#but in her MGS she comes across as

[thedensworld]

Why Women Kill | K. Mg

Genre: Mistery, Smut

Summary: your husband of 2 years was found dead while you were away. Kim Mingyu, the detective, try to help you find the truth.

The maid immediately dialed emergency services when she found her master lying lifeless in the dining room. Meanwhile, you, the wife of the house, were in your hometown when the devastating news broke. As soon as you stepped foot in the house, you were met with the sight of police officers investigating the scene. The circumstances of your husband’s death had led them to suspect foul play—potential murder.

A tall man introduced himself as Detective Kim, accompanied by Detective Hong. They both approached you as you stood at the entrance, your luggage still in hand. The devastation on your face was unmistakable, a combination of the long flight from abroad and the shocking news had clearly shaken you.

"I'm so sorry for what has happened to your husband, but we need your full cooperation during the investigation," Detective Hong said gently, before outlining the procedures that would follow in light of your husband's sudden death. His voice was professional yet compassionate, understanding the weight of the tragedy you were facing.

"Please, let us drive you to the place where you'll be staying," Detective Hong offered. "It’s the least we can do for you right now."

"I'm afraid it would be an inconvenience..." you started to protest, your voice weak, but Detective Hong insisted.

The three of you made your way toward the car. Detective Kim took your luggage, his silent demeanor revealing a quiet respect. As you walked, Detective Hong engaged you in conversation, asking about your husband.

"I'm sorry," Detective Hong suddenly said, glancing at his phone. "Mr. Choi needs to see me right away. Mingyu, is it alright to drive alone?"

"Of course," Detective Kim replied politely, opening the car door for you. "Please, Mrs. Moon."

As you settled into the passenger seat, Detective Hong, whose full name was Hong Jisoo, tapped Detective Kim on the shoulder. "Mingyu, I trust you with this. You’re a skilled profiler—I hope you pick up on anything during the drive."

"I’ll do my best, hyung," Mingyu replied with a determined nod.

Later that night, Mingyu and Jisoo reconvened at the police station to discuss the case. Moon Junhui, a renowned celebrity chef, was now the subject of a murder investigation.

"The forensic results should be in by tomorrow," Jisoo informed the team. "It’s hard not to feel for Mrs. Moon. She was on vacation in her hometown, and now she comes back to find her husband might’ve been murdered."

"During our conversation, she seemed like a devoted wife," Jisoo continued, his gaze flicking toward Mingyu. "She sacrificed a lot after settling down with Moon Junhui. Did you notice anything suspicious about her while driving her to the hotel?"

Mingyu leaned back, thoughtful. "Just like you said, hyung—she seemed lost, devastated even. But I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Still, I don’t want to jump to conclusions until we get the forensic results."

The next day, the results came in. Moon Junhui had died from arsenic poisoning, found in his system. The investigation kicked into high gear, and police began interviewing those closest to the victim, including Jung Seyeon, the maid who had found him.

"What was your relationship with the victim?" Detective Kim asked Seyeon as she sat across from him in the station.

"I work for him. I’ve been his maid for about a year now."

"And what happened on the day you found him?"

"My shift starts at 6 AM, and I usually stay until the next morning. Mrs. Moon wasn’t in town, and Mr. Moon is typically at his restaurant until 10 PM. But when I went to check the kitchen, I found him lying on the floor and immediately called emergency services."

Mingyu scribbled down notes. "You mentioned your shift starts at 6, but you called emergency at 5. Why did you arrive an hour early?"

Seyeon nodded quickly. "Mr. Moon asked me to come early that day to get groceries to stock the fridge."

"Your husband was found dead after drinking a cup of coffee he supposedly made himself. He was estimated to have died around 3 AM, but wasn't discovered until 5. Can you tell me anything about your husband’s habits that might help us?"

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you tried to keep your composure. "I—I’m not sure why he was home so early. He’s usually at the restaurant late into the night. I’m usually home alone."

"But he did—he does love coffee. He couldn’t go a day without it."

"Is it common for him to drink coffee around that time?" Jisoo asked, his tone gentle but probing.

You shook your head. "No, not at all. He’s normally at work. But I always made his coffee in the mornings."

"What time would that be?" Jisoo pressed.

"Jun’s an early riser. He usually had his coffee around 7 AM, before his morning workout."

You hesitated, then added, "He also preferred his coffee made with bottled water, never tap."

Both Jisoo and Mingyu’s attention sharpened at that. It was a small detail, but potentially significant. The tap water—or the bottle—could be a key to unraveling this mystery.

*

Who would have thought that a maid, secretly having an affair with her employer, could murdered him out of jealousy toward his wife? The case involving the popular couple—Moon Junhui, the celebrity chef, and Ji Y/N, a former actress—shocked the nation. The story immediately went viral, flooding the internet with comments as netizens discussed the tragic events that had unfolded.

The police had finally unraveled the tangled web of deception. They revealed to the public that a woman with the initials JSY—Jung Seyeon, the maid—had laced one of the water bottles in Jun's fridge with arsenic. The poison had originally been intended for his wife, but fate had intervened, and Jun himself drank from the bottle instead. When Jung Seyeon was apprehended, the footage of her resisting arrest and furiously denying the charges went viral, fueling the public's fascination with the case. The world watched in disbelief as the truth unfolded, and messages of sympathy poured in for you—the true victim in the entire ordeal.

Now, you sat across from Detectives Jisoo and Mingyu, the weight of revelation hanging heavy in the air between you. Jisoo had just asked about the state of your relationship with Jun in the months leading up to his death.

"I don’t think I should talk about this, especially since the investigation is officially over," you said softly, your voice tinged with exhaustion.

Jisoo shook his head gently. "I understand, and I don’t mean to press. But you did mention earlier… you said you couldn’t get pregnant? And that your relationship shifted after that?"

Your gaze fell to the floor, the pain of the past months bubbling up inside. "I don’t want this to be public knowledge. He was… someone I used to love, even though he cheated on me in the end. I can’t deny that, for a long time, he was a husband I loved." Your voice cracked with emotion.

Jisoo looked at you, sympathy in his eyes, before he nodded slowly. "I understand. We’re very thankful for your cooperation. Please, if there’s anything you need during this time, don’t hesitate to reach out."

With that, Jisoo and Mingyu quietly excused themselves, leaving the hotel room and giving you the privacy you so desperately needed.

As they walked down the hallway, Jisoo let out a long breath. "She’s an amazing woman," he murmured, the weight of everything they had learned settling on him. "I just don’t understand why Jun would cheat on her."

Mingyu nodded in agreement. "It’s a tragedy. But at least the truth is finally out."

"Yeah," Jisoo replied, "at least now she can start to heal."

*

Meeting you again felt like a miracle. The once-hopeful theater student you had been had blossomed into one of the top actresses in the country. Your face was everywhere—on billboards, magazine covers, and in TV commercials. You were known not only for your beauty but for your incredible acting talent. Mingyu couldn’t help but feel proud as he watched you move effortlessly through the crowd at the college reunion for the photography club. He had been there during your early struggles, and seeing you now made him realize how far you’d come.

After mingling with old friends, you finally made your way over to him. “Hey, how are you?” you asked, your voice soft yet familiar.

Mingyu smiled, his heart skipping a beat. “I’m great. You look amazing today.”

You smiled back, a gentle warmth in your eyes. “Thank you. How’s your work, Mr. Detective?” you teased, your playful tone bringing back memories of the past. Mingyu chuckled softly, feeling a rush of nostalgia.

“How do you know?” he asked, biting his inner cheek to stop himself from grinning too widely.

“I saw your promotion in the newspaper. Congratulations,” you replied.

Mingyu’s heart skipped again. You had still been keeping tabs on him, even after all these years. “Thank you,” he said. “I watched your last movie in the cinema. You were incredible.”

You laughed lightly. “That was two years ago. I haven’t been in anything since then.”

Mingyu nodded, recalling how you had become more elusive since your marriage to celebrity chef Moon Junhui. You had once been everywhere, but now you rarely appeared on TV or in public.

Despite the years and the changes in your lives, the conversation flowed easily, as if no time had passed. By the end of the night, you and Mingyu had exchanged contact information, rekindling a connection that had been dormant for years. This time, it was different—friendlier, warmer, but without the romantic tension that had once existed between you.

In the following days, Mingyu would occasionally send you pictures he found of you during work, little snapshots of your past. In return, you’d send him amusing messages or pictures from your quiet days at home.

One night, Mingyu saw five missed calls from you, all while he had been buried in work. Concern immediately washed over him as he dialed your number, and you picked up almost instantly.

"Hey, sorry… I was working earlier. You never call this late," he began, but his voice faltered when he heard something unusual—your sobbing.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he asked, alarmed by the silence that followed.

“Can you come? I’m so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling with fear. Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He asked for your location, and you told him you were in a hotel, far from home—almost an hour away. Without wasting another second, he grabbed his keys and left.

When he arrived at the hotel and knocked on your door, nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him. Your hair was disheveled, your eyes were red and swollen from crying, and there was a small cut on the corner of your lip. Mingyu's heart dropped.

He gently pushed you back into the room, his eyes scanning your body. Bruises covered your arms, your neck, and one side of your cheek.

“Did he do this to you?” Mingyu asked softly, kneeling before you as you sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes filled with concern.

You nodded slowly, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks as a sob broke free. Mingyu wrapped you in his arms, holding you tenderly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his heart breaking for you.

He had always admired your strength. You were passionate, driven, a force to be reckoned with. But now, seeing you like this—shaken, broken, after your husband’s abuse—something inside him snapped. He couldn't stand to see you treated this way.

“Does he do this to you a lot?” Mingyu asked gently, afraid of the answer.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “This is the first time… but he’s been verbally harassing me for a while.”

Mingyu's eyes trailed over the bruises, fury boiling inside him. The thought of your husband doing this made him clench his fists. How could anyone hurt you like this?

“We had a fight,” you continued, voice barely audible. “I haven’t been able to get pregnant… and I was angry too, but he—” Your voice cracked, and you broke down, the weight of it all crashing over you.

“You’re safe now,” Mingyu said softly, pulling you into his embrace again. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

From that night onward, Mingyu became your rock. He was your confidante, someone you could trust during the darkest moments of your marriage. He supported you as you navigated the abuse and waited for the right moment to free yourself from your toxic husband.

And finally, that moment came—when you discovered the ultimate betrayal. He had been cheating on you with the maid you hired just months ago.

“They slept together while I was in the same house as them,” you said bitterly, your voice full of pain. “Every night.”

Hearing this, Mingyu’s protective instinct only grew stronger. You deserved better, and he vowed to stand by you until you found your way out of the nightmare your marriage had become.

However, the past never truly left either of you. Despite the years and distance, there was still a powerful connection between you and Mingyu—one that neither of you could ignore. The comfort, warmth, and undeniable attraction remained, sparking once again whenever you were together. It felt like you had been transported back to your university days, when everything between you was new and exciting.

Originally, the plan was simple: expose the truth about your husband. But the abuse had escalated, and the maid, to your disbelief, had begun dropping subtle hints about her secret affair with Jun, almost as if she wanted you to know. It was sickening, and you found yourself thinking that they deserved each other—a match made in hell.

“He could have killed you eventually,” Mingyu muttered, pressing gentle kisses to the bruises your husband had left behind. Each touch was a mixture of tenderness and suppressed rage.

“I won’t let that happen,” Mingyu whispered, though he knew the reality all too well. If you divorced Jun, the public would likely turn on you—the former actress with a scandal attached, while Jun, the beloved celebrity chef, would play the victim. The world loved him too much to see the truth.

That’s when the plan took shape. Together, you and Mingyu devised a way to make them pay. Using the maid’s background in chemical engineering, and Jun’s obsessive perfectionism and need for control, the pieces began to fall into place. The plan was as meticulous as Jun himself—just as he liked things.

“We’ll be fine. Trust me,” Mingyu reassured you, his voice low but full of conviction. He leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours before closing the gap, sealing your pact with a kiss that was both comforting and charged with a passion that had never really faded.

You knew what had to be done. This wasn’t just about revenge—it was about survival, about reclaiming the power that Jun had stripped from you piece by piece. And with Mingyu by your side, you felt like you could finally take it back.

*

“Did you use water from the bottle?” Jun’s voice was low but scrutinizing as he looked at the steaming cup of coffee you placed in front of him. His eyes narrowed slightly, the way they always did when he suspected something was off, as if he was already preparing to find fault.

You nodded, offering nothing more. There was no need to over-explain; you’d already learned that. A year of being with Jun had taught you to anticipate his every need, his every request. You had become attuned to the meticulous nature of his preferences, the way he expected perfection in even the smallest details.

Jun lifted the cup to his lips, his expression unreadable. You watched as he took a slow sip, his sharp palate immediately distinguishing between the coffee made with tap water and the bottled water he’d insisted on after one too many complaints. When he set the cup down, he didn’t say anything, just gave a slight nod of approval before turning his attention back to his tablet.

It had been months in the making, this habit you built, subtly weaving it into his life. First, it was the coffee. Then it was his food. Every dish prepared to his demanding taste, all of it crafted to make him dependent on that bottled water, his palate too sensitive to accept anything less. It was the perfect setup.

As you walked out of the room, your mind flickered back to Mingyu’s advice. “Start with something small,” he had said. “Make him dependent on it, and when the time comes, we’ll use it against him.”

You didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning.

“That woman should handle the groceries from now on,” Mingyu’s voice had been calm but purposeful when he suggested it. He was sitting across from you at a small café, his hand reaching out to touch yours. “Since she’s his girlfriend, she’ll be careless. She won’t put in the same effort you do.”

The idea was brilliant. You had already seen how Seyeon was beginning to infiltrate your life, little by little, her presence creeping into spaces where she didn’t belong. Letting her handle the groceries would be one more way to let her sink deeper into the affair.

The next phase of the plan was more complicated. It required emotional manipulation—a confrontation that would spark tension and lead to what Mingyu called “the perfect motive.”

One evening, after Jun returned from work, you sat him down. The air between you was cold, detached, as if the love that once filled your home had long since evaporated.

“We need to talk,” you said, your voice steady.

Jun glanced at you, sensing the seriousness in your tone. “What’s this about?” he asked, suspicion already creeping into his expression.

“I think we should divorce,” you said plainly, watching for his reaction.

Jun’s face contorted, a mix of disbelief and anger flashing in his eyes. “Divorce? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you continued, keeping your voice level. “I know about you and Seyeon. I’ve known for a while.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Jun’s hands clenched, his jaw tightening. You could feel the rage building beneath his composed exterior.

“If you leave her, I won’t say a word about it to the media,” you added, throwing down the ultimatum that would push him over the edge. “But if you don’t—”

The threat hung in the air like a blade. And just as you had expected, the storm followed soon after. That very night, you heard Jun and Seyeon arguing in hushed but heated whispers, thinking you were asleep. You found your dresses shredded, your things broken, and Seyeon’s jealous tantrums began surfacing in ways that made it clear she knew her days were numbered.

The moment had finally come when Mingyu handed you the small vial containing the colorless, tasteless powder. “Here, put this in his water,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a steady, unwavering gaze.

You stared at the vial in your hand, feeling its weight—not just the physical weight but the weight of what it symbolized. This was it. The culmination of everything you and Mingyu had planned, carefully, methodically, over the last few months. You felt a slight tremor in your hand, not from fear but from the adrenaline rushing through you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice betraying a sliver of doubt. “What if something goes wrong? What if we get caught?”

Mingyu reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “Nothing will go wrong,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “Seyeon’s been doing the grocery shopping, right? She hasn’t been restocking the fridge properly. The water bottles will run low, and when Jun reaches for one, it’ll be this one.”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the anxiety bubbling up inside you. Mingyu had thought of everything, hadn’t he? He’d been so meticulous, so careful, just like Jun. And now, he was asking you to trust him with something so dangerous, so final.

“I’ll handle everything,” Mingyu reassured you, his fingers brushing over yours, calming your nerves. “If anything happens, I’ll make sure the investigation leads straight to her. She’s been careless, reckless. We’ll plant the arsenic in her things. No one will suspect you.”

This was it. The moment you had been waiting for, months in the making. Everything was going according to plan.

And just as Mingyu had promised, everything unfolded perfectly. The investigation led straight to Seyeon. The arsenic was found in her apartment, carefully planted in a way that left no doubt in the minds of the police. The media frenzy that followed was everything you had expected—and more. Seyeon’s public fall from grace was swift and brutal. The perfect crime, and no one suspected a thing.

“We’ll be fine, love,” Mingyu whispered one final time, pulling you into his arms as the chaos unfolded around you. You had trusted him, and in the end, he had been right. You were free.

*

“How was your mother?” Mingyu’s deep voice broke the comfortable silence as he watched you from the couch. You were standing in front of the mirror, slowly smoothing lotion onto your skin, your body illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Mingyu leaned back, his gaze following the gentle movements of your hands, admiring the peacefulness in the room. After everything the two of you had been through, moments like this felt sacred—quiet, intimate, and free from the chaos that had once consumed your life.

You glanced at him through the mirror, offering a soft smile. “She’s doing fine. But she’s getting older, and I’ve been thinking about asking her to move in with me. She’s so stubborn, though. She won’t leave the countryside. She’s always been attached to that place.”

Mingyu smiled, enjoying the way your voice softened when you spoke about your mother. It was something he admired about you—the way you cared so deeply for the people you loved. “It’s understandable. She’s probably got a lifetime of memories there. But, maybe one day she’ll change her mind,” he said, standing up and walking toward you.

His hand rested gently on your shoulder as he spoke. “How did she react to everything with Jun?” Mingyu asked, referring to the fallout from your former husband’s scandal, his voice cautious but curious.

“She was shocked,” you admitted, turning slightly to look at him. “But not entirely surprised. She’s always known something wasn’t right between Jun and me. I think what worried her the most was me suddenly staying with her for a month and then leaving again. She probably sensed something was going on beneath the surface.”

Mingyu chuckled softly, his eyes warm with understanding. “She’s your mom. She knows you better than anyone else.”

He reached for the lotion bottle, squeezing some into his palms. Without a word, he gently began to rub it into your shoulders, his strong hands massaging the tension from your muscles. His touch was firm but soothing, easing away the weight of everything you had carried over the past few months. His reflection in the mirror locked eyes with yours, and there was something grounding in his presence—something that made you feel safe.

“How are you feeling?” Mingyu asked, his voice low, almost a whisper, as his hands continued to glide over your skin, working their way down your back.

You tilted your head slightly, pausing to think before responding. “I feel... relieved, but also worried. It’s strange. I thought I’d feel only relief after everything, but there’s this part of me that’s still anxious, like something could go wrong.”

Mingyu’s hands paused for a moment, then he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “That’s normal,” he whispered against your hair. “You’ve just come out of a toxic relationship, and it’s going to take time to fully feel like yourself again. But you’re free now, and I’m here. You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore.”

You smiled at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. His reassurance was exactly what you needed, a reminder that you were no longer trapped, no longer alone. “Thank you, Mingyu,” you said quietly, your voice filled with gratitude.

He turned you toward him, his hands moving to cup your face as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. “Anything for you,” he whispered, sealing his promise with a tender kiss.

The kiss deepened, turning heated as Mingyu's hand trailed from the nape of your neck down to your waist, gently yet possessively pushing you against the wall. His fingers explored every contour of your body, mapping out your curves, while your hand slipped into his hair, massaging his scalp. A soft moan escaped his lips, the pleasure from your touch sending shivers through him.

His hand slid under your pajama top, his palm pressing against the bare skin of your back before moving upward, cupping your breast perfectly in his hand. He massaged it with slow, deliberate strokes, while his other hand trailed lower, squeezing your ass firmly.

“I want to make you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear before his lips traveled down to your neck. His tongue painted your skin like a canvas, leaving wet trails as he marked you with kisses.

With a firm grip, he lifted your thigh to his waist, thrusting his hips against your core, letting you feel how hard you had made him.

“I need you…” you whispered, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt. Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He pulled you down to the floor, urgency in his movements as he unbuttoned his pants. You helped him peel his shirt off, both of you shedding layers like you couldn’t get close enough.

His lips found your breast, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking and teasing it as if his life depended on it. Meanwhile, his hand slipped under the waistband of your pants, slowly dragging them down just enough to let his fingers explore. He groaned softly as his fingers brushed over your warm, wet core, teasing you with playful strokes before finally slipping one finger inside.

“Mingyu…” His name left your lips in a breathless plea, the sound making his smirk grow wider.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, his voice deep with lust.

“Please… I want you,” you murmured, feeling the need building with every slow, tantalizing movement of his fingers.

“Not yet, baby…” he shushed you, his finger moving faster, his other hand steadying your body against the intensity.

“Ah… fuck…” you moaned, your body arching as he added another finger, filling you even more. His movements quickened, relentless, as he pumped his fingers inside you, the wet sounds filling the room.

“Can you hear that? That’s you, so wet… just for me,” he rasped, his voice low and husky.

Your breath hitched as he slipped a third finger inside, the stretch making your head spin as your body tightened in response. The pooling heat in your belly grew unbearable.

“Mingyu… I can’t, it’s too much—”

“Cum for me, baby… I can feel it,” he urged, his fingers moving faster, harder, as if he were chasing your release himself.

Your body obeyed, the tension snapping as you hit your climax, gasping as waves of pleasure crashed over you. “I’m cumming…” you barely managed to say, your voice breaking as your orgasm rippled through you, leaving you breathless.

Mingyu smirked in satisfaction, watching you squirt against his fingers. He lowered you to the floor, giving you no time to recover as he kneeled between your legs, his mouth instantly finding your wetness. His tongue swirled against your sensitive core, drawing out every last drop of pleasure as you let out a desperate whine, your legs trembling beneath his touch.

His tongue worked you expertly, tasting every inch of you, the sound of your moans driving him crazy. He could listen to you like this forever, and he knew he’d never tire of making you feel this crazy.

"Too much…" you managed to whisper through your hitched breath. Mingyu stood from his position, effortlessly lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bed. As he laid you down gently, he pulled off his boxers, freeing his cock, which was swollen and slick with precum, the tip flushed red—an undeniable sign of how badly he wanted you. But tonight wasn’t about his desires; it was about making you forget all your worries, about making you feel cherished.

His lips captured yours again as he hovered over you, gently laying you down on the bed. His hands moved up to your breasts, teasing them, thumbs circling your sensitive nipples, while his kisses trailed down your neck.

"I'm going to treat you so good, baby. You're my princess… Cum for me again, yeah?" he murmured, his voice low and tender as he gazed into your eyes. Then, without hesitation, he lowered himself between your legs again, his lips finding your core once more.

"Please, Mingyu… it's too much…" you whimpered, the overwhelming pleasure making your body tremble. Mingyu only hummed in response, the vibration from his voice sending another jolt of pleasure straight to your belly, making you moan louder.

His tongue worked you with expert precision, every flick and swirl pushing you closer to the edge. It felt like you were floating, everything around you fading away as pleasure consumed you. You could see flashes of white behind your eyelids, the sensation so intense you could barely breathe.

Sensing how far gone you were, Mingyu playfully pinched your thigh, grounding you in the moment just as your second orgasm began building. Your body jerked in response, and you gasped, arching against him.

"I'm close…" you whispered, the words barely making it past your lips.

"Yes, baby, cum for me," Mingyu urged, his deep voice almost a command. "I’ve got you."

Your body convulsed as your orgasm crashed over you, more powerful than the first. You cried out, hands tangling in Mingyu's hair, pushing him closer to your core as he licked you through your release. His tongue didn’t relent, driving you further into ecstasy as your body quivered and your mind spun from the intensity.

When you finally came down from the high, breathless and trembling, Mingyu lifted his head, his lips glistening with your essence. His warm smile filled you with a sense of peace. Climbing back up your body, he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, the intimacy of the moment leaving you breathless once more.

"I love you," Mingyu murmured against your lips, his voice soft but filled with passion. He kissed you again, slower this time, as if savoring every second. "You’re everything to me."

The warmth in your chest spread, a feeling of deep love and connection wrapping around you. Mingyu wasn’t just making love to your body; he was worshipping every part of you, showing you just how addicted he was—to you, to the way your body responding his every touch. He was all yours tonight, and he would remind you of that over and over again.

"You want me, baby? Think you can handle me?" Mingyu asked, his voice low and teasing as his gaze trailed down your body. Desperation laced your nod, your breaths coming quicker as you clenched around nothing, your body betraying just how much you needed him. Mingyu smirked at the sight, loving how your body was begging for him just as much as he wanted you.

"Are you sure you can take me?" he murmured again, his tip barely grazing your entrance, rubbing teasingly against your slick folds. Your lips parted in a soft whimper, eyes pleading as you muttered a quiet beg.

"Well, since you asked so nicely…"

Mingyu slowly, deliberately, slid his cock into you, the stretch sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your walls welcomed him with a tight warmth, like he belonged there, and Mingyu whimpered softly near your ear as he pushed deeper, still amazed at how tight you felt around him, even after all this time.

"Oh my—just like the first time…" he groaned, his voice thick with need.

"You're so big," you breathed out, making his cock twitch inside you. Mingyu hissed through his teeth, half-warning you to stop saying things like that, his control hanging by a thread.

"You feel so amazing… you have no idea," he muttered, burying himself fully inside you, both of you moaning at the sensation. It felt perfect, as if everything about this moment—about you two—was exactly right.

"Move, baby… you can move," you urged him, your voice barely a whisper, but Mingyu heard it loud and clear. He began to thrust, slowly at first, then picking up the pace as you adjusted to the delicious fullness.

"Did he fuck you good?" Mingyu asked, his tone darkening as he picked up speed, the jealousy biting at him. He needed to know, needed to hear it from you—needed the reassurance that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Not Jun, not anyone.

You shook your head, desperation and pleasure etched into your expression as your breathing grew more ragged. Mingyu could feel your walls tightening around him as he angled his hips, hitting the spot that made you see stars.

"Only you," you gasped out, barely able to form the words as he continued to thrust, hitting that perfect spot again and again. "Only you can do this to me…"

Mingyu groaned deeply at your confession, pulling your face toward his for a sloppy, heated kiss. His lips claimed yours, your moans mingling as he lifted your leg, folding you in half to get deeper, hitting places you didn’t even know existed.

His pace quickened, every thrust sending shocks of pleasure through your body. His fingers found your clit, circling it in sync with his movements, pushing you further toward the edge. You couldn’t stop your hands from clawing at his back, your nails leaving marks, but the pain only heightened Mingyu's pleasure.

"I'm close," you gasped, the pressure in your belly building to an unbearable peak. Mingyu's arms slid beneath your head, pulling you closer, craving the skin-to-skin contact as he chased both of your releases. His moans mixed with yours as he felt your walls clamp down around him, your orgasm washing over you, pulling him deeper into his own.

Your body shook as he thrust through your high, and despite the overstimulation, he kept going, desperate to find his own release. His thrusts grew sloppier, more erratic, until finally, with a groan, he buried himself inside you, ropes of hot cum filling you as he reached his climax.

He dropped his head onto your shoulder, panting as he continued to ride out the last waves of pleasure, even as your body trembled through another small, overstimulated orgasm.

When the intensity finally subsided, Mingyu flipped you both over, letting you rest on top of his chest as your breathing slowly returned to normal. He gently stroked your back, grounding you as you recovered.

"Let's rest for five minutes… then I'll ride you," you whispered, voice still thick with exhaustion, but the promise in your words sent a spark through Mingyu.

His ears pearked at your words, and like an eager puppy, he grinned widely. The thought of you riding him filling him with anticipation. Finally, after everything, you are his— completely and utterly his. And he couldn't wait for more.

*

"Tell me something I don't know," Hong Jisoo stated, his voice slurred as he and Mingyu sat across from each other, four empty bottles of soju scattered on the table between them.

Mingyu didn’t falter, continuing to grill the meat in front of him, though he knew where this conversation was heading. Jisoo's drunken state had loosened his tongue, and now he was asking about something they both knew all too well.

"I saw you with Mrs. Moon. Or should I call her Y/N?" Jisoo’s brow raised, his words no longer filtered by sobriety.

Mingyu glanced at him, a brief silence hanging in the air before he sighed. "Since when?" Jisoo prodded, his curiosity piqued.

"We've known each other since college," Mingyu finally admitted, flipping the meat on the grill with a practiced hand.

Jisoo nodded, leaning forward. "So why did you pretend like you didn’t know her during the investigation?" he asked, a hint of accusation lacing his words.

"It was... awkward," Mingyu confessed, his hand absently scratching the back of his neck. "We used to date for a long time. She got married, and then her husband died... tragically."

Jisoo’s expression softened slightly as Mingyu continued. "You know the case. Jun treated her horribly, and honestly... my feelings for her were too strong. I couldn’t just ignore it. Once the investigation was over, I reached out to her because I wanted to support her."

Jisoo nodded again, slowly digesting the explanation. He was a man who valued logic, and Mingyu’s reasoning made sense to him in his inebriated state. "So, you two are dating again? I heard she announced her retirement."

"Yeah," Mingyu replied with a nod. "We started seeing each other again. She retired and decided to move in with her mother. It’s been good for her."

Jisoo sighed deeply, slumping forward on the table. "I was her fan, you know. She was a great actress!" he slurred, nearly knocking over the grill as he lost his balance.

Mingyu quickly reached out, steadying Jisoo before he burned himself. "Yeah," Mingyu agreed quietly, glancing down at the sizzling meat. "She really was."

As Jisoo drifted into a drunken stupor, Mingyu couldn’t help but reflect. You were a great actress. And somewhere along the way, you’d taught him to be one too, hiding secrets behind composed smiles and well-practiced lies.

[sincerestlove]

Touch

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; no explicit smut, just some light nsfw descriptions and themes. Short little blurb - trying to get back into the whole writing thing.

My requests are open! Currently writing for Emily Prentiss (CM), Jennifer Jareau (CM), Regina George (MG) and Reneé Rapp :)

~

The soft sound of a crackling wick filled the air, scents of pumpkin enveloping the living room. Outside, cold wind blew against the shutters, moonlight pouring over the patterned tiling of the roof.

You were so engrossed in the thick book sitting comfortably between your hands, blanket pulled up to your chin, that you didn’t notice the front door creaking open - your girlfriend sneaking through quietly. With your favorite takeout nestled in her arms, she kicked the door closed behind her.

You jumped at the sudden noise, poking your head up over the couch, only to be greeted by pearly white teeth and bright blue eyes. “Hey, pretty girl.” Regina placed the bags onto your marbled kitchen counter and shucked off her tight denim jacket. Her long, curled blonde hair cascaded down her now bare shoulders, as she peered down at the ivory pages of the book.

“Hi, love.” You put the book down on the side table, easily forgotten with a gentle thunk, reaching your hands up to grab at her. She laughed softly, leaning down to take your lips into her own lip glossed ones, thumbs pressing gently into your shoulder blades.

“Hi.”

She walked around the side of your absurdly large pink couch, slinking herself down beside you. Her hand immediately went for your hips, running her fingers along the exposed skin where your baby blue tank top had ridden up, just so. You shivered at the cool touch of her rings, smiling shyly at her. Her soft eyes flicked across your face, taking in your features, long lashes brushing against her rosy cheeks. “You were on my mind all day at work.”

You quirked a brow at her, smile never leaving your face. “Oh, really? And what were you thinking about?”

Regina hummed, leaning closer to you. The scent of her sweet perfume filled your senses almost instantly, making you feel slightly dizzy. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The blonde tilted her head. She inched even closer to you, perfectly manicured fingers snaking up your shirt, coming to brush against your uncovered nipples. You arched into the touch, head lolling backwards to fall against the couch cushions. Regina’s nose brushed against the skin of your neck, soft lips ghosting along the sensitive skin as she tugged on your peaks gently, rolling them between her long fingers, smirking at the sounds falling from your lips. “You always prance around the house in these little shorts and tank tops when I’m not around?”

“Maybe.”

Regina hummed again, the sound vibrating through your own body, her free hand moving to slip into said little shorts, perfect eyebrows raising in surprise when her fingers were met with bare wetness. “No panties? Really?”

You breathed out a laugh, biting your lip as she ran two fingers slowly, slowly, slowly through your folds, generously coating her fingers. “You…you said you were coming home. So I dressed in something comfortable.”

The blonde rolled her eyes playfully at your explanation. “Guess you knew I was thinking about you, huh?” You could only whine in response, the sound catching in your throat at the feeling of her fingers skimming against your already swollen clit. “Is that what made you all wet?”

You shivered, bucking your hips into her hand - desperate for more pressure, more movement, more anything. Regina wasn’t giving in, though, continuing to lightly run her fingers along your heat. “I asked you a question, honey.”

“Yes…fuck, it made me wet.” You confessed, stuttering over your words, feeling a blush bloom across your chest and run up your neck.

Regina chuckled, pulling her hand fully away and out of your shorts, causing a pout to form on your lips. Regina rolls her eyes at you again, before meeting your cloudy gaze. She slowly slipped her fingers past her lips, sucking them clean. Your mouth fell open at the sight, eyes glued to her pretty pink lips.

“You’re so mean.”

Regina smirked, adjusting your shorts and top back to a more appropriate position. “Don’t be a brat. We have to eat.”

You grumbled under your breath about eating something else, the blonde pinching your hip and laughing as she tugged you onto your feet and into the kitchen to enjoy the still warm takeout.

~

I really hoped you enjoyed! Again, my requests are open if you’d like to see me write anything :)

[powdermelonkeg]

You know what? I'm gonna make a Minecraft movie

This is a plot I banged out over the course of like three hours at work so bear with me.

Movie starts. Main Guy just got fired from his job or something. He goes home to his house, greets his dog, agonizes over how he's going to pay for said dog with this development. Dog comes up wanting to play fetch, has a mcguffin in its mouth. Main Guy takes it and fiddles with it that night.

Mcguffin activates.

Guy winds up in Minecraft world. Spends a day freaking out about everything. Finds a dirt house someone else made and spends the night there to escape the monsters.

There's a map there. Takes that to a village

Meets Alex. She doesn't speak.

Alex is in the middle of saving a village from an Illager raid. Main Guy helps.

It takes a turn into a rescue mission for captured Villagers. The Illagers are hunting for a Trial Chamber with a legendary weapon (the mace).

After that arc is complete, Main Guy has an Allay as a pet and a new friend in a Villager he saved. Gang's all there, all adventures from here on out will be with MG, Alex, Villager, and Allay.

They go to Alex's home base. It's neat, but it's very clear she's not the only one that's lived there.

MG manages to convey to Alex that he needs a way home. And she's got the Ender Dragon egg, but doesn't have the rest of the equipment to get to the End and make the portal home.

Trip into the Deep Dark, ancient city, Warden fight while getting diamonds.

Villager takes the diamonds and makes a pickaxe for them.

They get obsidian and make a Nether Portal. Trip to the Nether to find a fortress and get blaze rods and ender pearls.

While they're in the Nether, they come across the Wither Briar. It's a new biome that's spreading, wither roses everywhere, with a Wither at the center.

They get the supplies they need, but the Wither catches them and attacks. They barely make it out alive; Villager gets zombified.

Rush to a witch to get Villager healed.

It gets revealed that Alex and her friends once took on the Wither, but it turned out too destructive and they lost the battle and several friends. They split up then. The Wither's been terrorizing the local Piglins and spreading the zombie infection ever since.

MG gets up, determined, gearing up and reentering the Nether. Epic battle against the Wither. The Wither Briar dies, the Piglins rejoice.

MG, Alex, and Villager start gearing up to find the Stronghold, with help from the village, Piglins, witch, etc. MG gets a unique armor trim that's not in the game.

Melancholy travel. Alex and Villager are gonna miss MG a LOT, and he's considering whether or not he wants to leave.

Stronghold leads to the End, End City fight for an Elytra.

Final fight with the Ender Dragon, hesitation, then final goodbyes. The group all jumps into the portal together.

MG winds up back home in his bed, in the real world, but he still has his gear and the sword he used to slay the Ender Dragon with.

He gets the mcguffin that sent him to Minecraft in the first place and is about to destroy it. He second-guesses it. Epic montage of him grabbing the things he needs to go.

He puts on a blue shirt and dark jeans. He packs his bag with apples, a slice of cake, and a map. He grabs his dog, a fluffy gray one with a red collar, then he activates the mcguffin again.

End poem plays, followed by the credits rolling.

Post-credits at the end with Minecraft music playing, Steve rolls up to Alex's house as she and Villager are building a beacon out of the Nether Star the Wither dropped. He helps them finish it, the beacon shoots into the sky, then they go into her house.

Alex looks at the map hopefully, waiting for her friends as the sun goes down, but all it shows is hers and Steve's icons on it…then someone else's shows up, just barely at the border. It's one of the other "default" players.

End of movie.

[death---dealer]

If You Only Knew. ( Noa x Human!Reader. ) Part Thirteen.

oh mg god

Title: If You Only Knew. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Sexual implications, injury, mentions of blood. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 7K. ( Shorter but every word HURTS. ) Summary: Noa is taken to you. Once more, one more time and one more chance to tell you how he feels.

READ THE SERIES HERE.

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No one came back for you. 

There was no satisfaction in feeling a set of arms lined with fur drenching themselves against your body and carrying you off to safety as you began the decline into the inevitable. Soona--- you whimpered gently, she… Did the right thing. You’d have not come back for an Echo either, so terrible and flushed with misery and inherent selfishness to destroy all of the good in their lives. You’d have left the body alone to shatter into char and to be completely unrecognizable. Her people… Her Clan. Your Clan. Your people… More important. You’d perish with it, rightfully so, never to be remembered in the future, never to be thought of anymore as nothing more than the Echo who brought down the entire three-hundred years of established cultures and families. 

There was no indication outside the roaring of the flames of an Ape calling out to you to help, of someone there to cast you back to reality and to tell you to hold on for just a little more. Self-pity had to be the last thing you felt before actually succumbing, how bitter a thought and how cruel the world was to you as your appendages all went numb against the heated ground, soot seeping into your mouth and coating the inside of your lungs with disgusted ash and resin that you were choking on but could not bring yourself to cough out, your head splitting itself open from the inside out like your brain wanted nothing more than to escape in a last-ditch effort to save at least your subconscious.

There was nothing for you, you figured and waited in baited anticipation of what lay beyond. You had gotten the only satisfaction you were seeking; seeing a life with Noa that you were not going to have. Feeling Noa against you knowing that it was never meant to be your body there, carrying a child with him to fruition, passing on the knowledge of both Echo and Ape… Lost and gone for both of you, a shred of guilt resting against your esophagus as all you wanted was to cry but had no energy to foster a chortle.

The Chimp would find a way to do it himself, he was obsessive in that aspect, you tried to calm your racing mind as you tore through the burns that left you here in the first place. No more resentment towards him for letting you go months ago, no more wondering what would have happened if you did not agree to his terms and he let you out into the world a year ago. No more… Noa for your eyes to feast on, the ripping of his muscles such a delicacy on their own, no meeting gazes from across the bonfire as Anaya told one of his crazed and elaborate stories, no more interactions on the basis that you were going to teach him something new… This was okay, your mind rested. Your fingers flattened on the ground and you kissed the blue feather of Eagle Sun into the Earth itself. 

Caressing bare skin was unusual, the sense pulling you back from the tether you had against the chains of bargaining. You always hated it when you compared it to the way it felt to have Noa brushing against your bare flesh. Human… too much like your own, too sweaty and too flushed, easy to break apart and torture to the extent of intense agony. You wanted to pull your arm back from the grasp, snatched and barked at whoever was touching you that you were not to be cradled by anyone but Noa but they were persistent, words flurrying around your ear drums but failing to process beyond a mild muffle. It was just the fire crackling, you figured and thought nothing of the inflictions. It was whispering to you that it was your time to go and out of arrogance, you chose to ignore it because you were unable to admit if you wanted to leave or not.

One part of you did; to fall asleep and not have to worry about the sun rising in the morning and the innate responsibilities that rested on your shoulders for being different and having to face the Clan in their demise, their eyes flooding you with judgment that you were the reason for the destruction in the first place. You’d be forced to leave, they’d all hate you and you’d rather embrace death then have to admit to yourself that they were right to always despise Echo, yourself included in that equation. 

One part of you didn't; wanting to stay awake long enough to see Noa once more so you could truly tell him that you needed him… That you… Needed his approval and his affection or else you were going to die without satisfaction and pleasure. To mutter how sorry you were that this all happened and that you were flooded with acute regret for taking the sweetened agreement that just got more and more drenched in coated honey that it was a temptation you were unable to stop yourself from biting at. You hoped one way or another he was going to forgive you for you were unable to forgive yourself.

A breath left your body when your arm was pulled, the sensation so dulled in the scape of the other injuries that riddled your body and you were under the safe assumption that Death herself came to grab you, pulling the arm right out of the socket as she dragged you to the deepest parts of the abyss.

 Fluttering against the ground, you were nothing more than dead weight and she realized that, holding on a bit tighter around your bruised wrist and tugged harder, skidding your body against the dirt and filling each lifeless pore with more dirtiness. You were unsure where that was, where in intended place you were being scooted to was but you hoped it was somewhere warm as chill ran through your spine and entangled itself against each vertebrate, kissing it to the point of paralysis and you were unable to even move your head to see what was happening as the landscape in front of your terror ladened eyes began to change.

From dirt coating the front of your body, scraping relentlessly through the thinned, crimson soaked t-shirt and into your navel and tearing away at your skin.

To flushed grass that sounded like heavy boots crunching and killing each of the shards. You felt bad for them, meeting Death so swiftly when you had the privilege to see it so close and personal, forming a relationship with her that you were never going to get in life itself. 

To the sediment of the forest's edge as you felt gravity taking a turn against you, head frantic to find some stability as you were propped up against the wooden embankment of a tree-trunk. She was preparing you, your lips parting in exaltation as you accepted it. The blood encrusted feather in your hand raised as you offered it to her. Take… Take it back to Noa for me, tell him… how much I’m sorry to leave… I needed to though, I can’t… hold on… Your head teetered forward, your neck muscles unable to hold any semblance of stability to tighten and stay active. 

“You need-”

A smile split across your face at the voice. Yeah, death was going to be a Human. The worst imaginable, the same inclination thoughts about Apes you had when you first laid eyes on Noa, Anaya and Soona, never realizing the impact they would have on you in the coming months that lead to this lusted for moment when Death would kiss you and take the last breath for herself, storing it for blackmail in the afterlife. The mind was running on its own as your eyelids were unable to come into any sort of position to properly see what had just occurred and where Death had taken you. 

Limbo, maybe. Awaiting a sentence that you knew was going to come hammering down on you for it was not coming from the Apes who granted you refuge, though they deserved it all the same. All your life as a Human making biased assumptions towards the very family who gave you a second life, who gave you a second chance to change your view points. All selfishly thrown away for just one of them… Your lips parted again as you managed to get yourself to whisper a small utterance.

 “Noa…” The feather you canted between your fingertips, a symbol of your lack of understanding and your lack of willingness to let go, reached itself up in a stroke towards the Heavens as if you were going to take off to the sky with it. “Noa.”

“Get up---”I don’t want to, you whispered inside of your mind, legs finally coming back to some feeling as you felt the shattering of your calves, not able to heal themselves and ingrained with dirt from a fight you needed to win to see Noa’s face once more. To hold him and to tell him in acute silence that it was all going to be alright and that you were going to get him safe.“You---”

The voice was breaking up, you whimpered quietly in your spot and reached your feather placed hand out to grasp at Death again. Don’t leave me now! I can’t go back… I’m s.. So afraid… 

“Need to help---” I’d rather die, you tucked the feather into the hand that out-stretched itself to help you get steady, refusing the help and admiration from the darkness and allotted your body against the ground as it had been before. Would the feather make it to Noa? You had no idea, but you hoped that the Reaper would be kind enough to show you one more grace. One more good thought and good deed as you rested your head against the ground, the notion of your split head nothing more than a tacknote in how it felt to just embrace what you were. As an Echo who loved an Ape. As part of the Eagle Clan itself, you wanted nothing more than to be a part of the Earth in death.

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The aggressive silence that radiated off the Ape, walking step-by-step with another Echo was abundantly clear in the shattering of twigs underweight of flat feet that were spaced with balanced toes and a pair of worn, nearly holed at the bottom was deafening to both as the ricocheting sounds reverberated through the entire wooded area. Noa was unsure, his rustled fur against his body on edge at every turn that this Echo made in the westward direction. Every turn of the head that this smaller frame made caused Noa’s bloodshot eyes to narrow and scan him again incase he had missed a hidden weapon, in case Noa was being lead to the ultimate fight to the Death with the knowledge that the only thing that was keeping his muscles together at this point was the prospect of seeing you again. Conversation was sparse, save for the idle mention earlier as the trek began that you were not in a state of consciousness and he was even hesitant to leave you in the first place to die on your own; the Echo was adamant that no one deserved to die alone and that was something Noa full heartedly agree with that, but only with you. This Echo. Very well could die alone at the hands of Noa’s strength and he’d feel nothing as the heart ceased to beat as long as you were safe and accounted for in the grand scheme. He contemplated it, watching the fall and rise of the shoulders and gesturing directions to him, broader than your own and all the more powerful and able to defend themselves as Noa tore away from the vision he got of your bloodied and tattered body. Seething at that, teeth bared themselves momentarily and shined with the glistening of the morning sun making itself known against the crisped landscape. He was… unable to defend you… Unable to stop the infliction against your soft skin, unable to hold and cradle your head when you came crashing down from the horse after trying to bid yourself into an escape. Noa--- his stomach churned as they rounded a blueberry bush, all familiar to him now as they were nearing the edge of the clan, his thick and calloused fingertips brushing the foliage with reminiscent melancholy of how many times your knees brushed their surfaces as you went foraging for berries, nestled so deeply in the bush that Noa thought you would disappear if you went any further. 

Noa contemplated it again; killing this Echo for even admitting that he was a part of the plan from the beginning and he did nothing but grovel for himself. Pitifully, the Master of the Birds thought and heard Eagle Sun crouch a cry into the stagnant air, enough to tell Noa what was happening. Pushing aside the lingering idea that Noa was more like this Echo than he was willing to bring to the forefront, both afraid once, both bargaining for their place in the world, Noa playing pieces with his own Clan’s safety and this Echo playing a piece with a azure feather, he hated that he felt a lick of sympathy at all as the scattering calls from Eagle Sun grew louder with each reinvigorating step he was taking, one after the other pained and slanted as he was unable to garner enough strength to balance his broad body, right arm in a slump of usefulness and his left, weaker than the dominant, fluttering to keep himself upright. “She gave you…” Noa finally spoke, feeling the feather tickling at the inside of his wrist where it had made its bloodied home against the fur that was dressed tightly in the arm band used to hold Eagle Sun without his talons causing extensive damage to the toughened skin that lined Noa’s body. His voice felt to be a different part of him, so far off, so unfamiliar to his ears that were still ringing from being shattered into the mud. Noa wanted to speak more, to instigate this further but the captivation of smothering in his lungs was too great to counterbalance the movements that were rocketing what felt like shattered rib pieces into the outer edges of his lungs.  “Feather. To bring���?”

“No,” Noa stopped moving and felt himself stiffen at that brute answer, tilting his head and feeling his teeth scrape against his lips as he wanted to bark in aggressive intimidation for an answer. “I took it from her. She kept…” 

The Echo also stopped a few feet in front of Noa and turned around to face his prudent captor and for the first time, the Ape got a good look at him. Sickly, from malnourishment, incredibly sunken in cheeks and a chiseled brow-line that was hardened from years of being exposed to the most deadliest of predators; Apes and Echo alike. Below the brow rested blue eyes, not too dissimilar from Noa’s in the stance they held.

Reservation, the knowledge that this was all a tossup and either one of them could come out the champion. He was better hiding it than Noa though, the Chimp had to admit that defeat as he only longed to place his gaze on you and trying to convince himself otherwise was futile. Tousled, dark blond hair that bled into a more honey-golden when he stepped in the right light, Noa noticed as he came forward, slowly at first as Noa hunched his body, flinching only momentarily as he yearned for his right arm to become comprehensive. 

“She kept mumbling about this Noa,” He uttered, “I figured that was you, the leader. The feather was just to get you here.” He tilted his chin back towards the direction that they were trailing, back to the Clan. “You’re the whole reason she fought so hard in the first place to keep your home from burning to the ground. Which proved pointless, we still came--- And well, we’re not all heartless, she deserves to at least have someone she knows there when she dies.”

What a sick and twisted way to show what Noa wanted to consider empathy, his mouth running dry and eyes widening at the words. She deserves to have someone she knows there when she dies. So… You were alive. That’s all his buzzed mind could comprehend from that, the racing of his heart inside of the crackled nature of his chest racing towards that without thinking about the other implications of the statement. Alive… You were alive, this Echo had no reason to lie to Noa… Well, he… did. Enough reason lay in the bounds between species. There was a confliction running through the collarbones and zapping down his spine. 

You were alive… But this Echo was bringing him near you so you could experience the last death to bear witness to your pupils, Noa’s blood falling into your face for the last time as you cried before being taken yourself. A game as evil and conniving as the group of ravenous Apes that lead to your untimely arrival at the Clan, forcing your way into all aspects and into Noa himself to the point where there was no vivid future without you with him.

Noa was unwavering in his stare, from eye to eye to get any indication that the truth was being spoken but there was nothing there for him to read, Noa cursing inside of his mind and falling into a pit of self-deprecation that he had become so accustomed to reading your emotions splayed on your face that he figured it would be easy to do with a different Echo. Noa did take notice regardless of the lack of expressions that he was taking a deep breath in and releasing it painfully as if Noa himself were threatening the very air that was encasing the surrounding area. Like a pestilence, like a plague. 

This… Noa felt his shredded mouth open for a split second as he reached for another question but nothing came to bear fruit from his worthless tongue. This Echo's body stance told him and reminded Noa that… You were not the same even if he came to offer your rescue. This was not empathy, Noa recognized. What you had shown him in the past, talking about his father, the loss of the Clan before this time, was crusted with flecks of empathy that were palpable and tasted so sweet that you were whispering them directly into his mouth. This was… Cruelty. To bring him to you only to see you for an instant before you were taken again. Not satisfaction, not a trace of forgiveness… 

Noa glowered as they turned and began moving forward again, muttering something under their breath about only a few meters more, and he felt not an ounce of empathy for the Echo who bargained for his life like you had before. He’d drink the cruel potion, Noa thought, without hesitating. Anything at all to see you one more time in some desperate hope that maybe it would be enough for the Ape to have closure. He never got it with his Father, each step falling now dripping into the Earth with sorrow filled remembrance of the things that he had in life and the things that were taken from him.

The Echo would kill him in any other circumstance, Noa’s brain riddled itself with contradictions from the way he was raised, so peaceful and unsparing in fights as they’d grown to admire the ways of the Sky’s and not the aggressive ways of the Apes from Beyond the Valley.

But… Noa would do it first out of seeking and attributed revenge that this pathetic excuse for a life was unable to see your value and save you in the first place before the Chimp felt your soul slipping away from him when you laid your life for him. Soona taking him away though Noa felt the fear of his muscles convulsing to go back and to save you instead. Noa recalled in a bloodied fit of terror to go back, too weak to use his body and his words were nothing but crimson against teeth, telling Soona to take him back and to let him drag you to safety. 

Something, anything… Noa felt bile rise in the back of his throat and it stung the already saliva coated crevice as he tried to swallow back the bitter taste of his thoughts and ideas, the ideologies springing from the night before. Green claret irises were tired as they stared at this other Echo who wanted to do something selfless but Noa felt no relief for it. There was none for anyone but you. You were his Echo and he would feel not one shred of empathy of feelings towards any others. 

He could imagine you so vividly in front of him, body so accepting of the differences that laid between the two of you, willing to listen despite your mind having tugged you so often in the opposite direction. They were not all the same, these Echo who came and pillaged, this Echo who brought you back together. But they were not you, Noa needed to tell himself over and over again as he began to carry his body against the ground once more. Only a little bit more, he wanted to fall onto all fours and race ahead but he was unable to tear himself into the position to do that in the first place, no weight was substantiated against his right arm and Noa knew it was going to take time to heal from a Echo inflicted wound. 

He wondered for a second--- Thinking back at the tendering of your flesh from a year ago… How long it would take you to heal from what you sustained. The wounds against your calves, the beating against your head. Noa was unsure how hard you had been hit there, knowing that head injuries amongst Echo were always the fastest and most sparing way to take them out of their misery. There was a racked fear that when he got to you, Noa was going to be unable to say anything to you, grief riding along his diaphragm. 

You were in an awful state the second he saw you before battling, the darkness of the night no doubt shielding some bruises and internal damages from his sight. Noa felt his breath shatter right out of his mouth. What if… He whimpered to himself, what if there was something internally wrong and there was nothing more they could do and you would die from the inside out? What--- Noa’s teeth gritted together, easing the pain that was flushing through the remaining senses he had that were not already blown into obscurity. He’d have to watch you die, one way or another. Either here in this moment now as the Echo came to a slow stop and pointed down the minor embankment of a fallen tree trunk.

 Or… In the future, your face pressing against his as you recalled a good and prosperous life with him. Children… so many, Noa wanted, feeling himself crumble with the idea that it wasn’t even plausible anymore and you were going to be taken from him too soon. He wanted to be selfish as he looked upwards on the small hill. You were right there, Noa wanted to see as he felt sinus pressure build along with the idea that he had more tears to shed after the nightmare he had just been through, lack of sleep and conscious thought hitting at his mind and beating him into submission. You were right there for him… Smiling and telling him what a great life you had led indeed; how you were so… proud that he had chosen you, but that was always going to be the thing. Noa would have been proud of you… Never himself, you stuck this out, you did th--- 

His throat closed up in preparation as he lifted his large and sunken frame upwards, feeling the shift of the Earth under his body,  giving the Echo just one passing glance as if to say a minor ‘thank you’ for not taking him out. For allowing this. For taking him back to you. He could smell you. The richness and stomach-turning scent of your iron-clad blood mixing with that undertone that always drew him to you. Always brought him right back home. You did this… for him, for his freedom… Noa needed to repay you somehow.

Knees shattered straight onto the ground at the sight in front of his eyes, the stance large and sprinted as he literally tore himself into pieces to get his body down the small canal to reach you. Feet did not matter anymore, Noa uttered to himself, hands and feet, all appendages were on the ground, ignoring the deeply fascinated spring in his shoulder blade that was keeping the tendons there from eating at themselves. 

Alive, Noa needed the confirmation, unsure where the abysmal grunt he made came from as he rounded your body, his hands differentiating themselves into the leaf encrusted ground. Yelping to himself, Noa bit down on his tongue to get you into his one good arm, his body slamming itself against the tree you had once been propped up against, eyes trying to ignore the patch of hair that had been yanked right of your skull that rested in a crevice in the bark. 

“I---So…” Noa breathed through his nose paced and quickened. The comprehension he had pulled together for himself shattered right before him and he had no power to stop it as he got you between his legs, letting your form drape against his chest and the uproar of your weight against his damaged insides was enough to keep him awake. “Wa… What… did you do… Stupid Echo...” How he sounded like Anaya in that moment as he scolded and tore into Noa for even implying that he wanted to mate with you. How that moment in time had been lost to the Ape for almost four months, how he… Lost you because he believed Anaya’s ignorance, to no fault of his Sunset Brother. He was right; Noa caressed your blooded head in his good hand and craned your neck to look at your face. You were so stupid… So reckless, more so than any Ape he had ever met.

All of this, his green gaze slid down and turned itself upside down at the blood that smeared against the front of your thinned t-shirt, nothing there to protect the skin that Noa wanted to bite from scratches and tears from the ground below. “Please…” He whispered to you and readjusted the hold he had against your face, tenderly pressing his calloused finger pads into it with a silent plea that spoke more than the words he was able to say at the time. 

Noa brought his face down to your mouth. Breathing… He could feel it against his cheek, rustling against the nature of his flurried fur. So good… Bottom lip quivered as he drew downwards to your chest, ignoring the desperation his body was asking for him to stop the jerks of the muscles and to rest. There was no time, he yelled at them in a biting tone, there was no time because you were…

Heartbeat… in your chest, he could hear it in his eardrum when he brought himself down upon your blistering ribs. Noa stammered, barking at his right arm to get itself together so he could cradle you properly, to hold you to him if this was the only chance he was going to get. Only mildly successful in that, he tugged your entire weight on top of him, the position awkward and crinkled as Eagle Sun came to rest in front of him. 

‘Go,’ He signed at the bird, ‘Urgent. Must tell Mother, Soona. Echo…’ Noa swallowed hard and held the back of your head against his shoulder, the utmost promise of the moment that he was not going to let you go again no matter what came upon you two. “Echo still alive. Go!” Such an easy command for such a complicated and tempered bird that resembled Noa in ways he wished he was unable to not notice.

Stubborn, the Chimp felt his breathing staggering uncontrollably at the ease you slumped against him, the torment of his shoulder reminded him that everything had a cost but the cost was paid time and time again. “Eagle Sun,” He whispered to you and pressed the entirety of his face into your hair and drew in the deepest breath he was able to muster with the torture it took to even breath normally. “He will… bring… Soona and Mother… Save… Save you… Stay…”

There was no way to ignore the fact that you were bloodied beyond recognition, Noa swallowed hard at that and brought you down to look at again. His eyes traced the familiarity of your features. The sweep of your eyelids, eyelashes flashing against your cheek bones, the bruising and swollen nature of your lips, the cuts that eradicated the sweet nature of your body. From the top of your forehead all the way down to the mangled despair of your legs... Noa whined deep in his chest.

You were here… You were back! Noa chanted inside of his derailed train of thought, hoping that it was enough to keep him motivated until the two other Apes came to help. “Stay… with me…” He urged you, pressing his forehead lightly against your own, to no response but Noa pressed on, moving inwards to the point where he felt another deeply antagonistic shatter occur in his ribs. He’d heal from that, but if he lost you there would be nothing left to heal.

“I cannot… do this… entire…” Noa felt the moistening under his eyes, creasing into the wrinkles that were more prominent from lack of rest and juxtaposed aggression and self-loathing. “This entire thing without… you need…” Exaltation was no relief for the Ape as your head lulled to the side and Noa found himself enthralled in the slower beating against your jugular. Carefully, he raised your unresponsive body to him and there was a brief moment of contact that his lips had against your neck. If you couldn’t support yourself, he’d do just that until you were healed. Until you were brought back to him.

“You do this for me…” Noa bargained and bared his teeth against the fleshy part behind your ear, “Do this for me and I… Will… forever… be yours… Mate, friend…” Noa bit lightly at the skin, the taste of blood on the surface skyrocketing whatever thought processes he had left. Not enough to break the skin, but just enough to let you know his intentions whether you were consciously aware of them or not. Aware of his arms holding you, aware that he was there to see you before you eclipsed. Noa felt his teeth chattering as he bit down again, this time with more vigor. “Mine… I will not let… you go again…”

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Noa was able to hear Eagle Sun’s screech. Close, he thought, close, close, close… His head was pressed into your chest, keeping time with the dimmed nature of your heart and imagining himself living in a different time. You… Were in the nest, Noa rocking both your bodies as he still had you in a tight embrace. Yes… Yes yes… In the nest that you two shared, years from now… Noa’s head was resting against your chest and he was taking in the nature of your bare skin under his fur, your fingers tickling themselves into the fur of his head and scratching at his skull.

He’d purr for you, eyes raising themselves to what Noa wanted to imagine as a cheeky grin. Mates, he whispered to you and found himself allotted between your open legs much like that vision he had of you two before he found his way back to the living… That thinking was so much better than the lifeless form he had against him, though that itself was something he never imagined happening. 

“You… be alright… I promise…” He whispered against your chest and tried to ignore the feeling of dread that played around at the front of his mind, eyes dropping themselves in a state of exhaustion. “We will take you back to the Clan,” Brushing out your hair with his good hand, Noa plucked a few twigs from the sediment that had built itself into your strands.

“Heal… You…” As if beckoning him, Noa pressed his forehead onto your sternum and rested there in a crouched position, the only part of your body hitting the ground below being your legs that Noa was too afraid to wrap into a tight coil so he could embrace your entire form like he had wanted to for so long. “You… will be alright… Noa… Does not break… promises.. Anaya… Soona know… So my Echo… should know that…”

There was a jolt against him, barely detectable in normal circumstances but given the heightened and intense nature of the atmosphere that surrounded your two bodies, Noa felt it. The shift of your breathing from shallowed to lesser so, the windy nature of your mouth breathing so relaxing despite the call for water to coat your throat, words unable to seep through, barely able to draw into the twinkling dawn that was drenching the landscape and rained from the leaves above to case your form with delectations of shadows that appeared to dance with the most gentle of breezes.

Noa was afraid to look up at your face as he nuzzled himself further into your chest, clutching at your back with his damaged right side as tightly as he could in case you were slipping away from him. Soona, Dar… Too late, he figured, seeing Eagle Sun fly himself to a perch on the fallen over tree nearby. “Too late, Sun…”

“N…”

His ear prickled.

“N… No… Noa?” There was a dreadful wheeze in your throat, your eyes pressed together from mud and tears that clotted right around your eyeline and cemented them shut. “Noa.”

“(Name).” He’d never sounded so desperate, slightly envious of anyone who had a neck that was able to move quickly as Noa found his actions too slow to bring his head up to gaze down at you. The Ape spoke again, this time more clearly. He was dead; he had to be there was no way… Noa churned his head forward to stifle a condensed cry. “(N-Name).”

Your name sounded so strange… Muffled like you had sand in your mind that was pouring itself into an hourglass. The countdown was unknown as your stiffened arms attempted to move first and you found your fingertips touching coarse fur. If you had it in you to smile, you were sure that was the expression on your face as you carded your way into it, “I can---... I can’t bre… Breathe…” As evident from the wheezing, Noa figured and grasped the side of your face, urging you once more like you had for him hours ago to just… Look at him. Once. That’s all he needed, all Noa wanted as he felt the hand that had flushed into his fur touching at his bare skin, inches below the coating of warmth he had all around his entire body. “Can you…” Noa’s hot breath felt good against your cold cheeks, “Look at me?”

“Mm….” Grumbling that deeply inside of your throat, you knocked your head from side to side and was ardently reminded of the suffering that followed suit as you cried out, grasping a handful of his fur tight between his fingers. “Did th… the… clan….”

Noa laughed at that, trying to keep himself steady for you at the sick and twisted irony that you were more worried about the Clan than even yourself. “We… are all safe… all… In the woods. I have… Soona, Mo-Mother coming to help.”

“Noa…” You crinkled a bit of a soft sob, feeling the prickle of them against your eyes that gave enough lubrication for you to open ever so slightly to look at him through the peaked crusts. How you wished you hadn’t as you cried out again, this one more straggled against him. The light burned at your dirty retinas, the visual of Noa’s tattered shoulder still severely fresh in your mind, “I-I’m so…--- So sorry…” “Stupid Echo to apologize.” You whimpered at that. Some attempt at a laugh it was, it was pitiful in all descriptions of the word and tapered into a dull sounding whine. “Sounds li-like Anaya… Not Noa.”

“Well, Anaya stupid too…” Noa uttered and began tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. Slowly, back and forth and it was a bid to get you to at least smile at him rather than staying solemn of emotion as if you were unable to differentiate that in your mind. “Got hit over the head… He… is okay,” Noa knew you were going to ask that, guilt already laden in your stance against him as you were trying to pull yourself up from the tinkering of your injuries. Soon, Noa’s hold on you told him, Dar and Soona would be here soon to look you over to make sure you were alright… “You… are okay? I thought you… were gone… I could not… feel you with me anymore…” Parting your lips felt energy wasting as you did just that, your lips ghosting over a few words. You wanted to confirm to him that you were essentially dead. That you wanted to be if it meant that he was safe, the cough that split from you was nothing short of ghastly as blood poured itself onto your chin, Noa looking at the darkened color with innate fear and desperation to protect you as his fingers wiped it off and smeared you like you were wearing the more delicate casing of paint. “Should not speak… Should not… move… Hurt… Don’t know how ba… badly…” “You---” There was a pause as Noa admired your fluttering eyelashes, bringing his mouth down to trickle right against him and that… Garnered him something, finally… A smile and a chrotle from the back of your throat at the feeling as you were reaching to the highest Heavens now to get your senses back. “N-need to know before I go…” “Don’t say that.” Noa was firm and kissed your lids slowly before dragging his face down to hover parallel to yours. “Please… Soona… Mother…”

“I’m sor…sorry for everything.” Coughing again, you were fast to bring your entire body upwards as a reaction to the shooting pain that was lining along your ribcage. Noa moved with you as one, grasping at your back and keeping you sitting up. “No… Where I’d rather be than wit… with you… Right now.” “Stay with me…” “I’m so tired, though…” Noa slid the hand from your back to hold the back of your neck so he was able to stay face to face with you as you leaned against his good shoulder, taking in the delicious way that your body so willingly conformed against his own. “I ha… had dreams… earlier…”

Noa felt his jaw twitch watching in wasteful sorrow as your mouth fell ajar, breathing slowly and softly for him. “Tell me… Everything…”

“About us,” Blood was seeping from your mouth, Noa swallowing hard as with each word, a bit more came down and coated at your throat. “Y… think we cou… Could have… made it?”

“Always.” The Ape was so self-assured with that as he drew his mouth against yours, barely grazing, barely indented but it was there and your lips responded every so flatteringly to the motion. As quick as he was there, Noa was pulling away with your blood against his lips. “I need… you to stay with me here… Please…” He whimpered.

“Y.. know… I never… Felt romantic love…”

“(Name).”

Cracking the smallest of smiles that were thrusted with nothing more than bloodied intentions garnered in the heat of saving someone you loved, you laughed bitterly. “You… made me re… really see it… Feel…” The fingers that you had in his fur carded themselves once more as if you were savoring the feeling for the last time, “Noa… I can… Can’t thank you enough fo…”

“Please.” “Say it to me… Please…”

Noa snarled at you, not intentionally but out of slacked self control. “Not until you come back to me completely…” “Yo… you stubborn Ape.” Laughing again hurt as you drew your body into his own, your chest collapsing against Noa’s scorned fur there. 

“Yo… You know how I feel.” Noa was quiet as you tucked your face into his neck and sniffled lightly. “You ar… Were meant to be mine, you cannot leave… me like this…”

“You kn-know how… I feel…” Your voice was muffled against his thickened fur as you squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling of pressure inside of your chest. “Mated…” “Always.” “Yo-You would take me as a Human?”

“Human?” Noa asked and shook his head adamantly at your choice of words. “You are my Echo… and I will take you… Part of my Clan, part of me…” Looking up, he caught eyes with Soona and Dar who were now just coming up the embankment and captivated a look of approval at their arrival. “I will be with you… You need to stay with me…”

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[fandoms--fluff]

Hey I was wondering if you could do another os yn mikaelson Hope baby sister we’re when Hope has to go to school like something happen and yn appears magical in Alaric office and scream like a little girl that scared yn and macke her cry the super scuad hires and go to se what happened and Hope sea her baby sister

The Best Big Sister

Flufftober, October 7th

Baby female Mikaelson reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: none

a/n: I cant tell you how much I love writing big sister hope

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You crawl around the house, you've been crawling for what seems like forever, and still no sign of your big sister. Where is she?

Your Mama and Dada seem perfectly fine and they don't seem to be worrying about where Hope is. But you are, and you want to make sure she's okay and she's not gone forever and you want her. You feel lonely. You have your parents and then your uncles and aunts, but it doesn't compare to your big sister.

You slump back down onto the ground, your back leaning against one of the walls in Hope's bedroom.

As you think of Hope and how much you want her, a tingly feeling goes throughout your entire body. One second you're on the ground of your sister's room, and the next you're sitting in a small office room. It kind of looks like Uncle Elijah's study.

You hear a scream from across the room, only to see a grown man that you have never seen before.

"Holy shit!" Alaric explains, jumping up from his office chair, and walks towards you.

Hearing the unknown man's loud voice makes your face freeze up before big tears start falling down your cheeks. Not long after, your silent tears turn into wailing.

Alaric's face pales, not knowing what to do. Sure he's had twin girls that he raised, but he doesn't know what to do with a baby that just magically appeared in his office.

Before he knows it, five teens fill the office in alert. That is until they see who's making the noise and that the headmaster is doing nothing about it.

"Why do you have a baby?" Kaleb asks, breaking the silence. "Well, she just appeared and when I sort of yelled, she burst out crying.

Hope makes her way to the front of the small crowd and recognizes you instantly. "Oh my god, y/n, how are you here?" Hope says quietly and kneels in front of you.

Your wailing comes to a halt upon hearing your sister's voice. She picks you up into her arms and cradles you against her chest before standing back up. She turns to face the others who have confused looks on their faces.

"How exactly do you know a baby?" Lizzie asks, wanting to know straight away.

"She's my sister, I'm pretty sure it would be weird if I didn't know my baby sister" Hope answers her with a raised eyebrow. "You have a sister?!" Lizzie exclaims.

"I thought you knew?" Hope turns to Josie to confirm it. Josie was the one who had found out when she walked into Hope's room while she was on a video chat with Hayley, and you were in your guys' mother's arms.

"She does. I did tell you, Lizzie, that Hope has a little sister" Josie turns to her twin. Hope told her that she was only allowed to tell Lizzie and to make sure that no one else would find out except the two siphoners.

"I thought you were joking about that" Lizzie states, staring at you. You look back at her, making eye contact.

Hope sighs and rolls her eyes, it's ironic how the one in this school who basically knows everything about everyone thought that a crucial fact her sister told her, was a joke.

"Why didn't we get to know any of this?" MG speaks up, referring to Kaleb and himself.

"I'll let you think it out, you'll get there eventually" Hope quips, before walking out of the office, ignoring the protesting calls from Alaric that she can't keep a baby in the school.

Like she'd ever keep her sister here with no one to watch over you 24/7 because she has classes.

When she gets up to her room, she shifts you to her hip and brings out her phone to call your guys' dad. As she dials the number, you nuzzle into the front of her shoulder, rubbing your cheek against the soft fabric of her shirt.

"Hey Dad, by any chance are you missing a cute little baby that goes by the name of y/n?" Hope smirks, noticing Klaus' distressed answer to the call.

"Yes, why?" Klaus answers immediately. "Don't worry anymore, and stop looking. She's with me. She somehow did a spell by accident, im guessing, and wound up in Headmaster Saltzman's office. She's alright and byt the looks of it is about to fall asleep, so I can maybe drive up back to the house and drop her off tomorrow?" Hope asks since she wants to spend a night alone with you, and she secretly has a bin of things for you if you ever happen to have come here anyway.

Klaus agrees after some persuading, and she hangs up. "Time for some big sister and little sister time!" She quietly exclaims and kisses the top of your head.

[starillusion13]

Yunho×reader fic,where yn is divorced from mingi,and yunho is also divorced(Both are recently divorced).

Mingi wants yn back,so he calls her to meet in a resto,but there she meets yh who is an old frnd,they greet e/o. Mg gets a Lil jealous....(This was just a beginning in my head)

Can u make it plz(if u hav time)

Never Yours

Pairing: bff!Yunho x f! reader (husband! Mingi x wife! reader: divorced)

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, bff2l

Warning: Mingi is a toxic husband here, using reader’s feelings, neglecting and ignoring the reader…basically he is a bad guy who doesn’t know how to care for others. Shouting in public, divorce, bestfriends to lovers, confession, fluffy moments. Except for the angst scenes, everything is pretty normal.

W.C: 4.6k Network: @k-vanity

[Please read the note in the end.]

🫧

“y/n, this is not working how I wanted.”

How he wanted…

Your husband’s sudden serious tone made you look towards the entrance of your bedroom, knowing all the unspoken words behind that particular sentence. Not working--- nothing works between you two after the marriage. Why didn’t one of you think about this before everything started? It started out as a normal hangout with both of you meeting each other at Yunho’s house and that’s how some common topic sparked a connection between you and Mingi.

Yunho has been your best friend since elementary school and when he found out about your little affection towards his friend, he obviously supported your feelings, of course hiding his own behind the smile.

Still, he warned you about Mingi’s irrational behaviors and his characters that he and other friends find a bit problematic to deal with. But you ignored these comments. Love is blind. You never noticed that Mingi’s attraction towards you was not out of love but a pure obsession. He observed his friend’s subtle glances towards you and your oblivion self not noticing the obvious state of your best friend. And that’s how he took the best opportunity to approach you, to get so near to you that it made Yunho distant even farther from where he was.

Mingi is always a step ahead from his friend and so he successfully blocked Yunho’s perspectives from your eyes. He treated you like a princess in his university days. You three were always seen together but after getting into the relationship with the youngest one, Yunho made himself busy with joining a painting class. You are well aware of his passion for paintings and pouring his emotions into it.

Three years of university love led to the day of marriage.

You still remember the look Yunho gave you when he handed you an invitation card on the day of your wedding. Your confused eyes staring at him earned a chuckle and he patted your head, “come to my wedding……with Mingi.”

“your wedding? All of a sudden?”

He gulped and nodded before turning around and disappearing into the crowd of people spread across the grand hall. Mingi came up beside you, snaking a hand around your waist, following your way of vision, finding no one particular in sight and glancing towards the envelope in your hold.

“What's this, love?”

He noticed your absence of response and pulled you closer to repeat the question when you glanced at him and to your hand, “Yunho’s wedding invitation card.”

He smiled, “oh…he is marrying? So sudden?”

“yeah, I asked him about this but he didn’t say anything.”

He kissed the side of your head, “let’s not think about this. This is our day.”

Yeah, that was the only last day when it felt like yours.

You loved Mingi with all your heart but for him it was all just a game of obsession. To win everything over his friend. Not into marriage for more than a year, he started to show his hidden true self which was all hidden behind his façade of love.

The glints of his unusual behavior were all displayed in front of you since the first day but you never cared to notice them because you loved him. you wanted him as a part of your life. You wanted his love.

You noticed him staying outside the house longer than usual. Him ignoring your texts and calls and blaming you for the roughness in your relationship.

The same remark—the relationship between you both is not working how he wanted. How did he want it? And what about your side? Does he care to listen to you? Simply, No.

He never cared for you. You were a bait for his pride. Getting the most popular girl of the campus and the beautiful girlfriend making him a lucky bastard in his friend’s group was all he wanted. The hurt and lost expression on Yunho’s face was enough to boost his ego. Smirking to himself, he pats his friend’s back, “get a girl, dude. You look so lonely these days. What happened?”

Yunho would glance at his friend and just smile.

 ‘You took away the most precious part of my life.’

.

.

.

It’s been six months that you have parted your ways with Mingi. One might wonder how you got out of his obsession. Lily, the only daughter of the rich business partner, offered a huge deal of money and who is he to ignore the offer. His statement that you both are not working together leads to the divorce between you two. You didn’t question him and never tried to reason to try it in a different way.

You didn’t even cry because all those sleepless nights and hopeless days have not left a single piece of feelings to stay back in yourself. You left his house without turning towards him for the last time. And he didn’t even call you back when you closed the door behind your back.

It was a Saturday afternoon when you were chatting with your school friend when you suddenly got a text from a person whom you didn’t want to keep in touch with but somehow it turned out that it was not the same from his end.

‘Can you meet me today?’

Why? You wanted to ask him. your fingers trembled and tears slid down your cheeks, remembering how he texted you for the first time after he got your number.

‘Hey! It’s nice to meet you.’

You should not have proceeded your friendship from that part. You should have just remained as a passing stranger or a casual friend. 

You stared at the message of him texting you to meet him today. All of a sudden? Why? You don’t know, not even having a hint of the meaning of his text. Before you could dwell on the thought more, your phone started vibrating, indicating you had a call. The same person. Your mind didn’t process what to do further and you swiped the call button to green.

“hello, y/n.”

Why does his voice still have the same effect on you like it had during the university days? Why is he making you regret leaving him? Why do you still care for him? why?

Why can’t you forget him?

“Mingi…”

“Are you free today?” His voice was low and he was patiently speaking to you as if there was no hurry like the other days when he didn’t have a bit of a time to look at you for a second.

“yes.”

“can you please meet me today at your favorite restaurant?”

“but we are no longer like before. Don’t forget you gave up on me.” you pressed your lips tight and prevented yourself from crying into the call. You couldn’t let him know about your weakness. You don’t want to feel stupid, the way you were stupid in love with him. even though you wanted to say so many things to him yet you decided to stay silent, hearing him calling your name when your tears were flowing down your cheeks.

“please…we should talk about everything. You didn’t utter a word when you left me.”

I left him? And he did nothing? It was not his fault? He is not guilty for anything. So he is blaming you for all these?

“There's nothing to talk about. we are done.”

“please. I want to say sorry.” He quickly murmured his apology when you denied to meet him.

After a few more requests, you agreed to meet him in the evening. When you agreed to meet him, he quickly cut the call. As expected from him. Why did you agree to meet him? Are you out of your mind? What will you do? What will you say after meeting him? you don’t know but still you want to clear your mind off and there’s so much to confront him.

Back of your head hit the mattress and your blank eyes staring at the ceiling, when the thought of your best friend came across your mind. After both of your marriages, you never contacted him because he changed his contact details, isn't active on social media and also moved to a different country with his wife. Mingi doesn’t like you to have contact with any other boy and so you didn’t want to try to contact him.

The last shared moment between you both was—

“Congratulations, Yunho. I wish you a great and happy life ahead.”

He smiled and rested his palm over your cheek, thumb caressed the skin and his eyes following how your eyes were sparkling and you were smiling brightly at him. you were glowing in front of him.

“I hope you are happy, y/n.”

no other shiny thing could compare your radiance and he knew one thing.

Mingi is really a lucky bastard. He always gets everything whatever he wanted before him.

How is Yunho doing out there? He must be very happy with his wife. It’s been two years since you have last seen him, talked to him.

.

.

.

A simple straight peach coloured knee length dress with a little no-makeup look with your hairs resting on your shoulder, you reached the restaurant.

As soon as you entered the glass doors, you looked around to find the familiar face which you swore once to never come across again but here you are searching for him again. You stopped in your tracks when you found him sitting at the table near the wide window. You took a step back when you found him smiling with someone on the call and you thought to turn around and return back home.

But your trance broke when someone held your forearm and whispered your name, “y/n…”

You quickly glanced to your side, eyes going wide when you noticed who the person was.

“Yunho… is this real?”

He nodded and left your hand when he noticed the table at the far end where you were looking at previously. But to his surprise, you hugged him and pressed your face against his chest, “ I missed you, Yunho. Where were you all these years?”

Hesitatingly, he raised his hand to pat your head. The warmth of your body against him, the tears staining his shirt and your fist clutching him. the main reason for your tears was meeting him after years or you were overwhelmed with Mingi’s apology?

Actually you wanted an embrace in which you could cry. And you chose to let your heart out to Yunho in spite of Mingi. He caressed your hair, few people glanced in your direction but neither you nor Yunho cared about it. He was desperate to know everything from you, he could feel that you were crying not only because of him but there’s something more you were hiding. He knows you too well, more than yourself.

When his eyes again went to that table, he saw the raging eyes glaring back at him. Mingi was not happy with the moment you both were sharing. As if you would love the moment with him. He stood straight from his chair, keeping his eyes fixed on you and started walking towards you.

Yunho averted his eyes from his friend and looked down at you, stroking your hair, he whispered, “y/n, Mingi is here. He doesn’t like us to meet like this.”

You shook your head in his embrace, refusing to part from him when he tried to pull you back. He was confused yet deep down he wanted to hold you close like this the whole day. Whatever he wants with you is always achieved by his friend and it makes him feel jealous to say less. He wants to steal you from him. even if it’s possible. What about you? Would you like to accept him the way he wants you?

“Yunho, long time no see. How come you are here in this country? Vacation?”

Mingi’s voice bloomed in the light chatter of the people surrounding you. As a reactive action, you pulled apart from Yunho and stayed beside him, looking down and collecting your composure.

Yunho forced a little smile and nodded, “yeah. I’m on a vacation, just to spend time in my home country for a while and then go back.” You could hear a hidden hurt in his voice, you both have spent so much time to notice this even after so many years.

“Where is your wife? I don’t think she would like to see you here being so close to another woman.” Mingi had a mockery in his tone. He never leaves a chance to make Yunho realize that you are not his and never would be.

Yunho cleared his throat and replied, “we are divorced.”

Divorced?

“divorced?” your soft voice made him look at you and he smiled before patting your head. His usual activity whenever something problematic is going on in your life or his and he would pat your head as a sign not to worry about it. He would be fine and could handle it on his own. “What happened, Yunho?”

Mingi chuckled irritatedly. You mentally scoffed at the audacity of him laughing at the situation.

“don’t worry about him, y/n. I suppose he will get another one.”

“Shut up, Mingi. Don’t think everyone is like you. I wonder how you both are friends when he is so unlike you.”

“y/n-“

“no, Yunho. Let me speak. I have had enough. Enough of him.” you raised your voice making the oldest quiet and confused while the youngest one had a wide smirk on his face. He was enjoying the scene you were creating in front of all the people in the restaurant. You could feel the stares and low whispers all around but you were on your spot and wouldn’t let this chance slip to make him realize, “stop your games here, Mingi. Nothing is serious to you in this life. You seem to believe everyone and everything to be working according to you. No, it’s not. You are wrong here.”

“and what makes my wife believe that this is wrong?” Mingi folded his hands and titled his head when he chuckled, clearly amused by your act.

You hissed and grabbed the collar of his black shirt and glared, “I am not your wife anymore. Don’t forget that you and I are not related anymore. And I regret the fact that I even have to associate myself to you as your ex-wife. I regret everything. I regret my six years because of being with you. You destroyed my life, Mingi.”

Ex-wife…you are divorced. This news was shocking to Yunho and the way he was looking at you didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He clenched his jaw when he felt that he still has that adoration and love in his eyes for you. Tears were flowing down your eyes and you cared less for your appearance because you wanted to care for your heart which was lost in an endless feeling of hurt.

“Because of you, I did everything that you have told me. I have loved you so much that I distanced myself from everyone because you never liked others to be around me. I was blind to notice that you wanted me as your puppet and all you wanted to show off to others. You have used me in every step of your life, in the end, you blamed me that our relationship is not working because of me. It's because it's not working how you wanted. And what about me? Have you ever thought about what I even wanted? Why did you make me dream of things which you will never be part of? Why Mingi why?”

You were shouting at this point and Mingi was losing his temper hearing your words. Each word slipping out your mouth was irritating him. He himself knew that you were not his love but his obsession. A game to win. To win over Yunho.

“what the fuck are you saying, y/n? be in your limits.”

“I won’t.”

“y/n-“

 A loud sound echoed in the area. You slapped him. the thing which you would have done long ago. You don’t know from where you got the sudden courage today but you were proud of yourself to not hesitate to let it all out. You needed this and now a little relief settled inside you.

But the thing you didn’t expect is an arm wrapping around your shoulders and a pair of lips touching the side of your head with a whisper, “My good girl.” Looking towards the owner, you realized Yunho was smiling at you but before you could say anything he looked back at Mingi and glared.

“I suppose this hurts your ego and image so if you still want to insult yourself you can stay here. But I won’t let her be here anymore, especially with you. I don’t know what exactly happened between you two but I know for her happiness and to see her smile, I can do anything.” Yunho pointed a finger at his friend, “and I won’t ever let a single drop of tears fall from her eyes. And the things you did to her, I will make you regret it.”

“She is not yours.” Mingi rubbed his cheek and brushed his shirt. Mingi smirked when he saw the fuming rage of Yunho hearing his statement but Yunho chuckled, making you both confused.

“and you couldn’t keep her as yours.”

When the youngest extended his hand to grab your bicep, Yunho grabbed his wrist and clenched his jaw, “don’t even fucking touch her. Get lost from here.” He breathed heavily and continued, “I don’t fucking care where you want to go but we are leaving this place right now.”

“Yunho-“

“Keep quiet, y/n. we are leaving unless you want to repeat the mistake again.” He has never spoken to you in such a low and demanding way. He waited for your move to see if you refused to go away from him but you squeezed his hand tight and nodded, which as a signal to him, he smirked at Mingi.

He took your hand in his and turned around but as soon as he stepped outside the glass doors, he pointed at a particular car and told you to go there and he would be coming in two minutes. The hesitation of being left alone was well aware to him and he himself didn’t want to leave you but he had to go inside for once. Eventually you stepped towards the car and his eyes followed until you stood beside it and looked at him. He gave you a smile and went inside the doors again, he met Mingi on the way and stopped him.

“why the hell are you here?” Mingi asked in a frustrated way.

Yunho chuckled and patted his shoulder, “just to let you know one final thing. Even if you tried to win her over me. she was never yours. She was always mine to start with and I got her back from you.” Giving a final smile, he went back to his car.

As soon as he reached near it, he saw you petting a cat and wiping your tears.

“y/n…let’s go somewhere.”

You stood up straight and furrowed your brows, “where? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“y/n, have I ever told you that you are a bother to me? ever in this whole life since the day we first met in our childhood.” He smiled softly and cupped your cheeks. You shook your head and smiled when he planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

It took almost thirty minutes to arrive at the cliff. Both of your favorite places and the place where you could relive your memories. You were lost in your thoughts until he opened the door for you and extended his hand with a smile on his face.

Standing at the edge of the cliff, you let the fresh cold air caress your face with closed eyes. Yunho was enjoying the city view from where he was leaning against his car and his way of vision stopped at you, a smile automatically spread across his face. He admires you a lot…hell…he loves you a lot.

“y/n…”

“How is life, Yunho? Is it different from how you thought?” you asked him and turned towards him, mimicking his posture against the car.

He bit his lips and looked up at the sky, “I don’t know. I felt like I was lost when you got married.” He looked towards you and smiled, “I felt I am nothing without you.”

You laughed at him, if it were other times, you would have teased him for these lines but somehow neither of you were joking right now and you both were well aware of this. You are lost without him too.

“Me too.” You breathed out.

He furrowed his brow, “what do you mean?”

You took his hand and stared at it. The size difference between you both always makes you smile and it still has the same effect on you, “I have not seen you for years and today I feel like I got myself back again. Thank you.”

“what happened between you and him?” he was hesitant to ask but still as your best friend, he felt like asking you, to know what made you two separate…for good. At Least he was glad that you got to know about his real intentions maybe.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” your sudden question perked his ear up and he inhaled when your innocent childish face flashed in front of his eyes…the first time he saw you in the school courtyard. He nodded, “yes.”

“did you feel like you got everything you wanted?”

I got you but you never were mine.

“Maybe…” he wanted to say more than a word but your questions were puzzling his mind and not getting the answers he wanted. “But why are you asking me this?”

“coz Yunho…I felt like I was in paradise when I fell in love with Mingi. I had everything and I was happy…but I didn’t realize it was all just an illusion to trap me in his game. I was blind for him. I ignored you for him. I gave up everything for him. I couldn’t differentiate between right and wrong. I was lost in a void of lie. I-“

He pulled you in front of him and hugged you tight, pressing a long kiss on top of your head, “I know, y/n…it’s okay. You are here with me. We are here together. He can’t separate us again.”

“he was everything to me…but I was never his.”

“but you are always mine. Sorry if I’m late.” His arms around you tightened and your hold faltered. Mine?

You looked up and he was smiling but still you could see tears, “why are you crying, Yunho? Aren’t you my strong boy?” you wiped his tears. You haven’t seen him so weak in front of you. In childhood days, he had cried to you so many times but as you both grew up, he became a tougher and stronger guy, hiding his emotions behind his smile and always distracting you from all the negativity by his goofy side.

“I love you, y/n. I love you so much. Fuck…whenever you are with me, I feel like to keep you away from everyone. Today, after all these years, I realized how much I love you even more than I could realize. I think about you everyday. I have loved you everyday and I don’t why you are the only one who can make me feel like this.”

You cupped his cheek and he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of your palm, “I married her to get over the fact that I was deeply in love with you. Seeing you in the bridal look made me realize that you won’t be ever mine. I have lost you. You were standing there in the most mesmerizing look with a hope in your sparkling eyes for him…not for me.”

“Yunho…”

He opened his eyes to meet your starry eyes under the night sky, “you could have said to me earlier.”

“but I was never yours.”

“And I was never his. I was just an obsession.” Tears fell from your eyes.

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, “but you are my dream. Everyday I felt like to fall asleep forever just to see you for once where you are mine.”

“kiss me, Yunho. Don’t wait any more, you have already wasted these years. Before you lose me forever, make me yours. Make me feel like how it is to be someone’s dream.” You smiled before he pulled you in a kiss.

A kiss for which he waited from the day he tried to confess to you.

So this is how it’s like to be yours, y/n.

The slow rhythm of lips, the desire in each other’s embrace, the warmth of love, the admiration in their eyes and moreover the love they can feel in the kiss. The cold air surrounding the warm embrace they were sharing under the dark night with twinkling stars like the twinkling hope for each other.

Parting from the kiss, he pecked your lips and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t want to lose you ever. From now on, wherever you go, I go.”

“I love you, Yunho. I should have realized this back then when I had a crush on you but I always thought that you were interested in other girls and I was just a best friend. I was so shocked that you never told me about your lover but suddenly handed me your wedding invitation.”

“I never loved her.”

“So you only married her to forget me. Using her?” You stared at his brown orbs and glanced how his brown hair was blowing in the wind.

He shook his head, “no. She knew it already. She even stayed up late at night when I couldn’t fall asleep. She was a good person and I helped her to run away with her lover. It was all planned to settle in a different country.”

“Thank you, Yunho. You still remained as a good person, a person I fell in love with. I don’t want to lose you too. You are perfect, Yunho and this hurts me.”

“You are my perfect dream.”

“But I exist in reality.” You chuckled lightly and he laughed heartily before pulling you to his chest.

You tightened your grip around his body when he hummed and resteda his chin on top of your head, “tell me I am not dreaming like always and you are finally mine. I am yours and he didn’t snatch you away from me.”

You kissed his chest, “even if this is a dream. Let’s not wake up together. Let’s be like this forever and dream of each other like this. You are mine and I’m yours, Yunho.”

“I always felt like I was never yours but now I feel like to be with you for eternity. Let’s run away.”

You smiled and closed your eyes in his embrace, “together.”

[Anon <3 I hope this is okay with you. I feel so emotional whenever I write for Yunho. I should declare officially that he is my bias. Anyways he is MY MAN 🎀]

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. So basically I guess you have come across my recent posts regarding me abandoning all my smut fics and drafts coz of an issue. But yeah! There’s a thing I can do, I can omit the smut parts and post the fics. How about it? Would you guys still read it?

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[runawaysiren940]

Here's the full script for the most recent video, minus where I ad libbed:

Dr. Moumita Debnath, a 31 year old doctor trainee, was found dead on August 9th, 2024. After taking a break half-way through a 36 hour shift, her corpse was found on a blood stained mattress. Her body bore the wounds of torture, from the wounds to her eyes, her pelvis, genitals, arms and legs. As noted in The Publica’s report, “The post-mortem report also noted that over 150 mg of semen was recovered from the doctor’s body, indicating that up to 30 men could have been involved in the violation of Debath’s body. The normal volume of semen produced by a male upon ejaculation typically varies from 1.5 to 5.0 mg, according to the online medical encyclopedia MedlinePlus” (Biase). Her family was told that she died via suicide, though her wounds made it obvious that this was not the case; however, this claim allowed the principal of the school to avoid filing a police report. The attempts to hide the crime did not succeed, and have resulted in protests across India and the medical industry, both in response to the lack of protections for medical staff, and because of the attempt to hide the crime. 

In the aftermath, searches for footage of Debnath’s gang rape have trended, as “According to Google Trends, queries such as “Moumita Debnath porn” and “Dr. Moumita Debnath video” have experienced surges across India, with “Moumita Debnath rap[e] video” experiencing a 110% increase in searches. As of the time of this writing, of all the queries associated with her name, “Moumita Debnath photo video” is the 5th most searched in India, while “Moumita Debath last video” is the 12th most searched overall” (Biase).

This isn’t the only horrific case of gang rape, torture, or extreme violence against women. In fact, back in 2023, Vidya Krishnan wrote an opinion piece published in the New York times on the topic titled, “In India’s Gang Rape Culture, All Women Are Victims”, where she writes: 

It is the specific horror of gang rape that weighs most heavily on Indian women that I know. You may have heard of the many gruesome cases of women being gang-raped, disemboweled and left for dead. When an incident rises to national attention, the kettle of outrage boils over, and women sometimes stage protests, but it passes quickly. All Indian women are victims, each one traumatized, angry, betrayed, exhausted. Many of us think about gang rape more than we care to admit.

In 2011 a woman was raped every 20 minutes in India, according to government data. The pace quickened to about every 16 minutes by 2021, when more than 31,000 rapes were reported, a 20 percent increase from the previous year. In 2021, 2,200 gang rapes were reported to authorities.

But those grotesque numbers tell only part of the story: 77 percent of Indian women who have experienced physical or sexual violence never tell anyone, according to one study. Prosecutions are rare.

Indian men may face persecution because they are Muslims, Dalits (untouchables) or ethnic minorities or for daring to challenge the corrupt powers that be. Indian women suffer because they are women. Soldiers need to believe that war won’t kill them, that only bad luck will; Indian women need to believe the same about rape, to trust that we will come back to the barracks safe each night, to be able to function at all. (Krishnan)

Just from recent memory, I can recall several other horrifying cases. 

In a rare case of justice, in May 2024, a pair of brothers were sentenced to death for the rape and murder of a 12 year old girl. To hide the crime, they then burned her alive in a coal furnace. (The Hindu Bureau)

In 2012, 22 year old Jyoti Singh was “beaten, gang-raped, and tortured in a private bus in which she was travelling with her male friend, Avnindra Pratap Pandey. There were six others in the bus, including the driver, all of whom raped the woman and beat her friend.” She later succumbed to her wombs, while her friend supposedly committed suicide. (Khan)

Many rape cases end with the woman dead. It is horrifying to me, from across the globe, to know that women live under constant threat of sexual assault, and while all assaults are horrific, the cases which break into the international news sphere from India are especially cruel and disturbing. It is the culmination of a deeply traditional and patriarchal society, wherein the devaluation of women is compounded with caste and religious issues, along with the rise of pornography. Porn is the instruction, and rape is the practice; though clearly, there was no need for instruction. 

Famous cases include:

The Suryanelli rape case, where in 1996, a sixteen year old was lured with a marriage promise, kidnapped, and was raped by 37 men during her forty day captivity. Although initially 35 of 39 accused were found guilty, in 2005, all 35 convicted were acquitted of charges. 

The Pararia mass rape, where in 1988, at least 14 women were gang raped by the police force, and had their homes looted after they protested against being removed to make way for a damn being built. “India Today reported Sinha's concluding statements were: "It cannot be ruled out that these ladies might speak falsehood to get a sum of Rs 1,000, which was a huge sum for them." (Bonner)

In many caste altercations, women are targeted because to rape a woman is not done just to her, but is meant to be an insult to the community and the community’s honor. In an environment where religious and social conflict occurs, women are especially vulnerable as targets of sexual violence. 

However, what the internet has provided is an avenue to share the debasement and horror of gang rape with other men. It prolongs the suffering and harm to the victim and her family; but also serves as a warning to other women, and as an enticement to other men. Come, they say. Look at what we did. See how we were despicable and got away with it? You can too. 

A 28 year old tourist and her husband were robbed, then man beaten, and the woman, raped by seven men in March of 2024. Since they have taken down the video detailing the event from their social media, I will not show that here, or go deeply into detail. However, in the reactions to the incident, one can note a pattern of behavior, not just from Indian men, but also women. 

The BBC reported: 

“The chief of India's National Commission for Women, Rekha Sharma, also sparked criticism after she responded to a post from a US journalist who wrote that while India was one of his favourite places, "the level of sexual aggression" he witnessed while living in the country was "unlike anywhere else I have ever been". He also gave a couple of examples of sexual assault faced by women he knew.

"Did you ever report the incident to police?" Ms Sharma wrote. "If not then you are totally an irresponsible person. Writing only on social media and defaming whole country is not good choice."” (Sebastian)

Victim blaming is constant, and serves as a deterrent from seeking help, reporting incidents, or enacting change. In the aftermath of the 2019 gang rape and murder of 27 year old Priyanka Reddy, Indian filmmaker Daniel Shravan ranted on social media that  “The government should encourage and legalize rape without violence,” and, “Girls above 18 should be educated on rapes and not deny the sexual desires of men.” He also went on to say that, “Rapists are not finding a way to get their bodily sexual desires [met],” which is compelling them to kill.” (“After a Woman in India was Raped and Murdered, Her Name Trended on Porn Sites”). Because assault and violence against women is so common in India, it makes sense that victim blaming, from both sexes remains so strong, as “according to Inside Southern, the reason for victim blaming is: “People may blame a victim in order to remove themselves from an unpleasant event and therefore confirm their own invulnerability to the risk. Others may perceive the victim as different from themselves if they label or accuse the victim. People console themselves by saying, “Because I’m not like her, and I don’t do that, this would never happen to me.”” (Ram).  In other words, it a pacifier, a way to manage the dread that comes with realizing the ubiquitousness and unpredictability of sexual assault. If there is something you can do to avoid being assaulted, then it must be her fault. And you must be safe, because you don’t make those choices. 

That men make up a large contingent of the judges and lawmakers that in turn pass the laws which allow rapists to walk free iillustrates the universal truth that Anna Maria Mozzoni, a popular Italian feminist theorist, wrote about in 1895, “You will find that the priest who damns you is a man; that the legislator who oppresses you is a man, that the husband who reduces you to an object is a man; that the libertine [anarchist] who harasses you is a man; that the capitalist who enriches himself with your ill- paid work and the speculator who calmly pockets the price of your body, are men.”

It’s easy to forget when the violence is not happening in front of you, when you can excuse it, or look away, or claim that there are forces at play that you don’t understand. It’s easy to say that the problem is with a people or a religion- 

But the truth is that woman hating is universal. A passing interest in anthropology will only show the manifestations of this hatred in creative ways throughout space and time.

Works Cited

“After a Woman in India was Raped and Murdered, Her Name Trended on Porn Sites.” Fight The New Drug, December 2019, https://fightthenewdrug.org/woman-in-india-raped-and-murdered-her-name-trended-on-porn/. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Biase, Natasha. “Name Of Female Doctor Who Was Gang Raped And Murdered In Indian Hospital Appears On Porn Sites As Men Seek Out Footage Of The Assault.” The Publica, 19 August 2024, https://www.thepublica.com/female-doctor-who-was-gang-raped-and-murdered-in-indian-hospital-appears-on-porn-sites-as-indian-men-search-for-footage-of-crime/. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Bonner, Arthur. “Pararia mass rape (1988).” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pararia_mass_rape_(1988). Accessed 21 August 2024.

The Hindu Bureau. “Two get death for raping, burning alive minor girl in Bhilwara.” The Hindu, 20 May 2024, https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/rajasthan/two-sentenced-to-death-by-pocso-court-in-rajasthan-court-for-raping-burning-alive-minor-girl/article68195867.ece. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Khan, Aamir. “2012 Delhi gang rape and murder.” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2012_Delhi_gang_rape_and_murder. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Krishnan, Vidya. “Opinion | In India's Gang Rape Culture, All Women Are Victims (Published 2023).” The New York Times, 2 June 2023, https://www.nytimes.com/2023/06/02/opinion/india-women-rape.html. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Ram, Anjali. “Never Ending Tales Of Victim Blaming And Shaming.” Feminism in India, 12 December 2022, https://feminisminindia.com/2022/12/12/never-ending-tales-of-victim-blaming-and-shaming/. Accessed 21 August 2024.

Sebastian, Meryl. “Outrage over Brazilian tourist's gang rape in India.” BBC, 3 March 2024, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-68444993. Accessed 21 August 2024.

[yourwosogirly]

don’t you dare - Ruesha LittleJohn

Word count: 2.7k

ruesha and I sat on the balcony of our hotel room. we were at the women’s world cup, and it was a dream for all of us. luckily, I had been paired with ruesha which came with benefits of our new blossoming relationship.

it was just the pair of us tonight, which was quite lucky. as much as we loved our amazing teammates and friends, it was nice to escape the chaos for once which lead to us in this position, me in her lap, her kissing my shoulder as we enjoyed the cool breeze as the sun dipped below the horizon.

“baby, stop”i giggled, squirming under her touch, trying to push her away as she kissed my shoulder .

“no, aren’t I aloud to show my love for you?”she whined, burying her head into my shoulder, continuing her movements despite her protests as I held onto her tightly .

“baby, as much as I love this, your being clingier than usual, you okay?”i said pulling away, my hands on mg shoulders as she sighed .

“It’s just”she stuttered, not from nerves but I could tell she was just trying to get her words out so I stroked her hair and kissed it, showing her I was there.

“you know, with the whole Katie thing, it was so rough and I was struggling a lot, but you got me through it, I am only this happy because of you, you got me out of that dark place but I’m just so grateful to have you”she looked up at me with love in her eyes.

“rue”i said softly but she cut me off slightly, placing her finger on my lip.

“don’t talk”she whispered, her voice suddenly hoarse as she grabbed my neck and well, in PG terms, snogged my face off .

~~

“ow, what the fuck, katie?”I groaned, now on the ground from a subtle chip katie had given me making me grab my ankle in pain.

“watch your back”she smirked and walked away as the ref played on and luckily I was able to get to my feet with the help of rue.

“you okay?”she asked and I nodded.she patted me on the back before we both jogged back to our positions.

I narrowed my eyes at katie from across the field, I didn’t know what was up with her, I knew she was quite an aggressive person on the field but never to her own teammates and I know I was dating her ex but she had no reason to dislike me.

and it wasn’t just on the field either in training their had been aimless tackles that I had just brushed off or I saw her always glaring at me from across the cafeteria where I was sat laughing with rue but I didn’t worry too much .

that was until she has sent another tackle your way, clearly directed at you and not trying to get the ball, from her own team.you let out a wry cry as you banged your fist into the grass, holding your ankle in pain.Katie sent another aimless threat in your ear, and stood up not without spitting down on you .

“baby, can you get up?”rue crouched down in front you holiday our her hands and you tried to push yourself up but couldn’t and fell back down.

“no,no,no”you mumbled and ruesha bit the inside of her cheek, seeing your face filled with pain and she waved the medic over.

they took ages to get there even though I was clearly in a lot of pain which infuriated rue but I managed to calm her down enough to stop her from lashing out.one touch to my ankle got me screaming bloody mary so they quickly got me on a stretcher.

“baby, I’m coming off”rue told me adimantlty but I shook my head, already knowing she was gonna do this as she held my hand tightly, walking to the touch line.

“no, rue”I just told her sternly, letting go of her hand as I was lead to the medical room leaving rue staring down the tunnel, my figure becoming blurrier to her by the second .

meanwhile, in the medical room I kept quiet as I was out on a medical bed as our physio, joanne checked over my ankle and I waisted in anticipation, glancing my eyes over the tv screen in the corner of the room that displayed the game I was in not too long ago, every once in a while .

I was pulled out of my trance as I felt my ankle being tapped by joanne.I could see she had wrapped it up and held some ice against it .

“right y/n, so it looks to me that you’ve got a sprained ankle, right now all we can do is rest it up and keep it elevated, but don’t stress you should be able to start the season”she told me with a smile .

“yeah, that’s fine”i muttered quietly listening to her words as I took a sip of my water which was besides me.

knowing I wasn’t gonna be able to play in the rest of the tournament sucked but I knew that it was for the best. I guess if you look at it from one point it was no stress I could just enjoy the rest of my time in aus and with rue.

I had the option to go outside seeing as their wasn’t long left of the game and I had nothing else to do but I decided against it and watched from inside. sadly, we lost which didn’t feel great but what could you do? I still felt very proud of the girls and what we had accomplished.

the medics had gone back out by now, leaving me alone in the room, but I let them, wanting a little bit of time alone.

I was scrolling on my phone when I heard the door open and I looked up, thinking it was rue but it was quite the opposite.

the last person I wanted to see right now.

“katie”i said emotionless turning my head to look up at the ceiling avoiding all eye contact as she came towards me and sat at the end of my bench.

her energy was totally off, and I didn’t like it, nor her, one bit .

“hi, y/n, doing well?”she asked smugly with her arms across her chest and her voice was laced with sarcasm.

“no thanks to you”i said with a smirk on my face and we both fake laughed together before both our faces turned blank.

“yeah let’s just cut the crap katie, what’s your problem?”i said abruptly and she looked kind of taken back but that quickly changed .

“you.your my fucking problem”she told me angrily, our foreheads touching, that was how close we were .

"katie, I don't understand what your fucking problem is with me, people very rarely hurt their teammates, especially on purpose"

"we may be on the same team, y/n, but that doesn't mean we're friends" she leaned closer to me, pretty much on top of me as our noses were pretty much touching.

“I still don’t understand what I even did to you?”i asked confused and it was true I had always been very civil towards her even though we weren’t close friends .

she groaned, rubbing her head in frustration. “ugh, I don’t even know why ruesha goes out with you, your so infuriating”.

“oh so that’s it, your jealous? pathetic, I mean you have a girlfriend get over yourself”i told her rolling my eyes and i choked back a shocked gasp as she grabbed my chin harshly.

“just stay the fuck away from rue, or your gonna have a lot more than a sprained ankle”katie said, her voice deepening and i visibly gulped.

“baby are you okay?”she pulled away from me suddenly as rue barged into the medical room, stopping in her tracks as she saw me and Katie thigh to thigh.

“oh Katie, what are you doing in here?”ruesha paused, her voice slow in confusion.

“just came to check in on y/n”Katie gave her a fake slash sinister smile and slapped her hand around my shoulder making me feel uncomfortable. I looked between the two girls, this whole situation was very awkward.

“oh okay, you mind giving us some privacy?”ruesha asked nodding her head to the door.Katie nodded and got up to leave but not before she leaned down and whispered in my ear.

“you better do what your told, or your gonna have a lot more than a sprained ankle”she pulled away and I gulped at her words. then suddenly it was just me and rue.she came over and sat down next to me .

“baby, you okay?”she asked, making me lean on my shoulder as she wrapped her arm around me .

“yeah, it’s just a sprained ankle”i said nodding and she smiled, kissing me forehead, thankful that it was nothing too serious.

“okay, that’s good, you just gotta rest up, and are you sure your okay your acting a bit weird and your face is pale”she said moving her hand to touch my cheek.

“I’m fine, rue, just a bit tired”i told her pulling away from her slightly and she looked at me weirdly like she didn’t fully believe me but eventually nodded.

~~

“baby, why is the door locked?”I heard ruesha shout through the door making me lift my head up from my pillow which was now wet from tears.I looked at the door seeing the handle rattling and continuous knocking from rue. she must have forgot her key.

“nothing rue, just go away”i almost shouted, trying to get her away as quick as possible, but I was stupid to underestimate rueshas stubbornness.

“no, what’s gotten into you?, open the god dam door, y/n”she gave a loud bang against the door with her fists, putting all her might into it as she rested her forehead against it .

I knew she would go as far trying to break down the door or going back down to reception to get another key card so I quickly rushed into the bathroom, trying to make myself look presentable but my face was blotchy with blood shot eyes which was a clear signal that I had been crying.

“hi”i whispered, keeping my head down as I opened the door and ruesha rushed inside .

“what the fuck, y/n?”she raged confused by my weird and distant behaviour but her words made me flinch slightly and gave her a few of my face.she haltered in her place, stuttering slight not sure what to say.

“omg, y/n”her face softened immensely, hands coming up to cradle my face.I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from crying but this was a sign the floodgates were about to open. “what’s wrong, baby?”.

and I broke.sinking to the ground, her arms going around me and pulling me into her chest as she did her best to calm her down but to no avail she just aloud me to cry into her chest which would become soaked with tears but that was at the back of her mind right now .

she continued to hold me tightly, not wanting me to feel rushed as she brushed back my hair so it wasn’t in my face and whispered sweet nothings in my ear.

once I had calmed down enough that I would be able to talk with just small staggered breaths, rue picked me up by my legs, walking me to the bathroom and sat me on the counter.it was silence as I played with the skin of my nails while rue got a clean towel and wet it to dab it over my eyes which she knew would start to burn from exhaustion.

“here”she mumbled, giving you the cloth and you mumbled a small thanks back to her starting to pick at the material, looking at the ground.anywhere other than rue.

“you wanna talk to me about it?”she asked in her strong accent, leaning against the counter and rested her hands on my thighs, rubbing them in comfort.

“no, it’s not important”i shrugged, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, even though she was the person who I should’ve felt safest to confide in.

“not important? baby I’m sorry, but it’s gotta be pretty important if I’m worried sick when my girlfriend locks the whole world out and then once I get to you, you break down in my arms”she told me and I sighed as she lifted my chin to look into her ocean blue eyes .

“I’m sorry rue, I can’t”I told her after a few minutes of silence, Katie’s words ringing in the back off my mind.

“why not, huh? why the fuck not? okay I haven’t mentioned it but we’ve been so happy, you make me so happy and all of a sudden you become distant and then I find you in a state like this? oh and acting weird when I saw you with katie..”she trailed off, watching me with a pointed look as I shifted when she mentioned her exes name and looked down at the ground uncomfortably.

“baby?, something you want to tell me?”she asked, grabbing my hands and intertwining our hands together and I looked up at her .

“rue, it’s nothing”I told her shaking my head but we both knew that was a lie at this point.

“y/n, you tell me or I’m going to find out”she told me, brushing hairs out of my face and I knew I could no longer hide this from her .

“okay, so the reason is, we have been really happy, but that isn’t enough for some people, and umm, when you saw me with katie she was threatening me to stay away from you or she’d hurt me, and obviously I didn’t so in the game against canada, the tackle was by her and in the medical room and in spair time she’s been messaging me”I decided to tell her everything and I felt a massive weight being taken off my chest and I even handed my phone so she could see .

“rue”i asked after I watched her eyes scan over the messages and she closed my phone her eyes closed and she had been as quiet as a mouse.I touched her arm and that was when she snapped.

“that fucking bitch”she snapped, slamming my phone down on the counter and storming out the bathroom and then the door to our hotel room and down the haul.

“rue, wait!”I screamed, but she didn’t listen and I quickly slipped off the counter and raced out or our room to follow her and she knocked loudly onto room 23, Katie’s room.

megan opened the door, confused and her eyes widened seeing rue but the blonde payed her no mind, rushing in towards Katie and I followed not long after, but I stayed by the door frame.

“are you fucking joking?”ruesha fumed, grabbing Katie off her bed where she was on her phone and pushed her against the wall.

“woah, rue!”lucy exclaimed followed by a few other gasps throughout the room at the sudden action but rue just glared at them and they all turned silent.

“what’s your fucking problem?”katie asked disgustingly looking up at rue as she tried to move away and escape her hold but couldn’t so she just huffed.

“you.your my problem, who do you think you are threatening my girlfriend?”ruesha glared down on Katie .

“Oh please I’m aloud to do what I want”Katie said smugly, crossing her arms against her chest, not caring about the dirt looks she was being given .

“why!why do you fucking do this?you can’t just leave someone I love alone can you?, you can never suffice with the fact that I can be happy, work or without you”rueshas hands raised to her hair in frustration.

“cause she doesn’t deserve you!”she let out making everyone in the room look at her shocked .

“you can’t deserve what I do or don’t deserve, anymore. you have no fucking right after everything I did especially since you found someone else and so did I, so let.it.go. fuck off out of our lives!”she raged.

“rue, please”i rushed forward, tugging on her arm slightly trying to get her to stop, I didn’t want her to get into more trouble or worse, get hurt. she looked at me quickly from the corner of the eye and her face softened slightly.

but she turned back to katie, making me think she hadn’t listened to me and her glare hardened, grabbing a fistful of her shirt and leaning in. “your fucking lucky I found y/n, or I’d beat the shit out of you”.

she pulled away from katie, making the shorter girl shrink back in shock feeling embarrassed and defenceless but ruesha paid her no mind, grabbing my arm and pulling us back to our hotel room.

In love with this fic

[taro-pdf]

Humans are Space Oddities: Humanity, Diplomacy, and Disability in Space

---

“Has the translator arrived yet?” 

“Yes Ser, she’s sanitizing her clothing and then will go straight to the docking bay.”

“Good, make sure she’s on time. Ser Hei is here in three hours, and we can’t have anything going wrong.” The captain paced up and down the command room of the Yenna. The space fae, Hei, was coming for a diplomatic discussion about setting up a trade route through xir solar system. If this talk didn’t go well, their ship may very well not make it back. 

---

Three hours later, exactly on time, the dock bay doors opened with a hiss, and a short humanoid figure with brown skin and wild, weightless locs walked through. So this was Hei. Xir reputation preceded xir, and there was not another being so powerful within 1,000 light years. The captain hurriedly stepped forward, only to fall back as xi bared xir teeth towards them, then spoke in a foreign language.

“Uh,” they looked confusedly at the translator. Though translators would work in Hei’s tongue, xi preferred to hear xir own language, and who were they to deny xir?

“I don’t take kindly to your advances. I brought my beings, and will not have you within two meters of them,” she supplied. Behind Hei, a tall being ducked under the door, glowing faintly—a light alien. Holding to xir robe entered a female human with loose brown hair, wearing human attire: a T-shirt and shorts.

“Greetings Mg. Captain,” said the light alien. Then to Hei, “what a nice ship this is.” Hei smiled warmly, then dropped xir expression as xi turned toward the captain again.

“Guang and Fern will be exploring your ship as we talk.”

“Of course, Ser Hei, they will not be bothered. Now, shall we move to the conference room?”

---

While Hei went to discuss politics, the tall being and human went sightseeing. Guang reached out a hand to brush dust off the top of a parked ship. It preferred to keep things tidy, but few were tall enough to see the dust that it could. When it looked down, Fern was gone.

---

Kell was a human technician aboard the Yenna, a spacecraft specialized in human recreational transport. They knew most of the crew on board, and this one wasn’t one of them. She was obviously distressed, pacing up and down the narrow corridor and wringing her hands. 

Kell opened their watch to link their translator to the hers, but no connection appeared. Looking again, she wasn’t wearing any watch. Since Kell was deaf, they only signed. While they could read and write UIPL, it wouldn’t help if the human had nothing to read it on. But the person needed help now, so Kell decided to try ASL.

Hello, I’m K-E-L-L, Kell, they signed slowly. You, they pointed at her, OK? They connected their pointer and thumb in the universal non-ASLsymbol. Or the french chef hand sign among some groups of humans.

She was not facing them head on, but she apparently caught what they said. She started to hit her hands together, one in a thumbs up and one flat in a repeating: Help! 

Ok! Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Kell reached out to calm her frantic signing, but she flinched away.

As they drew back, vibrations distracted them; something large was approaching. They braced themselves and turned toward the corner, from which a dim light was gradually growing. The being that appeared was talking. Its words scrolled across Kell’s glasses in a live transcription.

“Fern, thank goodness!” The tension left Guang’s body as it saw her, but she didn’t stop signing help. “It will be ok. This will pass and we will rest and go back home.” 

Turning to Kell, it asked, “do you have a room where the lights can be a dim purple? With a speaker for music? I’m her guardian, Guang, it/its, light alien.”

Thankfully, this alien had a watch.

Kell, they/them, human. I don’t speak, so I’ll text. I can take you somewhere, Kell texted back.

“Alright, one moment.” Guang turned to the human, speaking to her in a low voice but never touching her. Then to Kell it said, “let’s go slowly.”

Kell led the tall alien, and it in turn led the human, who held onto its robe. Once safely in the room, Guang adjusted the lighting and thanked Kell for their assistance. It asked for their contact code, which Kell gave. Though they hoped that it was not going to report them for making the human cry. It didn’t seem the type, but Kell hadn’t seen its species before, so couldn’t read its body language. Guang thanked them for their help once more and closed the door.

---

The captain sank into their chair. The talk went fine—no one died, thank god—but afterwards… they lost about ten years of their lifespan in stress.

It started with Hei suddenly standing in the middle of a sentence, eyes looking through the left wall, hands clenched. The gravity in the room doubled with the weight of xir emotion.

“Ser Hei, what may I do for you?” the captain gasped out, glancing between Hei and the wall.

“I’ll be leaving in two hours. Prepare my ship.” Hei swept out of the room, not waiting for an answer.

“Of course, Ser,” they inhaled deeply, able to breath again. They ordered the preparations be made and hurried to the control room to see where Hei had gone and what needed to be done in order to avoid damages. 

To their surprise, camera footage showed Hei sitting in a dimly lit room, mouth moving in quiet song. Besides xir sat xir partner, the light alien, and in between them, rocking back and forth, their human. After two hours, her rocking slowed and the trio stood. Hei cloaked them in darkness as they walked back towards the docking bay.

The captain and interpreter were there when Hei arrived. Briefly stepping out of the shadows, Hei addressed them.

“Your request is not granted. We will be keeping our solar system quiet. Travel may pass within five light years of my sun, but any closer and you shall not be seeing that ship again.” 

The captain flinched at the electricity that crackled in the air. What was it that bothered Hei so? What happened with the human? Why was Hei sparing them if they did something wrong? They didn’t risk asking, and the fae, light alien, and human left without another word.

---

Working on a panel of wires, Kell clicked their tongue to the rhythm of their music’s vibrations. It was rare to come across another disabled human in space, and even rarer that that human had real support. How lucky Fern was, and how excited Kell was for the invitation that Guang had promised to send to them. A human who they could connect with, and a chance to visit the planet of a space fae? Few could say they’ve had the honor.

---

For your information:

Mg. is short for Mage, and is a gender neutral title for Mister or Miss. Idea courtesy of @apolloendymion (link). Ser is a gender neutral title for Sir or Miss.

As for language, unless otherwise specialized, communication is in the Universal Interplanetary Language (UIPL), the language of trade and international politics. 

Hei uses it/its (UIPL) and xi/xir (birth tounge) pronouns. It prefers it's birth tounge and beings often default to what it wants, which is why the captain uses xi/xir pronouns even when speaking UIPL.

[onequeerhuman]

Ah, the opportunities (and the tension) Pt.1

larissa weems x oc!reader, fluff with tension

light descriptions of body

no major warnings

1.7k words

"Ah, Professor," she says softly, beckoning you to come closer, gesturing to one of the chairs. "What can I do for you today?"

« Good afternoon, Principal weems…. i was hoping we could have that meeting you booked for tomorrow today/right now, if possible? » you say, standing near the door to her office.

She glances down at her calendar, raising a brow as a small smile stretches across her face, nodding in response as she sets down the pen in her hand. “Ah, of course, Professor. Please, have a seat, we can start the meeting right away."

She gestures to one of the chairs on the other side of her desk, her eyes watching you as she waits for you to take a seat, crossing her arms.

« wonderful, thank you. » you smile lightly at her, sitting down carefully and smoothing out your skirt.

She gives you a small nod as she leans back in her chair, her piercing eyes watching you intently as you sit down, studying you for a moment before her red lips curve into a smile once more.

"I trust you've been settling in nicely at Nevermore, Professor? If I may ask, how have your classes been going so far?"

« quite well, i think. the students have been quite engaged so far— and no offence to whoever was maintaining the greenhouse prior to mg arrival, but i’ve managed to revive all of the plants and have properly organized them by species, variant, requirements and aesthetics» You tell her, playing with one of my many necklaces.

A small chuckle leaves her lips as she leans forewords in her seat, resting her chin on her folded hands as she listens intently with genuine interest. She nods in agreement, tapping her long nails against the table.

"Ah, excellent. The greenhouse has sorely needed a good overhaul - I'm glad to hear you're taking care of it. Your talents in botany are highly valued here at Nevermore."

You smile warmly at her praise “why thank you, Ms. weems”

She smiles back at you, her eyes slightly flickering away from you for a moment as she reaches out and grabs a file out of a drawer, sliding it across the table towards you.

"You're welcome, Professor. As for the purpose of this meeting," she takes a deep breath, folding her hands in front of her. "I was hoping we could go over a few things; how you're adjusting to life here, any issues or concerns you may have, and discussing the upcoming Rave'N event."

“of course, yes” you pick up the file, a flicker of a frown passing over your face for a split second though not going unnoticed by the principal before you begin reading the file, which seems to mostly contain information on curriculum, past experience with the botany professors, a few progress report questions, as well as a bit of information on the raven.

She watches you intently as you scan through the information in your file, taking a moment to take note of the flicker of disdain that crossed your features. Yet, she continues on with a small nod as she waits for you to finish reading.

"Of course. As a new faculty member, there are certain expectations and responsibilities that come with the territory." Her voice is smooth and calm, yet laced with discipline. "I would like to hear your thoughts on the curriculum, and if there are any improvements you would like to make to better suit our students' needs."

« mmn, well, as i can see here, most if the past professors has a less.. hands-on approach than i would usually enact in a class setting, especially with the students attending this school…. »

She nods in understanding, her eyes flickering across the page once more.

"Ah, I see. Yes, the previous professors had a more traditional approach to teaching, but I believe a more hands-on approach might be more appealing to our students."

She looks up at you, tilting her head slightly. "What kind of approach would you envision for the coming semester, Professor?"

a light sigh escapes your lips as you think, biting your lip as you look up to the roof for a moment, « well, » you say, « i’d probably adjust the curriculum so in the warmer months i could take the students to participate in a much more involved way, with the colder months being dedicated to the more clinical and dangerous aspect of the work… and although the education on these dangerous plants are quite important, i feel there needs to be an equal amount of focus on the positive, helpful plants for different species and just in general »

The principal's demeanor shifts ever so slightly as your eyes flick to the ceiling, watching as you bite your lip. As you continue to speak, she nods in agreement with your assessment, her eyes watching you intently.

"I see," she says, her voice filled with a faint sense of warmth. “That is an excellent approach, Professor. It's important to give attention to both sides of the spectrum - not just the dangerous plants, but the helpful ones as well. And being able to get out in the warmer months will certainly enrich the students' learning experience."

You nod « yes, i hope so » You respond, adjusting your position on the seat, secretly sitting with crossed legs underneath the large skirt you’re sporting.

Her eyes flicker down for a brief moment, before returning back up to your face. She gives you a small nod of approval, leaning back in her chair once more.

"Excellent. We will definitely take your suggestions into consideration for the upcoming semester." She pauses for a moment, letting out a small chuckle. “I must say, Professor, I'm quite impressed with your dedication to your craft. It's refreshing to see someone so passionate about their work."

« why thank you, ma’am. it’s quite a huge part of my life even outside of teaching, so i feel it’s important to encorperate my joy and wisdom on the subject into every aspect of my work »

She smiles earnestly, nodding in agreement once more. “Of course, Professor. It's always wonderful to see someone so dedicated to their passion. I think our students will appreciate your enthusiasm and expertise."

As she speaks, her eyes flicker over you once more, her slender fingers tapping the table. “You certainly have a lot to offer Nevermore with your botanical knowledge."

smiling back at her, you throw a part of your

hair over your shoulder, « thank you, i certainly hope so»

The principal's eyes widen slightly as she sees your blouse, her eyes trailing over the revealing cut of the top as she lets out a small chuckle. She takes a deep breath, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

"And it seems you have impeccable fashion sense as well," she retorts with a smirk, tilting her head to the side as her eyes rake over the top once more.

« hmmn? oh, why thank you ..i quite enjoy the style of the 70s/90s, this happens to be one of my favourite casual tops » you tell her, shrugging.

*The principal's eyes don't leave your body as you speak, her gaze fixated on your chest as her breath hitches for a moment. She clears her throat, sitting up in her chair and crossing one leg over another.*

"I must say, you wear it so well, Professor, especially in comparison to your usual clothing choices."

snorting lightly, your lips curving up in a half smile « thank you, principal, I do love my fashion, but i prefer to remain modest while teaching.. »

The principal nods in agreement,

"Modesty is a virtue, Professor," she remarks, her eyes twinkling with a subtle playfulness. “But I must admit, it's quite lovely to see this side of you - more casual ..and revealing."

smirking at that you chuckle, saying « oh, if you’re thinking *this* is casual, you should see me outside of school sometime, you’d be surprised at my state.. » as you run your tongue over your lips/teeth.

“Oh, is that so, Professor? I must admit, I'm quite intrigued," she purrs, her voice lowered to a seductive whisper. "Perhaps you could give me a private demonstration of this 'state' of yours."

A nearly unnoticeable flush is added to your cheeks at that, but you continue on.. “hmmmn, i certainly wouldn’t be opposed to that.. maybe you’d like to join me tomorrow- i’d had plans to go out into the forest for lunch anyways, and i certainly wouldn’t mind your company” you utter with a light smile, eyes a bit darker than before.

A mischievous smile spreads across the principal's lips, her eyes sparking excitedly at your offer. She leans back in her chair, tapping her fingers against the table once more as she nods eagerly.

"Why, I'd be honored, Professor. A picnic in the forest sounds like a delightful idea. And the chance to experience you outside of work is certainly an intriguing prospect," she says with a chuckle. "Tomorrow it is, then. I look forward to our little adventure."

“Wonderful, Principal weems, I will see you tomorrow near the edge of the woods at noon then… until then” You smile, voice more gravelly as you stand up and sway your hips a bit for emphasis whilst leaving her office, a smile playing on your lips.

As you leave the office, Principal Weems watches you, her eyes trailing slowly over your body. The principal's heart quickens at the sight of your swaying hips, a faint pink blush spreading across her cheeks as she imagines the picnic tomorrow.

“Until tomorrow, Professor," she whispers softly as you exit the room, her mind already filled with delightful thoughts of your upcoming rendezvous in the forest…

want more? lmk :) -bug

[thequeenofneverland1]

Klaus Mikaelson////My Little Wolf 

Anonymous request: Hi can I request where y/n is the daughter of Klaus and Hayley and Klaus gets protected when Landon asks y/n to the dance

Warnings: dark humor, Just Klaus being Klaus don’t read if you don’t like dark humor and Perhaps Violence and threats, but we all know how Klaus is when it comes to his daughter

As the daughter of Klaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall, you’ve always had a complicated legacy, but at the Salvatore Boarding School, you’ve managed to find your place. The grand halls of the school feel alive with history, yet they’ve also become a place of joy and friendship for you. Today, you’re surrounded by your best friends, the Saltzman twins, and the boys who make every moment more entertaining.

“Y/n, you’re late again,” Josie teases from her spot on the couch in the common room. Her dark hair is pulled back into a casual ponytail, and her warm smile immediately makes you feel at ease. She pats the spot next to her.

“Fashionably late,” you correct, tossing your apple to a nearest garbage can as you sat down.

Lizzie being the drama queen, lounges dramatically on the opposite couch, flipping through a magazine. “Please, Josie, don’t encourage her. She’s already got that ‘Mikaelson confidence’ thing going on.” She glances at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Which, by the way, you do wear well.”

You roll your eyes but grin. “Thanks, Liz. Coming from you, that’s basically a royal decree.”

MG and Kaleb are sitting nearby, locked in a heated discussion about who would win in a fight Batman or Iron Man. Kaleb waves his hands in frustration, trying to drive his point home, while MG shakes his head.

“It’s not even a contest!” MG exclaims, looking to you for backup. “Y/n, help me out here. Batman, right?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” you laugh, holding up your hands. “But if I had to choose… sorry, Kaleb, I’m team Batman.”

Kaleb groans, throwing his head back in exaggerated defeat. “I knew you’d side with MG.”

Across the room, Rafael and Jed are setting up for a game of pool. Jed is talking smack, as usual, but Rafael’s quiet confidence tells you he’s about to wipe the floor with him. You wander over to watch, leaning against the pool table.

“Need a hand, Raf?” you offer, grinning as you pick up a cue stick.

“Hey, no fair!” Jed protests. “If she helps, I’m done for.”

“That’s the idea,” you reply, winking at Rafael, who chuckles.

The afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and playful arguments. The twins, as usual, are the life of the party. Josie ropes you into helping her practice a new spell for class, and though you were feeling lazy. you were happy to help out. and Lizzie was making a big show of giving Kaleb a “fashion intervention,” which mostly consists of her mocking his choice of shoes.

When the group moves outside, the energy shifts into friendly chaos. MG and Kaleb challenge Rafael and Jed to a soccer match, and you’re quickly recruited to join in. The twins sit on the sidelines, cheering you on, though Lizzie mostly shouts tips about how to “look fabulous while winning.”

As the soccer game wraps up and everyone begins to disperse, you head back inside to grab a drink from the common room. The air is still buzzing with laughter and energy, but you take a moment to enjoy the quiet as you lean against the counter. Just as you take a sip of your water, the door creaks open, and Landon Kirby steps in.

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you. His usual easygoing demeanor seems a bit off. his hands are shoved into his pockets, and there’s a nervous edge to his smile.

“Hey, Y/n,” he says, his voice soft but warm.

“Hey, Landon,” you reply, tilting your head curiously. “What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck as he steps closer. “Uh, no ghosts. Just… thinking about something. Or someone.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Oh? And who might that someone be?”

He looks away for a moment, as if gathering his courage, then meets your gaze. “You.”

You smirked. “Well, go on. I’m listening.”

Landon takes a deep breath, his hands still fidgeting in his pockets. “So, um… about the dance that’s coming up, and I was wondering if… maybe you’d want to go with me?”

Your first instinct is to say yes. Landon’s sweet, kind, and charming in his own way, and you’ve always felt a connection with him. But then reality hits. you’re not just any girl he can take to a dance. You’re Y/n Mikaelson, daughter of Klaus and Hayley, and if Landon wants to take you out, there are some significant hurdles he’ll need to overcome.

You bite your lip, a flicker of amusement and sympathy crossing your face. “You know I’d love to go with you, Landon. But…”

“But?” he echoes, his shoulders tensing.

“You know my parents,” you say gently, though the weight of your words is clear. “And my uncles. And my aunts. If you want to take me to the dance, you’re going to have to ask for their permission first.”

Landon’s face pales, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Right. Of course. Your family. Mostly your father and his siblings.”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, all of them. And believe me, they take the whole ‘overprotective family’ thing to a new level.”

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process the monumental task ahead of him. “So, just to recap, I need to ask Klaus Mikaelson, the Original hybrid who’s probably already planning a hundred different ways to kill me if I mess up. Then Elijah, who’ll give me the most terrifyingly polite lecture ever. Even worse Kol, who might use his bat on me just for fun. Rebekah, who’ll probably critique my outfit before she even answers. And Freya, who might turn me into a frog.”

You laugh at his summary, unable to help yourself. “Pretty much.”

Landon groans, dropping onto the couch and burying his face in his hands. “This is a death sentence.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease, sitting down beside him. “They’re not that bad. Well, okay, maybe my dad is. But if you’re honest and show that you care about me, they’ll respect that. Probably.”

“Probably?” he repeats, lifting his head to give you an incredulous look.

You grin. “Look, Landon, they’re my family. They just want to protect me. If you really want to take me to the dance, you’ll have to prove to them that you’re worthy.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Worthy of the Mikaelson princess. No pressure, right?”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ll help you prepare. And for what it’s worth, I think you’ll do fine. My dad might even like you. Eventually.”

Landon doesn’t look entirely convinced, but the small smile on his lips tells you he’s willing to try. “Alright, Y/n. For you, I’ll face the Mikaelsons.”

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “Good. Because I really do want to go with you, Landon.”

He nods, determination settling in his features. “Then I’ll do it. I’ll talk to them.”

You can’t help but admire his courage. If Landon’s willing to face your father, uncles, and aunts just for the chance to take you to a dance, it’s clear that he cares about you. And though you know the road ahead won’t be easy for him, you also know that having someone like Landon in your life is worth the challenges.

After leaving the common room, Landon trudges down the hallway in search of his friends, his nerves still buzzing from his conversation with you. He finds MG, Kaleb, Rafael, and Jed hanging out in the courtyard, mid-discussion about some ridiculous bet Jed lost. As Landon approaches, they all look up, noticing his slightly dazed expression.

“Yo, Landon, you good?” Kaleb asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Not even close,” Landon mutters, collapsing dramatically onto a bench.

Rafael frowns, leaning forward. “What happened? Did Y/n turn you down or something?”

“No, she didn’t turn me down,” Landon says, waving his hand weakly. Then, after a moment’s pause, he groans and adds, “But I might not live long enough to actually take her to the dance.”

MG looks concerned. “Why? What’s going on?”

Landon sits up, his expression half serious, half comically panicked. “I need you guys to help me find a coffin.”

The group exchanges confused looks.

“A… coffin?” Jed repeats slowly, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Yeah, you know, the thing you put dead people in,” Landon replies, gesturing wildly. “Because as soon as I ask Y/n’s dad for permission to take her to the dance, I’m going to need one. Klaus Mikaelson is going to kill me!”

Kaleb bursts out laughing, slapping his knee. “Man, you are in deep. Asking Klaus Mikaelson for permission? That’s like asking a lion if you can borrow its cub for a walk.”

“I know!” Landon groans, throwing his hands in the air. “And it’s not just Klaus. It’s his siblings as well. I’m walking into a den of Original vampires! They’re going to tear me apart!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” MG says, holding up his hands. “Are you seriously telling us that Klaus Mikaelson, the literal Original hybrid, is the gatekeeper to you going to a dance with Y/n?”

“Exactly,” Landon says, his eyes wide. “And I have to convince him I’m not some pathetic mortal who’s going to ruin his daughter’s life. Which, spoiler alert, is exactly what I look like to him!”

Jed snickers, leaning back in his chair. “Honestly, this sounds like a ‘you’ problem, bro.”

“Wow, thanks, Jed,” Landon snaps, throwing him a glare.

Rafael shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “Okay, but why do you need a coffin?”

Landon stares at him, deadpan. “Because after Klaus kills me, I don’t want to end up in some unmarked grave. I want to at least look presentable at my funeral. Y/n deserves that much.”

The group erupts into laughter, and even Landon cracks a small smile despite his dramatic mood.

“Don’t worry, man,” Kaleb says, clapping Landon on the shoulder. “We’ll make sure you get a top-tier coffin. Gold trim, velvet lining the works. We’ll even put ‘He Died For Love’ on the plaque.”

“Very funny,” Landon mutters, though he can’t help but chuckle.

MG grins. “Honestly, Klaus probably won’t kill you outright. He might just dangle you off a balcony for a bit. Or, you know, chase you through the woods with a werewolf pack.”

“Gee, thanks, MG,” Landon says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Hey, at least you’ve got guts,” Rafael says, smirking. “Not a lot of guys would willingly walk into the Mikaelson lion’s den just to take one of the ladies to a dance.”

“Yeah,” Kaleb adds, his grin widening. “And if Klaus doesn’t kill you, it’ll be a great story to tell your grandkids.”

“Oh, fantastic,” Landon groans, standing up. “So, I’m either going to die, or I’ll be the guy who narrowly survived asking Klaus Mikaelson for permission to take his daughter out. Great options.”

“Look on the bright side,” Jed says, his tone mockingly cheerful. “At least you’ll be famous around here. ‘Landon Kirby: The Guy Who Almost Dated a Mikaelson.’”

The laughter starts up again, and despite his nerves, Landon can’t help but join in. If nothing else, he’s grateful to have his friends to help him laugh through the impending doom he’s about to face.

The next day, Landon decides it’s time to prepare for the most terrifying conversation of his life: asking Klaus Mikaelson for permission to take you to the dance. He enlists the help of his friends, though it quickly becomes clear that their idea of “help” is more about entertainment than actual support.

In the school’s common room, Landon stands in front of his friends, fidgeting with his shirt as he clears his throat. MG, Kaleb, Rafael, and Jed are seated on the couches, eagerly watching the spectacle unfold like it’s the most entertaining show they’ve ever seen.

“Alright,” Landon says, exhaling slowly. “Let’s do this. One of you be Klaus.”

“Dibs!” Kaleb shouts, immediately sitting up straighter and crossing his arms. He puts on an exaggerated British accent. “Well, well, well, Mr. Kirby. What makes you think you’re worthy of my daughter?”

Landon groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Klaus doesn’t sound like that, Kaleb.”

“Fine, fine,” Kaleb says, dropping the accent but keeping the intimidating glare. “Proceed, mortal.”

Landon glares at him but takes a deep breath and begins. “Mr. Mikaelson, I’d like to ask for your permission to take Y/n to the dance.”

Kaleb leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “And why should I let you anywhere near my precious little wolf? What do you have to offer, huh? Strength? Power? Immortality?”

Landon stammers. “Uh… well, I’m a nice guy, and—”

“WRONG!” Kaleb bellows, slamming his hand on the armrest. “You’re weak. Pathetic. And you can’t even turn into a wolf!”

MG bursts out laughing, nearly falling off the couch. “Kaleb, you’re being too much!”

“I’m channeling Klaus, man,” Kaleb defends, grinning. “You think he’s going to go easy on this guy?”

“Okay, okay,” Landon says, holding up his hands. “Someone else try. Rafael?”

Rafael shrugs. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot.” He stands and adopts a more measured, calm demeanor. “Alright, Landon. Let’s hear it.”

Landon relaxes slightly. “Mr. Mikaelson, I know how much Y/n means to you, and I promise I’ll do everything I can to make her happy and keep her safe.”

Rafael nods thoughtfully, then says in a low voice, “And if you fail, I’ll rip your heart out and feed it to the wolves.”

Jed howls in laughter. “Oh, that’s perfect. Raf, you nailed it.”

Landon groans. “You’re not helping!”

“Okay, okay,” MG says, stepping in. “Let me try. I’ll be the reasonable version of Klaus.” He stands and smooths his shirt, putting on a calm yet authoritative expression. “Landon, why do you think you deserve to date my daughter?”

Landon nods, taking a deep breath. “Because I care about her, and I’ll always treat her with respect. I’ll never let anything happen to her.”

MG crosses his arms, tilting his head. “You realize she’s stronger, faster, and deadlier than you, right? How exactly do you plan to protect her?”

Landon falters. “Uh… well, I—”

Kaleb cuts in, unable to resist. “Oh, I know! He can throw himself in front of danger while Y/n does all the actual fighting. That’ll impress Klaus!”

Everyone laughs, and Landon throws his hands up in frustration. “You guys are impossible!”

“Alright, alright,” Rafael says, standing and patting Landon on the back. “Let’s try again. This time, just be confident. Klaus respects strength, so don’t stammer or backpedal.”

Landon straightens his shoulders, nodding. “Got it. Confidence.” He takes a deep breath, squares his jaw, and looks at Rafael. “Mr. Mikaelson, I’m here to ask for your permission to take Y/n to the dance. I care about her deeply, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove myself to you.”

The room goes quiet for a moment, and Landon starts to feel like he’s finally getting the hang of it. Then Jed ruins the moment by chiming in with, “And if Klaus kills you, can I have your Xbox?”

The room erupts into laughter again, and Landon slumps onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. “I’m so dead.”

“Don’t worry, Landon,” Kaleb says, grinning. “We’ll make sure your funeral playlist is fire.”

“Very funny,” Landon mutters, though he can’t help but crack a small smile. With friends like these, at least he’ll die laughing.

Landon stands outside the Mikaelson mansion, staring at the large, ornate door that feels more intimidating than any creature he’s ever faced. The evening air is cool, but he’s sweating as he rehearses his words in his head one last time.

“Mr. Mikaelson, I’d like to ask for your permission to take Y/n to the dance. No, wait.-“ Klaus. Just Klaus. Be respectful but not too stiff… ugh, I’m so dead.���

He raises his hand to knock, hesitates, and almost turans to leave. “Maybe this is a bad idea. I could just text Y/n and say I.-“

But before he can finish the thought, his hand moves on its own and knocks twice. The sound echoes ominously, and his stomach churns.

Moments later, the door swings open, and there he is. Klaus Mikaelson in all his terrifying glory. Klaus is dressed casually, but there’s an air of power around him that makes Landon feel like he’s shrinking by the second. Klaus looks him up and down, his expression unreadable, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

“If you’re looking for my little wolf,” Klaus begins, his tone clipped but not entirely unfriendly, “she’s not here. She’s out shopping with her mother and aunts.”

Landon swallows hard, his throat dry. He almost says, Great, I’ll come back later! but instead clears his throat. “Uh, no, sir. I’m actually here to, uh… talk to you.”

Klaus raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Talk to me, is it? Alright, then.” He steps aside, gesturing for Landon to enter. “Come in.”

Landon steps through the doorway, his nerves intensifying as he takes in the grandeur of the Mikaelson home. The place radiates history and power, and it doesn’t help that every creak of the floorboards feels like it’s announcing his presence to the entire house.

“Have a seat,” Klaus says, leading him into the living room.

Landon’s heart sinks further when he sees who else is waiting there. Elijah Mikaelson, impeccably dressed as always, sits in an armchair, sipping from a glass of bourbon. His calm, composed demeanor somehow makes him even more intimidating. And then there’s Kol, lounging on the couch with a mischievous grin, as if he’s been waiting for something or someone to entertain him.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Kol says, his tone laced with amusement. “Landon Kirby, isn’t it? What brings you to our humble abode?”

Landon tries to muster a smile but fails miserably. “Uh, hi. Yeah. Um… I just wanted to.-“

“You’re nervous,” Elijah observes, his tone polite but pointed. He sets his glass down and folds his hands in his lap, his intense gaze locking onto Landon. “Why is that?”

“Nervous?” Kol smirks, leaning forward. “You don’t think he’s here to ask for something, do you, brother?”

Klaus walks into the room, standing beside Elijah, and crosses his arms. His expression is calm, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes that keeps Landon rooted to the spot.

“Well?” Klaus says, tilting his head. “If you’ve come all this way to speak to me, Mr. Kirby, then speak. I don’t have all night.”

Landon glances around the room, realizing that all three Mikaelson brothers are now watching him like predators sizing up their prey. His mind blanks for a moment, and he almost considers making a run for it. But then he remembers your smile, the way you encouraged him to try, and he forces himself to stand a little taller.

“I… I’m here to ask for your permission, Mr. Mikaelson,” Landon begins, his voice shaky but determined. “To, uh, take Y/n to the dance.”

The room goes still. A heavy silence fills the air, and Landon swears he can hear his heart pounding in his ears. It feels as though all the air in the room has been sucked out, and the weight of the three originals and their gazes is enough to make him feel like he’s being dissected.

Klaus doesn’t move, his expression still unreadable. Elijah’s eyes narrow, just the slightest, and Kol’s smirk deepens into something far more predatory.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Klaus speaks, his voice smooth but with an edge. “You wish to take my daughter to a dance?”

Landon nods quickly, his voice steadying a little now that he’s finally said it aloud. “Yes, sir. I do. And I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

There’s a small shift in Klaus’s posture an almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. “Tell me, Mr. Kirby…” Klaus leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving Landon’s. “What makes you think I’d allow that?”

Landon swallows. This is the moment. He can’t falter now. He stands a little straighter, trying to project as much confidence as he can muster. “I.-“I care about Y/n a lot, sir. I know she’s… well, she’s amazing. And I want to make her happy. I’ll protect her with everything I’ve got.”

Elijah tilts his head, his voice as calm and calculating as ever. “And what does protecting her mean to you, Landon? You’re… human. That means you’re far more vulnerable than she is.”

Landon’s mouth goes dry. “I know I’m not as strong as you all, but I.-“ He stops himself, realizing how pathetic that sounds. “But I’ll never let anything happen to her. I swear.”

Kol chuckles softly, but there’s no warmth in it. “Protecting her with what, exactly? Your charming personality? Or the fact that you can’t even defend yourself from a single vampire?”

Landon shoots Kol a nervous glance but tries to keep his voice steady. “I may not be a vampire or a hybrid, but I’ll do whatever it takes. I’d never put her in harm’s way, and I’d rather… I’d rather die than let anyone hurt her.”

The room grows even quieter, and Landon feels like he’s barely breathing, waiting for Klaus’s verdict.

Finally, Klaus’s gaze softens, though just barely. He stands up straight, his eyes scanning Landon carefully. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. But bravery alone doesn’t keep someone safe.” He turns to Elijah and Kol, his tone colder now. “What do you two think?”

Elijah, ever the stoic one, seems to consider it for a moment. “He’s earnest, Klaus. And he does care for her. But he’s not the type to take things lightly, either. I think he’ll treat her well.”

Kol, on the other hand, leans back into his seat, an amused grin still playing on his lips. “Oh, I think it’ll be entertaining. The look on his face when you try to kill him, Klaus. Can’t say I’m not looking forward to it.”

Landon’s stomach lurches, and he tries to ignore the heat rising in his face.

Klaus doesn’t respond to Kol right away, instead pacing a bit before he turns back to Landon. He stares at him for a long, drawn-out moment, and Landon wonders if he’s about to get tossed out or worse.

Finally, Klaus lets out a breath and says, “Alright, Mr. Kirby. I’ll allow it.”

Landon’s heart skips a beat, relief flooding him in a wave. “Really?”

Klaus’s lips twitch slightly, but the smile never reaches his eyes. “However, know this: I’m allowing it because you’ve shown respect. But if you hurt my daughter in any way, you won’t find me so lenient. Are we clear?”

Landon nods vigorously, practically bouncing on his heels. “Yes! Yes, I promise. I won’t hurt her, I swear.”

“Good,” Klaus says, his tone cool but satisfied. He turns toward Kol and Elijah. “Well, then. It looks like the mortal has earned his spot at the dance.”

Kol chuckles. “Don’t get too comfortable, Landon. You’ve earned this one battle, but the war is far from over.”

Elijah smirks, but there’s no real malice in his words. “You’ve made a good impression, but I’d still keep an eye on your back, just in case.”

Landon nods quickly, the nerves still crawling under his skin but softened by the sense of victory that fills him. He made it through. He’s in.

As he starts to back toward the door, Klaus calls after him, his voice more relaxed than before. “And Landon?”

Landon freezes and turns back. “Yes, sir?”

Klaus gives him a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Make sure she enjoys the dance. It’s important to her. Don’t ruin it.”

Landon smiles, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “I won’t. I promise.”

As he steps out the door, he can’t help but exhale loudly, wiping his brow. He made it. And now all that’s left is to take you to the dance and make sure it’s a night you’ll never forget.

Landon practically bursts through the door of the Salvatores boarding school, a mix of relief and still-pounding nerves coursing through him. He’s made it out of the Mikaelson mansion in one piece, and somehow, Klaus actually agreed to let him take Y/n to the dance. But he knows he’s not quite off the hook yet there’s still the matter of telling his friends.

As soon as he enters the common room, MG looks up from the couch, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our favorite mortal. How’d it go? Did Klaus decide to rip you apart on the spot, or are you still intact?”

Landon lets out a deep sigh, collapsing onto a chair with a dramatic groan. “I’m alive. Barely.”

MG raises an eyebrow. “That good, huh?”

Landon looks over at him, then at the rest of his friends Kaleb, Rafael, and Jed all of whom are lounging around, waiting for the verdict.

“So?” Kaleb asks, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “Did you survive the wrath of the mighty Mikaelsons, or are you now a permanent resident of the family’s ‘invisible’ cemetery?”

Landon groans again, burying his face in his hands. “You don’t even know. It was like being interrogated by three centuries-old vampires and one of them being a hybrid with a literal temper. I thought they were going to feed me to the wolves.”

Jed chuckles. “Well, you’ve got that whole ‘vulnerable human’ thing going for you. No wonder Klaus was looking at you like you were the main course.”

Landon shoots him a glare but can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his face. “Yeah, it was that bad.”

Just then, MG stands up, his hands clasped in front of him as if he’s presenting a show. “Alright, Landon. Before you say anything else, tell us: what color of coffin do you want? Do you think you’ll fit in one of those black mahogany ones? Or are you more of a ‘funeral chic’ kind of guy, maybe a nice oak or cherry?”

Landon looks at MG, blinking in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”

MG shrugs, putting on his best “serious” face. “Well, now that you’ve gotten Klaus’s blessing somehow you should be thinking about your funeral arrangements. I’m just helping you plan ahead.”

Landon stares at him for a beat before bursting out laughing. “I am not thinking about that!”

“Oh, come on,” MG says, grinning from ear to ear. “Klaus is definitely going to want to make an example out of you. I’m just trying to save you the trouble of figuring out which of your organs are going to be missing by the end of this.”

Landon laughs, shaking his head. “You guys are insane. I’m just trying to make sure Y/n has a good time at the dance. You think Klaus cares if I’m wearing the wrong shoes?”

“Wrong shoes? He’d probably care if you wore the wrong type of heart,” Kaleb says, rolling his eyes. “Like, you know, if it was still beating when he sees you holding her hand. He might just tear it out for fun.”

Landon groans. “Can you guys be serious for one second? I almost died in there.”

“I am serious,” Kaleb says, giving him a smirk. “When your literal future father-in-law is Klaus Mikaelson, you can’t help but plan your funeral arrangements. I’m just trying to make sure you’re ready.”

Rafael chuckles. “Yeah, man, you should probably start looking at the more affordable coffins. You know, just in case Klaus doesn’t decide to go full ‘killing you slowly for fun’ mode and opts for something quick.”

“Or he could just send you off in a regular pine box,” Jed adds, not missing a beat. “If you’re lucky, it’ll have a nice lining. Not that it matters much when you’re dead, but it’s the thought that counts.”

Landon looks at them all, deadpan. “You guys are terrible friends.”

“We’re just trying to prepare you for what’s coming,” MG says, taking a seat and crossing his arms. “It’s not every day someone has to ask Klaus and his brothers for permission to take the princess to a school dance.”

Landon sighs, rubbing his face. “I really hope this is all worth it.”

“Oh, it’s totally worth it,” Kaleb assures him with a grin. “Just think of the story you’ll be able to tell at your own funeral.”

Landon shoots him a look, but then he breaks into a smile. “You guys are ridiculous. But seriously, I really need a drink after that.”

Jed stands up with a laugh. “I’ve got you covered, my man. But we’re definitely getting you some strong stuff. You’re gonna need it.”

As Landon watches his friends scatter to find drinks and snacks, he can’t help but feel a little better. Sure, he was basically interrogated by Klaus and his brothers, but now he has his friends to help him get through the aftermath. And maybe, just maybe, if he survives this dance, he’ll finally get a little peace. Or at least a little less joking about his imminent demise.

The dining room of the Mikaelson mansion was as grand and elegant as always, the chandelier casting a warm glow over the long table. You sat comfortably between your parents, your mother reaching over occasionally to brush a stray strand of hair from your face while your father poured you another glass of sparkling cider. Dinner was lively as usual, with your uncles and aunts bantering, laughing, and sometimes bickering about old stories and mischief they’d caused over the centuries.

You were happily digging into your plate when Kol, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly cleared his throat. His signature smirk spread across his face, the kind that always signaled trouble.

“So,” Kol began, his voice carrying that unmistakable tone of mischief. “By the way, my favorite niece, your lover boy almost got himself killed by your dear father and us your favorites uncles today well I am talking about me I’m your favorite uncle.”

The fork you were holding froze mid-air, your cheeks immediately turning red. “What?” you stammered, darting a look at your dad.

Klaus, who had been swirling his wine glass lazily, didn’t even flinch. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, little wolf,” he said nonchalantly. “The boy showed up unannounced, rambling nervously about some dance. I merely… tested his intentions.”

Kol let out a laugh. “Tested? Oh, Nik, don’t be modest. You stared at him like you were imagining all the ways you could rip him apart. I swear, the poor lad’s knees were shaking so hard I thought he’d collapse right there on the threshold.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Uncle Kol, please.”

“Oh, no, darling, you can’t hide now,” Kol teased, clearly enjoying himself. “Do you know what he said when he finally got up the courage to speak? He actually had the nerve to call Klaus ‘sir.’”

Rebekah snorted into her wine glass. “Oh, poor thing. No wonder he survived it t must’ve amused Nik to hear someone grovel for a change.”

“I wasn’t amused,” Klaus said, though the small twitch of his lips betrayed him. “I merely appreciated the respect. Though I admit, his fear was… entertaining.”

Elijah, ever the voice of calm, set his glass down and added, “He was quite brave, actually. Despite his nerves, he made his case rather eloquently.”

Kol scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Brave? The boy nearly fainted when Nik said, ‘What makes you think I’d allow that?” He burst out laughing, his laughter infectious enough that even Rebekah chuckled.

“uncle!” you hissed, your face burning. “You’re making it sound worse than it was!”

“Am I, though?” Kol quipped. “He practically had a foot in the grave already, Darling. Speaking of which, we should probably invest in some new coffins. Just in case.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

Hayley, sitting next to you, leaned over with a reassuring pat on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m sure he handled it fine. Your father might have been dramatic, but he’s still sitting here alive, isn’t he?”

“And to be fair,” Rebekah added, smirking, “if he’s willing to endure all of that just to take you to a dance, he must like you quite a lot.”

Klaus straightened in his chair at that. “Of course, he likes her. He’d be foolish not to. But let’s not forget, Rebekah, liking her isn’t enough.”

Kol gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. “Oh, listen to you, Nik. Already planning to be the overbearing father. It’s adorable, really.”

“Kol,” Elijah interjected, his tone exasperated but amused, “perhaps you could let Y/n enjoy her meal without embarrassing her further.”

Kol leaned back with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. For now. But only because I’m rather enjoying my dinner.”

You peeked out from behind your hands, glaring playfully at him. “I’m going to tell Landon about this, you know. See how he feels about you calling him out like that.”

Kol laughed, raising his wine glass in your direction. “Oh, do, darling. I’m sure he’ll love to relive the whole ordeal. Perhaps I’ll invite him over and recount every detail myself.”

Your mother rolled her eyes but smiled, pulling you into a side hug. “Ignore him, sweetheart. You know Kol just loves to stir the pot.”

Your father, however, leaned closer, his expression serious but tinged with humor. “Still, my little wolf, if that boy does anything to upset you, rest assured, your uncles and I will handle it.”

“Dad,” you groaned, laughing despite yourself.

The table erupted in laughter, and while you felt utterly mortified, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of your family’s love surrounding you. Even if they embarrassed you half to death, you knew they only did it because they cared.

The evening sun filtered through the tall windows of the Mikaelson mansion, casting a golden glow over the room. You were sitting in your father’s art studio, surrounded by canvases, brushes, and the familiar scent of paint. Klaus stood beside you, his own canvas perched on an easel, as he worked with deliberate strokes, his expression calm but focused.

You loved these moments with your father just the two of you, sharing something he loved so deeply. Painting had always been his escape, his way of expressing what words couldn’t, and you cherished that he let you be a part of it.

“Yours is coming along nicely,” Klaus said, glancing over at your canvas. His voice was soft, filled with pride.

You smiled, dipping your brush into the vibrant blue paint. “Thanks, Dad. I had a good teacher.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Flattery will get you everywhere, little wolf.”

For a while, the two of you painted in companionable silence, the only sounds being the soft swish of brushes against the canvas and the occasional chirping of birds outside. But then Klaus set down his brush and turned toward you, his blue eyes studying you thoughtfully.

“You know,” he began, his voice quieter now, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “That’s dangerous.”

He smirked but didn’t take the bait. Instead, he stepped closer, his tone growing more serious. “I know I’m… overprotective. Perhaps even to an extreme.”

You set your brush down, sensing the shift in his mood. “Dad—”

“No, let me finish,” he said gently, taking a seat on the stool beside you. “I know it frustrates you sometimes. The way I question every person who gets close to you, the way I hover, the way I make it clear that no one will ever be good enough for my little wolf.”

You bit your lip, unsure where he was going with this, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

“But I need you to understand,” he continued, his voice softening, “I only do it because I love you. You are my everything, Y/n. From the moment I first held you in my arms, you became the single most important thing in my life. You’re not just my daughter, you’re my heart, my hope and my reason for being.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“I’ve lived a long time,” Klaus said, his gaze distant for a moment as if recalling centuries of pain and loss. “I’ve lost so much too much. And the thought of losing you? It’s unbearable. Without you, little wolf, I can’t live. You’ve given me something I never thought I’d have: peace.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks now, and Klaus reached out, gently wiping them away with his thumb. “Oh, my sweet girl,” he murmured. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You shook your head, smiling through your tears. “I’m not upset. I just… I didn’t know you felt like that.”

“Of course, I do,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “I know I don’t always say it, but you mean the world to me. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means being a little… overbearing.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his hand as he cupped your cheek. “You’re more than a little overbearing, Dad. But I get it. And… I love you, too.”

A rare, genuine smile spread across his face, and he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly. “I love you more than words can say, little wolf. Always.”

For a while, you just stayed there in his embrace, feeling safe and loved. Eventually, Klaus pulled back and tapped your nose with a paint-covered finger, leaving a small blue smudge.

“Now,” he said, his tone lightening, “let’s see if my little artist can beat me in creating a masterpiece.”

You laughed, grabbing your brush. “Oh, it’s on, old man.”

As the two of you returned to your canvases, the earlier heaviness melted away, replaced by laughter and playful banter. And in that moment, you were reminded once again how much your father loved you. and how lucky you were to have him.

The Mikaelson mansion was buzzing with excitement as the day for the school dance approached. You were sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine absentmindedly, when Rebekah waltzed into the room with her usual flair, her eyes gleaming with purpose.

“Alright, my gorgeous niece,,” she announced, clapping her hands together. “It’s time we find you the perfect dress for the dance. Something that will make that boy of yours forget how terrified he is of your father.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Auntie Bex, can’t I just wear something I already have? I mean, it’s just a dance.”

Rebekah gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest as if you’d just insulted her entire existence. “Just a dance? Y/n, it’s your first school dance! You can’t just show up in something ordinary. You need to make a statement.”

Hayley walked in, carrying a mug of coffee, and smirked at the scene. “Don’t argue, Y/n. When your aunt gets this determined, it’s easier to just go along with it.”

You groaned but couldn’t suppress the small smile creeping onto your face. “Fine. But no over-the-top, frilly stuff, okay?”

“Deal,” Rebekah said with a wink. “Now, go get your shoes. We’re heading out.”

Not long after, you, your mom and your aunts piled into the car and made your way into the heart of the city. The shopping district was lively, the streets lined with boutiques, twinkling lights, and the faint sound of music drifting through the air.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Freya said, looping her arm through yours as you walked into the first boutique. “I don’t get to do this kind of thing often, so you better enjoy it.”

“I’ll try,” you teased, grinning at her.

Rebekah was already scanning the racks like a woman on a mission, pulling out dresses and holding them up for inspection. “This one’s too plain. This one’s too short. Oh, this one could work if we added a few accessories…”

Your mother leaned against a nearby wall, sipping her coffee and shaking her head. “She’s like a hurricane when it comes to shopping, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, watching as Rebekah flitted from one rack to another with lightning speed.

“Oh, come now,” Rebekah said, overhearing you. “You’ll thank me when Landon sees you in the perfect dress and forgets how to breathe.”

Freya laughed. “Or how to form a coherent sentence. That boy’s already skittish enough around Klaus.”

You rolled your eyes but felt a flush creep up your cheeks. “You guys are ridiculous.”

After what felt like hours of trying on dress after dress. some of which were vetoed immediately by Hayley for being “too revealing” and others dismissed by Rebekah for being “too boring” you finally stepped out of the fitting room in a dress that made everyone fall silent.

It was elegant yet simple, a perfect balance of your style and the timeless class your family was known for. The fabric shimmered subtly under the light, and the fit was flawless.

Rebekah clasped her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling. “That’s the one. Absolutely perfect.”

Hayley nodded, a proud smile on her face. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Freya stepped closer, adjusting the hem slightly and nodding in approval. “It’s stunning, Y/n. You’re going to steal the show.”

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, feeling a little shy under their adoring gazes. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Rebekah said firmly. “Landon won’t know what hit him.”

“And neither will anyone else,” Hayley added, her tone protective. “But if anyone even thinks about messing with you, they’ll have to deal with us first.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I think you guys are more excited about this dance than I am.”

Freya grinned. “Of course we are. You’re the baby of the family. We have to make sure everything is perfect for you.”

After finalizing the dress, you spent the rest of the afternoon hunting for shoes and accessories, with Rebekah insisting on the importance of “the complete look.” By the time you were done, you were exhausted but couldn’t help feeling excited as you imagined how the dance would unfold.

As you all piled back into the car, Rebekah turned to you with a sly smile. “Now, darling, let’s talk about hair and makeup. I have some ideas…”

“Rebekah,” Hayley said warningly, “don’t overwhelm her.”

You groaned dramatically, making everyone laugh, but deep down, you felt grateful. Shopping with your mom and aunts was chaotic, but it was filled with love, and you wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.

Landon paced nervously in the Salvatore School common room, his hands clutching a tie that he couldn’t figure out how to knot. His friends. MG, Kaleb, and Jed sat sprawled on the couches, watching him with varying degrees of amusement and pity.

“Alright, Landon,” Kaleb said, smirking as he leaned back, arms crossed. “You’re pacing so much, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor. Chill, man.”

“I can’t chill!” Landon exclaimed, throwing his tie onto the coffee table. “Do you guys realize what I’m about to do? I’m taking Y/n Mikaelson to the dance. The Y/n Mikaelson. That means her dad, her uncles, her entire original vampire family is going to be watching my every move.”

Jed grinned, leaning forward. “Don’t forget her aunt Rebekah. I heard she once ripped a guy’s heart out because he didn’t pull out her chair at dinner.”

“That’s not helping!” Landon groaned, flopping onto the couch.

MG picked up the tie and started fiddling with it. “Look, man, it’s gonna be fine. You already got through the worst part. asking Klaus for permission. The fact that you’re still alive is a good sign.”

“Yeah,” Kaleb chimed in, “but just barely. From what I hear, Klaus and Kol were probably one snarky comment away from turning Landon into a pile of ash.”

Landon shot him a glare. “Again, not helping.”

MG chuckled, holding up the tie. “Alright, real talk. what are you wearing to this thing? Please tell me you’re not gonna show up in that sad excuse for a blazer that you have.”

“I got a new suit,” Landon mumbled defensively.

Kaleb raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Let’s see it.”

Landon sighed, standing up and pulling a garment bag from the back of a chair. He unzipped it to reveal a sleek, dark suit with a subtle shine, complete with a perfectly pressed white shirt and a dark blue tie.

MG whistled. “Okay, okay. Look at you, Mr. Fancy. You clean up nice.”

Jed tilted his head, squinting at the suit. “Looks sharp. But, uh… you think it’s gonna stain?”

Landon blinked. “Stain? What are you talking about?”

“You know,” MG said, grinning wickedly. “When Klaus decides to rip out your heart because you step on Y/n’s foot or something. Blood can be hard to get out of fabric.”

Kaleb burst out laughing, clapping his hands together. “Man, he’s got a point! You should’ve gone with something darker red hides blood better. Rookie mistake.”

“Or just wear a poncho,” Jed added with a shrug. “Less cleanup that way.”

Landon groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Why did I even ask you guys for help? You’re making me feel worse.”

“Relax,” MG said, slinging an arm over Landon’s shoulder. “We’re just messing with you. You’ll be fine. Just don’t do anything stupid, like spill punch on her dress or forget to compliment her. Oh, and maybe avoid being alone with her family for too long.”

“Yeah,” Kaleb said, grinning. “Especially Kol. That guy’s crazy, and not the fun kind of crazy.”

“Not helping,” Landon muttered again, shaking his head.

MG handed him the tie. “Alright, let’s focus. Get this on, practice your lines in the mirror, and remember: confidence is key. If Klaus smells fear, you’re done for.”

“That’s comforting,” Landon said dryly, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

As they continued to tease him, Landon couldn’t help but think that, for all his nerves, having friends to lighten the mood might actually keep him from having a complete meltdown before the dance. Well, maybe.

The Salvatore School common room was lively as usual, with you, Lizzie, Josie, Landon, MG, Kaleb, and Jed lounging on the couches and chairs, throwing playful banter back and forth. Landon, as usual, looked like a bundle of nerves, sitting next to you and fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Lizzie, who always seemed to enjoy stirring the pot, glanced at Landon with a smirk. “So, Landon, have you decided what your last words are going to be? You know, just in case.”

Landon groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Why does everyone keep acting like I’m going to die?”

“Uh, because you might?” Kaleb said, grinning. “No offense, Y/n, but your dad has a reputation. And your uncles? They’re like a murder squad. If I were Landon, I’d be saying my goodbyes right about now.”

Josie tried to hold back a laugh but failed. “He’s not that bad, guys. Right, Y/n?”

You rolled your eyes, patting Landon’s shoulder. “They’re just messing with you. My dad’s bark is worse than his bite.”

“Uh, yeah, tell that to the thousands of people he’s actually bitten,” MG quipped, earning a round of laughter.

“Wow, thanks for the support,” Landon muttered, slouching further into the couch.

Suddenly, MG straightened up, his expression shifting to one of mock seriousness. “Guys,” he said dramatically, “we need to talk about something important. If Klaus actually kills Landon, we need to decide how we’re going to honor his memory.”

Kaleb nodded, stroking his chin like he was pondering something deeply profound. “True, true. A eulogy, maybe? Or a memorial tree in the courtyard?”

Jed, catching on to the joke, slapped his chest and sniffled loudly. “Guys, I can’t! I’ll cry too much!”

“Don’t cry for me!” Landon groaned, throwing a pillow at Jed.

But Jed dodged and dramatically wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “We’ll miss you, bro, but, uh… we can’t avenge you.”

“What?!” Landon exclaimed, sitting up straight.

MG shrugged, pretending to look apologetic. “Yeah, man. If we try to get revenge, your father-in-law will turn us into, like… garden mulch. So, sorry, but we’re not signing up for that.”

“Yeah,” Kaleb added, nodding solemnly. “We’ll say nice things at your funeral, though. Real heartfelt stuff.”

“Oh, totally,” Jed said, clutching his chest again. “Like, ‘Landon Kirby: the bravest dude to ever date a Mikaelson. May he rest in pieces.’”

“Pieces?” Landon squeaked.

“Well, it depends on how mad Klaus gets,” Kaleb said nonchalantly.

Even Lizzie couldn’t resist joining in. “Don’t worry, Landon. We’ll make sure the flowers at your grave match your suit. It’s the least we can do.”

“Guys, stop,” you said, trying to sound stern but unable to hide your laughter.

Landon, on the other hand, looked half-amused and half-horrified. “You’re all terrible friends.”

“Hey, at least we’re honest,” MG said, raising his hands. “I mean, c’mon, would you take on Klaus Mikaelson for me? Be real.”

Landon hesitated. “Uh… well…”

“Exactly,” Kaleb said, smirking.

You leaned over, grabbing Landon’s hand to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Landon. They’re just being idiots. My dad actually likes you.”

“Likes him?” Josie whispered to Lizzie with a grin. “Is that why he sharpened his favorite weapons the other day?”

You shot Josie a look, trying to suppress your laugh as Landon groaned again, sinking back into the couch.

“Okay, I’m doomed,” he muttered. “Does anyone know a good hiding place?”

“Not really,” Jed said, smirking. “But we do know a good funeral home.”

The room erupted into laughter, and despite Landon’s protests, even he couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

The Mikaelson family gathered in the grand living room of their mansion, the soft glow of the chandelier casting a warm light over the scene. Your father and uncles stood near the fireplace, each with a glass of bourbon in hand, while your aunts and mother were sprawled across the couches with their phones, scrolling through endless pictures of hairstyles. The faint sound of classical music played in the background, creating an oddly serene atmosphere considering the topic of conversation.

“I think this braid would look perfect on Y/n,” Rebekah said, holding up her phone to Hayley. “Elegant, yet timeless.”

Hayley tilted her head, studying the image. “It’s nice, but what about something with curls? Y/n has such beautiful hair; we should make it stand out more.”

Freya chuckled, shaking her head. “You two are overthinking this. Y/n would look stunning no matter what hairstyle she picks.”

Meanwhile, the brothers were deep in their own conversation. or, more accurately, Kol was stirring the pot as usual.

“So,” Kol began, swirling his bourbon with a mischievous glint in his eye, “dear brother, have you decided how you’re going to kill your future son-in-law? Or are you going to just let him die of fright when he sees you at the dance?”

Klaus shot him a glare but said nothing, sipping his drink instead.

Elijah, ever the diplomat, raised an eyebrow. “Kol, must you be so dramatic? Landon has already proven his intentions are honorable.”

Kol scoffed, smirking. “Honorable? The boy could barely string two words together when he came here begging for Y/n’s hand in. what was it, again? Oh, yes, a high school dance. Pathetic, really.”

Klaus’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “I’ll admit, it was… amusing. The stammering, the sweating… the way he almost bolted when I opened the door.”

“That’s because you looked at him like he was dinner,” Hayley chimed in, glancing up from her phone. “Poor kid probably thought he was going to be the next werewolf snack.”

“Well, he should be afraid,” Klaus said, his tone deceptively casual. “It keeps him in line. If he even thinks about putting one foot out of place…” He trailed off, letting the unspoken threat linger.

Kol burst out laughing, clapping Klaus on the shoulder. “Oh, Nik, you’re such a softie these days. Let me guess. you’ve already got the ‘disappointed father’ speech planned, don’t you? Or are you going straight for the ‘intimidating immortal hybrid’ act?”

Klaus rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Why would I waste my time with speeches when actions are far more effective?”

“Of course,” Kol said, grinning wider. “But do tell. are you thinking heart removal, or something more creative? Personally, I’d go for the old-fashioned ‘hang him upside down from a tree’ routine. Really sends a message.”

Elijah sighed, setting his glass down. “Kol, must you always turn everything into a spectacle? Landon has survived thus far. Perhaps we should give him some credit for his resilience.”

Rebekah, who had been quietly listening while scrolling through hairstyles, smirked and chimed in. “Oh, please. The boy’s only alive because Y/n begged Klaus not to kill him. Don’t act like he’s some great survivor.”

Hayley snorted, shaking her head. “You guys are unbelievable. Landon’s just a kid trying to impress Y/n. Cut him some slack.”

Freya chuckled. “To be fair, I think he deserves a little credit for standing up to Klaus. Most people wouldn’t even dare knock on this door.”

Kol raised his glass. “To Landon Kirby: the bravest idiot I’ve ever met. May he survive the dance without fainting. or worse.”

Klaus smirked, raising his glass in return. “We’ll see. But if he dares step out of line, I’ll be sure to remind him why he should fear me.”

Hayley rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”

Rebekah leaned over to show Freya a picture of an elaborate braided updo. “What do you think about this one? Too much?”

“Perfect,” Freya said. “Now, let’s just hope Y/n can survive her overprotective father and uncles long enough to enjoy her dance.”

As laughter filled the room, you walked in, looking around suspiciously. “What’s so funny?”

The room fell silent for a moment before Kol, ever the troublemaker, grinned and said, “Oh, nothing, darling niece. We were just discussing how many ways your father plans to terrify your boyfriend.”

You groaned. “Seriously? You guys are unbelievable.”

“Welcome to the family,” Freya said, smirking as she patted the seat next to her.

The Mikaelson mansion was quiet that evening, the usual chaos giving way to a more serene atmosphere as preparations for the big night unfolded. Your dress hung on a nearby mannequin, glimmering softly under the dim chandelier light. You sat in front of an ornate vanity, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness as your aunts worked their magic.

Rebekah stood beside you, a makeup brush in hand, her expression one of intense concentration. “Hold still, darling. If you keep fidgeting, I’ll end up giving you a clown face instead of a masterpiece.”

You giggled, trying to stay still as she lightly dusted your cheeks with blush. “I’m not fidgeting that much.”

“Not much?” Rebekah raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’re like a rabbit caught in headlights. What’s got you so jittery? Nervous about seeing Landon?”

Hayley, standing behind you, chuckled as she carefully pinned another curl into place. “Of course she’s nervous. This is her first big dance, and her first time going with a date. And not just any date. one who’s brave enough to face Klaus and her uncles.”

Freya, on the other side of you, nodded as she braided a section of your hair into an intricate pattern. “Honestly, I’m surprised Landon didn’t faint during his ‘talk’ with Klaus. I was half expecting Kol to scare him off entirely.”

Rebekah laughed, putting down her brush and reaching for a tube of lipstick. “Well, he survived round one. Let’s see how he holds up at the actual dance when Nik is glaring at him the whole night.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You guys are terrible. You’re supposed to be helping me relax, not making me more nervous.”

“Relax?” Rebekah teased, tilting your chin up gently so she could apply the lipstick. “Honey, this is your big night! Nerves are part of the excitement. Besides, you look absolutely stunning. Landon’s jaw is going to hit the floor when he sees you.”

Freya stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “Your hair is coming together beautifully. What do you think, Hayley?”

Hayley nodded, a soft smile on her face. “Perfect. Y/n, you look incredible. You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, taking in the soft waves and intricate braids Freya and Hayley had woven into your hair. Rebekah’s makeup was flawless, enhancing your features without overdoing it. For a moment, you didn’t even recognize yourself.

“Wow,” you murmured, a little overwhelmed. “I… I look.-“

“Like a princess,” Rebekah finished, stepping back to admire her work. “No, scratch that. you look like royalty. Fitting, considering your father treats you like his little queen.”

Freya chuckled, patting your shoulder. “You’re all set, Y/n. Now, let’s get you into that dress.”

Your mother helped you stand, careful not to mess up your hair, and Rebekah carefully unzipped the garment bag. The dress shimmered as she pulled it out, and you couldn’t help but gasp. It was perfect. elegant yet youthful, with just the right amount of sparkle.

As they helped you into the gown, Freya adjusted the hem while Hayley zipped up the back. Rebekah fluffed the skirt slightly, stepping back with a proud smile.

“There,” Rebekah said, crossing her arms. “You look like a dream.”

You turned to the mirror, your breath catching as you took in the full effect. The hair, the makeup, the dress. it all came together perfectly.

Your mother placed her hands on your shoulders, smiling warmly at you in the reflection. “Y/n, you’re going to have an amazing time tonight. Just be yourself, and don’t worry about anything.”

Freya nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Exactly. And if anyone gives you trouble, well, you have the most intimidating family in the world to back you up.”

Rebekah smirked. “And a whole lot of sass to throw at anyone who dares to step out of line. You’re a Mikaelson, after all.”

You laughed, feeling a surge of confidence as you looked at yourself again. “Thanks, mother and aunts. This really means a lot to me.”

Rebekah leaned down, kissing your cheek lightly. “Go have the time of your life, Honey. But remember. if Landon messes up, just say the word, and we’ll take care of him.”

“Rebekah!” Hayley scolded, laughing as you shook your head.

“Just kidding,” Rebekah said with a wink, though the mischievous glint in her eye said otherwise.

As you looked at your reflection one last time, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and love for your family, even with their quirks. Tonight was going to be unforgettable.

Landon stood nervously on the doorstep of the Mikaelson mansion, his palms sweaty despite the cool evening air. The house loomed over him like a medieval fortress, its grandeur only amplifying his nerves. With a deep breath, he adjusted his tie, muttering to himself.

“Okay, Landon. You survived the talk… You can do this. Just smile, be polite, and don’t faint.”

He raised his hand to knock, hesitated, and then finally forced himself to tap lightly on the massive door. The sound echoed ominously, and for a moment, he considered running. But before he could entertain that thought, the door creaked open.

And there he was, Klaus Mikaelson, standing in the doorway like a king surveying his kingdom. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Landon, his expression unreadable but undeniably intimidating. He was dressed sharply, though casually, as if to say he didn’t need to try to assert his dominance.

“Ah, Mr. Kirby,” Klaus said, his voice smooth but edged with a hint of amusement. “Right on time. my little wolf is still upstairs getting ready.”

Landon swallowed hard, his throat dry as he cleared it nervously. “Uh, no, sir. I mean, yes, but.-“ He paused, trying to steady himself. “I thought I’d, uh, wait for her here.”

Klaus smirked, stepping aside and motioning for him to enter. “Very well. Come in.”

As Landon stepped inside, the familiar grandeur of the Mikaelson home seemed even more overwhelming than usual. The chandeliers glittered above him, the air thick with history and power. But what really made his stomach drop was the sight waiting for him in the living room.

The entire Mikaelson clan was there, seated as if they had been waiting just for him. Elijah sat in his usual regal posture, a glass of bourbon in hand, his gaze cool and assessing. Kol lounged on the couch, twirling a silver dagger between his fingers, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. Freya leaned casually against the mantel, her arms crossed but her eyes twinkling with amusement. Hayley was there, her expression more neutral but still laced with curiosity.

Rebekah, perched elegantly on a nearby armchair, was the first to break the silence. “Well, well, if it isn’t the brave suitor.” She smirked, her eyes flicking over him. “I must say, Landon, you clean up nicely.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Landon managed, his voice slightly shaky.

Kol snorted. “Ma’am? Oh, please. Rebekah doesn’t look a day over 100.”

Rebekah shot him a glare but didn’t refute the comment.

Elijah set his glass down, his gaze steady on Landon. “It’s good to see you again, Landon. I trust you’re prepared for this evening?”

“Yes, sir,” Landon replied quickly, though the confidence in his voice wavered slightly.

Klaus shut the door behind him and moved to stand beside Elijah, his arms crossed. “Are you sure about that, boy? Because from where I’m standing, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

Landon let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m fine. Really. Just… a little nervous.”

Kol chuckled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “A little? You look like a lamb being led to slaughter. Should I fetch you a glass of water or a stretcher?”

“Kol,” Hayley said with a warning tone, though she was clearly holding back a smile.

Freya smiled sympathetically at Landon. “Don’t mind them. They’re just having fun at your expense.”

“Fun?” Kol smirked, twirling the dagger again. “Oh, come on, Freya. It’s tradition. No one dates a Mikaelson without a little… hazing.”

“Kol,” Klaus said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned his gaze back to Landon, his expression softening slightly. “Relax, boy. You’re here for Y/n, not us. Though,” he added with a smirk, “don’t think for a second we won’t be watching your every move tonight.”

Landon’s heart pounded, but he managed a small nod. “I understand, sir. I’ll, uh… I’ll do my best to make sure she has a great time.”

Rebekah chuckled, raising her glass in a mock toast. “Well, here’s to hoping you survive the night, Landon. And remember if you don’t, it’s nothing personal. Just Mikaelson tradition.”

Kol grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Yes, and you can always haunt us if it doesn’t work out.”

The room erupted in laughter, and while Landon tried to smile, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t entirely joking.

You took a deep breath, smoothing the delicate fabric of your dress as you prepared to descend the grand staircase of the Mikaelson mansion. The faint hum of conversation from the living room reached your ears, and you could only imagine what your family was saying to Landon in your absence. They loved to tease, after all.

The soft click of your heels against the polished wood announced your arrival before you came into view. As you stepped onto the staircase, every pair of eyes turned toward you, the room falling silent in an instant.

Klaus, standing near the fireplace with his usual air of authority, was the first to react. A proud smile spread across his face, his blue eyes softening. “There she is,” he murmured, his voice barely audible but brimming with affection.

Kol let out a low whistle, grinning mischievously. “Well, if this isn’t a sight. Little Y/n all grown up and stealing the show already.”

Freya and Hayley exchanged a knowing glance, their smiles warm and full of pride. Elijah simply nodded, his approval clear in the slight upward curve of his lips.

But none of their reactions compared to Landon’s.

As you reached the bottom of the staircase and stepped into the room, Landon’s jaw practically dropped. His eyes widened, and for a moment, it seemed like he forgot how to breathe. He stared at you, completely captivated, his gaze filled with pure adoration.

“You… you look…” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “Wow.”

A blush crept up your cheeks at his awestruck expression, and you offered him a shy smile. “Thank you, Landon. You look pretty great yourself.”

But before he could respond, he felt it. the unmistakable sensation of several pairs of eyes boring into him. Slowly, almost comically, he tore his gaze away from you and glanced around the room.

Sure enough, the siblings and even Hayley were all staring at him with varying degrees of intensity. Klaus’s expression was calm, but his sharp eyes held a warning. Elijah, ever composed, raised an eyebrow slightly, as if silently reminding Landon to behave. Kol, on the other hand, grinned like a cat who’d just cornered a mouse.

“Well, well,” Kol said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Lover boy here seems completely smitten. Can’t say I blame him.”

“Kol,” Hayley warned, though she couldn’t hide the small smirk tugging at her lips.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, stepping in to break the tension. “Oh, leave the poor boy alone. He’s just admiring his date right, Landon?”

Landon nodded quickly, his cheeks flushing. “Y-Yeah, just admiring.”

Klaus took a slow step forward, his presence commanding as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “You look beautiful, my little wolf,” he said softly, his voice filled with pride. Then, his gaze shifted back to Landon, his tone hardening just slightly. “Take good care of her tonight. Remember, she’s the jewel of this family.”

Landon gulped and nodded, his hands clenching nervously at his sides. “Of course, sir. I promise.”

Kol chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve got some guts, Kirby. Let’s hope you don’t lose them by the end of the night literally.”

You shot Kol a glare, playfully swatting at his arm. “Uncle Kol, stop scaring him!”

Freya laughed, taking a sip of her drink. “He’s just having fun, Y/n. Don’t worry Landon will be fine. Probably.”

Landon glanced at you, his nervous smile softening when his eyes met yours. Despite the teasing and the pressure, you could see the genuine affection in his gaze. It made your heart flutter, and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering you his arm.

You smiled, slipping your hand into his. “We shall.”

As the two of you headed toward the door, Klaus’s voice rang out once more. “Landon.”

Landon froze, turning back to face him. “Y-Yes, sir?”

Klaus’s smile was faint but unmistakably sharp. “Remember what we talked about.”

“Yes, sir,” Landon said quickly before practically bolting out the door with you by his side.

The moment you were out of earshot, the room erupted into laughter, Kol’s voice leading the charge. “Oh, that poor lad. He has no idea what he’s in for.”

As the door closed behind you and Landon, the Mikaelson family sat in silence for a moment, the faint sound of your laughter outside barely audible. Klaus stood by the fireplace, his gaze lingering on the door, his fingers drumming against the side of his glass. He didn’t say anything at first, but the subtle tightening of his jaw was enough to catch Kol’s attention.

“Oh, here we go,” Kol muttered, leaning back with an exaggerated grin. “I know that look, brother. Don’t tell me you’re already regretting letting her go.”

Klaus shot him a glare but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he swirled the bourbon in his glass, his mind clearly racing.

Rebekah smirked knowingly from her seat. “Kol’s right. You’re absolutely itching to follow them, aren’t you? I mean, come on, Nik. She’s fine. Landon might be a nervous wreck, but he’s harmless.”

“Harmless is hardly a guarantee,” Klaus replied, his voice sharp but controlled. “She’s my daughter. My little wolf. And she’s out there with a boy who looks like he might faint if he so much as brushes her hand. I won’t just sit here while she’s.-“

“Happy?” Hayley interrupted, raising an eyebrow as she leaned against the armrest of her chair. “Come on, Klaus. She’s earned this. Let her have her moment without you breathing down her neck.”

“Breathing down her neck?” Klaus repeated, feigning offense. “I am merely… keeping an eye on her. Protecting her. It’s my job.”

“It’s called parenting,” Elijah said calmly, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “And sometimes, Niklaus, parenting requires a certain degree of trust. Y/n is perfectly capable of handling herself.”

“But Landon isn’t,” Kol chimed in with a laugh. “You saw him! The poor boy could barely string two words together without looking like he was about to collapse. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he trips over his own feet before the night’s over.”

Freya smiled, shaking her head. “Nik, you have to let her go eventually. She’s growing up. Besides, she’s smart. You’ve raised her well. Trust her to make the right decisions.”

Klaus sighed, clearly unconvinced. He set his glass down on the mantel, his fingers drumming against the edge. After a moment of silence, he straightened, his expression determined.

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not just going to sit here. Let’s go after them and watch.”

The room erupted into a mix of groans and laughter.

“Seriously, Nik?” Rebekah said, exasperated. “You’re going to stalk your own daughter on her date? That’s a new low, even for you.”

Hayley folded her arms, shaking her head. “Klaus, no. She’ll know you’re there, and it’ll ruin everything. Let her have this.”

“Oh, come on,” Kol said, already on his feet. “I’m with Nik. This could be fun! Imagine the look on Landon’s face when he realizes we’ve been watching him the whole time.”

“Kol, sit down,” Elijah said sternly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. “We are not turning this into a spectacle.”

Klaus ignored them all, already moving toward the door. “I won’t interfere,” he insisted. “I just want to ensure everything is… going smoothly.”

“‘Smoothly’?” Rebekah repeated, rolling her eyes. “Nik, you’re not fooling anyone. You want to scare the poor boy out of his wits.”

“Can you blame me?” Klaus said, turning to face them. “She’s my daughter. My only daughter. And she deserves the best. If he puts one foot out of line.-“

“Niklaus,” Elijah interrupted, his tone carrying the weight of authority. “Enough. Sit. Down.”

For a moment, Klaus hesitated, his jaw tightening as he considered his options. Finally, he sighed and returned to his spot by the fireplace, though he was clearly restless.

Kol snickered, flopping back onto the couch. “Fine, stay here and brood. But don’t come crying to me when Landon puts his hand on her waist during a slow dance.”

The growl that escaped Klaus was enough to send Kol into a fit of laughter, Rebekah shaking her head as she took another sip of her wine.

“Poor Landon,” Freya said with a chuckle. “He has no idea how close he came to being tailed by the entire Mikaelson family.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Kol added with a wink.

Klaus paced the grand hall of the Mikaelson mansion for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. His siblings and Hayley had resumed their conversations, casting amused glances in his direction as he restlessly drummed his fingers against the mantel or adjusted his cufflinks for no apparent reason.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of internal debate, Klaus came to a decision.

“I can’t do this,” he declared suddenly, grabbing his coat.

Everyone stopped, turning to him with varying degrees of exasperation and amusement.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Rebekah groaned, throwing her hands in the air. “Nik, what are you doing now?”

“I’m going to the dance,” Klaus said matter-of-factly, slipping into his coat.

Kol burst out laughing, nearly spilling his drink. “Of course you are! Can’t let the lad have a single moment of peace, can you?”

Hayley rolled her eyes, standing up. “Klaus, she’s fine. You’re going to embarrass her.”

“Embarrass her?” Klaus repeated, his voice full of mock indignation. “Nonsense. I’ll be discreet.”

Elijah arched an eyebrow, setting his glass down. “You? Discreet? Niklaus, that may be the most absurd thing you’ve ever said.”

But Klaus was already heading for the door. “She’s my daughter. I’ll be discreet enough. I just want to see her happy. Surely you all can understand that.”

Hayley exchanged a glance with Freya, both women sighing but ultimately letting him go.

“Just try not to terrify the poor boy too much,” Freya called after him.

When Klaus arrived at the dance, he stayed back in the shadows, blending into the edges of the crowd. His sharp eyes scanned the room until they landed on you.

There you were, standing with Landon in the middle of the dance floor, laughing as you spun around, the skirt of your dress twirling with you. Your face was glowing with joy, your smile brighter than he’d ever seen it. Landon was watching you like you were the only person in the room, his awkwardness melting away as he held your hand and moved along with you.

Klaus felt his heart swell with pride and love. This was the moment he’d been dreading and anticipating in equal measure. the moment when his little wolf began to spread her wings. He stayed rooted to his spot for a while, simply watching you enjoy yourself.

A soft smile crept across his face, the kind of smile that was rare for Klaus Mikaelson for his overprotectiveness, this was what he wanted. for you to be happy, safe, and cherished.

Eventually, you caught sight of him. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you giggled softly, excusing yourself from Landon. You walked over to where he was standing, raising an eyebrow.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” you asked, though your tone was more amused than annoyed.

Klaus shrugged, his smile never faltering. “I simply wanted to see my little wolf in her element. And I must say, you’ve outshone everyone here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest at his words. “You’re not here to scare Landon again, are you?”

Klaus chuckled, shaking his head. “Not this time, love. Tonight, it’s all about you. And I must admit, seeing you so happy… it’s worth every moment of discomfort I’ve felt letting you go tonight.”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Dad. It means a lot that you’re here.”

Klaus placed a gentle hand on your cheek, his expression soft. “You’ll always be my little girl, Y/n. No matter how old you get, no matter who comes into your life, you’ll always have my heart.”

“Always and forever?” you asked with a teasing grin.

“Always and forever,my little wolf” he promised.

With that, he stepped back, letting you return to the dance floor. But this time, he didn’t feel the need to hover. Instead, he leaned against the wall, watching you laugh and dance with your friends, content in the knowledge that his little wolf was happy.

[thedensworld]

Kiss a Friend | K. Mg

Genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Summary: Mingyu was obsessed with his ex fiancee who had left him on the altar. To get her back, he paid all your debt to help him.

It started with a kiss.

Mingyu had warned you to arrive at 7, sharp. Punctuality, he said, was non-negotiable. He despised people who couldn’t respect time. But tonight, you wanted him to hate you, to see the look of irritation flash across his usually composed face. So, you walked in at 7:50, deliberately late, wearing the plainest dress you could find in your closet. It was all part of your plan to embarrass Kim Mingyu, a small act of rebellion against the man who now held a claim over your life for the next three months.

You sighed, an inexplicable tightness in your chest. Mingyu was more than just the imposing businessman he had become; he was your childhood nemesis. To be fair, your parents had been friends long before you were born, so you and Mingyu were forced into each other’s lives. You spent your childhood squabbling over the smallest things—who was faster on their bikes or who could get highest score in Math. It was always a competition, and Mingyu always found a way to win, leaving you rolling your eyes and muttering curses under your breath. Then, he left for the States to study business and fulfill his destiny of taking over the family empire. The distance was a relief, a clean break from the constant rivalry.

Meanwhile, you had chosen a different path. You found joy in acting, even if it meant playing minor roles or being in small films. You cherished the freedom it gave you, the knowledge that you weren’t bound by family legacies or the weight of expectations. Your life was yours, simple and light—or at least it was until last month.

Mingyu returned from the States a changed man, celebrated and respected in the business world. He no longer resembled the carefree boy from the neighborhood, and communication between you dwindled to polite nods and rare encounters. Then, the invitation came: a wedding announcement for him and his fiancée of two years. You’d laughed to yourself, amused by the thought that Mingyu, the annoying kid who used to trip you on purpose, had grown up enough to commit to someone. The thought of him managing to woo a woman seemed almost comical.

But everything shattered on the day he was left standing at the altar.

The chaos that followed was unforgettable. You ran to his parents, finding his father pale and clutching his chest, too stunned to speak. The paramedics arrived moments later, rushing him to the hospital. You stayed behind, holding his mother’s trembling hand and feeling the weight of Mingyu’s world as it crumbled around him. Hyorin—his fiancée, now ex-fiancée, ex-bride; you struggled to decide what to call her—left only a short letter behind. In it, she confessed that she’d run away with another man, admitting she’d been unfaithful and choosing to leave Mingyu for good.

Days later, Mingyu appeared at your door. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and his usual confident posture was nowhere to be seen.

“Help me,” he said, voice low and raw.

You blinked, unable to piece together what he meant. “Help you with what?”

“Help me get Hyorin back,” he clarified, leaning against the doorframe as if the effort of standing was too much. “I need you to be my girlfriend—just for three months.”

Your mouth dropped open. The idea was absurd. “Are you serious?”

“Hyorin is possessive. She won’t be able to stand seeing someone else with me. I know her. If she thinks I’ve moved on, she’ll come back,” he explained, desperation creeping into his tone. His eyes held yours, unyielding. “And besides, she hates you. That’ll add fuel to the fire.”

He sat comfortably on your couch, surveying your small apartment with an expression that was almost amused. It was a stark contrast to the sleek penthouse or sprawling home he had planned to share with Hyorin. You sat on the floor across from him, disbelief clouding your expression as you struggled to take his proposal seriously. Date Mingyu? It was laughable. He was too entangled in your childhood memories to ever be considered a romantic prospect, even if he had changed into a confident, sought-after businessman. Every time you looked at him, you couldn’t help but picture the mischievous boy with a grin that spelled trouble.

Yet, Mingyu was relentless. The proposal kept coming, woven into daily conversations and backed by small gestures. He pampered you in ways you didn't expect, bringing you coffee, making sure you were eating, all because he couldn’t find anyone better for this crazy plan of his.

“And besides, you’re a great actress,” he said one evening, leaning back into the cushions with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes, recognizing the manipulative edge in his tone. “I know,” you muttered, barely containing your frustration.

Before the conversation could spiral further, the sharp ring of your doorbell echoed through the apartment, followed by a series of frantic knocks. Alarm bells went off in your mind. No. Not now.

“Hide,” you whispered urgently, pulling Mingyu up by the arm and shoving him into your room before he could protest. If the person at the door saw Mingyu, it would be a disaster you weren’t prepared to deal with.

“Open up, Y/N! I know you’re there!” a familiar voice shouted from the other side, slurring slightly. Your heart sank as you recognized it. The door barely clicked open before it was pushed with force, slamming you back a step as Boemjae stumbled into the room. The stale scent of alcohol and cigarettes clung to him, making you wrinkle your nose.

“Not today, Boemjae,” you said firmly, hoping to sound braver than you felt.

He laughed, a low, menacing sound as he stepped closer and pressed you against the wall. “Who are you to tell me what to do, bitch?” His voice was a venomous whisper, and the sharp pain of your back hitting the wall made you wince. He swaggered toward the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle, taking a swig as if he owned the place.

“Leave,” you tried again, your voice strained but steady.

Boemjae’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “No. I need my money now,” he snarled, his tone shifting from casual menace to a sharp demand.

“I don’t have it now, but I’ll send it later,” you promised, your voice barely above a whisper. Before you could brace yourself, Boemjae shoved you with enough force that you stumbled and crashed into the coffee table, pain searing through your side.

“I need it now,” he repeated, bending down to yank you up by the collar as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll. His laugh was harsh and mocking. “How are you even planning to pay me back, huh? Sleeping with random men? You can’t even land a decent acting role!”

Before you could respond, Mingyu’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. “Let her go.”

The room fell into a tense silence as Boemjae turned, surprise flickering in his bloodshot eyes before he barked out a laugh. “So, this is the man you’re sleeping with? How much is he giving you? You’d better hand it over right now,” he sneered before shoving you roughly to Mingyu’s side. Relief washed over you as Mingyu caught you, holding you steady with a firm arm around your waist. The old Mingyu would have never stepped in, but this Mingyu—this confident, determined man—was different.

Mingyu’s expression hardened as he stepped forward, towering over Boemjae, his height and presence imposing. “I’m her boyfriend,” he said, voice cold and commanding. “And I want you out of this house. Now.”

Boemjae’s laugh faltered, turning uneasy as he took in Mingyu’s stance. “Boyfriend? Don’t kid yourself. I know her, and she doesn’t have a boyfriend. I’m her important person,” he said with a sneer.

Mingyu’s jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you were truly important, you’d know who I am,” he said, taking another step closer until Boemjae flinched. “Leave now, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Boemjae swallowed, the drunken bravado evaporating under Mingyu’s glare. He backed away, muttering curses under his breath before stumbling out the door.

The silence that followed was thick, your shallow breaths the only sound in the room. Mingyu’s eyes bore into you, sharp and intense, the anger still radiating off him in waves.

“Who was that? Why do you even know someone like him? Is he your boyfriend?” he fired off questions, his voice clipped and filled with barely contained rage.

“It’s none of your business,” you mumbled, wincing as you gripped your arm where it throbbed with pain.

Mingyu’s brows knitted together in a fierce scowl. “It is my business if you’re going to be my new girlfriend,” he declared, the conviction in his voice making your head spin. When had you ever agreed to this? Why was he speaking like you’d already signed some invisible contract?

“I never said yes,” you muttered, exhaling shakily as the adrenaline in your system began to ebb.

Mingyu’s eyes softened just a fraction, but his determination remained. “Who is he? Why does he come here?”

“I owe him money,” you admitted, your voice a strained whisper. “He shows up whenever he needs cash.”

A tense silence followed as Mingyu processed your words. “How much?” he asked, his tone commanding.

You bit your lip, irritation bubbling up at his demanding attitude. “It’s none of your business!”

“How much?” he pressed, leaning in, eyes searching yours for an answer.

You hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thirty-five billion,” you finally said, the weight of the number hanging heavily in the air.

Mingyu’s expression flickered with surprise before settling into one of resolute determination. The silence stretched between you, almost suffocating, before he spoke again, his voice calm but firm. “I’ll pay it,” he said, the finality in his tone leaving no room for argument. “But only if you agree to be my contract girlfriend for three months. That’s all the time I need to get Hyorin back.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, the enormity of his proposal pressing down on you. This was more than just a game to him; it was a desperate gamble. And now, it was your move.

*

The last day of owning your own life felt strange, surreal even.

You sat uncomfortably in Mingyu’s office, surrounded by the scent of polished wood and subtle cologne, a stark contrast to the chaotic familiarity of your world. The sterile office setting, with its pristine glass walls and neat rows of desks, was foreign to you. You were never an office girl. You were the adventurous one, the free spirit. So when Mingyu called you in to meet his lawyer and sign the contract, you weren’t prepared. Not mentally and definitely not in the way you were dressed—in just a plain shirt and worn blue jeans. If you had known the gravity of this moment, maybe you would have chosen something more formal, something that wouldn’t make you look so out of place among the sleek suits and pencil skirts.

Mingyu, now a commanding presence as the director of his father’s company, sat across the long mahogany table. He was the picture of cool composure, suited up impeccably, his gaze sharp but carrying an odd familiarity. The lawyer spoke up, cutting through the hum of your racing thoughts.

“As you can see, Mr. Kim will give you the agreed-upon sum tomorrow, and the contract will last for three months. If you have any questions, now would be the time to ask,” the lawyer said, his voice professional but devoid of emotion.

You glanced down at the document in front of you, your fingers brushing the paper lightly as you read. Years in the entertainment industry had taught you the importance of dissecting every line in a contract, ensuring that nothing would come back to bite you.

Halfway down, your eyes widened at a clause. “I have to move in with you?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, disbelief clear in your voice.

Mingyu cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair, his expression stoic. “Yes. It’ll create the right image. The media will go wild if they find out a woman moved in with me just a month after being left at the altar. Hyorin will hear about it. She’ll be furious, maybe even desperate enough to come back.”

You frowned, your thoughts racing. “And if I don’t want to?”

A chuckle escaped Mingyu, a sound that brought a flicker of childhood memories—those endless debates, the playful bickering that now seemed like a different lifetime. “Then we’ll negotiate. But I can promise that all your needs will be met. Besides,” he paused, his eyes narrowing just a touch, “Beomjae wouldn’t be able to harass you at my place.”

The mention of Beomjae sent a chill down your spine, your discomfort deepening. You didn’t like how easily Mingyu had brought up that night in front of his lawyer. It was a memory you’d hoped to lock away and never revisit. Still, the thought of escaping Beomjae’s shadow was tempting, more than tempting.

“And just so we’re clear,” Mingyu continued, his voice dropping to a serious note, “you’re not sleeping in my bed. The house has more than enough rooms.” He said it matter-of-factly, but the unexpected implication made your cheeks burn. You felt a wave of embarrassment rush through you as if the contract itself was some guilty secret.

The lawyer pointed to another clause. Intercourse was strictly prohibited; anything more intimate than staged public displays of affection would void the agreement and terminate the contract immediately. You breathed out slowly, relief mixing with an odd nervousness. The contract laid out your new reality in stark, unyielding terms, yet there was no malice hidden in its words. Mingyu might have been many things, but he wasn’t deceitful. He wouldn’t trap you with fine print. And the money? The staggering sum of thirty-five billion won seemed almost absurd, a price you weren’t sure you deserved for playing pretend for three months.

Mingyu’s gaze softened as he spoke, almost as if he could read your mind. “This role is harder than you think, Y/N. It won’t be easy.”

You glanced up at him, a blend of challenge and resignation in your eyes, before signing your name. The final stroke of the pen echoed in your ears like a tolling bell. Tomorrow, everything would change. You weren’t just Mingyu’s childhood friend anymore.

You were now his girlfriend. His thirty-five-billion-won girlfriend.

*

As you stepped into the birthday party hosted by Mingyu’s uncle, Kim Jaejoong, a wave of self-consciousness swept over you. The dazzling lights reflected off shimmering gowns and sharp suits, making you feel more out of place than ever. You were dressed simply, far too simply for such an event, and each glance cast your way seemed to gnaw at your self-esteem. You gave your name at the entrance, "Kim Mingyu's plus one," and the attendant nodded, letting you through with barely a glance.

The room was filled with South Korea’s most influential figures, a crowd where power was worn as naturally as their tailored suits. You scanned the room, trying to find Mingyu's familiar silhouette among a sea of business elites. But everyone here looked alike in their uniform of suit and tie, making it more challenging than you'd expected.

Then you spotted her. Wi Hyorin.

Hyorin, the heiress of Wi Finance, one of South Korea's most prestigious financial empires. The very woman who had left Mingyu standing alone at the altar, igniting a wildfire of gossip across the business world. The alliance that their marriage would have cemented had turned into a scandal overnight, the fallout reverberating through boardrooms and society pages. But why was she here, now, at Jaejoong's event? Was she trying to rekindle something? Your chest tightened as you watched her glide gracefully across the room.

Your eyes found Mingyu. He stood tall, commanding attention in a circle of businessmen, his smile practiced and confident. But as Hyorin moved toward him, you noticed a shift in his demeanor—a flicker of recognition and tension. The past month of living with Mingyu as his so-called “gold digger” girlfriend had been surreal. Tabloid stories had painted you as an unknown actress who somehow caught the eye of the jilted billionaire. Kim Mingyu’s New Flame: The Mysterious Actress After the Altar Scandal. The stories practically wrote themselves, and you, once a spectator to such dramas, were now the unwitting star.

You took a deep breath, a rush of impulse taking hold. If Mingyu’s plan was to make Hyorin jealous to win her back, then a bold move was justified, right? No harm done if it served the goal.

You walked steadily toward him, the room seeming to shrink as your heartbeat drummed in your ears. Mingyu noticed you, his eyes lighting up with a practiced warmth as he lifted a hand to wave, playing the devoted boyfriend role perfectly.

“Meet my girlfriend, Ji Y/N. She’s an actress—”

Before he could finish, you acted. Your hand reached up, pulling him toward you as your lips met his in a sudden, daring kiss. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, the clink of champagne glasses pausing midair. You felt Mingyu’s initial shock; his body stiffened, and he pulled back, eyes wide with surprise.

The room was a frozen tableau for a heartbeat, but it was Hyorin’s voice that shattered the silence. “So, you’re dating your childhood friend now, Mingyu?” Her tone was soft, almost melodious, but it carried an edge that cut through you like a blade. The implication in her words stung more than you expected. How dare she, after abandoning him?

But before you could react, Mingyu stepped away from you, turning to Hyorin with an almost desperate urgency. His hand reached for hers, a gesture that made your stomach drop. “I didn’t kiss her back, Hyorin,” he said, his voice clear enough for anyone nearby to hear.

The world seemed to tilt, his words echoing in your mind. Your heart plummeted as the realization settled in: Kim Mingyu, the man you once called your friend—no, the man you were now pretending to be in love with—was still devoted to the woman who had humiliated him in front of the entire country. And he had just proven it, publicly.

The plan was to make Hyorin jealous enough to return to him. It was working. You’d done what you set out to do, so why did your chest ache like this? You told yourself it didn’t matter. You had no right to feel this way. This was a job, a role to play, nothing more.

You stepped back, your face a mask of practiced calm as you retreated to the quieter corner of the venue. The din of conversation swallowed the silence you left behind. You reached for a glass of wine, the cool liquid promising a momentary reprieve from the chaos in your mind.

“So, you’re Ji Y/N, the one everyone’s been talking about?” A voice interrupted the solitude you had wrapped yourself in. You turned to see an unfamiliar face—a man you had never met before. He was striking, with sharp features and an air of effortless confidence. He introduced himself as Yoon Jeonghan, a college friend of Mingyu’s. The name registered immediately; he was the CEO of Yoonique, a luxury fashion brand that had been making waves locally and internationally.

“If you’re his girlfriend, I should’ve met you by now, especially with all the news swirling around. But here we are, meeting for the first time,” Jeonghan said, his tone light but with an undercurrent that suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

You felt your heart tighten. This conversation was more layered than you were prepared for, and the probing curiosity in his eyes made you reach for your wine again. “I’m not in a position to answer that,” you muttered, the rim of the glass brushing your lips.

Jeonghan chuckled, a low sound that somehow put you at ease and on edge at the same time. He leaned against the railing beside you, his eyes shifting to the city lights that stretched beyond the venue’s grand windows. “Mingyu’s a fool sometimes. I can see that now more than ever. I’m sorry you got caught up in this mess,” he said, his voice softening, making you turn to look at him.

“He told me about his plan—to win Hyorin back. I never thought it was a good idea, but I see now that you’re his partner in this... charade?” He paused, waiting for a response that you didn’t have. Your silence was answer enough.

You sighed, the weight of the night pressing down on you. “I’ve known him since we were kids. This is the least I can do, especially for his parents. They’ve been under so much pressure since the wedding incident,” you whispered, careful not to let anyone overhear your conversation.

Jeonghan’s expression shifted, a blend of understanding and something else you couldn’t quite read. He nodded slowly, acknowledging the burden you both seemed to carry. The quiet between you was a welcome reprieve from the noise inside, where murmurs and sidelong glances threatened to pull you apart.

You sipped your wine again, eyes drifting over the dark, sprawling skyline. Out here, you didn’t have to hear the whispered gossip or feel the eyes boring into your back.

“Mingyu ditched his girlfriend for his ex-fiancée?”

The thought sent a shiver down your spine, not because it wasn’t true, but because you knew people were cruel enough to say it aloud. Even if you were okay with being in this position, it was still humiliating to be part of such a spectacle.

Jeonghan’s voice brought you back. “Are you free tomorrow? Would you be willing to meet me at my office?” He asked, his eyes catching yours in the window’s reflection, the city lights dancing in them like embers.

You turned to face him, a flicker of curiosity sparking in your chest. What could he possibly want from you? Whatever it was, the idea of visiting Yoonique’s CEO office sounded intriguing, an unexpected twist in an already complicated story.

“Sure,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. You weren’t sure where this was heading, but for the first time that night, you felt a sliver of excitement cut through the haze of doubt.

*

"You ran away," Mingyu said as he stepped into your room, his voice low and sharp. The door clicked shut behind him, and you glanced up to see him in a half-dressed state—his suit discarded, an expensive dress shirt clinging to his broad frame, and a loosened blue tie draped around his neck. The sight was disheveled, raw, and too close for comfort.

You sat on the edge of the bed, the script for your newest and most promising role—a second lead that could finally catapult your acting career—resting in your hands. Your eyes met his, refusing to show the tumult of emotions twisting in your chest.

“You didn’t knock,” you said, trying to maintain an even tone. It was a feeble attempt to set a boundary, one you knew he would ignore.

Mingyu’s eyes darkened as he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming the room. “As far as I remember, this is my house. And this room is technically mine.”

A retort sat on the tip of your tongue, bastard, but you swallowed it down. The weight of the day hung over you like a shroud, and rest was all you craved. You placed the script on the nightstand and sat up straighter, facing him.

“Yeah, I know. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m living in your place. So, technically, this is still your room. Want to sleep here tonight?” You threw out the jest, trying to shift the tension, but it landed wrong.

Mingyu’s jaw tightened, and he took another step forward, eyes blazing. “You kissed me and now you’re asking if I want to sleep with you? Is that how cheap you are, Y/N?” His voice was harsh, each word slicing through the space between you.

The accusation stung. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. “You think I kissed you for that?” Your tone cracked, disbelief laced with hurt.

“You kissed me in front of everyone and caused a scandal! You really thought that would help my plan?” His voice rose, frustration spilling over like an overflowing dam.

You met his glare, eyes narrowed. “The plan was to make Hyorin jealous, to make her want you back. Didn’t it work?” Your voice was low, trembling with controlled rage.

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, exasperation etched across his face. “Making her jealous and actually getting her back are two different things, Y/N! Your impulsive stunt just pushed her further away. It showed her that I’m willing to move on. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Your chest ached as you watched him unravel. “And whose fault is that?” you shot back. “You practically shouted to the world that you didn’t kiss me back. Right in front of her, in front of everyone. That’s how stupid you are, Kim Mingyu!”

For a moment, silence fell, crackling with unresolved tension. Mingyu’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he hadn’t expected you to fight back. His anger morphed into something deeper, something unreadable.

Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet so swiftly that the room spun. You gasped as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

“So I’m stupid because I didn’t kiss you back?” he whispered, the proximity making your pulse race. Before you could respond, his fingers found the nape of your neck, and he closed the distance between you. His lips crashed into yours with an urgency that stunned you.

Your mind screamed at you to resist, but the battle was fleeting. He was too strong, or maybe, you were too willing. Maybe it was because deep down, this was what you had wished for when you kissed him earlier—this reckless, unrestrained moment. Your hands found their way to his chest, and you felt yourself giving in, kissing him back with the same intensity.

The kiss became a desperate clash, more a battle than an embrace. Mingyu's hands gripped your waist with an intensity that left you breathless, fingers digging into your skin as if trying to mark you, claim you. You gasped when he pulled back, his eyes dark with something raw and unapologetic, searching your face for any hesitation.

The only answer you gave was a tug at his shirt, buttons flying in reckless abandon as you exposed the heat of his chest. He smirked, a hint of danger playing at the corner of his lips, before he pushed you back onto the mattress, following you down with a deliberate slowness that made your heart race. His body pressed into yours, all hard planes and coiled tension, a silent reminder of the power he wielded.

“Mingyu,” you breathed, the sound half plea, half challenge. He caught the way your voice faltered, and his smirk widened, leaning down to brush his mouth just below your jaw, trailing fire wherever he touched. Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, the sound vibrating against your skin and igniting a reckless thrill.

He hovered over you, his eyes boring into yours, the heat between you searing. “Tell me to stop.” he rasped, a taunt that made your pulse quicken. Before you could answer, his lips claimed yours again, hard and consuming, leaving no room for second thoughts.

Clothes slipped away in a flurry of heated motions, the cool air biting at your exposed skin for only a moment before he was there, pressing into you, suffocating and electrifying all at once. The room was filled with sharp breaths and quiet gasps as he explored, each touch setting off a chain reaction you couldn’t control.

Every move was a silent challenge, a push and pull of dominance and surrender. His teeth grazed your collarbone, earning a shiver that he answered with a dark chuckle, fingers tracing paths that left you arching into him. Your nails raked down his back, pulling a hiss from him that made something dark and thrilling coil in your chest.

The space between you became suffocating, bodies moving together in a rhythm that left no room for tenderness, only hunger. Every gasp, every whispered name, was laced with defiance and something deeper, something both of you refused to name.

"The contract..." you muttered, the reality of the situation cutting through the haze that still clung to your mind. The gravity of what just happened settled between you like an uninvited guest.

Mingyu's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He scoffed, the sound low and bitter. "Fuck, my lawyer doesn’t need to know about this," he said, half to himself and half to you, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

*

"So, did you sleep together?"

Jeonghan’s sharp question made you choke on the sip of tea his secretary had brought in moments earlier. You managed not to spill any as you placed the delicate cup back on the table, eyes locking with Jeonghan's. He was grinning, eyes sharp and teasing as they assessed your reaction.

"No..." he continued before you could answer, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I mean, I heard you moved in." He restated, though the pointed look in his eyes suggested he already suspected the truth.

"It was a business contract, Jeonghan," you responded evenly, though the words felt flimsy in the air. Jeonghan, who insisted you call him by his first name as though he wanted no reminder of his father’s legacy, hummed, tilting his head as if inviting you to elaborate.

"A three-month contract to get Hyorin back," you said, your voice steadying. "You probably already know this, but he wanted me to play the role of his fake girlfriend." At the end of your words, Jeonghan let out a dry chuckle, the sound mirthless.

"I can't believe he's that childish," he muttered. His gaze shifted, scrutinizing your face as if trying to read between the lines. "And what did you get out of this little arrangement?" he pressed.

You hesitated before muttering, "He paid my debt... 35 billion won."

Jeonghan’s eyes widened briefly before he masked his surprise. "That's a lot of money for three months," he said, watching you nod in agreement. "That’s life-changing."

"I plan to give it back when the contract ends," you admitted, almost shyly.

Jeonghan's brow lifted in disbelief, as though you’d just declared you were planning to burn the money. "Don't give it back. Keep it," he said, leaning forward with sudden intensity. "At least take that much from him after everything."

You let out a small, hollow laugh. "I helped him because he's my friend," you said, your voice tinged with a bitter edge. "And, as I told you yesterday... for his parents. I’ll work hard and pay my own debts."

Jeonghan went quiet, his eyes narrowed in contemplation, taking in every word as if filing them away.

"May I know what kind of situation landed you with that much debt?" he finally asked.

You bit your lip, the weight of the past pressing down like a heavy cloak. It was complicated, a story rooted in tragedy. "It wasn’t originally my debt; it was my father’s," you began, your voice tight. "He owned a production house and partnered with a young director, Lee Beomjae. The project was ambitious, with a promise of 100 billion won. Beomjae even invested his own money, but then... everything collapsed. The company went bankrupt when my father died in a car accident, and my mother... she couldn’t bear it and took her own life. The business fell apart, and no one wanted to pick up the pieces. That left me with 35 billion won I couldn't escape."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. You took another sip of tea, anything to break the tension that stretched between you and Jeonghan.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes studying you with newfound understanding. "Here’s what I think, Y/n," he said, voice soft but unwavering. "Mingyu wanted you to be his contract girlfriend, paid you a fortune, and you signed up for it. Yet, you didn’t take the money. I don’t know any friend who’d go to those lengths for someone."

He paused, his eyes narrowing as a knowing smirk spread across his lips.

"Unless..."

"You have feelings for him."

*

You were certain you didn't have any feelings for Mingyu. That much you knew. But whatever had happened between you and Jeonghan earlier in the office was beyond your control. The way his presence felt so imposing, so suffocating—it was like being caught in a storm you never saw coming. Jeonghan was a menace. You could tell just from the way his eyes glinted with malicious amusement, always reveling in the discomfort or pain of others. And that included his friend, Mingyu.

"Okay, let's say you don’t have feelings for him." Jeonghan's voice cut through the tension, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as if he'd already dismissed your objections.

Without warning, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. His thumb slid across the screen, and it lit up with a name that made your stomach drop—Mingyu.

What on earth was Jeonghan up to? Why was he calling Mingyu? Your heart began to pound in your chest as the phone rang, the sound impossibly loud in the stillness of the room.

The line clicked, and Mingyu's familiar voice came through, bright and casual. "Jeonghan... What’s up?"

The friendly tone was jarring to your senses. This was the voice of someone you'd never heard since you threw yourself into this mess with Mingyu. Certainly not the same voice from last night, the one that had been cold and cutting. The same man who, earlier that morning, had made his feelings crystal clear.

“I would never kiss you like I like you, Y/N. You’re a cheap woman. And even if you were the only woman in this world, I still wouldn’t kiss you like I liked you. You understand?”

The words echoed in your mind as if they were still fresh, still raw. The anger, the frustration—it didn’t hurt as much anymore. It was just a painful truth you had come to terms with: he had turned into a bastard. And that realization, as much as you tried to deny it, was freeing.

Jeonghan, however, seemed to savor every moment. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes dancing with mischief as he spoke into the phone.

“I’m with your girlfriend now,” he chirped, his voice dripping with amusement. He glanced over at you, his gaze mischievous. "I invited her over, and she came. She’s a beautiful woman."

There was a long, tense pause on the other side. No immediate reaction. You weren’t expecting one. There was no way Mingyu would get upset that you were here with Jeonghan. He had no reason to. His obsession with his ex, Hyorin, was enough to blind him to everything else.

Jeonghan’s eyes met yours again, but now there was something almost predatory in them as he leaned in closer. “I feel like I don’t deserve his money…” you had told him earlier, confessing a doubt you had never voiced before. And Jeonghan, with his wicked grin, had been quick to respond.

“I’ll help you feel like you deserve it, Y/N,” he’d promised, the words laced with an implication you were too afraid to fully understand.

The phone call continued, Jeonghan now speaking directly to you. “What do you think of my office, darling?” His voice was low, too casual. "How about that... table? Do you like my table?"

You were growing more confused by the second. What the hell was he trying to imply with these questions? Was it a game to him? Did it even matter?

But it was the next question that threw everything into chaos, sending a rush of heat to your face and tightening your chest.

“What do you think about Mingyu?” Jeonghan’s voice was calm but probing. "Do you like being his girlfriend?"

The silence from Mingyu on the other end only made everything worse. You could feel him listening, silently absorbing everything Jeonghan was about to say. The pressure was unbearable, and you found yourself biting down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the tension building inside you. You didn’t want to answer, didn’t know how to.

But you saw the glint in Jeonghan’s eyes. It was playful—too playful—and you knew that once that look took hold, there was no turning back.

“And how about being mine?” Jeonghan’s voice was a low, smooth whisper, the words hanging in the air like a threat, a challenge.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. Mingyu still hadn’t said anything. The silence between the three of you was suffocating, thick with unspoken implications. You could almost hear Jeonghan’s smirk widening, could almost feel the weight of his words pressing down on you, daring you to react.

*

Mingyu pounded into you with an urgency that felt primal, as if his very existence depended on it. Just an hour earlier, he had stormed into the house, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite name—desperation, jealousy, rage. You'd barely finished toweling off from your shower when he burst through the door, demanding to know why you had been with Jeonghan.

“I was with Hyorin when you called,” you said, the confusion in your voice palpable.

His jaw clenched at the mention of Hyorin. So it wasn’t just Jeonghan's presence that set him off, but the fact that he was with Hyorin?

The realization simmered between you like a storm on the verge of breaking. But then, without another word, Mingyu had closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that silenced your questions and pulled your body flush against his. It was as if Hyorin had never stood between you, as if she didn’t matter at all. The intensity in his eyes told you everything: he was lost, consumed, and somewhere beneath that, afraid.

Why, then, did he hold you as if the world might end in two months?

Was Hyorin really the cause of this frantic need?

Or was there more that he hadn’t told you?

Mingyu gripped your waist and lifted you onto the dining table, the hard edge pressing into your thighs. The table Jeonghan had mentioned in passing just today, in a tone laced with mischief.

Was this what Mingyu had been stewing over? The idea of Jeonghan touching you in his office?

“You’re mine the moment you signed that contract,” he growled, the heat of his breath grazing your ear as he buried himself inside you with an urgent, unrelenting rhythm.

His hands moved up to cup your breasts, fingers curling possessively around them as his voice dropped, husky and rough. “Gotta make my 35 billion worth it, right?"

*

The next morning, you woke up in Mingyu's arms, the remnants of the night clinging to your skin like a whispered secret. The blaring sound of your alarm shattered the silence, signaling the beginning of a day that promised exhaustion and long hours on set in another city. You shifted slightly, feeling the ache from the bruises on your body.

“Did I do that?” Mingyu’s voice, unexpectedly soft, cut through the tension hanging in the room. His eyes were wide with concern as they traced the discolored marks along your skin.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, surprised to see him fully awake, studying you with an expression you hadn’t seen in a while. He was too caught up in his own world to notice these things — too focused on himself last night. You almost wanted to tell him that they weren’t his doing, that it was Beomjae’s cruelty imprinted on you, but you knew better. Mingyu wouldn’t care. Or would he?

“No, it’s not you,” you whispered, the lie slipping out as easily as breathing.

Mingyu sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist, and reached out to touch the edge of a bruise that crept up your shoulder. “Who did this to you?” His voice was strained, eyes darkening. “Isn’t it painful? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

You looked at him for a long moment, searching for a hint of sincerity behind his sudden worry. He looked almost unrecognizable, stripped of his usual indifference, as though the man you once knew was peeking through. A weary sigh left your lips as you pushed yourself up and wrapped a robe around your sore body.

“It’s none of your business, Mingyu,” you said with a practiced coldness, shielding yourself from whatever softness he was trying to show.

“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend,” he protested, his tone almost petulant, as if he truly believed his own words.

A bitter chuckle escaped you. “Are you even listening to yourself, Kim Mingyu?” The disbelief in your voice echoed through the room as you moved to the vanity, tying your hair with mechanical precision. In the mirror, you caught a glimpse of his confusion, brows furrowed and eyes clouded with something unreadable.

“Just stick to being yourself,” you added, the edge in your tone slicing through any pretense of warmth. Before he could respond, you turned away and began preparing for the long day ahead, leaving whatever half-formed thoughts he had unspoken.

You arrived at the shooting location on time, weaving through bustling crew members as they prepped for the day. Greeting everyone with polite nods and smiles, you slid seamlessly into your work. Without the support of a label or company, there was no manager trailing behind you. Every break was spent alone, sitting in your old, worn-out car, waiting for the next call.

“Everyone knows they cast her just because she’s Kim Mingyu’s girlfriend.” The whispers were never far, a constant background noise you had learned to ignore.

You pushed through the two or three scenes you had, monitoring them closely on playback to ensure your performance held up. It was in places like this where you soaked up everything you could, learning and growing, despite the limitations of playing minor roles. The space for growth was narrow, but you squeezed through whatever cracks you found.

“Hey, I’m Boo Seungkwan.” The voice was friendly, and when you looked up, the assistant director stood before you with an open, sincere expression.

You stood and bowed politely. “I’m Ji Y/N. Please take care of me.”,

Boo Seungkwan was a familiar presence on set, a talented and respected assistant director who had built a strong reputation despite his young age. You knew he wouldn’t approach you without reason, which made your heart race with a mix of anticipation and dread.

“Are you the daughter of Ji Jinkyung?” The question hit you like a cold wave.

Your breath caught for a moment. How did he know? You had spent years avoiding this truth, never mentioning your father’s name to anyone. The rise and fall of Ji Jinkyung had been a scandal splashed across headlines when JiPH declared bankruptcy, a tragedy soon followed by your mother’s death. You weren’t ashamed of your past; you were haunted by the guilt of the lives that crumbled alongside your family’s fall.

Seungkwan’s eyes softened with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. “I remember seeing you on set with him every weekend,” he said, nostalgia lacing his voice. “And I saw ‘Morning Mourn.’ You were incredible in that film.”

The memory stung, but you masked it with a practiced smile. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Driving home, Seungkwan’s words lingered like a dark cloud. If Lee Beomjae was spreading the truth about your identity, the ripple effect could be devastating. If the rumor reached the media, the production team could drop you without hesitation. Seungkwan’s heads-up was a lifeline, a warning to prepare yourself.

You parked outside and dialed Beomjae’s number, the cold metal of your phone pressed against your ear as the night air seeped into your bones. You had to confront him, to make sure he understood that spreading rumors would ruin everything—whatever thin strand of normalcy you were clinging to while trying to repay the impossible debt he held over you. You felt foolish, lost in the labyrinth of his manipulation. Was the debt even real? Or was it just another tool he used to torture you, to remind you of your powerlessness?

The vibration of an incoming message pulled you from your thoughts.

“Come to my parents’ house. There’s something they want to discuss with you.”

Mingyu’s text sat on your screen, an unexpected summons that left you staring, uncertain of what awaited you on the other side.

*

“I don’t remember raising you like this.” Mingyu’s father stormed out of the room, leaving behind an icy silence that wrapped around his wife, their son, and the woman who had walked out on Mingyu at the altar just two months ago. Mingyu released a heavy sigh as he sank deeper into the couch, feeling the weight of the room pressing down on him. Next to him, Hyorin sat with her head bowed, looking as fragile as porcelain, having come to his parents earlier to plead for their acceptance—an act that had summoned Mingyu here in a rush.

“Your father’s right, Mingyu. You’re crossing a line,” his mother said, her voice taut with disappointment. “When we heard you had a girlfriend, we assumed it would be someone we didn’t know. But imagine our shock when we found out it was Y/N. She’s like a daughter to us, Mingyu.”

Hyorin’s confession had unraveled everything. She had exposed Mingyu’s plan to win her back, even spilling the details to his parents. Mingyu had thought he could play for time—hold Hyorin off just long enough to make his next move. He hadn’t expected her to take matters into her own hands and throw everything into chaos.

“She agreed to it, Mother,” Mingyu defended, his voice low and strained. “She needs money—a lot of it. And she’s not the same Y/N you remember. She’s changed.”

His mother scoffed at his justification, a sound filled with disbelief and disdain. “Listen to yourself, Mingyu. Do you even hear how ridiculous you sound?” She stood up abruptly, the soft rustle of her skirt filling the silence as she followed her husband out of the room.

Mingyu’s heart sank deeper into his chest. The finality of his mother’s parting words echoed back at him as she turned at the doorway, her gaze steely and resolute. “This conversation isn’t over. I will speak to Y/N myself.”

Mingyu slumped back against the couch, the tension in his shoulders not easing even a bit. He glanced at his phone. The text he’d sent you over an hour ago remained unanswered, and now your silence gnawed at him with fresh urgency.

“I’m sorry,” Hyorin whispered, her hands trembling as she covered her face. Tears threatened to spill, and she struggled to hold them back. “I didn’t mean for it to get this big. I was desperate.”

Mingyu’s eyes softened, a sigh slipping past his lips. “No need to apologize, Hyorin. It’s done.”

“I promise I’ll do better,” she said, her voice breaking. “But please, stop this, Mingyu. Let’s go back to how things were. Let her go and come back to me.”

Mingyu drove home with a storm of thoughts churning in his mind. Frustration clenched his jaw tight, fueling his anger. You hadn't shown up when he needed you, and the disappointment gnawed at him. His parents refused to have a conversation without you; they cherished you, even after all these years apart. And Mingyu despised you for that. You were always the one they looked at with warmth, while he stood in the shadow of their expectations.

As he pushed open the door to the apartment, prepared to unleash another round of arguments with you, a familiar ritual that often ended with the two of you waking up next to each other in uneasy silence the next morning, he froze. His anger drained as he took in the sight before him. You were lying on the couch, eyes closed, face bruised and lips swollen.

“Who did this to you?” Mingyu’s voice cracked with urgency, his earlier frustration transforming into a different kind of rage. He crossed the room in three quick strides and cupped your face, startling you awake with his touch. The worry in his eyes felt foreign, almost out of place, but it was there, unmistakable.

You blinked at him, dazed and confused, mumbling something he couldn’t quite catch. But Mingyu wasn’t listening. His eyes traced the darkening bruise on your cheekbone and the split in your lip, and an irrational fury bubbled up inside him. The idea that someone had hurt you like this made his blood run hot.

“Tell me who did this to you,” he pressed, his tone leaving no room for evasion. His fingers gripped your jaw just tight enough to draw your gaze, his own eyes blazing. He didn’t know what he would do once he had a name, but he was too far gone in his anger to care.

“I fell during shooting and hurt myself,” you whispered, eyes darting away from his.

Mingyu’s shoulders slumped slightly as he exhaled, the tension simmering down just enough for him to think. Without a word, he stood and retrieved the first aid kit and a bowl of ice cubes, kneeling beside you and insisting on tending to your injuries.

“How was the meeting?” you asked, breaking the heavy silence as he dabbed an antiseptic on your lip with more gentleness than you expected.

“Is that really important right now?” he scoffed, pressing the cloth to your bruised cheek. “We need to go to the hospital.”

You shook your head, a stubborn glint in your eyes. “It’ll heal.”

Mingyu’s movements faltered when you added, “I heard Hyorin was there. Did you get back together?”

He stiffened, setting the ice aside as his eyes met yours. “How do you know?” His tone was sharp, a thread of suspicion woven through it. “Were you there?”

You nodded, wincing as the motion pulled at your sore skin. “I came by for a bit. The maid mentioned Hyorin was inside, so I stayed back. I waited for over an hour, but I realized it would take longer, so I left.”

Mingyu’s frustration returned, tinged with a different emotion this time. “With your face looking like this? Are you always this stupid, Y/N?” His voice cracked, half-worried, half-angry.

You flinched but kept your gaze steady. “So, did you take her back?”

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, the action filled with exasperation. “Is that what matters right now? You’re hurt, Y/N. I didn’t even know until I walked in the door.”

A confused look crossed your face as you whispered, “But that’s why we’re doing all of this, Mingyu. We need Hyorin back, for your sake.”

Mingyu stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in and tying knots in his chest. Your face was a mess of bruises, but there you sat, so focused on his plan, on helping him, as if your own pain didn't matter at all. The guilt gnawed at him, tearing apart the flimsy walls he’d built around himself.

Maybe what Mingyu feel about you lately is just a guilt. He just... pity you, that's it.

*

One month left before you’d be officially disboyfriended Mingyu. The term you coined mocked you with its bitter humor as you called Jeonghan, settling into the driver’s seat of your car. The air around you was heavy after your meeting with Hyorin. She had been surprisingly composed, delivering her message with a practiced smile: Mingyu and she were getting back together. Mingyu had even promised to escort her to the Jeon annual event this weekend, a public confirmation of their rekindled relationship.

You gritted your teeth, the irony not lost on you—did Hyorin know that for the past month, Mingyu had been tangled up with you, both in mind and body? The betrayal tasted metallic on your tongue.

Jeonghan picked up on the third ring. “So, what’s up?” His casual tone brought a semblance of calm to your frayed nerves.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for what you were about to commit to. “I’m in,” you said, voice low but firm.

There was a pause before Jeonghan chuckled, the sound both amused and intrigued. “What are you implying?” His voice took on a more serious edge, probing for clarity.

“I’ll take your offer,” you clarified, the weight of the words sinking in. “The offer to make me feel like I deserve his money.”

Jeonghan’s laughter came through, rich and approving. “That’s my girl,” he said with a hint of pride. “Alright, listen. Here’s the plan: meet me at my store in Gangnam after lunch.”

A few hours later, you stood under the warm glow of boutique lights as Jeonghan’s keen eyes assessed you. The racks around you were adorned with high-end pieces—silk, satin, tailored elegance. He moved from one option to another, fingers sliding over fabrics, before selecting a few and holding them up against your frame.

“Change into this,” he said, gesturing to a piece that was an explosion of jewel-toned fabric. You nodded and disappeared behind the velvet curtain of the fitting room. The process repeated: outfits changed, critiques delivered. A disapproving headshake here, a muttered comment there—“Not good enough,” he’d say, or a more frustrated, “We need an emergency meeting with the designers. Yoonique has to fit everyone.”

Then, you stepped out in the last dress. Jeonghan’s eyes lit up, and he gasped, genuinely taken aback. The black satin dress hugged your body like a secret, long-sleeved and sleek, with an open back that hinted at danger and a neckline that dipped tastefully. A slit ran high on your thigh, exposing just enough skin to catch anyone’s attention. It was bold yet elegant—perfect.

“That’s it,” he said, satisfaction curling his lips into a smirk. “It’s yours.” He stood and circled you slowly, eyeing the bruises that marred the expanse of your back. His smirk faded, replaced by a frown. “We’ll need to cover these. Is this from Beomjae?” he asked, his voice tight with concern.

You nodded, catching the muttered “that bastard” that escaped him. Jeonghan’s eyes met yours, a silent promise lingering there: no more bruises, not after today.

On the day of the Jeon annual event, you arrived with Jeonghan, knowing full well the storm of media attention it would draw. 'Mingyu's girlfriend seen with Jeonghan, while Mingyu arrives with the ex-fiancée who left him at the altar.' The headline alone promised chaos and scandal.

Jeonghan had made you two promises. First, he would help you with Beomjae. His legal team was already working on investigating the debt that bound you to that abusive man, ensuring you wouldn't owe a penny and that Beomjae would face justice for what he had done. Second, he would help you reclaim yourself—to feel whole and worthy, with or without Mingyu in the picture.

“Tell me, since when?” Jeonghan’s question came out of nowhere as the two of you drove back from his store that day. The question made your heart stutter.

“Since when what?” you asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

Jeonghan scoffed lightly, his eyes flickering with a knowing glint. “Since when did you start liking Mingyu?”

The silence stretched, and you searched your memory, trying to pinpoint the moment. Since when? Had you even realized you still liked him? Or was it a relic of the childhood crush you’d once harbored? Memories trickled in: Mingyu as the boy who would lose every game with his friends but somehow always win when he played with you—because you let him. That’s what you remembered most clearly. The rest blurred into moments that felt as if they had always existed.

In high school, things shifted. Conversations became sparse, reserved for those rare moments when home felt stifling, and you’d climb into each other’s bedroom windows just to share the silence. Then, without warning, he had to leave. Distance stretched across miles and years, and life pushed you apart. Your father’s passing forced you to sell your phone, cutting off all contact. What once felt close turned distant, and the feelings that remained had never been addressed.

You exhaled shakily, unable to meet Jeonghan’s gaze. “I...I don’t know,” you admitted. Shame colored your voice—shame that after everything, after being discarded and treated like an afterthought, you still cared for him.

Jeonghan’s arm encircled your waist as the two of you stepped into the grand ballroom, the low hum of whispers swelling as eyes followed your entrance. The whispers said everything you were thinking. Why was Mingyu’s girlfriend with Jeonghan when Mingyu had walked in with Hyorin? The question echoed in your mind too.

Jeonghan, ever composed, treated you like royalty throughout the event. His voice dipped to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned in. “Just follow my lead,” he instructed. If anyone knew how to navigate this social minefield, it was him.

But when you excused yourself to go to the restroom, a hand shot out from the shadows of the corridor, pulling you into a quiet corner. Your back hit the wall, and you were met with Mingyu’s fierce gaze, a tempest swirling in his eyes.

“Why are you here with Jeonghan? He’s my friend,” Mingyu hissed, voice laced with anger barely contained.

You lifted your chin, meeting his glare head-on. “Am I not allowed to be here? Is it because of my status?” The pointed question carried the sting of Hyorin’s earlier remark: ‘You’re not on Mingyu’s level, Y/N.’

Mingyu’s brows pulled together in frustration. “What? That’s not what I meant! I’m asking why you’re with Jeonghan.” His voice strained as he pressed you lightly against the wall.

You took a steadying breath, finding a surge of confidence within yourself. “Because you didn’t invite me. Jeonghan did."

“Everyone knows you’re my girlfriend!” His voice cracked, the desperation seeping through.

You scoffed, your eyes narrowing. “But you showed up with your ex, so tell me, Mingyu, what’s the difference?”

He faltered, searching for words. “I didn’t come with her. We just met here!”

“Does it even matter?” Your voice dropped, quiet and weary. The fight in you waned as reality set in.

Mingyu’s eyes blazed with anger as your words echoed between you. He took a sharp breath, fists clenching at his sides. “What’s gotten into you? Are you even hearing yourself? We’re still in contract!” he reminded you, his tone harsh and commanding.

“So what? We already broke the contract the moment you put your hands on me, Mingyu,” you shot back, holding your ground. “There’s nothing in the agreement saying other men can’t do the same.”

His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened as he stepped closer, the space between you suffocating. “Did you sleep with Jeonghan?” The question came out as a growl, possessive and edged with jealousy.

You tilted your chin defiantly. “It’s not your business, Mingyu. I can do whatever I want.”

“No,” he said, voice low but brimming with fury. “You’re my girlfriend. I paid you to be my girlfriend, and you should listen to me. We’re going home.”

The statement cut through you, reminding you of the transactional nature of what was supposed to be a façade. It was true, he’d paid you to play this role, but somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred. Your heart thudded in your chest as you wondered what awaited you once you returned to his house. The memory of last night lingered—how your bodies had moved in sync, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

But tonight, the air was different, thick with tension and unspoken truths. You swallowed hard, worrying if there were still any condoms left in his house, remembering using the last one in a moment of impulsive passion. Your pulse quickened at the thought of what this confrontation could mean, unsure whether it would spiral into a battle or ignite something deeper.

*

Hyorin had asked you that one time, "Are you two sleeping together in our room?" Her question was layered with implications. Was she trying to confirm if you and Mingyu had crossed that line? Or was she mocking you by emphasizing our room, as if to remind you that she once had ownership over that space, even after she left him on the altar? Your mind raced with anger and confusion. The only thing you wanted to do as you sat across from her was to slap that smug smile off her face. How dare she come back after everything she'd done?

“Why?” The word slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it.

Hyorin’s smile widened, cruel and taunting. “Well, he doesn’t like anyone else in his bed, so I was wondering if you sleep there, in our room. I mean, the master bedroom. I’m sorry…” Her tone dripped with insincerity, and you knew she wasn’t sorry at all.

The memory stung as you woke up before dawn. You were back in your own room, while Mingyu lay sleeping beside you. The events of last night still echoed in your mind. After he dragged you out of the event, you had dared to ask him, almost pleading, if the two of you could sleep in his room instead.

“No. I don’t like when someone else enters my room,” he had said, his voice cold and detached.

“But you said I’m your girlfriend,” you had whispered, trying to understand where you truly stood.

Mingyu’s gaze darkened. “You’re just a girlfriend I paid for. Don’t ask for more.”

The words cut through you like a blade. You sighed and gently pulled yourself from his embrace, a hollowness settling deep inside. It was time. You couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

He had Hyorin back. The proof sat on the nightstand—his check for 35 billion won, neatly tucked under his phone. Your job was done. Everything you had endured, every humiliation and compromise, had led to this. And it wasn’t enough to let you into his real space, his heart. You knew then that Jeonghan was right; staying by Mingyu’s side would only continue to break you.

You packed your essentials silently, fighting the lump in your throat, and slipped out of the house before the sun rose. You drove aimlessly, just needing to be far away. Your apartment wasn’t safe with Beomjae still lurking; Jeonghan had warned you that it might take two more months to gather enough evidence to protect you in court. He urged patience, but today you had none left.

All this time, every sacrifice you made for Mingyu, every part of yourself you gave, it was never enough for him to let you into his true sanctuary. It was time to go, time to leave behind the pain and reclaim whatever was left of yourself.

Mingyu woke up to an emptiness that gnawed at him immediately. He reached out instinctively, expecting to feel your warmth beside him, but his hand met only cold sheets. He sat up, confusion creasing his brow as he glanced around the room. The stillness was unsettling, the house too quiet.

“Y/n?” he called out, his voice breaking the silence. He listened, hoping for the sound of your voice or even the light shuffle of your footsteps. Nothing. A wave of irritation surged through him as he threw back the covers and stood up, the cool floor beneath his feet doing nothing to temper his rising anger.

He strode through the house, checking the kitchen, the living room, even the guest room. Empty. The frustration that had simmered inside him since the event now boiled over. Why would you leave without saying anything?

As he stormed back into yout room, something on the nightstand caught his eye. The check he had written for you sat there, staring back at him like an accusation. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. The sight of it made his blood run cold and hot all at once.

It was the final insult. You hadn’t just left—you had left him with the one thing that symbolized the transactional nature of your relationship, the thing that once gave him control but now mocked him with your absence. He clenched his fist so hard his knuckles turned white. The implications of you leaving the check behind sent a spike of panic through him, laced with anger. You were rejecting everything: the arrangement, the money, him.

“Damn it, Y/n!” he roared, sweeping his arm across the nightstand. The check, his phone, and a glass of water crashed to the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the room, mirroring the turmoil inside him.

He paced back and forth, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The idea of you walking out without a word gnawed at him. You had always been the one constant in his chaotic life, the one person who, despite everything, was there. Now, the emptiness felt sharper than ever, and he realized too late how deep your absence cut.

Mingyu grabbed his phone from the floor, ignoring the cracked screen as he tried to call you. The call rang once, twice, and then went straight to voicemail. Frustration clawed at him as he dialed again, the unanswered call only fueling his desperation.

“Pick up, damn it,” he muttered under his breath. The third call met the same fate, and it was then that a sinking feeling set in. This wasn’t just you leaving for a break. This was different.

He stared at the check on the floor, now crumpled and stained with water. The reality of your departure settled heavily on his chest. You were gone, and for the first time, he felt the weight of what it meant to be truly alone.

*

Mingyu stormed into Jeonghan's office first thing in the morning, his eyes dark with urgency and frustration. Jeonghan, who had been informed of his sudden arrival, greeted him with a polite smile that quickly faded at the sight of Mingyu’s tense expression.

"Where’s Y/n?" Mingyu demanded, his voice sharp and accusing. Jeonghan’s smile faltered as confusion clouded his features. What did he mean?

"She’s gone, Jeonghan. And you were with her last night," Mingyu continued, his tone carrying a hint of accusation, referencing the moment you arrived at the event on Jeonghan’s arm.

Jeonghan’s brows knitted together, a flash of realization and disbelief crossing his face. "No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "You were the one who took her home. You dragged her out of the event, remember?"

Mingyu’s expression darkened, and he muttered a curse under his breath. "Shit."

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, studying the man in front of him. "What’s going on, Mingyu?" he pressed, his voice steady but probing. The room felt heavy with the weight of what was left unsaid.

Mingyu bit his lip, his eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. "It’s... complicated," he finally mumbled, his shoulders tense.

Jeonghan tilted his head, his gaze sharpening. "What could possibly be too complicated for me to understand? The contract? The debt? Spill it."

Mingyu’s eyes widened slightly. He knew? Did you tell Jeonghan everything? After a moment’s hesitation, Mingyu nodded, acknowledging Jeonghan’s knowledge. His mind raced as he tried to piece together what you might have shared.

"I wrote her a check for 35 billion won. She was in debt, so I helped her, and in return, she helped me with... well, everything. But now she’s gone," Mingyu’s voice cracked as he threw his hands up in exasperation, his frustration palpable.

Jeonghan was silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, with a deep sigh, he said, "She didn’t take the money."

Mingyu’s heart skipped a beat, disbelief flickering across his face. Did you tell Jeonghan that as well? The thought of you leaving behind the money he had given you felt like a slap in the face.

"If she’s gone, she’s really gone, Mingyu," Jeonghan said quietly, a hint of empathy coloring his tone. "You have Hyorin back, don’t you?"

Mingyu’s eyes flashed with something close to desperation. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. "This isn’t about Hyorin," he said, almost growling the words.

Jeonghan nodded slowly, a knowing look settling on his face. "I know. You're confused right now, I can tell. But maybe you need to ask yourself why it’s not about Hyorin anymore."

Mingyu paced back and forth in Jeonghan’s office, his mind racing with thoughts that tangled and frayed like a rope under too much pressure. Every moment that passed without you felt like sand slipping through an hourglass, a reminder of how close he was to losing you for good.

“Jeonghan, tell me where she went,” Mingyu’s voice cracked, a rare vulnerability shining through his usually composed demeanor. He wasn’t used to feeling so out of control, and it gnawed at him.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, watching him with a look that was part sympathy, part indifference. “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,” Jeonghan said, his tone as calm as ever. “You need to figure this out for yourself, Mingyu. Chasing her without understanding why she left won’t help either of you.”

Mingyu’s jaw clenched, frustration coursing through him. “I don’t need a lecture, Jeonghan. I need answers,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “You said you knew everything, so why won’t you help me?”

Jeonghan sighed and stood up, walking over to the window where sunlight filtered in, casting long, jagged shadows across the room. “Mingyu, you’re looking for her like she’s an answer to a problem. But she’s not an answer—she’s a person who needed more than you were willing to give,” Jeonghan said, turning to face him. “And if you don’t understand that, you won’t find her in any meaningful way.”

Mingyu’s breath quickened as anger and panic warred inside him. He wanted to shout, to lash out, but deep down, he knew Jeonghan was right. You had left, and it wasn’t just because of Hyorin, or the contract, or the money—it was because he hadn’t given you what you truly needed. A place in his life that was more than just obligation or arrangement.

Mingyu paused in the doorway, half-turned back to Jeonghan, who was still watching him with an expression that mingled curiosity and challenge. The silence crackled between them, charged and tense.

“I’m doing this because she’s my friend,” Mingyu finally said, his voice strained as if he was convincing himself as much as Jeonghan. “I love Hyorin. I always have. This isn’t about feelings, it’s about doing the right thing.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, a wry smile curving his lips. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the window frame. “Your friend?” he echoed, the words laced with skepticism. “Mingyu, if she was just a friend, you wouldn’t be standing here, desperate and wild-eyed because she left. You wouldn’t have risked everything to keep her by your side.”

“I’m not risking anything!” Mingyu’s voice rose, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m looking for her because she needs help, not because—”

“Not because what?” Jeonghan cut in, raising an eyebrow. “Not because you’re afraid of losing her? Not because seeing her with someone else drove you crazy last night? Tell me, Mingyu, what kind of ‘friend’ does that?”

Mingyu felt the heat creep up his neck, anger and confusion tangling in his chest. He opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t find the words. Every accusation Jeonghan made landed too close to the truth, hitting on a part of him he refused to acknowledge.

“It’s not like that,” Mingyu muttered, though even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. “She’s different. She was there for me when no one else was, and now she’s gone. I owe her, Jeonghan. That’s all.”

Jeonghan stepped forward, his expression softening for a moment. “If you owe her, then give her more than just this frantic search. Be honest with yourself. If she’s just a friend, why did you let her become more? And if she’s more, why are you fighting so hard to deny it?”

Mingyu looked down, the room blurring as his thoughts spiraled. Memories of you, laughter shared in quiet moments, the way your eyes softened when you looked at him—all of it clashed with the image of Hyorin, the woman he once thought he’d spend his life with. The weight of conflicting emotions pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.

He turned away from Jeonghan without another word, storming out of the office, his mind a chaotic mess.

Jeonghan sighed as he pulled out his phone, his fingers tapping impatiently as he called you. It took five rings before you finally picked up.

"Sorry, I had a shoot," you muttered, your voice laced with exhaustion. But that wasn’t the answer Jeonghan was looking for.

"You didn’t take the money. What is wrong with you?" he shot back, frustration sharp in his tone.

There was a pause on your end, the kind of pause that said more than words ever could. Then, a quiet sigh slipped through. "How do you know?"

"Kim Mingyu stormed into my office looking for you," Jeonghan said, his voice growing more clipped. "He’s running around like a madman, and you didn’t take the money! I thought we were clear, Y/n."

But it hadn’t been clear, and Jeonghan knew that. It was never clear when it came to you and Mingyu. Silence lingered on the line, thick and telling.

You thought you’d fallen in love alone.

Jeonghan wanted to scream at you, to tell you that Mingyu loved you back. He wanted to shout that Mingyu’s ego was too big for him to admit it, that Hyorin was a convenient excuse, and that the people around him had only ever clouded his judgment. But Jeonghan wasn’t naive. He knew Mingyu better than that. Deep down, he knew Mingyu cared for you. No, it was more than that — Mingyu wanted you. He just didn’t know how to want you properly.

"It’s complicated," you muttered, the words barely above a breath.

Jeonghan pressed a hand to his forehead, fingers threading through his hair. Since when had he, of all people, failed to understand "complicated"? He'd seen it from the beginning — the way Mingyu's gaze lingered too long on you, the way your eyes softened at the sight of him. He saw it every time Mingyu made an excuse for you to stay. Complicated was an understatement.

"Okay," Jeonghan exhaled heavily, trying to stay calm. "Where are you?"

"Why should I tell you?" you countered, voice laced with weariness and defiance. "I’m just at a shoot. It’s a little far away."

Jeonghan let out a dry scoff. "Don’t play with me, Y/n. I’m not in the mood." His eyes darted to the window, the sunlight blinding but not nearly as irritating as the situation. "I need to make sure Beomjae doesn't get to you. Who’s gonna do that after you left Mingyu, huh?"

There was another pause, and this time it lasted longer. The weight of his words settled into the air, heavy and undeniable.

"Jeju," you finally admitted, voice quieter than before. "I’m in Jeju Island."

Jeonghan closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from his body. His head tilted back as he stared at the ceiling, lips curling into a faint, bitter smile.

"Of course you are," he muttered to himself, glancing out at the sky as if Jeju was close enough to see.

*

It was hard to control everything rationally when your heart had been battered one too many times — and it always seemed to be by the people you cared about most. Your father had left you with a crushing 35-billion-won debt. Your mother had left you behind as if you’d never existed. And now, Mingyu... You couldn’t even put into words what he had done to you, perhaps because he’d never truly been yours to begin with. He was just a friend. A friend who made you his contractual lover. How had it all come to this?

"That’s a wrap for tonight! Thank you so much for your hard work, everyone!" Boo Seungkwan's voice rang out loud and clear on set, cutting through the evening air.

He was the one who had cast you himself — handpicked you to play the lead in his film about a woman struggling with depression, seeking the meaning of life on Jeju Island. He’d told you he saw something in you, something raw and unspoken.

What a cruel twist of fate, you thought. The script no longer felt like a story you were telling. It had become your story. Every scene, every line, every emotion you were asked to portray felt like you were reliving your own pain on screen.

The crew slowly packed up, their tired voices fading as they made their way back to the rented house to rest. But you stayed behind, drawn to the shore like it had called your name. The night air was cool against your skin, and the steady lull of the waves was the only sound accompanying your thoughts.

You sat by the edge of the water, hugging your knees as you gazed at your reflection in the rippling surface. The moonlight softened the contours of your face, but it didn’t soften the hollow look in your eyes. The water moved, shimmering, shifting — it looked like it was calling you. Come closer, it seemed to say.

But you knew better. You knew that chasing that call wouldn’t solve anything. Ending it here wouldn’t leave anyone with peace — it would only leave scars. The kind of scars your mother had left behind when she vanished. She had been forgotten by most people, but for the ones who had loved her, the wounds never quite healed.

Who loves you, though?

The question struck you like a sudden gust of wind. It wasn’t the first time you’d wondered, but tonight, the ache was sharper.

Has anyone ever truly loved you?

Your mind wandered to your first love.

Your first kiss.

Your first everything.

All of them had been with Kim Mingyu.

You blinked, your lips parting to whisper his name, "Kim Mingyu..." The sound of it disappeared into the breeze, unnoticed and unanswered.

It was foolish, you knew. Because at the end of it all, Mingyu didn’t love you. He loved someone else. Wi Hyorin.

Her name alone carried a weight you didn’t want to bear, but it settled on you regardless.

What’s so great about Wi Hyorin? you wondered bitterly, clenching your fists against your knees. Your heart wanted to scoff, but your mind was crueler.

She’s soft-spoken. Calm. Composed. Smart. And from a wealthy, well-respected family.

You let out a bitter laugh, hollow and sharp like glass breaking. Of course, it made sense. She was everything you weren’t.

So what about you?

Your lips pressed into a thin line. No words came to mind. Not a single one. Because what could you offer him? Debt? Baggage? A heart too bruised to believe in love anymore?

Nothing. That’s what.

The ocean breeze brushed past you, cold but oddly comforting, like a quiet reassurance that you were still here. Still alive. Still breathing. The waves rolled in and out, persistent and unyielding, never once doubting their place in the world. You envied them.

For a moment, you closed your eyes, letting the sound of the sea fill the hollow space inside you.

If only love could be as steady as the tide.

"Ji Y/n..."

The familiar voice made you freeze, your heart lurching in your chest. Slowly, you turned toward the source of the call.

Your eyes widened. Kim Mingyu.

He stood there, breathless, still in his office attire, his tie loosened and his hair slightly disheveled. His chest rose and fell with each sharp breath, as if he’d run straight from the city to find you. His gaze locked on yours, his brows drawn together in a deep, urgent frown.

"You—" you stumbled toward him, your mind scrambling for words. "How did you get here? Why are you here?"

He chuckled lightly, a dry, breathless sound. His eyes, however, were far from playful. They were intense, sharp with resolve.

"You really want me to chase you, huh?" His voice was low, almost like a whisper meant only for you.

Before you could even process his words, he moved. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, firm but gentle at the same time. His warmth seeped into you, his heartbeat thudding steadily against your ear. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, caught completely off guard by his sudden embrace.

"Mingyu, what are you—"

"I need you, Y/n." His voice was low, rough, filled with something raw and unfiltered. He leaned his head down, his breath fanning lightly against your hair. His words fell like quiet confessions against your ear, each one carrying more weight than the last. "I need you in my life."

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling into his shirt as if you were afraid he might disappear.

"You’re—" you pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face. His eyes, usually so guarded, were bare now, stripped of all his usual bravado. You saw it there — the honesty, the fear, the vulnerability. The love.

Your heartbeat felt like it stopped entirely when his next words fell from his lips.

"I think I love you, Y/n," he said, his gaze unwavering, his tone steady despite the chaos of emotions swirling between you both.

You blinked, stunned into silence. Your heart thudded painfully in your chest, faster and faster until it felt like it might burst.

"But..." Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "What about Hyorin?"

Mingyu’s eyes softened. He let out a slow, measured breath, as if he’d been waiting for that question. His hand cupped the back of your head, his thumb gently tracing small circles against your hair. His forehead leaned against yours, eyes closed, his next words spoken with absolute certainty.

"Not once in the past three months did I think about anyone but you."

The weight of his words crushed every doubt you’d been holding. It wasn’t just something he’d said to convince you — it was the truth, raw and undeniable.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your chest tight with the weight of all the unspoken feelings you’d been burying for so long.

"You’re cruel," you whispered, your voice shaky as you tried to hold back your tears. "You’re so, so cruel, Kim Mingyu."

"I know," he murmured, his eyes opening to meet yours, filled with guilt and something that looked too close to regret. "But I’m here now, Y/n. I’m here."

His arms tightened around you, his embrace firm and unyielding, as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

"And I’m not letting you go this time," he said softly, his voice steady but filled with an unshakable resolve.

Your breath came in shallow, uneven waves as you stared into his eyes. The weight of his words pressed down on you, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. Your heart wanted to believe him, but your mind, bruised and battered by everything that had come before, hesitated.

"You say that now," you muttered, your gaze dropping to his chest where your hands rested, still clutching his shirt. "But what happens when it gets hard again, Mingyu? What happens when Hyorin looks at you like you’re her whole world, and you start to doubt this—" You swallowed hard, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. "—start to doubt me?"

He tilted his head, his eyes soft but unwavering. "I won’t."

"How can you be so sure?" Your voice cracked on the last word. "How am I supposed to believe you when it’s always been her? She was your dream, your everything. I was just—" Your voice broke entirely, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded. "I was just convenient."

"Stop," Mingyu said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. He cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look at him, really look at him. His eyes were darker than usual, filled with something you hadn’t seen before — clarity.

"You were never convenient," he said, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes closing as he breathed you in, like you were air after suffocating too long. "You were the only thing that ever made sense."

Your chest tightened, your breath hitching as you fought against the onslaught of emotions threatening to pull you under. "You’re just saying that because I left. People always want what they can’t have."

"No," he replied, his voice low but steady, carrying the weight of everything he’d been too blind to see before. "People always want what they’ve already lost."

Silence hung between you, thick and suffocating. The sound of waves crashing against the shore echoed in the distance, rhythmic and unending, a stark contrast to the storm brewing between you both.

"You didn’t lose me, Mingyu," you whispered, your voice small but certain. "You gave me away."

His face contorted with pain, his brows furrowing as if your words had physically struck him. His hands fell from your face, his head dropping low, his breathing sharp and shallow.

"You’re right," he muttered, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I did."

You took a step back, needing space to breathe, needing distance before your heart betrayed you again. "So why are you here now, Mingyu? What do you want from me?"

He lifted his head, eyes wild with desperation, his gaze locking onto yours with a ferocity you’d never seen before. He stepped forward, closing the distance you’d tried to create.

"I want you," he said with such raw intensity that it left you breathless. "Not as a friend. Not as an arrangement. I want you because I’m in love with you, Y/n. And it took me losing you to realize it, but I know it now. I know it with every part of me."

Your breath hitched. The waves crashed louder in the distance, or maybe it was the thundering of your heart in your ears. You shook your head, backing away another step, but Mingyu followed.

"You’re just scared," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re scared because I hurt you. I get it. I hurt you worse than anyone else ever has, and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you I won’t hurt you again."

"Don’t promise me things you can’t keep, Mingyu," you said, your voice trembling with exhaustion and heartbreak. "I’m so tired of hearing people say they’ll stay, only for them to walk away."

"I’m not walking away," he said, his eyes glinting with determination. His voice didn’t rise, but it carried a conviction so strong that it made you pause. He took one slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze unwavering. "If you tell me to leave, I will. But if you tell me to stay, Y/n, I’ll never leave again. I swear it."

His words hung in the air between you, delicate but unbreakable.

Your breath trembled, your body taut like a wire pulled too tight. "And if you’re lying?"

"I’m not," he answered immediately, his gaze steady and sure. "But if I ever do, you won’t have to leave me, Y/n. I’ll walk away myself, knowing I never deserved you in the first place."

Silence. Long, heavy, unbearable silence.

The waves filled it. The seagulls in the distance filled it. But you didn’t speak.

He stood there, waiting, holding himself still like he was afraid that any sudden movement might scare you away. His chest rose and fell slowly, his breath measured, but his eyes... his eyes didn’t waver once.

"I hate you," you said softly, but your voice cracked in a way that betrayed you.

Mingyu exhaled a small, almost broken laugh. "I know."

"I hate how easy it is for you to say these things now," you continued, your lips trembling, tears brimming once more. "I hate how much I want to believe you."

"Then believe me," he said, stepping closer, his hand reaching out to take yours. He held it gently, like he was holding something fragile and precious. His eyes searched yours, soft but certain. "Believe me, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving you made the right choice."

You stared at him, his words sinking in, the sincerity of it wrapping around your heart like a thread you couldn’t untangle. It terrified you how much you wanted to believe him.

"Mingyu," you whispered, his name a breath, a plea, a warning all in one.

"I’m here," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. "I’m right here."

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and you hated him for that too. Why did he always make you cry? Your fingers gripped his shirt, your forehead pressing against his chest as the weight of everything came crashing down.

"You better not be lying," you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled but not lost. "If you are, I’ll never forgive you."

Mingyu’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you in with a tenderness that shattered every wall you’d built. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

"I’m not lying," he whispered, his voice steady as the waves beyond you both. "I’m never lying to you again."

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe him.

*

"Cut!"

The director’s voice echoed through the set, and the entire crew let out a collective sigh of relief. Mingyu watched from the sidelines, his gaze fixed on you. His lips tugged into a small, proud smile as he saw you beam at everyone, bowing politely and thanking each crew member for their hard work. Your energy was infectious, even after a long day of filming.

"That’s a wrap, everyone!" Boo Seungkwan, the ever-lively director, announced with his trademark enthusiasm.

Mingyu stepped forward, his presence as commanding as ever in his sleek suit. Seungkwan spotted him and grinned, walking over with open arms. They exchanged a firm handshake, the weight of trust and friendship clear in the gesture.

"This movie better be a hit," Mingyu joked, his deep voice laced with playful seriousness.

Seungkwan snorted, rolling his eyes. "With your investment? It better be. I’m not about to ruin my spotless reputation."

"You should be grateful," Mingyu shot back, raising an eyebrow. "I let you use my name and my wife's name for this movie. And I even let her make a cameo appearance." His grin widened with mock arrogance, and Seungkwan waved him off like he’d heard it all before.

"Yes, yes, thank you, Mr. Investor," Seungkwan quipped, tilting his head in a sarcastic bow. "I’ll be sure to write that in the credits — 'With gracious permission from Kim Mingyu, the benevolent.' How’s that sound?"

Mingyu's laugh came from deep in his chest, sharp and rich with amusement. "Don’t forget to add 'world’s most handsome husband' in there too," he added, eyes flicking toward you as you approached.

Seungkwan's gaze followed Mingyu's line of sight, and his face lit up as he noticed you walking toward them. Your smile was bright, your strides light and confident, even as exhaustion clung to the edges of your movements.

"Amazing," Seungkwan muttered under his breath, his grin turning sly as he watched Mingyu’s entire demeanor soften.

“Thank you so much for letting me be part of this movie, Director Boo,” you greeted Seungkwan warmly. Your voice was light, your eyes crinkling with genuine gratitude.

“Trust me, I wish I could’ve had you in more scenes,” Seungkwan replied, shooting a teasing look at Mingyu. “But this man refused to let me put you in for more than two.”

Mingyu, as if on cue, jabbed at Seungkwan’s side, but Seungkwan dodged with the agility of someone who had been friends with Mingyu for far too long.

"Don’t listen to him," you said, letting out a soft, melodic laugh. Your hand rested lightly on Mingyu’s arm, grounding him in a way only you could. "I would’ve been happy with more scenes. Honestly, I would’ve loved to do more if you'd asked."

Seungkwan’s eyes widened with dramatic flair as he whipped around to face Mingyu. "See? See? Your wife doesn’t mind. She’s a professional, unlike some people I know."

Mingyu shook his head, his lips quirking into a grin that didn’t quite hide his possessiveness. "Nope. Absolutely not. I’m the one who minds," he declared, his eyes darting to you like he was staking a claim. "My wife is pregnant, and she needs to rest. No long shoots, no late nights, no unnecessary stress."

You shot him a playful glare, pinching his side just hard enough to make him flinch. “My husband is a bit noisy, isn’t he?” you said, glancing at Seungkwan like you were seeking solidarity.

Seungkwan raised both hands in surrender, his smile wide with amusement. “Don’t look at me. I’m not about to go against Mr. Handsome Husband, World’s Best Protector.” He snickered, his eyes darting between you and Mingyu. "But if it were up to me, you’d be in every scene."

Mingyu pulled you close by the waist, his hand resting protectively on your lower back, his thumb rubbing soft, absentminded circles. He leaned in, his eyes filled with that familiar mix of pride and adoration he could never seem to hide.

“It’s not up to you, Seungkwan,” he muttered, his gaze never leaving you. “We’ll be taking our leave now, Director Boo. My wife needs to rest.”

His words were simple, but the affection in his tone made your cheeks warm. You glanced at him, your eyes softening, and this time, you didn’t fight him on it.

“Take care, Director,” you said with a small bow. Seungkwan waved you off with a knowing grin, watching the two of you walk away.

“Yeah, yeah, go be all in love or whatever,” he called out, unable to hide the affection in his teasing.

As you walked side by side with Mingyu, his hand firm and steady on your back, you glanced up at him with a small smile.

“Possessive much?” you teased quietly, nudging him with your elbow.

“Protective,” he corrected, glancing down at you with that look that always made your heart stumble. His eyes softened as they lingered on you, his voice quieter now. "I’m protecting what’s mine."

You rolled your eyes, but your fingers intertwined with his, and you squeezed his hand just a little tighter.

“Okay, Mr. Handsome Husband, World’s Best Protector,” you murmured, leaning your head against his arm as the two of you walked off into the evening light.

*

Seungkwan sat with the entire cast during the promotional interview for his highly anticipated movie. The host was lively and charismatic, effortlessly guiding the conversation while bringing out the natural chemistry between the cast. Laughter filled the room, and the atmosphere was warm and relaxed.

“Director Boo,” the host began with a playful grin, leaning forward with curiosity. “You mentioned that this movie was inspired by your friend’s story, right? Care to spill a little tea on that?”

Laughter erupted from the cast and audience. Seungkwan’s eyes widened, and he waved his hands frantically as if to push away the implication. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he quickly composed himself.

“Ah, I don’t want anyone to misunderstand,” Seungkwan said, half-laughing, half-sighing. “It’s not like that. I drew inspiration from a lot of places — life experiences, stories I’ve heard, observations. But,” he paused, his grin turning sly, “I’ll admit, my favorite actress, Ji Y/n, agreed to make a cameo, and we did use her name and her husband’s name for the characters.”

“Oho!” the host gasped, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Using your friend’s actual names? Sounds very intentional, Director Boo!”

More laughter followed, with some of the cast members playfully nudging Seungkwan as if to expose him further.

“Look, look, look,” Seungkwan chuckled, his hands raised in surrender. “It’s not like their relationship is exactly like the one in the movie. It’s totally the opposite, I promise!” His gaze flickered to the camera, as if directly addressing the viewers. “They’re an amazing couple, honestly. The kind of couple that makes you believe in love again.”

The host’s eyes narrowed with mock suspicion, leaning forward like he’d just uncovered a scandal. “So you’re telling me that you just so happened to name the characters after them and just so happened to cast her as a cameo?”

The audience howled with laughter, and Seungkwan pressed his palms together in a mock plea for mercy. “I’m innocent, I swear! I’m just a man trying to tell a good story!”

"Glad he didn’t mention that the 35 billion won contract was actually true," you muttered, eyes glued to the television as the interview played. Your three-month-old daughter, Sera, lay in your arms, breastfeeding peacefully. Her tiny fingers occasionally curled and uncurled against your skin.

Mingyu let out a long, exasperated sigh from beside you. "I should’ve read the script myself before signing that deal," he groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. "I didn’t think Seungkwan would actually bring up the contract."

"Why? Feeling a little exposed now?" you teased, shooting him a sly grin. "Starting to see what an asshole you were back then?"

His gasp was immediate, his eyes wide with faux horror. "Language, woman!" he said dramatically, reaching over to cover baby Sera’s tiny ears. "She can hear you, you know."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a soft laugh. Gently, you lifted Sera from your chest and placed her carefully in her crib. Her lips puckered in her sleep, and her little body shifted slightly before settling back into slumber. You watched her for a moment longer, letting that familiar warmth fill your chest.

With Sera safe and sound, you made your way back to Mingyu, plopping down beside him on the couch. Your head found a home against his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles.

“It’s true, though,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling as if reliving the memory. “Everyone thought I was gay, and somehow, my genius solution was to get a contractual girlfriend.” He shook his head at his younger self, clearly unimpressed.

"But you have to admit," you murmured, your voice low and teasing, "I was way too gorgeous to pass up, huh?"

Mingyu glanced down at you, his eyes softening with that look he reserved only for you. A slow, crooked smile spread across his face, and he let out a quiet chuckle, the deep rumble of it vibrating through his chest.

"You are," he said simply, his hand coming up to rest on top of yours. "The most gorgeous mistake I ever made… and the only one I’d make again."

His words were so sincere, so steady, that it made your heart squeeze in your chest. You tilted your head up, catching his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. It was one of those rare silences where everything was already understood.

"Smooth talker," you whispered, lips curling into a smile as you leaned up to kiss him softly.

"Only for you," he replied, his voice a little quieter now, his eyes still locked on you like you were the only person in the world.

And in moments like this — with your baby girl sleeping soundly nearby and the man who once made the worst mistake of his life now holding you like you were his greatest treasure — you believed it.

[riddles-n-games]

Friends Don't Kiss Like That

A/N: Hello friends! Here it is, the long awaited fake dating fic I've teased since March. I'm so sorry for the wait, this fic took too long to truly develop in my head and while I had fun, I'm mad I didn't get it out sooner. Enjoy!

“-and then?”

“And the-what do you think I did, Mystery Girl?” He eyed her smugly, the bastard, and tapped the side of his head. “Hmm? Use that smart brain of yours.” 

“...Jamie.” There was warning in her voice. Her patience would not be tested today; Xander’s experiment in robotics club already did that. But Jameson’s eyes were alight with mischief and there were the beginnings of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Then… I told her off.” 

Avery frowned at him, giving a look. The look; Alisa taught her well. It did the job and the younger Hawthornes were secretly afraid at how frighteningly accurate it was. As though it was Alisa herself. “No, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.” 

“...”

“Jameson! Seriously, tell me you didn’t.” She looked at him shocked, hand on his shoulder as he shook his head with an amused huff.  “Jamie, I’m being serious here!” She swatted at his chest. The boy was asking for it and trouble was the only call he always answered. Apart from hers, of course. And his brothers, too, but that was a given. 

He laughed. “Ok, ok, MG. I didn’t do it… or did I?” 

Avery stopped beside him, crossing her arms and sighing exasperatedly as she waited for his laughter to subside. A moment later, he stopped and looked at her, grinning cheekily. For some reason, her mouth went a bit dry. It was unfair how infuriatingly handsome he looked. Wait, where is this goi-

“Turvy, you okay? Aves?” Nicknames; his way of coaxing her out of her thoughts and in rarer cases, expressing his concern. She blinked out of her trance and smiled at him.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She watched as his semi-concerned expression morphed into a playful smirk again. Ever the chaotic chameleon.

“Hold on. Are you checking me out? After all this time, the moment has come. I finally meet the standards of Miss Not A Chance to get a look over. My day is made.” Rolling her eyes as he let out another lighthearted laugh, she put a hand on his arm and pulled. 

“Come on, let’s go. Let me walk you to your next class before you take another wrong turn to a stairwell that conveniently leads to the roof. Actually, you haven’t even gotten your textbook yet so let’s head to your locker first which just so happens to be on our way.”

But as she took a step, he tugged right back and twirled her into him. He leaned in close, whispering, “It’s okay, Heiress. I don’t mind. I know I’m good looking and that leaves some girls flustered.” It was in the silence that followed that she knew with certainty he had a shit-eating grin spreading slow and steady across his face, thinking himself so clever. Instead of rolling her eyes like she usually did, she shivered, feeling very affected for some reason. Her heart beat faster at the subconscious reaction. 

When he moved back, the sudden tension in the air broke and she could breathe again, taking a quick look around the hall. Thankfully, there weren’t that many students, just a few closing up their lockers and making their way to their next classes.  

She knew they were technically fake dating but their deal was still fairly recent and they hadn’t come out in public yet as a couple. Maybe she was used to his proximity since they were good friends but this was new. They displayed physical affection for each other, especially him as it was his love language, but this felt intimate and different. Avery wasn’t quite sure what to make of it and why the sudden effect he had on her. 

She shook her head and then looked at him, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “Nice try, Hawthorne, but that’s not happening.” 

He shrugged. “Worth a shot.” This time she did roll her eyes and pointed to his locker. “You, physics textbook, now.” He groaned dramatically before approaching his locker, looking back at her forlornly with a slight pout as he opened and slowly dragged out the wretched book. But his eyes caught her attention. Despite the funny expression, his eyes held that intensity when he was wholly focused on something, usually a puzzle and this time, her. Trying to shake off the feeling, she looked up in response to his theatrics as he proceeded to close the door. 

It was a bit overwhelming, this new focus he had on her, something she picked up on since he started spending more time with her than ever before. He seemed to have a constant need to distract himself from the anger and pain that Emily caused him but it didn’t feel purely based on that. There was a shift. She noted how intently he paid attention to her post break up and in the moments when he thought she wouldn’t see, she saw the little smiles or the way he would just watch her contently as they worked on homework. And she knew that something had changed but only a little while ago did she start feeling the effects of it herself. Although it scared her, she didn’t find herself shying away from it either.

Not wanting to dwell on it anymore, Avery took hold of his arm as soon as he secured the lock and tugged. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jameson frowned at her, “You’re no fun, you know that?” 

She turned to him and smiled mischievously. “I know, that’s why you keep me around. If you haven’t known by now, I’m your unofficial handler. I’m just not paid for it although Grayson and Nash probably thank me for doing so. You and Xander.” 

“Oof, now you’re just not being fair. That’s playing dirty, Aves.” She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

“I think they taught you a little too well,” he grumbled but Avery simply patted his hand and pulled him along. As they walked he started to mess with her a bit by pretending to struggle against her, pleading with her to go hang with him on the roof for a match of rooftop golfing. “I’ll even let you take the first two turns.” She snorted. They both knew she didn’t need a head start to beat him. When Avery Grambs had her mind set on something, the world was at her feet. 

This was them; jokes, teasing, nicknames with interesting back stories, light hearted jabs with meaning, comforting light touches, secret signals, deep talks late at night when no one would hear, solving puzzles and riddles no one else knew how to do, being so in tune with each other’s expressions… Avery loved it. It’s part of what kept her grounded in the past year. She drank in the moment, Jameson’s beaming face, her hands around his arm, the sound of her laughter. Yet she didn’t have enough time to revel in it because there was a storm coming their way.

A red hurricane was making her way down the hall towards them and Avery knew then, peace was lost. Jameson froze beside her at the sight.

Emily Laughlin; golden girl of Heights Country Day, darling of seemingly every gala in Texas, “the Hawthorne keeper”, and now, Jameson’s ex. In Avery’s mind, she was the Strawberry Menace that somehow managed to damper her mood every time she appeared. It was the equivalent of dropping one of Libby’s superior chocolate swirl cupcakes or finding the scone plate void of blueberry ones with only lemon-flavored leftovers in Xander’s wake. 

Avery had a motto in school; stay quiet and out of trouble but remain observant. Like anyone else, she knew the hierarchy set in secondary but after moving to Texas and enrolling at a private school, the differences between her old life and new one couldn’t have been more like day and night. The power dynamics of rich kids in a private school system were blown to new proportions as so many intricate details about one’s wealth, connections, and history seemed to play a role in status. This certainly had affected her introduction and integration but somehow she was still able to slip under the radar, at first.

And it was nice, taking back at least a piece of her old reality, and she relaxed, ready to be the quiet one in the corner again. In New Castle, she mostly kept to herself and never really liked drama which was why she tried to keep out of it. It wasn’t that she was shy but there just never seemed like anyone could be there for her in the way Max did, even with her halfway across the country. However, that wouldn’t be the case anymore, especially with the Hawthornes as regular company. 

They were all charming, witty, funny, adventurous, some more than others but none without their quirks. Yet, despite the wealth, their way of living, and larger than life characters, they all managed to work their way into her and Libby’s lives. And little by little they also managed to worm their way into Avery’s heart and they wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Although, there were downsides even to being friends with Hawthornes. Avery got along best with Xander and Jameson but that also meant where those two were, there was Emily and her posse. Until recently.

With Emily having been found out to be dating Jameson and his older brother Grayson at the same time with them both blissfully unaware, all hell had broken loose. The boys were affected badly; Gray had taken it the worst but Jameson was in a full blown fury. Out right he told her that he was breaking up with her and that if she were smart she would leave Grayson alone too. Avery had been very proud of him for that, taking up the mantle to protect him and his brother’s honor even though it was equally difficult for him. 

Of course, Emily did not take that message well and for the last two months she’d been trying to do whatever she could to make them come around. The audacity the girl had was astonishing and despite a tarnished reputation, she would still stoop so low; Avery may have despised her but marveled her tenacity. Sometimes she wished she had more of that herself. But Jameson had put his foot down and was holding it firmly in place which unfortunately meant that with every new attempt Emily became more unbearable. Like now.

As the Menace neared, Jameson hooked an arm around her and she felt him tracing two adjacent lines on her wrist then squeezing it. Over and over again. He was trying to tell her something. They started that a few months ago, before the breakup, as code for when there was a clue one of them found during Saturday games and didn’t want to alert the others to it. His brothers hadn’t caught onto that yet. As for this code, she knew the squeeze was reassurance as in “Don’t worry.” but the first part confused her. Was that an L, a V, or a check mar- Check mark; as in “All good.” He was telling her that he’s good and can handle it. 

Right as she finished that thought, he spoke up. “Hi Emily. What can we do for you today?” His tone was controlled, conversational, and his composure steady but Avery sensed the underlying unease. What he was really trying to say was, No, I can’t help you, leave me alone. And can you despawn from the map while you’re at it? 

“Jameson.” The Laughlin girl stopped a few meters from them, sounding hesitant and giving her best withered look. Avery would give her props for the effort but after being witness to this act more than a dozen times in the past two weeks, it was cumbersome. “Can we… talk?”

“Sure! The weather’s great today. Might take my new bike out for a spin on the track. Actually, the weather’s been treating us pretty well for the last while, right Aves?” 

She side-eyed him but nodded in agreement. “Yup.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed slightly at her but she kept her demeanor in place. “Actually, I was hoping we could do so in private?”

Jameson grinned wickedly. “No, we may not. But if you do have something worthwhile to say, you can say it in front of me and Avery.”

“I see… You’ve already moved on.” Her tone started to sound sour. “Yes, and we’re very happy, thank you very much. Is that all?” He’s having fun with this.

“I always thought you two were a little too close for my taste even when we were together. Guess I should’ve known this would happen eventually.” Playing the victim card… Nice.

“Well, yeah. We never made our friendship a secret. It was pretty out in the open from the start that we got off pretty well since she moved here. You know, the way we used to when we were friends, Em. Hmm? Remember that? But oh, that was before a certain nasty betrayal occurred on your part, might I add.” Now he was just taking it too far. Avery wondered if she would have to tame the flames soon but Jameson paid no heed as she subtly elbowed his side. Instead, he simply grabbed her arm and wove his fingers around hers. She tried not to show her surprise as her heart sped up again.

Emily growled, “I never meant for it to happen that way Jamie-” “Jameson.” “Right, Jameson. I was new to this and had feelings for both of you. Believe me, I was very conflicted about the whole thing so I-”

“So you just decided to date both of us in secret without the other knowing for six months while we poured out the best of us into farces of relationships and you stabbed us with a knife in the back in return for our goodness. Gotcha. Nice talk,” he nodded along while winking mockingly and Emily glared back. The tension was just getting worse and Avery sensed her time was coming. 

“No, I’m sorry that happened. It shouldn’t have happened that way at all. But it did, I recognize that was very wrong of me but I really was trying to settle on one of you; it’s just you’re both so great and I was lucky to have even just one of you paying attention to me.” Cue the tears, roll the credits; Avery was rolling her eyes internally. 

“I’m gonna call cut. A word of critique; bull. Shit. You are one of the most attractive girls in school, you know this, so don’t pull that with me. Second of all, didn’t you hear, love triangles especially with brothers aren’t in style anymore. Not since Damon and Stefan on Vampire Diaries. And much less cheaters at that. But you just find yourself the exception as you always do, don’t you Emily?”

She scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. You were basically emotionally cheating on me with her. Don’t try to deny it. I saw it; the talks, the inside jokes, the fact she was invited to elusive Saturday games much sooner than I ever was, how she was always on your team, and your weird handshakes. You were so touchy feely with her.”

Jameson quirked an eyebrow. “You know, for someone who claims that she’s all-seeing, clearly you’re blind. I kept a very respectful distance with Avery throughout our relationship and only did those handshakes when we were in public after accomplishing an assignment or a puzzle. We teamed up a lot because you almost always wanted to be with Gray despite my protests. Oftentimes we also didn’t share the same time slots for classes although I wanted to be with you and because sometimes Avery was, I wanted to help her integrate. It was something that my grandfather and Nash asked me and Xan to do. Our talks-” he sighed. “Look, I can go on but you would just turn that on me when you’re the one at fault here. End of story.”

“Oh, so you're her mouthpiece now? Miss Quiet As A Mouse can’t speak for herself; cat got your tongue?” That last remark was directed at her. Jameson wanted to protest but she put a hand on his chest. She could handle it.

While Avery avoided Emily like the plague and did her best to be polite when she had no choice but to interact with her, she did not tolerate mean girls. She had a voice and she wasn’t about to let a discounted rip off Regina George ruin her day by having her run her mouth. Plus, she’s being a disgrace to the real one. Yes, Max made her watch some cult classics back in seventh grade and it was one of the films she actually enjoyed but she would never tell her that. 

“What Jameson just said is all true. Plus, I was getting the signals from you. Don’t think for a second that I missed a single of your dirty looks when we hung out in a group. I knew you considered them yours. But last I checked, I often declined his company and was more so with your sister, Xander, and still I preferred my sister most to all of you. I’m not one to stray from my zone that often and it was because of Mr. Hawthorne that the boys got so involved with me. You were just an unfortunate addition that couldn’t find harmony because of your jealousy. Rest assured, I wasn’t ever after your crown but I did care about them as a concerned friend.” There. That was her piece in the matter. 

Emily laughed brokenly, letting her very fake tears stream down her fair cheeks as she swiped at them in a manner of attempting to regain composure. It was laughable. “If you think like that Av-ery, then you’re the biggest convincing liar I’ve ever seen. You-”

“Choose your next words carefully. Because next time there won’t be any talking or pleasantries of any sort; we’ll walk right on by. And if I hear you’re harassing Avery, consider yourself on the receiving end of a restraining order.” Jameson’s words resounded in the hall as everyone around them was intently listening to the argument. Emily was always one for a show and while Jameson wasn’t one to care, he was aware that Avery was. It felt debilitating as she felt eyes on her but she tried not to pay attention as she was sort of privy to this already at major events when she was photographed with Xander at comps or charities as a special guest of the Hawthorne family.  Yet school felt like a different story because of how life worked with teenagers where everything was under even more scrutiny. 

“Fine!” she spat. “Just know I loved you but she most certainly doesn’t. She will never appreciate you the way I did and trust me that this is gonna be a short-lived relationship so when she leaves you high and dry, don’t come crawling back to me. All she’s gonna prove to be is a giant fake that wants you for your money; a filthy gold digger from dirt poor New Castle. A nobody! She and her sister!”  

Avery didn’t bat an eye. Although she felt anger flaring inside her at the jab at Libby, the most she did was send Emily a concentrated stare that dared her to say it again. However, it was her best friend that took that most to heart in the moment.

He wasn’t having it. His facial features were strained; mouth pursed in a grim line and long gone was the cool façade he kept up for the sake of fake pleasantry. She saw the telltale signs of irritation; clenched jaw, left eyebrow twitching ever so slightly, eyes glazed over with a steely edge and he was biting at his lips. His hands were balled into fists and his body was as taut as a bowstring, ready to strike out. He’s pissed. Avery couldn’t tell if the situation would escalate to the point it ended in a fight, if he was going to blow a fuse or just walk away. 

She’d be surprised if he didn’t put up some more arguing, though, as of late, there were quite a few instances where he simply left the scene. Maturity maybe, but this is still Jameson we’re talking about. 

And yet, what he did instead was something she never saw coming. He turned her way but before she could ask what was wrong or register what was happening, his lips were firmly against hers. He simply dove down and kissed her. Just like that. No words, no signal, no nothing. All she got was a moment to see his determined gaze turning on her, no prior warning, and then he was kissing the breath out of  her. 

Avery froze; her brain was shutting down and she didn’t know how to move her limbs. Jameson, thankfully, wasn’t phased and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her body was still on autopilot but she knew her feet were shuffling forward and while it took a moment longer, she finally managed to react. 

Her hands found their way to his chest, grasping at the lapels of his blazer. She felt fuzzy, he was warm and solid against her and his cologne smelled nice and he was so good at this and… For what felt like a small eternity, he kissed her and she was started to relax. But as Avery was about to reciprocate, he pulled away just as quickly. Opening her eyes right after was a mistake because she was blindsided by the disorientated feeling overwhelming her. Is this the infamous Cloud 9? 

She was still clutching at the blazer, her grip having gone lax, and her other arm fell slack by her side. The only reason she realized she was still holding onto him was because he’d wrapped his hand around hers, squeezing it to give her reassurance but even that was over fast.  

“Come on, Avery.” When he said her name, the world came rushing in and subsequently, she became aware of everyone else, including Emily herself, gawking at them. Suddenly, she wasn’t so disoriented. Although she was still trying to recover from that surprise kiss, her mind was catching up and the underlying sense of embarrassment and horror were coming back in full force. If her cheeks weren’t flushed before, they were now as she was unable to look away from everyone surrounding her. But Jameson decided they weren’t sticking around. 

He grabbed her hand and tugged lightly, pulling her after him. She allowed herself a second more to linger on their audience before turning forward, focusing her eyes on the back of Jamie’s head. In her semi-dazed state, it was probably the better decision in favor of her standing there frozen with her mouth open and eyes widened like a confused fish. 

As Jameson dragged her away from the scene, away from Emily, the onlookers and the uncomfortable intensity of their stares that seemed to follow them down the hall, only then did reality wake her to the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. They were just friends… weren’t they? 

She was just being a good friend helping him out by agreeing to fake date him to get his ex-girlfriend off his back because she had simultaneously dated him and his brother and kept both their relationships a secret, right?

If so, then why did he have to go and kiss her like that? They’d agree to kissing, yes, but friends didn’t kiss that way. It felt more passionate than necessary, like there was something deeper he was trying to convey than just his frustration and fury. Admittedly, she did like the kiss just a little more than she expec-Wait, she wasn’t getting a crush on her friend, was she? 

Oh no. This wasn’t in the rules.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I will be announcing my next fic(s) for release very soon. Reminder, all my fics are also on AO3 for you to read if you prefer that platform under the pseudonym ThePuzzledWriter. Bye!

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 9-It Ain't Over

Summary: Easy is tasked to dismantle German outposts across the river and were to return with prisoners for interrogation. The mission is successful but not without another loss. When the Colonel tried to send the men back in, Winters unconventionally goes against the grain, allowing the men a night of rest instead of risking more unnecessary deaths.

A/N: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFem!Medic, Post Bastogne, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Aggression, Angst, Confrontation, Military Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, A League of Their Own Movie References, Mentions of Weaponry, Yiddish/German language with English translation, Smoking, Crying, Banter, Pining, FOREVER FLUFF

German is identified with (g)

Yiddish is identified with (y)

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

February 1945/Night of POW Mission

American side of the river

Liebgott sits behind his M1919 Browning machine gun with his assistant gunner on a bombed-out landing at battalion headquarters right off the water, watching the rest of the platoon load into the boats on the riverbank. You sneak past the AG and sit next to Joe.

"Gams?? What the fuck are ya doin'?" he chided at you.

You roll your eyes, "Just checking on you two and seeing where the guys are." you respond quietly.

"Yeah, well, they ain't even crossed yet so get back downstairs, will ya? I don't want you out here if shit starts poppin' off." he scolded.

You sigh, "Fine, Joe, I just wanted to see you before anything happened, that's all."

You turned to leave but then hesitated. You looked over your shoulder at him with his back towards you. You return to him swiftly, grab his chin and plant a hasty peck on his cheek.

"Ich liebe dich, Joe Liebgott (g)(I love you, Joe Liebgott)." you say in a quick hush before you scamper off inside.

Joe grunted at you not knowing whether to be irritated or entertained,

"Du verdammte Füchsin (g)(You goddamn vixen)." he called after you before you could reach the stairs.

Basement of Battalion HQ

You and Doc sit together in the cellar of HQ, waiting and listening intensely for any gunfire exchange outside. Minutes feel like hours sitting there, as you sip on a tin cup of coffee.

Your leg is bouncing from anxiety, waiting for something to happen. Eugene reached across to you and grabbed your knee to stop your leg from jumping. You look up at him startled.

"You're too jittery. Lay off the coffee, Y/F/N." he said in his low soothing Cajun accent with a gentle smile.

You nod then smile back, placing your cup on the table next to you.

~~~~~~~

German side of the river

The patrol crosses the river in the inflatable boats. When they reach land, they strategically approach the building where German soldiers are posted. As Easy makes entry, Jackson rushes into the building too soon after throwing a grenade and is severely wounded.

The rest of the guys then rush the building and captured three Germans. As they retreat with their prisoners, the remaining German forces open fire. One of the prisoners is hit and is left behind on the riverbank.

American side of the river

Joe sees his platoon scattering towards the boats as smoke and gunfire erupt from the German side. He shifts his line of fire, anxiously waiting to pull the trigger.

"Jesus Christ, come on. Blow the goddamn whistle!" he yelled.

The sound of the whistle finally reaches Joe's ears. He lays heavy suppressive fire at the windows where he sees flashes from German MG-42s. He peppers the buildings back and forth, in hopes he's nailing each one dead center of their foreheads.

Basement of HQ

You and Doc hear an eruption of gunfire and shells dropping through the garden windows of the basement. You stand next to the little window listening hard for the yells and screams from your boys. Just then, you suddenly hear the faint call from the riverbank on the American side...

"WHERE'S THE MEDIC!?!?"

Alarmed, you look back at Eugene with wide, panicked eyes.

"No, Y/L/N." Doc said sternly.

He knew damn well what you were thinking, and he wasn't going to allow it. Not again.

You began to protest, "But they-"

"Y/F/N, NO!" he barked, "I'm not lettin' you run to danger again. Remember what happened in Ardennes?" He reminded you angrily.

You look down shamefully at your boots. Suddenly the basement door abruptly swung open as the platoon started scrambling in.

"Wounded! We got wounded, come on!" Ramirez bellowed.

You swept papers and utensils off the nearest table to clear it for Jackson who was being carried in.

"Set him right here!" you call out.

Johnny Martin entered, "Get the Krauts back there, shake them down! Move! Move! McClung! Get on over to CP, let them know what we got!" he ordered.

Jackson lying flat on the table, his face bloody and raw from the neck up, began gagging on his own blood.

"Jesus, what the hell happened to him over there?!" you ask overwhelmed by the soldier’s appearance.

"Grenade went off right in front of him." Ramirez reported.

"Shit, his lungs are probably hemorrhaging. He can't breathe right." you confirm aloud.

Doc gently pushed you aside and lowered his ear to Jackson's mouth.

"Light. I need some light. Give me some light." Doc requested urgently.

Grant took his lighter and flipped it on. Doc held Jackson's mouth open by the chin, observing and listening for a few seconds as the poor soldier gurgled and whimpered.

"All right, look at the flame. Look at the flame. Ok, that's good." Doc instructed Jackson.

The room became eerily quiet as they all watched Doc work.

"All right, let's get him outta here." Doc directed.

"I don't wanna die!" Jackson cried out.

He repeated these words tearfully over and over again as the platoon started to move him towards the door on a litter. Jackson started to grab at Doc, kicking off the surface as his choking worsened. The men set him down.

"He's gonna die!" one of the guys shrilled in horror.

"Hey, shut the hell up! You're upsetting him more!" You hiss over the sea of bellowing soldiers, while Jackson started to flail and kick in terror.

"Please help me, I don't wanna die!" He wallowed.

Doc tried to hold him steady on the stretcher, "Jackson, you're not gonna die! I need you to hang on!"

Jackson continued to bawl and throw an agonizing fit out of fear until the life drifted from his tearing eyes and his body fell limp. Doc sat up, dropping his helmet to his side with a huff of defeat leaving his mouth. He sat there, lost in his thoughts then looked up at you with frustration painted all over his face.

You look around the room at rest of the guys until you see Martin. You shake your head, confirming he didn't make it. You take Babe's wool blanket he wrapped himself with and covered Jackson.

~~~~~~~

The following morning, the platoon hung out in the barracks, resting up after a long night. Webster entered the room with LT Jones.

"Jackson is dead." Webster announced.

"Yeah, we heard." Joe replied from his bunk sitting above you.

"Yeah, well, they want another patrol tonight." Perconte added.

Joe shifted onto the mattress and laid against the pillow. You stood up angrily and walked out the room, down the stairs, and out the door to head to the basement back at HQ to be alone.

With most of Easy at HQ later that day, Winters, Nixon and Speirs address the same patrol from the night before to discuss the next mission for that evening. You're in attendance once again, across the room where you can see Joe as you stood next to Eugene.

Winters opened the brief by stating how proud he was of the good work the platoon did last night then added that Col Sink was proud as well.

"-In fact, he's so proud he wants you to do another patrol across the river tonight."

The men remain resentfully silent. Joe lights a cigarette then shoots you an unamused glance as Winters continued.

"Any moment now, the outpost we hit last night will go up in flames. Means we have to venture farther into town this time. Captain Speirs, you have the map, please."

Speirs passes the map to Grant to display across the table.

"We have enemy movement here and here," Winters began as he pointed on the paper, "Which means this is our new house target here. We recovered all the boats. So, we'll be setting off from the same place we did last night."

"We're not changing the plan any, sir?" Martin spoke up.

"No. The plan is the same. It will be 0200 hours instead of 0100. Is that clear?" Winters asked.

The men shifted in discomfort, "Yes sir." they acknowledged collectively.

"Good, because I want you all to get a full night's sleep tonight. Which means in the morning, you will report to me that you made it across that river into German lines but were unable to secure any live prisoners-" he instructed as he looked around the room to see if the platoon was tracking what he was saying.

Everyone looked at him in disbelief. The man was really ordering you to disobey Col Sink’s orders.

"Understand?" he pushed cautiously as he scanned the room making eye contact with each of his men.

"Yes, sir." The men replied in unison. (Some of their responses sounding like a question, unsure this was actually happening).

"Good. Look sharp for tomorrow. We're moving off the line." Winters finalized as he left the room.

The guys all breathed their first sigh of relief since Holland. A few exchanged handshakes. Joe stood up from the table to rush over to you.

"Did you just fucking hear that, Gams!?" His smile stretching from ear to ear revealing your favorite dimple on his left cheek.

You beam at him, "I did. He's a good man."

You wrap your arms around the back of Joe's neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He pressed you against him, burying his face into your neck. A couple of happy tears stream down your face.

"Can we just hold each other for the rest of our lives?" you utter softly in Joe's ear.

Joe chuckled, "That's my plan."

~~~~~~~

As the sun set that evening, Cobb distributed bottles of liquor he found in the cellar at HQ. Each man happily accepted the offer, taking hearty swigs from the bottles.

Luz hacked, pounding on his chest to soften the sting of what he just swallowed.

"Shit! *cough* What the hell is this Cobb?? Jesus Christ!" Luz choked.

"What's wrong, George? A little too strong for ya?" Cobb teased.

"This stuff will knock ya on your ass." Malarkey confirmed as he took another drink.

You walk into the room, and the entire platoon cheered. You stop in your tracks, almost alarmed by their response to you entering the room.

"What are you miscreants doing now?" you ask looking around the room at them.

"Nothin' we're just happy to see our songbird!" Babe yelled across the room.

"Hey, Y/F/N, sing us a little somethin' yeah??" Luz pleaded.

"No, George, I'm not-" you contested before all the men groaned and boo-ed expressing their disappointment.

"-I'm tired, guys! It's been a rough few days for all of us." you defended.

"Hey, Joe, come on. Get her to sing!" Babe resorted.

Liebgott hopped off the top bunk and approached you with his bottle. You deliver a look of skepticism to him as he closed in on you. He raised his eyebrow as he smiled mischievously at you.

"No, Joe." Is all you say.

"Gams, the boys just want you to sing a little lullaby so they can get a good night's sleep like the captain said." Joe justified.

"Winters never said anything about me singing you to sleep." you pointed out.

"True," Joe started, "but Webster didn't get to hear ya yet, and l’ve been tellin’ him how sweet my girl’s voice is. I wanna show you off."

You shake your head at him, "You're unbelievable."

"I know." Joe replied confidently.

You look around the room at all the expectant drunk faces of your boys.

"One song so you can sleep. Just one." you compromise.

"Don't get on a chair this time!" Luz called out.

You glare at him, then smile.

"Get comfortable you idiots." you say as you dim the lamps to set the mood.

"What are you gonna sing, Gams?" Joe whispered in your ear over your shoulder as he snaked his arms around your waist from behind.

"A piece from Laurel and Hardy's The Bohemian Girl. Thelma Todd was always one of my favorites.”

Joe hummed as he pecked your cheek. You smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Hm, ir hot aoykh a bisl shlogn di flash, tsi nit? (y)(Hm, you’ve been hitting the bottle a little, too, haven’t ya)?” You ask Joe, smiling at him skeptically.

Joe only grinned, his face glowing and his eyes droopy, sauced from drink, exhausted by the mission, and completely entranced by you.

“Ok, settle down, boys." you project through the room.

"Hey, Liebgott ain't in bed." Perconte protested.

You guide Joe to your bed and have him sit. You stand in the middle of the room so everyone can hear. Every pair of eyes and ears focus on you, waiting patiently for you to begin.

🎶 “I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,

With vassals and serfs at my side,

And of all who assembled within those walls,

That I was the hope and the pride.” 🎶

You serenade to your platoon, watching their heads lull and their eyes flutter. You make a round around the room to each soldier, touching a shoulder here or patting another on the head over there, making a personal connection to each one to bring a sense of comfort amongst them as you near the end of the song.

🎶 “And I dreamt that one of that noble host

Came forth my hand to claim.

But I also dreamt, which charmed me most,

That you lov'd me still the same...”🎶

You come back to Joe who is laying across your mattress zeroed in on you with adoration behind his eyes. He beamed up at you from your pillow when you start combing your fingers through his hair as you finish your song just for him.

🎶”That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same

That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still-“🎶

You seat yourself on the side of your bed next to him.

🎶”-the same.“🎶

The room is quiet, with the gentle snores and breathes of the guys sound asleep in their bunks. Joe took your free hand and started to pull you towards him as he sat up to meet you half way for a kiss-

“That was incredible, Y/L/N.” You hear Webster compliment from the bunk across from Liebgott’s.

You look over at him and smile, “Thanks, Web. Get some sleep, buddy.”

“Yeah, can’t you see we’re busy over here?” Joe sneered.

Webster chuckled and turned towards the wall to make his back face you.

You look back to Joe, whose face was a hair away from yours.

“That wasn’t very nice.” You giggled.

Joe nudged his nose against yours, “Any second I can get with my girl is precious, I don’t want to waste it.” He purred.

You lean forward, kissing his lips softly. Joe’s faultless ability to lock onto your lips as he tilts his head to deepen his kiss always left you craving for more. You try to pull back but he holds you in place so you don’t go too far.

“We should sleep, too, Joe.”

A devilish smirk appeared across his face, “One of these days, Gams-“ he started without finishing.

You smile coyly and laugh, “I don’t mean to get you riled up. But we’re not getting away with anything in a room full of people.”

Joe shook his head and sighed, “Komm her, du Füchsin (g)(Get over here, you vixen)."

You scoot onto the bed laying across his chest as he enveloped you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head as you nuzzle into him.

"Liebe dich sehr (g)(Love you so much)." Joe uttered to you.

"Liebe dich mehr (g)(Love you more)." you whisper back, squeezing him.

~~~~~~~

@wordsaresimple-imnot @mrs-greenside @skiesofrosie 🪖♠️🦅

[svltzmans]

so hot you're hurting my feelings - h.m.

a/n: this was a request from a lovely anon :) i had a lot of fun writing it so i hope you all love it! i'm still pretty new to writing explicit content so bear with me!! (i'm also obsessed with naming my fics after songs, this one is by caroline polachek and i feel like it fits the bill)

pairing: hope mikaelson x fem!heretic! reader

warnings: smut (18+), dirty talk, lots of praise including use of "good girl"

"how the fuck did you do that?," y/n asks, exasperated. her girlfriend, hope, had just performed the most intricate spell she had ever seen.

"here, i'll teach you," hope responds, going through the spell again, step by step, explaining thoroughly to y/n.

"you're so cute when you get into explaining something, but i'm still so confused."

"come on, you're a tough girl. i'll go through it again. you do it with me this time."

so hope performed the spell again, slowly so y/n could follow suit.

the first few times y/n attempted the spell, she just couldn't get it quite right.

it was frustrating, sure, but hope was right. y/n was tough. she wasn't one to show much emotion outwardly.

but hope could read her well. they hadn't been dating long, but hope had put effort into learning her girlfriend's mannerisms.

"hey, it's okay. you're doing so good."

y/n can't help the warmth that starts in her stomach and only moves downwards at hope's words. hope's naturally sensual voice never helps.

"let's try one more time. ready?"

and they do. hope leads the way, performing the spell slowly at first but gaining speed at the final steps. y/n continues mirroring hope's actions, and it's clear that she's gotten the hang of it.

"lecutio," they both chant, as sparks generate in both of their hands.

"look at you go, y/n! i'm so proud of you. you did such a good job," hope praises, taking y/n's hand in her own.

the feeling in y/n's body returns stronger this time, and she can't help the furious blush that comes across her face. she finds herself hoping that her girlfriend couldn't tell how her words were affecting her.

y/n's favorite part of her week was the "history of magic" class she shared with hope. the pair would always sit side by side, both dilligently taking notes on the course content while also slyly exchanging looks of admiration once in a while.

"does anyone remember the year "icaeus" became officially recognized as a spell?," the instructor speaks, scanning the room for willing students prepared to answer his question.

y/n raises her hand, much to hope's enjoyment. she admires her girlfriend's academic confidence, especially because many people see her as guarded and overly intimidating.

"around 3000 B.C.," y/n answers, not even referencing her notes.

"that's correct, y/n. someone's been paying attention," the instructor says through a smile.

hope leans closer to y/n until she's just inches away from her face. "damn, my girlfriend is smart. great job, beautiful," she says, smiling mischievously.

y/n has to physically stifle a sinful noise, although she manages to play it off with a playful eyeroll directed at hope. confident that hope didn't notice her initial reaction, she continues listening to the lecture of the day.

a wickery match was in full swing, an even mix of witches, werewolves, and vampires all happily participating, including hope and y/n.

not only is y/n tough, but she is also quite strong. nobody else in the game could throw the ball quite as far as she could.

after being passed the ball by kaleb, y/n realized she only had one possible move; throw it all the way across the field to a completely unguarded mg.

she knows it's not going to be easy, but doesn't hesitate to use every muscle in her arm to get it as far as she can.

to everyone's shock, the ball reaches mg seemingly effortlessly.

"holy shit! y/l/n, that was amazing!," lizzie shouts, her enthusiasm for the game obvious.

embracing the attention, y/n graciously recieves high-fives from the fellow players.

hope wraps her arms around her from behind, squeezing her girlfriend in an affectionate hug.

"you did so good today, y/n. i'm so proud of you."

this time, y/n whines. she hopes its quiet enough that hope doesn't hear it, but with her werewolf hearing, she's sure she must have.

y/n lays in her bed, several pages deep in a new novel when she hears a knock at her door.

"come in!," she shouts, almost certain she won't be surprised by who is standing in the doorway.

"hey honey, whatcha reading?"

it's hope, closing the door behind her and plopping into bed alongside her girlfriend.

"just this new fantasy novel. you know, like castles and shit."

"sounds like fun, but i think i'm more interesting."

nodding in agreement, y/n puts a bookmark in her novel and puts it on her nightstand. she lays next to hope, gently putting her head on her chest.

"can i ask you a question?," hope speaks after a few seconds of silence.

"anything," y/n responds.

"is there anything i say that... you know, has a particular effect on you?"

"effect on me?"

"yeah, you know ... something i do that.. you like?"

"i don't know what you're talking about."

y/n is lying through her teeth, and they both know it.

"i just happened to notice, you know, a pattern of behavior."

"what kind of behavior?"

"just, you know, some blushing. extra blushing. maybe even some interesting noises."

"fuck, you heard that?"

"oh, so you do know what i'm talking about."

"no!"

hope knew y/n wouldn't stop denying her desire for praise, and she knew exactly how to force the truth out of her.

"here, let me try something," hope says, looking y/n directly in the eyes.

"okay?" y/n looks directly back, although she is confused by hope's response.

"you are such a good girl, y/n," hope slurs, her voice sultry.

before hope can even register what is happening, y/n's lips are on hers, passionately moving against them.

"so i guess i was right then, huh?," hope teases when the pair finally separates to breathe.

"shut up, mikaelson."

"lay down," hope responds, y/n happy to oblige.

"such a good girl you are, listening to me," hope teases, running her finger down y/n's still clothed torso.

"jesus hope, just take my clothes off already," y/n responds, growing impatient.

and hope does, stripping y/n naked in what feels like a matter of seconds.

"so beautiful, baby," hope coos, before pulling herself on top of y/n, straddling her.

hope's hands start to gently wander, grabbing hold of y/n anywhere she could.

"hope, please just touch me."

"i am touching you."

"you know what i mean."

"i really don't," hope continues to tease. "if you want something, you're gonna have to tell me, otherwise i'll just never know..."

"please just put your fingers inside me," y/n interrupts, her skin growing hot with desperation.

"ah, that's my good girl," hope responds, only adding to the pooling between y/n's legs.

hope lays between y/n's legs, admiring her naked form.

running a finger over y/n's inner thigh, hope studies the way her body responds, with gentle twitches and heavy breathing.

finally, hope gently pushes two fingers into y/n, still focusing on the way she responds.

y/n can't help but let out an obscene moan, finally receiving the feeling she'd been craving for so long.

hope adjusts to a steady pace, curling her fingers each time they're fully inside y/n's aching core.

"such a good girl, taking my fingers like this," hope praises, her voice raspy.

"fuck, hope. f-feels so good," y/n manages to respond, feeling the pleasure build in her stomach.

hope uses her thumb to rub tight circles on y/n's clit, enjoying the way her whines and moans only get louder.

she feels y/n start to squeeze around her fingers, knowing she's close.

"gonna cum for me, aren't you? so good baby," she coos, encouraging y/n to let go.

"god, hope...," y/n almost screams, giving up on holding back as her orgasm crashes over her in multiple waves.

hope talks her through her orgasm with gentle whispers of "that's it, beautiful. you did such a good job for me."

when y/n finally comes down from her high and catches her breath, hope pulls her back onto her chest to relax.

"so, a praise kink, huh?," hope jests, earning a gentle push from y/n.

a/n: it's 7am as i'm posting this 😭 it's already horny on this blog this early

(also why is the formatting on this so weird like some of it is double spaced and some not? how do i fix this help)

[jq37]

Ok, I was expecting an Aabria side-quest, but Misfits and Magic season 2 was not on my Bingo Card and I love being surprised. And it's a different setting, so something as...memorable as The Bear will not match the tone so we're safe from that for another season. It's gonna be awhile before I can trust Aabria's imagination again.

For a hot second I thought you were talking about Emmy Award Winning Series "The Bear" and not Most Horrifying Battle Map Ever "The Bear" and I was very confused about whether Aabria had pitched some kind of "The Bear but with magic" sidequest that I wasn't online enough to have run across lmao.

(Was totally down to watch her GM that though for the record)

But yeah, exciting! And did you see that the system they're using is a homebrew back like NSBU--Never Stop Making Magic! God, I am so pumped to see the chaos of that in this setting.

I will say though, even though it doesn't look Burrow's End gnarly, it does look darker in tone than the first season--which would be in line with long running MG/YA series like HP or Percy Jackson. And we all know how Aabria likes to innovate in the dome so we'll see what she comes up with.

Anyway, I pumped to have this to look forward to as we roll into Fall!