story Chase goes into? Keys have that ability.

Why doesn’t Buddy like water? Well, metals can rust.

There’s another thing I can’t bring up because the episode is in fastpass jail as I’m writing this. But it deals with keys not enjoying being stuck as keys with the keyring. (Other fastpassers know what I’m referring to, I think).

All that being said, I’m going to go over some possibilities. Kind of in order from how little to how much I believe them

1. Buddy is a key, but not Violet

It’s not impossible, but I’ve already mentioned the reasons I’m convinced that if he were a key, he’d be Violet. So I’m going to write this one off for now.

Well uh, I would if it weren’t for Chekov’s Gun (or I guess Chekov’s Keyple, in this case).

Why would Punko use a whole episode to establish that keys can use other keys for books, if that wasn’t going to come up again in some way? I suspect that payoff is going to happen this season. Otherwise, it’d make more sense to introduce this detail later.

Unless the focus isn’t meant to be on that ability of the keys, but rather what the keys look like. In a way this might be meant to prove Buddy couldn’t be a key.

But, for the most part, I believe this option the least.

2. Buddy is a key, and Buddy is Violet

I don’t really think this one is true, but it might be my favorite just for the pure symbolism and potential. I might make an AU about it tbh.

Them being one in the same would be the simplest(?) explanation as to why they look so similar.

It’d also mean, technically, Buddy/Violet is in some way trans. Besides me just thinking that’d be neat (source: I’m trans), it’d also have some fascinating story implications.

Like, Buddy has some pretty heavy identity issues, what with him thinking he has to fit the role of the villain, because he doesn't know how to act outside of that. Chase then shows him he can be more than the expectations placed on him by others. Buddy being transmasc would defensively fit into this too.

It also fits with the story’s themes of breaking conventions. We already see that with Chase and Buddy’s having two keys of the four keys that are gendered — and also the only two specifically stated to be for a female role. What else would be a bigger upheaval of conventions, though, than for the personification of the villainess role to actually be a man?

There could definitely be something there too, of Buddy feeling trapped in the wrong body by resenting being a key.

Do I think the story will go down this route? Eh, probably not. But it’s fun to think about! (I think that’s how I’d describe the whole “Buddy is a key theory” in general).

In terms of evidence against this, barring what I’ve already talked about, there’s one thing. However it's in a fastpass episode, and I’m hesitant to say anything about it because I’d feel really really bad for spoiling anything. It's not that major, but I’m going to be on the safe side. Just take my word that it’s pretty solid proof Buddy and Violet are not the same person. (It’s from that scene in ep. 53, if anybody wanted to know.)

Side Note: This section might be the best place to add this, but the name Violet comes from the Latin ‘Viola’. The most well known use of this name is the main character in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. She spends the majority of the play disguised as a man to work for a duke and ends up falling in love with him. Not trying to say this is how it’ll work in Cinderella Boy, but I just think it’s interesting.

Anyway, the next and last option.

3. Buddy is not a key, Buddy is not Violet, but is related to her in some other way

Somehow the theory I believe the most in is the one I’m the least sure how to explain, lmao.

Based on everything I’ve said, I’m pretty sure Buddy is a human. At least from a narrative standpoint it’d make the most sense, because Chase dating one of the keys just seems kind of… weird? (But maybe liking keys runs in the Hollow family, who knows.)

If Buddy was a key, then the other keys would be his family. He really just doesn’t talk about them like that, though. In Rules of Engagement II, he calls Silver “it” and “your key”, and I just don’t think the keys would do that to each other.

So, my other explanation as to why Buddy and Violet look similar is that Buddy is partially a key. How? Why? Great questions because I also don’t know. The closest answers I have are almost purely speculation.

Maybe Violet is Buddy’s mom?? Walk with me here.

By mom I mean like, some kind of magic was used to either create a human version of Violet or infuse some of her powers into a human.

It would account for their positive relationship, considering she’s willing to make Buddy pretty outfits. It’d also explain why Buddy has a lot of attributes of a key (omniscient knowledge of a book, needing to see the story to completion, etc), and make all the key symbolism around him more metaphorical.

Unless she is literally his mom. (Don’t ask me how that’d work because again I don’t know.) In All That Glitters III he hesitates before he says his key did his hair.

Assuming that Violet actually was involved and he didn’t do his hair himself, what was he going to call her? Mom? Sister? Second cousin once removed? Friend? Maybe after his and Chase’s little talk at the end of Beach Boys he realized “oh yeah Violet would be a familial figure/friend.” I’m not sure, but I thought I’d bring it up.

As for the ‘why’ — perhaps Ex Libris wanted someone who is like a key but can also gather Narratonin. Yknow, for efficiency or something.

It’d tie back into Buddy’s identity issues, too. Because yeah I’d also be pretty messed up if I was created for a specific purpose that my entire worth hinges upon. I’d also be really pissed if Some Guy chose to just waltz into the stories, chose to deviate from the plots, chose to gather Narratonin — when I’ve never had those choices.

Case in point, I think this option is the most likely because I really don’t believe Buddy is a key. But I also don’t believe Buddy is completely unrelated to Violet.

[iovetecchou]

If I Can't Have You... ⧸ Jouno Saigiku

༞ Part 1. Part 2.

༞ Contains…! angst, toxic relationship, emotionally detached / mind broken reader, asshole jouno, mentions of blood and physical pain, minor sexual implications (not directed at reader) slightly? remorseful? jouno?

༞ GN Reader.

༞ 1,246 words.

You couldn’t tell how long it had been since everything had occurred. All you knew was that your life was now different. It was strange, though this different felt oddly familiar.

This contrast was something that settled in your chest. But fogged your mind; something that felt strangely nostalgic. Sure, your new normal was questionable. But at least you didn’t have to lie to yourself anymore, and neither did Jouno.

They always say ignorance is bliss. However, this newfound knowledge had set you free. You were unrestricted from your mind, unrestrained from your feelings, from your body. You didn’t have to worry about yourself anymore. Nothing about you mattered unless Jouno said so. He controlled the strings. Something about relinquishing said control; freed you.

You still woke up to no new messages on your phone. But it didn’t concern you anymore. Nothing seemed to matter to you. You still did your daily routines; cleaning up around the house, picking out Jouno‘s uniforms for the following week, and making meals.

It was as though you were on autopilot. Each day was like clockwork, but this routine was the only sense of stability you had left.

The moment you placed the meal you had prepared atop the dining room table… the door creaked open.

“Princess, I’m home! I knew that divine smell from the hallway was coming from our place. Nothing compares to—”

“My cooking. Come, sit, enjoy while it’s still hot.”

He’s told you the same line—

Over,

And over,

And over again.

You could always predict what he was going to say next. It felt as though you were on some poorly scripted sitcom, secretly anticipating a laugh track to follow. But it never came because these weren’t just lines from a script or some job; that you could walk away from at the end of the day.

No, this was your every waking moment, and it would be until the day you died.

“Ah, you know me so well. Why don’t you join me, hm? I’m sure it took you ages to prepare this dish for me—“

“I’m not hungry. I’ll give you some space to eat now.”

Jouno quirked a brow at your choice of words but decided to shake off your dismissive attitude, regardless.

“Some company would be nice. But if you don’t want to, I won’t force you… I’ll just call— ah… what was their name again? The person I was… tangled up with at my office the other week? Oh, I guess their mouth was a little preoccupied at the time so I didn’t quite catch their name. But, I can just call them up to keep me company instead.”

“If that’s what you want, Saigiku.”

You didn’t so much as flinch when those venomous words left Jouno’s lips. Your heartbeat remained on a steady rhythm. No spiked blood pressure and your tone of voice was eerily calm. Jouno was taken aback, by your lack of concern. Sure, he said all those things to get a rise out of you; but no give.

Jouno didn’t even recognize you. For weeks you’ve been a zombie. Following his every order and never contradicting his words. At first, this was best case scenario for the blind king himself. But… you weren’t anything anymore. Sure, you might have been there physically, but mentally? You were checked out. No semblance of life— or will to continue. You were just… there.

Jouno began to wonder if he took things too far. If he broke you beyond the point of return. He quickly pushed those thoughts into the depths of his mind. Besides, he had no reason to feel guilty. He was the entire reason you had a roof over your head. Food filling the kitchen, and books lining the shelves for your enjoyment.

Except, you hadn’t picked up a book in ages. Jouno noted. You used to read a few chapters of whichever book you were currently infatuated with to him each night before bed, but not anymore. And he couldn’t recall the last time you ate. Jouno secretly hoped you had proper meals when he wasn’t around— wait. Was he… beginning to show some concern for you? No, this needed to stop. Now.

“Y/N… Stop this nonsense immediately. Time for fun and games is over.”

“Was the food not good tonight, Saigiku? I’m sorry, I can make you something different. I’ll be sure to make enough for your unnamed guest as well. Do you think they’ll be here soon? I’ll start right away if so.”

Just what the fuck had he done. The old Y/N would never function this way or say these things. He didn’t love you by any means, but he tolerated you. And maybe some things you did in the past amused him. But you were nothing more than an empty husk now. Jouno knew now that he did push it too far with you. And he could hardly suppress that stomach-dropping feeling that crawled up his spine; remorse.

Jouno quickly sat up from his place at the dining room table, making quick strides toward you. Your back was facing him as you now made yourself busy with cleaning some of the dirty dishes that piled up.

Jouno grasped your shoulders firmly, spinning you on your heel, finally gaining your full attention.

“Y/N, I said cut it out! I hate what you’ve become. I want you to stop this. All of this. Immediately!”

“Stop? Stop… what?”

His hands gripped your shoulders even fiercer in frustration, but you didn’t care. The pain didn’t bother you much anyway.

“Y/N please… alright— look, I’m sorry. There? Are you happy now? Can you stop fucking with me now?”

“Sorry? For… what?”

Jouno scored his bottom lip with his teeth in frustration. Drawing blood from how hard he had done so. You truly had no clue what he was talking about. This wasn’t just some ruse; you were gone. Even if he tried to pick up the pieces and attempt to put you back together… so many core components of you were missing. Irreplaceable ones.

“Have I… upset you, Saigiku?”

Your hands came up to wipe a few stray tears that managed to slip past Jouno’s closed eyelids.

He hadn’t even noticed that he was… crying. Until he felt your cold hands swipe over his newly dampened cheeks. He couldn’t help but laugh at how ironic all of this was.

Jouno was always the dismissive one when it came to feelings and emotions. But the roles were now reversed.

“Y/N, if you’re still in there somewhere, please just say something— give me a sign, just— anything!”

“Still in… where? I’m right here, Saigiku. I don’t think I understand what you want from me this time.”

The tears flowed freely down his reddened cheeks at this point. Jouno could care less about how he appeared at this very moment. He was desperate.

He didn’t want anyone else to have you. That’s why he isolated you and broke you down the way he did. But the person standing before him wasn’t… you. You weren’t much of anything anymore. The worst part of it all? Jouno was responsible for doing this to you.

“Y/N… I’m going to step out for a little while. I’ll be back tomorrow, perhaps.”

“Okay. Same time tomorrow?”

Jouno hesitated for a moment from your familiar words. His hold on your shoulders loosened as he took a moment to compose himself, taking in a shaky breath before he uttered,

“Indeed, same time tomorrow.”

[cryptic--writing]

pls anything with load era james IM BEGGING YOU

hihi!!

thanks for the request! please be specific next time! I don't know what you want, so please give me at least a genre or scenario!!

anyways, its an angst fic bc I didn't know what else to do

warnings: drinking, swearing, one line that sounds sucicidal but isn't, possible break up, arguing, angst in general

word count: 2,440

LOSING YOU (1996)

I sat in the cold, empty hotel, sitting on the bed and just staring at the wall, trying to process everything that's been going on.

The last few months in James and I’s relationship have been pure hell. Nothing was going right with us, it felt like there was no more caring, passion, or even love. 

These months James has been on tour, and I decided to join him for a few of the dates, tired of spending months alone in our apartment, the quietness and deadness of it all seemed odd. I always enjoyed James’ presence, and I had gone out on tour with him before, but this time was, way, way different. Normally, he comes back somewhat drunk, not fully wasted since I was there, but he was tipsy. Now, he would come up at 3 am, drunk off his ass, and be all weird to me. He’d ignore me completely unless he had needs he wanted me to fulfill.

But lately, for at least the last 15 shows or so, he would just come in drunk, push my hands away from him, and wouldn't let me cuddle up with him, which was very not like him, as he was one who valued personal time, but perhaps his priorities have changed.

I sighed, hearing the doorknob of the hotel rattle, it was locked, and I slowly trudged towards the door, a small hope begging that James was sober, and just wanted to love me. I cracked the door open, seeing James swaying slightly as I opened the door fully to let him in, and oh how he reeked of beer. I moved so he could get in, and he stumbled in, not even greeting me.

“Hi,” I said coldly with a scoff, shutting the door. I watched as he shuffled to the bed, falling on it with a groan.

“Why are you always.. Such a bitch..?” He slurred out, and I felt my heart drop, my stomach twisted into a knot. We had argued plenty of times, name called even, but he never called me a bitch. 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” I said, more of a statement than a question, my voice shaking slightly. He was drunk, he must not meant it.

“Youre.. You're a bitch..” He slurred out at me again, which stung again. We had been together for almost 6 years, and he had never lashed out at me, not like this.

I scoffed, my hurt and sadness only coming out as anger, “What is your problem? You haven't wanted to be around me at all, for weeks. You're always drunk, and you never hug me, kiss me, talk to me, hold me, anything that we used to do.” I stated coldly at him, though I doubted the words really registered in his mind.

James just groaned, “God, all you do is whine and complain.. Just shut up for once..” He grumbled out, and it hurt me, bad.

I shook my head, grabbing my coat and wallet before walking towards the hotel room door, “I’ll talk to you once you're sober.” I called out into the room, though I doubt he understood me as I slammed the door, storming out of the hotel and walking out into the street, the cold air nipping my skin harshly.

My outfit wasn't very warm, just my sleep shorts and one of James’ old band shirts, along with my jacket. I hated the shirt I was wearing, he was the last thing I wanted to be reminded of, though It brought me some slight comfort, smelling him on it and feeling that he was still with me somewhat, even if not truly or emotionally.

I walked for about twenty minutes until I found another hotel, booking a room for the night as I felt the cold air melt off of me, the warm hotel air swaddling me in a way. I sighed, slowly approaching the front desk, the receptionist glancing up at me from her computer screen.

She was quick to take in my rushed state, clearly here on a whim. “How can I help you?” She said, her voice tired. It was so late, I didn't blame her. I read the name on her nametag, Laurice. A name I hadn't ever heard before.

“Can I get a room, just for the night please?” I said, my voice shaking a bit, my mind still hazed from the argument.

Laurice nodded, typing on her keyboard for a few moments before glancing back up at me. “Alright, we can get you in room 247 on floor 3 for $67.48. Will that be cash or card?” 

I sighed, grabbing my wallet out of my pocket, “Uhm, cash,” I mumbled, digging out a fifty-dollar bill and a twenty.

Laurcie grabbed my money, giving me my change as she handed me my hotel key, “Enjoy your stay, you check out at two pm tomorrow.” She informed me briefly before sitting back down behind the desk, and I took the key, walking away.

I walked slowly into the elevator, the empty, compact steel room making me feel horridly uncomfortable. The silence, the only noise was the rutting hum of the elevator moving up towards floor three, until the sudden jolt and stop, the elevator dining and opening.

I quickly walked out, wandering around the vacant halls until I found my room, unlocking the door with my key, stepping in and shutting it, and locking it behind me. Standing there for a moment, the events of the night replaying in my mind, everything finally hitting me, hard. I stumbled towards the bed, beginning to sob. All my emotions and hurt finally spilled over from the last weeks, of being ignored, pushed away, insulted, and yelled at. All I needed was someone to hold me, love me, and comfort me. This was a life I didn't want to live. Maybe even after all of these years with James, the ‘honeymoon phase’ has ended. Maybe he was right, that I couldn't handle dating a rockstar like him.

How could things fall apart in such an instant? One day we were perfect, happy as can be, discussing our future, even marriage or children. I clutched my stomach, feeling nauseous at all of these emotions. I brought the large shirt up to my nostrils, inhaling his familiar scent.

I hadn't been alone to process a breakdown like this in years, James wasn't here to hold me, tell me it would all be alright and that he loved me, but now I questioned if any of that was true. Everything had fallen apart around me, I was alone, in a different place from where we lived, sobbing in a hotel room.

Eventually, I cried myself to sleep, the half-empty bed making me feel so odd, so unnatural. Sleeping without him holding me as I curl up to him is so wrong. I have grown so dependent on him, yet he seems like he could use less of me.

IN THE MORNING

I woke up groggily, my body instinctively searching for his warmth, though finding none. Last night memories flooded back to me. Now realisation hit me. I looked at the clock, the red pixels gleaming 1:34 PM. I had slept in so late, and by now James was either sober and hungover, or drunk off his ass again. Maybe he skipped town and left with the band to go to their next gig early.

They were done with the shows in this city, and the private plane would be leaving tomorrow at noon. My list of choices was small, either not leave the city, fly home, show up to the private plane unannounced, or make amends.

This shouldn't be so hard for me to get over, it was just a drunken spat, but he has been neglectful towards me for weeks. Was there anyone else I could find to even possibly replace him?

The man who had held me during so many nights, made me smile, made m laugh, and made me feel like the most important and loved person in the world, now made me feel like a piece of shit he stepped in, it was like all we had has vanished.

He would push me aside when I tried to hug him, wipe my kiss stains from his cheek, shrug off my questions, and keep me distant. I would try to cuddle up to him in bed, and he would just move further away from me until he was against the wall, then he would tell me to “give him some space”.

If anything, I have to settle down to what we have become with him. I had to check out if this hotel was in.. Fuck, twenty minutes. I didn't have much or anything to grab, but I would have nowhere else to go except for the hotel James was at. I had to speak to him, either to fix things or end them.

I sighed, quickly fixing the bed and grabbing my wallet, checking out of the hotel and trying to remember the way back to where James and the rest of the band were staying. I wasn't sure which street I walked up or down, where I turned left or right. This would be very, very difficult.

After wandering around for thirty minutes, I finally reached the hotel. I stood in front of the door for what felt like an hour, but I quickly walked in, though was surprised to see James’ bandmate, Kirk, in the lobby of the hotel, talking with a man who I didn't recognize, though I assumed he was a fan. I slowly approached him, tapping him on the shoulder and he quickly turned his head back, recognizing me.

“Hey, do you know-” My words were mumbled and hushed, though that didn't matter as Kirk quickly interrupted me.

“Hey! Where the hell have you been? We were all gonna go to breakfast but James said he couldn't find you or something, is everything ok?” Kirk spoke quickly, his words filled with confusion and relief.

I sighed, “Yeah, everything is fine, where's James?” I glanced around the lobby, hoping to see him maybe.

Kirk nodded, “He's in his room, probably waiting for you,” He responded, and I nodded, already walking away.

“Thanks, Kirk,” I called back to him, already down the hallway and getting into the elevator, headed for the 6th floor where we stayed. The elevator hummed, gradually bringing me to my desired floor with a ding, the doors opened and I walked down the hallway, each step feeling like I was walking a thousand miles, even though the door to our room was probably no more than twenty feet away.

I now stood in front of the door, collecting myself and taking a deep breath before opening the door, seeing James standing in the hotel, on the phone with someone. He turned around when he heard me opening the door, his face turning relieved, setting down the phone and giving his full attention to me in what felt like years.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He asked with a scoff, he wasn't mad, or at least he didn't seem mad, just concerned.

I sighed, “Away. Do you remember anything from last night?”

James rubbed his forehead, “I.. no, not really, we did our show, and then everything blurry after that. Did something happen?”

I shrugged, still standing in the doorway, finally shutting the door, “Yeah, I guess. We need to talk.”

James grew more concerned, his face showing the thousands of thoughts running through his head. “Ok, uhm, sure, is everything okay?”

“I don't know.”

“What is that supposed to mean? What happened?” James began to sound more irritated, though still worried and confused.

“I want to know what happened too,” I stated, so lost that he couldn't even pinpoint why or how I was hurting.

“Enough of these bullshit games, the hell is up with you?” He seemed to only grow irritated with me.

I sighed, now I was getting annoyed with him. “No, what the hell is up with you? This is the first time you've tried to talk to me, in like, a week. You avoid me, you push me away, you won't kiss me, you won't even look at me! I have been neglected and ignored by you for weeks. Ever since this tour started, I have been your last priority.” I finally said, my words heavy yet rushed with emotion.

James was silent, he couldn't think of anything to say. He knew that I was right, but would he ever admit it? He sat on the bed, sighing, looking at the floor, and refusing to make eye contact with me.

The silence went on for about a minute, and I was losing my patience, “Are you gonna say anything or just..?” I finally muttered, growing tired of being ignored by him.

James shook his head, shrugging a bit. “I.. I don't know, I'm sorry, I never meant to be or tried to be cold to you, it's just.. I get like this on tour, y’know?” He mumbled, clearly digging for an excuse.

I scoffed, “But you have time to get drunk, party and fool around with other women?”

James just looked defeated, he didn't want to argue. “I'm sorry, ok? I don't know what to say.. Just, c’mere?” His voice was soft, tired.

I was hesitant, I didn't know why he wanted me to go to him, but I did, slowly walking towards him on the bed, and sitting down next to him. He laid his head against my shoulder, something I had missed, his touch. I didn't know what to say, or really what to do.

“I love you..” James mumbled to me softly, but I wasn't sure if he was truthful. I wanted to ask him if he really did because it never seemed like it anymore, but I knew better and to hold my tongue.

I sighed, my eyes on him, “I love you too..” I muttered in response. My words were true, I did love him, but did he? That's what I wasn't sure of.

“I'll change, ok? I won't drink as much, I won't be out as late after shows.. I won't ignore you anymore. That's a promise.” James swore to me, and I had no choice but to take his word for it, and to believe him.

“I hope that stays true,” I replied in a soft, slightly shaky tone as I let out a shaky sigh, possibly beginning a new stage of our relationship.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

sorry if this isn't too good! I also just had it sitting around for a week and I wanna move on to another idea I had

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Live While We're Young — JJ Maybank

An Outer Banks Imagine

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: No phones, your sneaky link, and a party.

Warnings: Underage drinking

A/N: This is inspired by the One Direction song because duh. Just a lil bit of fluff to get you through the next few days before Season 4 is out!!!

Masterlist

It’s Saturday night and your phone has been eerily silent. You thought that JJ would be bugging you nonstop about the party, but he hasn’t sent any messages today. For once, it seems like he’s actually respecting your boundaries (though a part of you secretly loves that he barged his way into your life and continues to shake things up on a daily basis). You check it again (still nothing) and turn back to your chemistry textbook with a sigh. 

It’s 9:04 when a knocking sound coming from your window breaks you out of your concentration. Adrenaline spikes your heart rate, and you grab your Hydroflask from your bedside table before going to check it out. It’s mostly full, so it should be enough to knock out a kidnapper or a burglar should the need arise. 

But when you pull up the shades, it’s just a blond chaos demon wearing a mischievous smirk that makes your knees buckle. As you unlock the window and push it up, you flash him an eye roll, which only makes his smirk grow. You step back to give him room to clamber in, and he slides through with a practiced ease. 

“Hey, princess, sorry I’m late. I parked at the country club and walked over so no one would see,” he says, leaning back against the window. His eyes flicker down your body, taking in your PJ shorts and oversized Kildare Marina t-shirt. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I told you, I’m not going,” you answer, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“And I told you that you are.” He takes a big step forward, closing the distance between you. He grabs your wrists and pulls your arms down, swinging them. “C’mon, it’ll be fu-un.” There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he sings the last word, dragging out the ‘u.’

“I’m not stupid, JJ, I know that this party is a glorified orgy. And Rafe Cameron has been bragging about all the drugs he’s bringing for weeks now.”

“Well it just so happens that the party's at John B’s, where I conveniently have my own room. No orgy participation necessary. Unless, of course, you decide you want to join in after all.” You huff out a sigh, rolling your eyes again.

“You wish, Maybank.”

“If you’re really that afraid, I won’t force you to come. I just thought we could have this one night to be normal. Get drunk, pretend we’re in love, ignore that this has been doomed from the start.” His shoulders lift in a slight shrug as if he doesn’t care, but he looks down at you through his eyelashes and you see a hint of wistfulness underneath his carefree expression. You bite down on your lower lip as you make a quick mental pros and cons list. JJ can see the gears turning in your brain and pulls you into his chest, dropping your hands to wrap his arms around your waist instead. 

“Don’t overthink it, just let go for one night. I promise you won’t regret it.” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss, letting his tongue sweep across your bottom lip for just a moment before pulling back. The past month flashes through your mind; a highlight reel of stealing kisses behind the boat house when he’s supposed to be mowing the lawn, sneaking out to meet him at the bluffs in the middle of the night, and hooking up in the back of the Twinkie. 

It’s hard to see a future with this boy from the wrong side of the island, but there’s a part of you that longs for it. To be sucked fully into his wild vortex of a life. You let out a defeated sigh. If you don’t seize this moment, you may never get the chance to see if JJ can be more than just a summer fling. 

“Fine, just give me ten minutes and I’ll meet you at the club,” you say. His face breaks into a grin and he leans in to press a quick peck to your cheek and then he’s gone in a flash. 

“I’m gonna go before you change your mind. See you in ten minutes!” He calls over his shoulder as he climbs back out into the flat part of the roof over the garage. 

You shake your head and chuckle to yourself as you throw some clothes into your backpack. On your way out of your room, you grab your laptop and a textbook to strengthen your alibi. 

“I’m going to sleep over at Sarah’s, we’ve got a big chem test next week that we need to study for,” you tell your parents as you pass the living room. You don’t stick around to hear their response and let yourself out the front door. 

The country club is a short walk away, and the Twinkie is the only car in the lot. JJ is leaning against it, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone while he waits. As you get closer, your footsteps get louder, and he looks up at you with a smile. 

“Hang on, I just gotta change quick,” you say as you keep walking, past him and around the car until you’re mostly hidden from his view. “Don’t look.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he snorts. 

“We’re pretending to be in love tonight, right? That means you’re a respectful boyfriend.” You slip off your comfy clothes and into your party attire as fast as you can, wanting to get out of Figure 8 as soon as possible. 

“I never said anything about being respectful.”

Even though he can’t see your face, you roll your eyes as you get into the car. 

“A girl can dream,” you let out a fake-dramatic sigh and cross your arms as he slides in next to you. 

“Look at us, fighting like a couple already.” 

“If we were a real couple, how would you make up with me?” You ask, looking over at him with a sly smirk. 

“I’d say, c’mon, babe, don’t be like that,” he raises his voice an octave, making it sound whiny. Hearing him call you ‘babe,’ even jokingly, sends blood rushing to your core. “Then, I’d grab your hand like this,” he pulls on your left hand, carefully releasing it from where it is still crossed in front of your chest, then laces his fingers with yours. His thumb rubs slow circles against the sensitive skin on the back of your hand and your breath hitches in your throat. 

“Wow, Maybank, I’m impressed,” you say, forcing through your breathlessness to continue with the joke. “Maybe there’s secretly a rom-com heartthrob hiding beneath that whole fuckboy thing you’ve got going on.” You use your joined hands to gesture vaguely over at him, and he chuckles. 

“Nah, I’ve just seen enough movies to be able to fake it.” Your laugh is loud and wild, and with your head thrown back you don’t notice the way JJ’s eyes sparkle as he looks over at you. 

JJ pulls up in front of John B’s house, where the yard is already packed with people. Kiara and Pope are sitting in lawn chairs on the driveway next to a giant storage bin. When you reach over to open the passenger door, JJ grabs your arm and mutters “Wait.” You let your hand drop into your lap and watch as he jogs around the front of the car. In the distance behind him, his two friends share a confused look. He opens your door and holds a hand out to you, dropping his head in a mock-bow that probably looks real to everyone else who can’t see the goofy grin on his face. With another eye roll, you take his hand and let him help you out of the car. While you walk across the driveway, he keeps a firm hold on your hand and gently swings your arm with his own, which makes you laugh again. 

When you stop in front of Kie and Pope, their eyebrows furrow in tandem.

“Y/N?” Kie asks, shaking her head slightly as she looks back and forth between you and JJ. The two of you had been friends as kids, before she started pulling away from everything and everyone on Figure 8. 

“Dude, when you said you were bringing the girl you were hooking up with we thought she’d be a touron,” Pope says, looking over at you with an amused smile. 

A few heads turn at the sight of you and JJ holding hands as you battle your way through the crowd to the keg, but no one says anything. They’d be hypocrites if they did, since most of them are dancing with people they’d never be caught dead with on a normal day. 

John B’s up by the keg with your best friend Sarah, which is really the only normal thing about this party. She flashes you a knowing smile as John B claps a hand on JJ’s shoulder, whispering something that makes JJ smirk, before handing you each a plastic solo cup. You hold it up for JJ to ‘cheers’ before you take your first sip. The cheap beer leaves a bitter taste in the back of your throat which makes you wrinkle your nose. He takes a long swig from his own cup and then leans in so his mouth is next to your ear. 

“If we were really dating, I’d tell you that we have other drinks inside,” he yells over the loud music. 

“If we were really dating, I’d make you get me a vodka lemonade,” you shout back, batting your eyelashes at him as 

He leads you into the house, which he has to unlock and then relock behind you so no one sneaks in to use the beds (or the couch, or the floor…) for their fatherless behavior. 

While he digs around under the sink for the bottle, you hoist yourself up onto the counter next to him, letting your legs swing as you wait. When he’s finished making your drink, he steps up to the counter, nudging your legs to the side so he can wedge his hips between them. You reach for the glass but he pulls it out of your reach. 

“If you were really my girlfriend, I’d make you trade me a kiss for your drink,” he teases, raising his eyebrows as if to challenge you. 

“If you were really my boyfriend, I’d kiss you like this,” you whisper as you grab a fistful of his t-shirt and pull him in. You slide your lips against his in slow, languid strokes, letting your tongue flick against his bottom lip every few seconds but pulling it back before he can suck it fully into his mouth like you know he wants to. 

“If you were really my girlfriend, I’d take you back to my room and fuck you so hard that everyone at the party would know about us,” he mutters against your lips. As much as you like that idea, you actually do want to dance.

“Well, if you were really my boyfriend, I’d make you go back outside and dance with me first.” With both hands, you push against his chest to get him to take a step back and slide off the counter into the now-open space. After giving him a quick peck, you pluck the glass from his hand and strut back outside. You don’t need to turn around to know that he’s following, eager to have his hands all over you again. 

By the time you shove your way to the middle of the makeshift dance floor, your drink is half-empty and you feel the alcohol going straight to your head, blurring the edges of your thoughts and making your brain feel lighter. Finally, you turn around to face JJ and flash him a cheeky, vodka-soaked smile as you start to sway your hips to the beat of the music. He’s still for a moment, watching you through eyes heavy with lust, and then he’s there, right in front of you with his free hand gripping your hip. 

Bravery surges through your veins, aided by the alcohol and the relative safety of a phoneless party, and you slip one of your legs between JJ’s. You can feel him hardening against your thigh and lean into it, pressing your hips forward until they’re flush with his. He leans in to press hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. 

Despite your closeness, the two of you are surprisingly PG compared to the crowd around you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Topper Thornton with one hand on Shelby Moore’s tits while the other is lost underneath her dress, two guys taking turns making out with the same girl, and at least three topless girls. So you don’t feel bad about tangling your hands in his blond hair, pulling his head up until it’s level with yours, and crashing your lips against his. 

As the alcohol continues to flow, your game of make-believe descends into madness. When the party starts looking more like an orgy, the two of you decide to take a walk along the beach to try and sober up a little bit. The cool, salt-infused air is a refreshing change from the sweaty mess of bodies you had spent most of the night in, and you close your eyes and take a deep breath, letting it cleanse your sins. 

“If I was your boyfriend I’d tackle you into the water right now,” JJ says from just behind you. He’s got one arm around your waist and his chin is resting on your shoulder. You open one eye and turn your head to the side to frown at him. 

“If I was your girlfriend, I’d kick you in the balls,” you shoot back. 

“Well then I’d kick you in the… boobs.” It takes him a second to figure out where to kick you for the same effect, and you burst out laughing when he finally finishes his sentence. “Hey! It’s not funny. Girls don’t really have anything equivalent to balls.” 

“Equivalent? That’s a big word. JJ Maybank, have you been studying?” 

“Fuck off,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. It feels hot against your skin and you twist in his arms so you’re facing him. 

“Oh my God, you have been! It’s a Christmas miracle!” You exclaim, amusement lifting your voice up an octave. 

“It’s not a big deal, Pope’s just been helping me with some stuff.” 

“Not for most people, but for the guy who said he’d rather die than open a textbook, it seems like a pretty big deal.”

“Well, I’d rather not spend the rest of my life in high school, so I thought I should at least try to get my shit together.” He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, but you know he’s still a little embarrassed because he won’t make eye contact with you. 

You reach up to brush his hair off his forehead, locking your gaze with his. 

“If I was your girlfriend, I’d be proud of you,” you whisper. The words hang suspended in the space between you and suddenly it doesn’t feel like a game anymore. JJ’s eyes flicker down to your lips and back up to your eyes. They’re filled with a softness you’ve never seen before and when he leans in to kiss you, it’s slow and sweet. 

It’s not much, just a soft brushing of lips, but it feels like a possibility. You lean into it, into him, taking a leap of faith. After all, you gotta live while you’re young, right?

[demonqueenart]

Hello another latam fan here, I just wanted to ask, you addressed the last anon about them ignoring the third world country comment and not apologizing but do they know? has the fandom being very vocal about it on twitter or places they frequent? About the demand for shows too? I am only in dnp online spaces when they are active and I ask cause I was unaware people felt hurt by that comment up to today reading through your tumblr which was quite a shock to me cause I never even registered it as an insult, just like that Mexican fan anon you received, in my country its also a term that’s still used colloquially. And please forgive me if you gotten a lot of anons like me I tried to scroll as far as I could into your tumblr ( I been here for about an hour 😅 ) I am just now learning there’s a petition to ask them to come to latam ( and Asia and Africa I believe ) to be honest I saw they had not sold out in the US and I thought well there’s no way they sell even half a venue somewhere in latam unless everyone from Mexico down to Argentina travels there but that was only my opinion because in my country we have really big local YouTubers and no one I ask has seen Dan and Phil content 😅 I hope these questions from everyone aren’t weighting on you too much I am a latam fan that never felt a need to have a tour date or an apology and was unaware others did so I been out of the loop and I feel like I am late to all these conversations taking place but I hope I can be of service from now on to help all other latam fans feel welcome in this space. ( Also I am sorry for the length of my message! it’s difficult for me to be concise in English than in Spanish, but I am working on it! )

It’s alright anon :) I don’t mind. As for the question: has the fandom been very vocal about the third world comment on twitter? yes. Yes they have.

Mirian and others from twt have been very vocal about it from the start. She has recorded a sound clip when it happened and showed it to people when she’s addressing this issue. She and a bunch of other people have addressed this again when the fake apology video happened, saying they refusing to acknowledge and apologize for the real thing. All those instances were, of course, got shunned down by people. From what I’ve heard, every time someone tries to bring it up, they’ll be silent by other twitter users. Dnp surely must have seen this for a while now, they have yet to address it. They probably won’t if we were to not call them out again.

It’s completely valid for you not to feel offended by this, we all have a different experience after all. You don’t have to be mad about any of this to still enjoy this space. I’m just hoping to bring this to light for those who’s affected by it. Because it’s not fair to keep shutting people up when they’re hurt, and it’s not okay to not do anything about it now. I hope this doesn’t weight down on you much too :)

Auto-message: This ask’s purpose is to acknowledge dnp’s past/present exclusivity, not to cancel them! But to embrace mistakes that they’ve made so that 1. we won’t exclude people in need in this community, and 2. we can normalize bringing up exclusivity so that improvement can happen. Hopefully this will one day help dnp realize that this is a safe space for them to talk about their mistakes, so that this space can become safe for people of all kinds too <3

*If you don’t understand what is happening, scroll through my blog for context. And I’ll be taking time to answer my asks, so don’t think I’m ignoring youuu*

[heynikkiyousofine]

Happy Inu-Spiration 2024!

I was teamed up with @brain-rot-hour this year for @inu-spiration and we are bringing you some fun InuKag and SessSan shenanigans. Enjoy!

The Feudal Era: Adventures in BabySitting

The morning summer sun warmed his skin, alerting Inuyasha that today would be another hot one and he was more than ready to begin their journey to the beach. Unsure of why his wife wanted to go in the middle of the hottest time of the year was beyond him, but he was never one to tell her no. Even more after she returned from the future. However, they were traveling a long distance today and he really didn’t want to have to carry her and their bags in the blistering heat.

“Kagome, you’ve gone over the brats’ schedule with her five times already. I think she’s got it. Isn’t that right, Sango?” He arched his brow at the demon slayer, their gazes meeting and the only answer he received in response was her shrug. Sango knew all too well about keeping kids overnight, and so did they, he might add. He couldn’t keep track of how many times they watched her kids while she went on a trip with his brother.

“Fine, fine.” His wife gave him one of her award winning smiles and all his irritation disappeared, her brown eyes sparkling as the rising sun hit them just right. He would never admit it, but he couldn’t imagine ever falling in love with another color for the rest of his life. “Where is Sesshomaru?”

“Oh, he’s giving his farewell to Rin and Kohaku before they leave to head north on another demon hunt.”

“She’s really enjoying learning all about it and I’m a little shocked to see His Royal Fluffiness be so calm about it.” Kagome winked, leaning in close, so if the daiyoukai were to suddenly appear, he wouldn’t hear her.

“Oh, at first he was anything but calm about it. You know how when he’s especially irritated, his mokomoko gets all fuzzy, like a cat’s tail? It wouldn’t settle for days the first time Rin left the village. I had to force him to stay in the village so he wouldn’t go after them.” Sango loudly whispered back, their grins wide on their faces.

“Is Sango whispering stories again?” Said man appeared next to Inuyasha, his face stoic despite the teasing mood in the air.

“Yeah, she’s telling Sango about the first time Rin went demon slaying.” 

“Hn.”

Rolling his eyes, Inuyasha ignored the weird bond between one of his closest friends and his brother, still not used to the affectionate way Sesshomaru acted towards her. Rin was one thing and even Kagome was another. They were simply family. Sango was a new battleground he had yet to figure out about Sesshomaru. Stepping towards the chittering women, he snatched their overstuffed bag and swung it over his shoulder, slipping his wife’s hand into his.

“Alright love, time to go. See ya both in three days. If we pass Miroku on our travels, I’ll remind him about being back in time for the twins' birthdays at the end of the summer.”

“Thanks Inuyasha, have fun now you two!” Sango waved them off without another word and headed towards her hut, the sound of six children getting up for the day filling the air.

Despite the day being warmer than he initially expected, they made it to the beach in record time, the sun falling beneath the horizon as his toes sank into the sand. Their campsite was hidden behind some trees, so if any other travelers were to pass by, they wouldn’t be able to spot them unless they actively searched for them. Holding onto Kagome’s hand a little tighter than normal, so she didn’t slip as they walked towards the ocean, Inuyasha couldn’t stop the smile from forming.

“Happy that we made it?” Kagome hummed, her cheeks flushed from being out in the sun all day.

“Yeah, it was a quick trip, but I always forget just how insane this view is. Why don’t we come more often?”

“Because we have three kids, all under the age of 6 and getting time away from them is hard enough.” She laughed, the sound drifting across his ears and easing any unspoken worries. He wondered how after six years, she was still able to calm him with such a simple action. “Besides, while I think the kids would have fun here, I would very much like to keep this a place for just the two of us.”

He nodded, the two of them stopping to watch the remainder of the sunset in silence, the waters flowing past their ankles. Arms wrapped around his life, Inuyasha couldn’t help but send a silent prayer up to the heavens, giving his thanks for bringing Kagome back into his life once more. 

Once the moon lit up the night sky, he simply scooped up wife in his arms, sealed his mouth to hers and made his way back to their makeshift bed to show her just how much he appreciated her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days had passed and soon the couple were ready to return to the chaos that was their life, the summer day turning into a cool, rainy one the closer they journeyed home. Inuyasha could only imagine having six kids cooped up in a house all day on one like this was probably not the greatest, especially if the way the scent of rain permeated the air, alerting him that it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Careful to not step in mud, he rounded the bend in the path with his wife at his side, Sango’s home coming into his view. From where they stood, all seemed normal and he couldn’t hear anything happening in the house, but he was sure that it was pure hectic chaos inside. He briefly wondered if Sesshomaru stayed to help or go hide in a tree somewhere, trying to stay dry. The image of a soaking wet daiyoukai made him snicker quietly.

As they neared the home, he could hear the echoes of children’s laughter, still unable to make out any definite sounds with the heavy pouring rain. Pulling aside the mat, he and Kagome froze, mouths’ gaping at the chaotic scene before them.

To his left, his oldest Moroha, currently had Hisui pinned down on the mat, her cackle causing him to wince just a bit. She had managed to get a small garden snake into the hut and was practically shoving it down the poor kid’s throat, calling him a “fraidy cat”. To his right, the older twins had backed Shippo into a corner, the kit hiding his tail protectively because Inuyasha knew all too well how much the girls love to pull it.

A soft hissed caught his attention and glancing over Kagome's still shocked face, he noticed the large pot boiling over into the fire pit, effectively burning whatever Sango had decided to make for lunch. To be truthfully honest, he couldn’t really tell what it was. In the far corner, near the back door he had helped Miroku install so it was easier to get to the stream behind their hut, his youngest lay in a pile of blankets, happily snoozing away. The only thing that seemed really out of place, well more like into full on tantrum mode, was his middle child  wailing in Sango’s arms as she glared at them.

It took him a full minute to realize she was actually giving the dirty look to the full blooded youkai sitting in the corner of rafters overhead, Sesshomaru’s face in a full on pout. Unable to hold back his laughter, he roared, doubling over, catching the sweetest of giggles his wife made beside him.

“What the he-”, Inuyasha paused, wary of little brats repeating his words, before wiping away the tears from his eyes, “Why are you up there, Sesshomaru?”

“Your pup has sticky fingers.”

“She’s three! Of course her fingers are probably sticky.” Kagome laughed once more before turning to console their child, Sango joining them and placing her hands on her hips.

“Lord Fluffy up there decided he didn’t like sticky fingers when Izayoi wanted to play with his hair. Before I could soothe her, Haruto picked the perfect time to spit up the milk you left for him and it just so happened to distract Sesshomaru enough that Izayoi sank her fingers into his mokomoko. I’ve never seen him so offended, except for a few times battling Naraku.” She sighed, shaking her head, and called out, “How long are you planning on staying up there?”

“Either until all of the children’s hands are clean or the rain stops.”

“Good luck with that.” Inuyasha snorted, turning to rescue the poor snake and Hisui from his daughter.

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #3: Surreal

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content: lab whump, medical whump, captivity, accidentally getting outed as trans (dw nothing bad happens), gender dysphoria, nonsexual nudity, needles, top surgery, noncon drugging, manipulation mention, trans whumpee, intimate/creepy whumper, whumper as caretaker

when the whumper can excuse unethical experimentation but draws the line at gender dysphoria. there’s gonna be actual whump in the next chapter i swear, just had to get this stuff out of the way first :>

—

Dew waited until he heard Anton leave the room before he got in the shower. He was happy to have his binder off, but it was still terrifying not knowing what the future will be like for him here.

The bathroom door had no lock, which kinda sucked. He tossed the mud soaked hospital gown on the floor and hid his binder in the cabinet under the sink.

Anton seemed so upset at his poor attempt at an escape. Dew had never been so afraid of the mad scientist, well, it’s not like he knew him for that long anyway. How long had he been here? Two days? He’d get out of this soon, he was sure of it.

But he couldn’t stop that voice in his head telling him he’d ruined his only chances of escape. Anton had mentioned a punishment earlier, was he planning on hurting Dew every time he went against him?

Dew couldn’t stop his mind swarming with the terrible things he saw earlier, trying to block it out by the sound of the water raining down on him. After he washed all the mud off of him, he sat down and curled up in the corner, legs to his chest, feeling the water pour over his head. He didn’t want to think about this, didn’t want to think about being a mad scientist’s lab rat.

It was hard though, when that’s all he really could think about. What was this freak going to do? He hadn’t even started experimenting on Dew yet but he was already terrified. The suspense of not knowing was killing him. Dew tried to ignore it, tried to remind himself he wasn’t going to die here and he just had to wait for his next moment to escape. But how long would it take for that moment to come? How many experiments would Dew have to endure before he’d get another chance?

Dew’s internal monologue was interrupted when he heard the bathroom door open. Dew’s body went rigid, he felt like a deer in the headlights, staring at the shower curtain in the direction of the door, hoping Anton wouldn’t come near him.

“Don’t mind me, Dew,” Anton said nonchalantly. “I’m just replacing your clothes, I’ll leave in a sec—” There was a noise, as if a cabinet door was opening, and a confused hum. Shit.

“A-Anton?” Dew squeaked.

“Yeah, uh,” Anton stood, holding Dew’s binder. “I didn’t know… you’re trans?” Dew’s heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropping and feeling like his entire world was over. “Uh, I’ll go get you some other clothes… be right back.” The door shut, and Dew was left alone once again.

The suspense itself was killing him, if not the fact this captor literally knew Dew’s other only weakness. What would happen to him now? Dew tried to let the pressure of the water raining down on his head drown out his thoughts, but it seemed he just couldn’t stop worrying anymore.

Dew’s spiral was interrupted once again when he heard the door open, and more shuffling on the other side of the curtain. He didn’t dare say anything unless he wanted it to come out as incomprehensible sobs.

“I put some different clothes on the counter,” Anton said. Dew couldn’t decipher his tone, it sounded normal, if not a little awkward, but he never had any idea what the man was thinking. If he didn’t know any better, it sounded like his captor was a bit remorseful. “I’ll uh, talk to you when you’re done?”

Anton once again left Dew alone with his thoughts. He didn’t know what he preferred more, honestly. Being alone, his mind thinking of all the terrible things that could happen to him, or being around his captor, where those thoughts could easily become reality.

The only thing Dew could really do was be done now. The water was starting to get cold, and he didn’t want to anger the scientist any more by taking too long. He peeked his head out the curtain to see a baggy sweater and sweatpants. Different from his other clothes, but much better than what he was wearing before. He put them on, and stared at the door.

Dew was tired. He wasn’t going to wait anymore; he had to face what he did, who he was. He had to get it over with, whatever it was that Anton was going to do to him. It’d be over eventually, and Dew could curl up under the bed again.

When he opened the door to see Anton staring at him, sitting cross legged on the edge of the bed, Dew crumbled. Pretending to be strong was so hard when all he felt was fear.

“J-just let me go, please!” Dew cried, falling to his knees. He couldn’t do this anymore. He wanted to go home. He’d do anything at this point. “It’s— you don’t want me. I-I have too many problems you’d have to deal with, it would be too much of a hassle! J-just let me go and t-take someone else to use as your test subject, p-please.” He knew it was selfish, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t want to be a lab rat.

“Dew… I’m not mad,” Anton said. Dew still couldn’t read his tone, nor his facial expression. What was he gonna do to him? “And obviously I’m not letting you go either, you learned that earlier. And frankly I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

Dew let out a small sob, but otherwise stayed silent, eyes drifting away. He felt Anton’s stare, his eyes felt like lasers burning into him, the events of earlier hitting him like a truck. He tried to escape, and he was so close.

“I don’t know what terrible thing you thought I would do if I knew you were trans, but I’m not like that. I’m not a monster.” Pretty ironic coming from the guy who kidnapped someone with the intent of turning him into his lab rat. “If you need like, hormones or something, I’ll give you that. You’re my test subject but you’re still human. I want you to stay happy and comfortable for the most part, you know? This factor would just interfere with the experiments.” When Dew still didn’t answer, Anton sighed. Which made Dew flinch, which made Anton feel even more… guilty?

“…If it makes you feel any better, I’m trans too.” Anton had never come out to another person before, besides his mentor.

“Really?” Dew’s head snapped up, surprised. He had certainly never expected that to be his reaction.

“Yeah,” Anton sighed. “And it’s not healthy for you to wear that binder for that long, you should know that.”

“…Yeah I know.”

“Okay,” Anton rolled his eyes. “So why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“Because you’re a fucking weirdo scientist who kidnapped me.”

“Seriously—”

“I want my binder back- please.”

“No can do, Dew. Sorry, I had to get rid of all your old clothes.”

“What? Why?”

“Relax, I can get you a new one if you really need it, though, you know, top surgery would be more optimal.” Dew could not believe what he was hearing.

“Wait, you could get me top surgery?”

“Yeah, I performed it on myself years ago. It’s no big deal really, I have lots of serums that make healing go faster, and makes everything less painful too. I know what it’s like to be dysphoric—”

“I want it.”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Yes I want it.”

“…I guess I’m not in a huge rush to start the experiments just yet…” Dew stared in disbelief. Was this real? Was this a trick? “But Dew, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.” Oh. Just as fast as Dew’s weird excitement came, it was gone and replaced with dread.

“W-What?”

“You tried to escape earlier.” Shit. “I was going to punish you for it, but I changed my mind.”

“O-oh…” Dew gulped.

“That was your freebie, any other escape attempt, or attempt to hurt me, or attempt to communicate to anyone outside, you’ll regret it. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes,” Dew shuddered under his gaze. No way in hell was he giving up just like that, but he’d keep his thoughts of escape to himself now. He just had to wait until the right moment came.

. . .

Anton “scheduled” the surgery for tomorrow, whatever that meant. It’s not like he had a real job or other responsibilities. Dew wondered how this guy could even afford a place like this, with all this expensive equipment and science stuff. Were his experiments being funded by an outside source? Oh god, that was a terrifying thought, the government being behind all this. Dew would have to ask about that later.

Everything felt so surreal. It always had, but now it was different. He didn’t know what he expected from his captor anymore, not after today.

Anton had told him he wouldn’t “punish” him for trying to escape earlier, pretending to understand what he was going through and that he’d “been there.” But he also warned, in his usual cryptically threatening ways, that if Dew makes any more escape attempts, there will be consequences. And that he didn’t want to know what Anton would do to him.

He also remembered earlier, when Anton was showing Dew all of those terrible experiments and lab equipment, and hinting at all of the terrible things he would do to Dew once he starts experimenting on him. He remembered what he was really here for, and that terrified him. No matter how “kind” Anton sometimes seemed, for some reason, he was still a stranger who wanted to hurt Dew. He was still the guy who took him from his friends and home.

And now he wanted to give Dew something he’s always wanted, his whole life, that he never expected to get, at least anytime soon. He worked a dead-end minimum wage job; he couldn’t possibly afford anything like this, and now it was being handed over to him like it was no big deal— from his abductor, no less. It didn’t make any sense. Anton took Dew’s life away, but he still wanted to keep him happy and comfortable in his body? His body that was surly to be changed by these experiments anyway? What was the point of all this?

Maybe it was because Anton’s trans too, and it would be easier for him if Dew was comfortable in his body. It’d be easier for him if he gave something Dew had always wanted, so he’d have some leverage over him— some reason for Dew to be in his debt. Dew knew that his captor wanted him to trust him, to be compliant in being experimented on, for some demented reason. But Dew wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t ever going to give up his freedom for this guy, hell, he didn’t even know what the scientist’s goal was for him.

But now Anton had suggested that Dew get top surgery, and who was he to decline an offer like that? Dew knew it was probably a way to manipulate him, but he didn’t care. He’d always wanted this, and now, even if it was a sick and twisted way, he was happy he was getting it. He was still planning on not sticking around this place, escaping the next chance he got. But he also wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. Maybe if he kept learning more things about Anton, or vice versa, he’d keep going easy on him.

After all, he needed Anton to trust him, if he was ever going to get a chance to escape.

Dew didn’t know what time it was now, but it had to be pretty late. Anton told him he’d leave him alone for the rest of the day, that he should rest from the events from earlier. He tried that, but his mind was too active. He obviously couldn’t rest knowing what was going to happen to him tomorrow, so he was once again alone with his thoughts for a few hours until he heard the familiar footsteps coming towards the room.

Anton unlocked the door and walked in, holding a sandwich and some water. Dew hesitantly looked up from his spot on the bed, still terrified of the man.

“Here,” Anton said, holding the food out for Dew to take it, who chose to glare at the scientist instead. “Seriously? If I wanted you drugged, I’d just stick a needle in your arm. Just eat it.” He emphasized that by ripping a part off the sandwich and eating it himself, showing Dew that it was safe. He wondered how much longer Dew would be stubborn about not trusting his food.

As Dew ate, Anton kept staring. He did that a lot, Dew noticed. Dew tried to stare back, but the eye contact was way too uncomfortable sometimes.

“You really don’t talk much, do you?” Anton asked.

“I dunno.”

“When was your last T shot?” Shit. Dew wanted to avoid this today, but he supposed it was inevitable. He knew he needed to stay on schedule, but he really didn’t want this guy around him with needles, even for good reasons.

“…A week ago.” There was no point in lying about it though.

“Oh, so you need one today, then?” Anton asked. Dew nodded. “Alright.” The scientist left the room, locking the door behind him, and arrived shortly after with the stuff.

Dew, excited for something familiar in his routine since all this happened, was also terrified because that scientist was holding a needle again. The only other person he’d let give him his T shot was his doctor the first day, and then only he could. It was still hard for him, having to inject himself with a needle, but it was better than anyone else doing it.

Dew reached out to take the syringe, “I can do it,” he said.

“Dew, you’re shaking. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“W-well I don’t want you to do it!”

“Why not?” Was it really not obvious?

“I- It’s my T shot, I’ve done it like a million times before! I’ve been doing this for over three years now— just let me do it.”

Anton knew how scared his test subject was of needles, for reasons he didn’t understand. He supposed it would be easier to let Dew do it, considering he’d done it all those times before. But he still didn’t want Dew to get away with everything he wanted. His test subject would have to learn to do as Anton says.

“I’ll do it. You need to learn not to resist me. I won’t always go easy on you like today, you know.”

“Fine,” Dew said through gritted teeth. “Just get it over with.”

“We also need to work on your little fear of needles you have.” Anton said, prepping the needle and bringing it closer as Dew flinched. “It certainly makes things much harder than it needs to be.”

“I get it.” Dew sucked in a shaking breath as Anton rolled up his pants to expose his thigh. He was shaking in fear, he realized, Anton was right about that.

“Why are you so scared of needles anyway?” Anton asked as he plunged the needle into Dew’s leg.

“I- I dunno.” Dew squeezed his eyes shut, wishing this would go faster. Anton’s grip tightened on him as he leaned away, trying to stop the tears from flowing.

“Weird.” When Anton was done, he stood and started to leave. Dew let out a sigh of relief, finally alone.

“Asshole,” Dew whispered under his breath, thinking Anton couldn’t hear. That wasn’t the case, as the scientist suddenly whirled around and took Dew’s wrist in a grip, turning his test subject to face him.

“I let your escape attempt earlier slide because you’ve only been here only two days, and I… felt a bit of remorse. Gender dysphoria’s a bitch, so I’m trying to get rid of that obstacle for us. But know, I can do anything to you. You’re still just my test subject, know your place. If you try to escape, you will wish you didn’t.”

“J-Jeez okay, s-sorry!” Dew stuttered. Anton released his grip and exited the room.

“Get some rest, big day tomorrow.” The scientist said, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

. . .

Dew could hardly sleep that night, his mind racing with thoughts of the surgery. It was really happening, wasn’t it? A part of him knew he shouldn’t trust his captor, especially with something like this. What if he was lying? What if it was a trick to get Dew to agree to some terrible experimentation? Dew had to admit, it didn’t matter if he thought Anton was lying or not, because he was still going to accept that offer. There was a small chance that Anton was telling the truth, that he’d give Dew something he’d wanted all his life, and Dew wasn’t going to decline.

Besides, if Anton was that desperate to experiment on Dew, he could easily force his test subject to do anything without being able to stop him.

Dew realized it had to be Monday by now, and that his friends and coworkers were sure to notice he was gone. That gave him some hope, that maybe he’d be rescued soon. He just had to keep waiting it out, as he kept telling himself. He’d see Hayden, Layla and Sawyer again soon, and maybe tell them what he’d been waiting to for so long. He didn’t realize how much he missed them.

Dew didn’t get a lick of sleep that night. He was used to nights like that, he’d always been a sort of insomniac. He hoped Anton wouldn’t notice, but that was unlikely. It was morning before he knew it, and the clicks of the locks took Dew out of his racing mind.

Dew didn’t wait under the bed after Anton entered the room this time. He timidly crawled out before Anton said anything, too full of energy to stay still any longer.

“Big day, Dew.” Anton said with a big, unsettling grin on his face. “You excited?” Dew gulped. What was he thinking, trusting this maniac like this against his better judgment?

“Y-yeah,” Dew said. “I guess.” Anton’s eyes narrowed, looking his test subject up and down.

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Um, n-not really?”

“Huh. I’ll deal with that later. C’mon, let’s go then.”

“W-wait, I wanted to ask something, i-if that’s okay.” Dew fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sweater, and when Anton made a ‘go on’ gesture, he continued. He made sure to choose his words slowly and carefully. “I know I… I remember what you said yesterday. But um- I uh, I’m wandering if I can make a phone call? To- to tell my friends I’m okay… I d-don’t want them to worry about me. I miss them.”

That was at least half of the truth. Anton looked in a much better mood than yesterday, so maybe he’d recognize Dew’s sorrow and let him say goodbye to his friends, hopefully not realizing that Dew’s real plan was to somehow tell them he was in trouble and get someone to track the phone call.

“Dew,” it turned out that Anton had seen right through Dew’s half-assed plan, suddenly looking serious with his cold gaze locked onto his test subject. “Forget about them. Your home is here now, you’re not leaving. If I have to repeat this one more time, you’ll regret it. Understand?” Dew looked away, shuffling on his feet and trying to think of anything to say to convince his captor to go easy on him.

The silence seemed to anger Anton more, grabbing Dew’s chin in his hands, tilting his head up to look at him. It was intense, every time Dew made eye contact with the scientist, it was intense. Something about him, something about his eyes- it didn’t feel human. Dew didn’t know how to describe this feeling, but it terrified him. He felt like prey cornered by a predator, as if it was playing with its food. He remembered Anton asked him a question, and quickly nodded his head before he could scare him further.

“Say it. Say it and mean it.” When Dew hesitated, Anton moved his hand to rest on his test subject’s throat, squeezing lightly. It didn’t hurt, but the threat was known.

“I-I won’t leave,” Dew forced out, his mind screaming at him not to let himself believe it. “I won’t try to escape or- or contact anyone for help. Or ask to contact my f-friends, or anything like that.” When Anton still looked at him expectantly, Dew knew what he had to say next, though he was never going to mean it. “I-I’m your test subject now. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Good,” Anton released his grip and turned away towards the door, seemingly going back to normal as if none of that terrifying encounter had just happened. “Let’s go already.”

Dew followed Anton out the door, after he took the chain off his ankle and tied rope around his wrists and ankles this time, so he wouldn’t run. Dew was too sleep deprived and strangely excited to care about that terrifying lack of mobility out there, causing him no way to escape.

Dew once again reminded himself this was probably a manipulation tactic, and the odds were more than likely Anton was just going to preform some fucked up experiment on him instead. He remained cautious, glancing to the exit, reminding himself of yesterday. Reminding himself the same plan wouldn’t work, he’d have to think of something different another day, when he got a different chance.

They arrived at that operating table, and Anton stood to the side, gesturing Dew to lay down, to which he timidly did.

“So, um, h-how are you gonna do this?” Dew asked nervously as Anton walked around the table, picking up a few restraints. “It- it won’t be painful or anything, right?”

“You won’t feel a thing,” Anton said, smiling as he started restraining Dew to the table. He strapped his arms and legs down, making it impossible for his test subject to move. Once Dew realized what was happening, his struggles came too late, the terror of his situation finally catching up to him.

“W-What’s with the restraints?” Dew asked, voice shaking. He almost didn’t want to know the answer.

“It helps me relax,” Anton said nonchalantly, moving out of Dew’s line of sight.

“Okay, that makes absolutely zero sense, but whatever.” Dew tried to calm his nerves, but it felt impossible when all he could think about was this all being a trick to get him to agree to being directed like some alien’s research specimen.

“Calm down, I won’t hurt you, you know.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Dew continued struggling against his better judgment, hating being restrained like this. “Th-This isn’t a trick, right?”

“Dew, if I wanted to experiment on you, I’d just do it. It wouldn’t matter if you agree to it or not, because you’re mine. But no, this isn’t a trick. I’m not like that. You want top surgery, right?”

“Yeah!—”

“Great, then stay still.” Anton brought another dreaded syringe in Dew’s line of sight, and he held his breath in anticipation. Of course he knew this was coming, and he honestly sighed with relief knowing he’d be knocked out soon. He realized Anton could easily just operate on Dew while he was fully awake and conscious, feeling every cut, incision, and pain that came with it.

Dew closed his eyes as he felt the injection, and slowly started drifting away. The last thing he heard before succumbing to the anesthetic was a soft, “Goodnight, Dewey,” and then he was out.

. . .

Dew woke up a few seconds (hours) later, back in the room he’d been stuck in, lying snugly in bed and covered in the softest of blankets. His mind was groggy, and he could barely sense someone standing over him. There was pain, but it was dull, hardly noticeable. He honestly felt comfy there, relaxed and warm and without that blinding fluorescent light that would always shine in his eyes.

Right.

Dew slowly opened his eyes and tried to move into a sitting position, but found his body far too weak, and also felt a strange weight off his chest. That made sense. He felt a firm hand moving to hold him down to the bed, telling him he needed to rest. That was probably a good idea.

When Dew’s mind cleared enough to remember what was going on, he almost couldn’t believe it. His chest was flat, they were gone. He had just gotten something he’d always wanted.

Then why was he filled with so much dread?

Dew should be happy. He should be relieved. No more gender dysphoria. No more hiding in oversized hoodies or being forced to wear a binder all day. He was finally in a body that felt like his, he wasn’t trapped anymore. But yet he was, in a completely different way.

He should be with his friends right now, laughing and smiling and celebrating. Hayden would be holding his hand with his pet ball python on his shoulder, cheering him up and lightening the mood as he always would. Layla would be lovingly info-dumping about a special interest of hers, as usual, but in a way that made him feel loved as well, with her cat purring in his lap. Sawyer… He’d definitely be there too, cracking jokes and playing video games in the corner, too awkward for his own good, but that’s what Dew loved about him.

But that wasn’t what was happening. Dew was all alone and afraid in a scary place with the man who kidnapped him. He wasn’t with his friends, he wasn’t celebrating or eating cake or hugging his friends or listening to music. He was alone.

His friends must’ve been worried sick. Dew wondered if anyone was looking for him. He didn’t know what to feel, he’d always wanted this but… not like this. None of it was right, he didn’t belong here and he had to leave. He had to tell everyone the good news, he had to tell them that he—

Anton was in the room, and Dew almost felt like he could hear his spiral. He forced himself to calm down and stop thinking about home, it was too painful right now. He needed something real, something tangible to latch onto, otherwise he’d deteriorate.

“I’m th-thirsty,” Dew rasped. That was a good start. Focus on anything else.

Anton handed him a glass of water that must’ve been on the nightstand, and Dew gulped it down eagerly, ignoring the sudden sleepiness he felt, and the way his eyelids felt far too heavy to keep open all of a sudden.

. . .

The next week was spent with Dew resting in bed, relying on his captor for everything, and it felt humiliating. He absolutely hated it.

The scientist told him that the healing process would go much faster than usual, because of what could only be described as some sort of healing potion he had concocted. Dew didn’t care for science, and he certainly had no interest in listening to Anton explain it, much less trying to understand what he was explaining.

But he was right, the recovery was quick. Though, Dew was filled with drugs and painkillers and even sedatives, after he resisted succumbing to the sleepy effects of the healing concoction and falling asleep.

What was worse, was that when Dew was awake, he could hardly move anyway. The first few days of recovery was spent relying on Anton for everything. Being hand fed food, water, having to be carried to the bathroom, he hated being so dependent on the guy holding him captive.

It was a few days after the surgery, when Anton came into Dew’s room to feed him. Dew hated to admit it, but he was starting to get lonely by himself, and started to look forward to when Anton would come to see him. It wasn’t like he had anyone to talk to or anything to do besides stare at the ceiling and count the seconds.

“You hungry?” Anton asked, a bowl of chicken noodle soup in hand.

“Yeah,” Dew said, getting used to this new routine. He was excited for when he’d finally be recovered enough to do, well, anything for himself again. And sleep under the bed, away from the open space, bright lights, and the scientist.

Anton sat at the edge of the bed and helped Dew sit up, taking a spoonful of the soup and raising it to Dew’s mouth. He hated this, it was excruciatingly hard not to curse his captor out whenever he fed him like this, but he realized it only helped gain Anton’s trust. Which of course, he needed.

Dew sighed and moved his mouth to the spoon, eating the contents of it. He felt like a doll Anton was playing with, or some animal he was training to be nice and docile, not the wild animal yearning for freedom that it was.

Dew learned to just let Anton do what he wanted, and it was easier to just get it over with than let it ride out forever. Arguing with the scientist never worked, so what was the point? When Dew was done eating, instead of Anton getting up to leave, he began to speak.

“It’s been a few days, you probably need a bath, huh?” Hell the fuck no.

And then Dew was being carried to the bathroom, helped out of his clothes, and gently set in the bathtub. He hated absolutely everything about this. The scientist seemed to not notice- or care- about Dew flinching as he raised his hands to Dew’s head.

“Relax, Dew,” Anton said gently, carding his hands slowly through Dew’s fluffy hair as he washed it thoroughly. Dew hated that he let himself lean into the touch (he blamed that on the drugs), the only nice touch he had gotten since he’d been thrown into this place.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was almost fully submerged under the water, his body not visible under the bubbles. Dew closed his eyes, imagining himself anywhere else, with anyone else doing this to him. He felt a warm rag slowly wiping away the grime on his face, wincing as he let it happen. He couldn’t help but find it relaxing when Anton poured warm water over his head, rinsing away the shampoo from his hair.

And then it was time for Anton to check how his body was healing, which was fine with Dew because he didn’t really feel any gender dysphoria anymore. After the bath, Anton helped Dew stand and gently wrapped a towel around his body, and used another towel to dry his hair off.

It all felt so surreal, once again. Why was his captor being so nice to him? Why did he care so much about how Dew felt about any of this, about his mental well being? Was he trying to manipulate Dew into wanting to stay here? Because it was… Not working.

Sure, it was nice. And Dew didn’t remember the last time he’d been treated like this, without having to worry about responsibilities like work or chores. But he was still being held against his will. And he could not let himself forget about his status here, as a test subject. As the week went on, and that healing stuff did its magic, Dew was only filled with more dread for the future. He could tell that Anton was getting antsy too, excited to finally be able to start experimenting on his little lab rat.

Besides eating, using the toilet, and the few baths he was given, Dew spent most of his recovery from the surgery unconscious. He argued against it, but Anton told him it meant the healing potion— what Dew chose to call it— was doing its job.

Dew guessed it could be worse. He was kinda happy he was unconscious for most of his recovery, in a strange way. Dew hated being in pain, and sleeping it away basically meant it was never there to begin with. He didn’t like the fact that he was losing count of the days though, and was more than frustrated that Anton refused to give Dew a calendar.

It was about a week and a half since the surgery, and Dew was already fully back to normal. He reminded himself that he was supposed to be scared of Anton, and started sleeping under his bed again to avoid the guy. Whatever terrible experiments the scientist was planning would surely start soon, and Dew was more than terrified. He just hoped they wouldn’t be too painful, and that he’d get out of here soon. Maybe this whole experience would just end up being free top surgery and a small vacation from work, and then he’d get rescued and could forget any of this ever happened. That would be nice.

One more thing lingered in the test subject’s mind. He didn’t understand why Anton was so adamant on taking his clothes and belongings away from him. It wasn’t like he was too picky about what Dew wore now anyway, just a few different sweaters and sweatpants when he wasn’t bedridden in recovery. But there had to be a reason, right?

Dew hummed some of his favorite songs to himself, missing his music. Despite everything, he hated being alone. He couldn’t stop thinking about his friends now, wishing he had spent more time with them the week before he was taken. He just wanted to go home.

—

this chapter was not very whumpy but like, necessary for the story and stuff. now that the boring stuff is out of the way, the test subject can actually start being experimented on soon :) fun stuff.

taglist: @whumpinthepot @shywhumpauthor @whump-me-all-night-long @whump321 @fuckcapitalismasshole @sorry-i-spaced @theelvishcowgirl

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[katnisspeetaprim]

Privacy Part 2 Yoongi/Reader

Summary: Y/N is finding it difficult to deal with the hatred she is recieving thans to those videos.

Warnings: anxiety, swearing, slut shaming, suggestive content, female reader

Word count: 2419 M.list

‘It’s fine Mom really, I don’t need to come home.’ Your Mom had been trying to get you to travel back home ever since the news broke. You’d been trying your best to avoid her calls, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to ignore your family forever. Honestly your mother hadn’t really been much help during the whole situation in fact, Yoongi’s own mother had been much more of a comfort to you. 2 days ago just after you found out, Yoongi’s mother had called you. Apparently she had already spoken to her son but wanted to make sure that you were ok also. You locked yourself in the bathroom so Yoongi wouldn’t hear you sobbing down the phone to his Mom. He definitely heard you.

‘I’m worried Y/N. I know you said it’s being handled but that doesn’t do anything to calm me down.’

‘Worried for me or your reputation?’ You mumbled to yourself. ‘Listen Mom, me and Yoongi just want our own space right now.’ You explained, wanting nothing more than to end the conversation.

‘Ok. I’ll let you go for now but I’m still going to be calling for updates.’

‘Ok mom. Bye.’ With that the call ended. As you pulled the phone from your ear, you couldn’t help but stare at the many notifications on your home screen.

You knew that you shouldn’t be looking at your social media right now, Yoongi knew full well what the fallout would be and he didn’t want you exposed to that kind of hate.... But you couldn’t help it.The unseen force of morbid curiosity too strong, as it pushed you to open the Twitter app and see what kind of awful names you were being called.

Slut and whore were some of the most prominent insults being thrown around. Though not very creative the words still stung you. You had been with Yoongi since early 2015, 8 years together and you were being called a slut for it. You also couldn’t help but notice that nobody had anything bad to say about Yoongi, in fact he was getting nothing but praise for how he’s handled the situation so far. You’d never wish hate on the love of your life, but you couldn’t help but scoff at the double standard people online held.

The things that disgusted you the most though were the people sharing their disgusting fantasies about the videos. It made you physically sick. Why would someone feel it was ok to comment about how hot or turned on they were by somebody’s leaked sex tapes? Or feel the need to talk about different parts of your bodies like you were a science experiment?

The company had been fast to put out a statement about what was happening. Bang PD personally assured the two of you that their best lawyers had been put on the case.

The other boys had also been especially supportive. All just generally trying to be there for the two of you if you needed a shoulder to cry on, and nobody talked about the videos unless either you or Yoongi bough them up first.

Both you and Yoongi had tried to go on as normal at first, but you couldn’t shake the nagging voice at the back of your mind.

'Y/N? Tae called, asked if we’d like to go round for drinks later.’ Yoongi stepped into the bedroom just in time to see you hurrying to shut off your phone. He stared at you in disbelief.

‘You were looking again, weren’t you?’ He accused glaring at you from the doorway, though he already knew the answer. When you didn’t answer and refused to meet his gaze, he threw his hands up in the air.

‘Y/N there is a reason we were told to stay of social media. Shit like this.’ He angrily snatched your phone from you so he could see what you were looking at. He was in disbelief that you wold continue to torture yourself like this.

‘Are you going to say anything!?’ He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes when you still refused to speak.

‘Y/N I swear-‘

‘You don’t get it.’ You cut him off, voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your skirt.

‘Are you insane? Of course I get-‘ Yoongi was about to start yelling before you cut him off.

‘No you don’t Yoongi!’ You snapped, finally looking up to see his shocked face.

‘I know you are upset and scared and angry, I’m not debating that!’ You let out a shaky breath as you paused to calm down, not sure if you wanted to continue.

‘What then?’ He hesitantly made his way back over and sat on the bed next to you. You also hesitated for a moment before you sat up on your knees to face him, cupping his hands.

‘All this hate I see, all the horrible names and words...It’s all directed at me.’ Yoongi’s face softened at your words, immediately understanding your anger.

‘Ah Y/N...’ He started but you quickly cut him off.

‘It’s not that I want people to say that stuff about you...I just don’t understand why people have to be so cruel towards me . After how long we’ve been together.’ The tears started to fall once again. That’s all you seemed to be doing these days, crying. You felt pathetic for lack of a better word. Yoongi pulled you into his strong arms, trying to give you any kind of comfort he could.

‘I’m so sorry. If I could take an of this pain away then I would in a heartbeat.’

‘No I’m sorry. I’m being selfish making this about only me when you are upset too.’ You angled your head to place it in the crook of his neck. His scent  always did do wonders in calming you down.

‘Listen.’ He broke the silence. ‘I’ve been called in for a meeting today with Bang PD.’ He pulled back to look at you properly.

‘You don’t have to come but it might be good for us to both be on the same page.’ You also sat up to face him. It would definitely put your mind at ease if you could see what kind of progress had been made, though it didn’t make facing people any easier...

‘And we can go to Tae’s right after?’ You mumbled, looking at him through your eyelashes. The idea of drinks sounded pretty good right now.

‘If that’s what you want.’ He nodded eagerly at you. ‘As long as you don’t mind the other boys being there too?’

‘No. It will be good to see them.’ And you really meant it. If anyone could distract you for a few hours, its those goofy guys.

Once the two of you arrived at the BigHit offices, you were both ushered straight into Bang PD’s office.

‘Y/N it’s great to see you it’s been a while, please.’ He gestured for you to take a seat at his desk, Yoongi doing the same.

‘So I wont beat around the bush. We all know why we are here.’ Yoongi reached his hand out and placed it on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze.

‘Most of the sites we sent cease and desists to have co operated and removed the videos. We are still working on cracking some of them but it’s a start. Plus we have been blacklisting any online account associated with the videos.’ Both you and Yoongi were listening intently. Even though this was a small victory, you were both overjoyed that you were getting somewhere.

‘That’s good news isn’t it?’ Yoongi spoke up from beside you.

‘Yes most definitely, however.’ There always had to be a but didn’t there? Your eyebrows knotted together as you continued to listen. ‘We still don’t know how or why this happened or who is responsible. Our lawyers are in contact with the Las Vegas police, but until they have any leads , we’re in the dark I’m afraid.’ Your shoulders sagged at the news and you gripped Yoongi’s hand on your thigh tightly. There was a person out there that had the raw uncut video file of those daysyou spent in the hotel. About 4 hours in total of footage had been released so far of the two of you, but nobody knows for sure how much footage actually exists. Those cameras must have ben there for at least a week after all...

It didn’t actually hit you that a person was behind this until this very meeting. Of course in the back of your mind you knew, but you just wished people would be better.

‘Yoongi, I’m gonna wait outside if that’s ok? He sent  a worried look your way before nodding and saying that he shouldn’t be much longer.

‘Thank you for coming down Y/N. I promise we wont stop until everything is fixed.’ Bang PD  bowed his head slightly to you and you did the same before rushing from the room. You made your way back to the waiting room and plopped yourself down in the chair most out of the way. Your phone had been buzzing during the meeting.

You couldn’t stop the roll of your eyes as you read over your moms texts. She had never liked Yoongi  for reasons unknown to you. He had been nothing but respectful to your family any time you had been forced to interact with them, but she just refused to accept your relationship. You didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn’t help but think that your mother held Yoongi under some racist stereotype that she refused to let go of. It was the only thing you could think of as to why she would hate him so much.

It was only when you threatened to cut off all contact with her did she back off a little. Her last message really made your blood boil though. Of course she only cared about her own image. You knew she didn’t really care how you got effected, as long as nobody thought ill of her everything would be fine in her world.

‘Hey you ok? Yoongis steady voice pulled you from your thoughts. ‘You look upset.’

‘It’s nothing.’ You huffed out, quickly tucking away your phone. ‘It’s just my mom again. Let’s go, I’m dying for a drink.’ He sighed  to himself before following behind you.

You were able to let loose a little at Tae’s get together. The alcohol you had consumed allowing you to relax and have fun with your friends. Yoongi stayed sober that night to drive. He knew you needed the escape more than he did right now.

When you both arrived home later that night, both you and Yoongi felt like some weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

‘I had a lot of fun tonight.’ You turned to face Yoongi, placing your arms round his shoulders and flashed him a small smile.

‘I’m glad. We both needed it.’ He returned your smile. Yoongi gently placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close to him, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You happily leaned into him, enjoying the intimacy. You and Yoongi hadn’t had sex with each other since you returned home to Korea for obvious reasons. Even though you knew it was impossible, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still being watched. That somebody had managed to break into your home and place cameras there too. This paranoia was still at the front of your mind, regardless of the alcohol in your system.

‘Let’s go to the bedroom.’ You whispered . Yoongi nodded slightly in response. Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest as you made out with Yoongi. Both of you now only in your underwear as you straddled him. His hands kneaded your ass as yours got lost in his hair. You wanted this, you really did but you couldn’t stop the panic from bubbling up to the surface.

‘We don’t have to do this you know.’ Yoongi pulled away from you when he felt you stiffen above him.

‘No I want to, it’s just...’ You were quick to answer him but trailed off, not really sure how to voice your concern.

‘I get it. You don’t need to explain.’ He spoke softly, stroking your face as he did. You gave him a sad smile as you leaned back in to kiss him.

‘I love you so much Yoongi.’

‘I love you too jagi.’ As the kiss deepened, you pulled back again, resting your forehead on his.

‘Do you mind if we turn out the lights? And get under the covers?’ You bit your lip, nervous that he would think you were being ridiculous. But the judgement didn’t come. He quickly shimmed the sheets out from beneath the two of you and draped them round your hips, before reaching out and flicking off the bed side light, submerging the two of you in darkness. The two of you shared a wonderful night together, heads full of thoughts only of one another.

The next morning, you awoke alone in the bed. It was still early so you sat up confused. You got up and dressed before making your way to the kitchen, only to find Yoongi sat in the living room. He wasn’t dressed, only wearing the boxers he had thrown on the night before. He was just staring at the wall, hard look on his face as he was deep in thought.

‘Hey... Why did you get up so early?’ You sat down next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest. ‘Yoongi?’ You tried again when he didn’t answer.

‘I got a call from one of the lawyers just now.’ You sat up straight, attention captured. You gestured for him to continue.

‘They found the person who planted the cameras.’ Your eyes widened in shock at his bluntness.

‘What!? H-how...’ You could barely talk. This was a good thing right?

‘They want us to come into the office asap for a meeting.’

‘Yes of course! Let me um, I’m just gonna make myself presentable.’ He could hear the waver in your voice as you sprang up.

‘You should get dressed too.’ He watched you practically sprint into the bedroom. He rubbed his hand across his face, stress building up. He didn’t want to get his hopes up for the meeting, just for them to be shot down.