#that man was WELL AWARE that that was going to happen

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: III | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 7,460

—  warnings: mention of death, murder, and abortion, crying, kind of heartbreak, nervousness, a tiny growing sexual tension, and some teasing  

—  author’s note: sssooo this chapter finally explains a bit more about the werewolf universe, and i hope it’s a bit clearer for you. a lot more explanations will come throughout the series as i can’t reveal it all in one chapter. the next chapter is actually my favourite and i definelty can’t wait to post it 😊 hope you’ll enjoy this one & let me know what you think <3  

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Chapter III: untold truth

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook spent the rest of the night thinking about you. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He couldn’t believe that you’re a werewolf.

Obviously, you’re not aware of it otherwise you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did when he revealed the existence of the werewolf word. Normally, you should have recognized him since he’s the king, but you didn’t. So, he strongly believes that you were adopted. That’s the only reason that could explain why you aren’t aware.  

Now, he needs to understand why you were adopted. A pack never gives up on their little ones. He can think of many reasons why, but he needs to figure out what happened to you. He doesn’t want to simply reveal your true nature without having any certainty.

However, what concerns him is the fact that you haven’t turned yet. Normally, around fourteen years old, under a full moon, you should have experienced your first transformation. Maybe the fact that you ignore everything about that has caused your wolf blood to be dormant.

The next morning, he started looking into every record he has access to about the Shadows. The blue eyes are a characteristic specific to the Shadow pack. Every pack has its own eye color; it’s the way to distinguish every wolf. Jungkook’s pack, the Bloods, has red eyes. However, his eyes have a darker red shade. This is a trait specific to the king; he inherits it the second he goes from heir to king.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung, his best friend makes his way inside his office.

The man looks up at his best friend before a bright smile appears on his face. It’s been a little while since they last saw each other. Taehyung has been traveling a lot lately; he said he wants to discover the world before settling with his mate. However, it looks like he doesn’t want to settle down at all.

“Hey, Tae,” he stands up to greet his best friend. “What are you doing here? I thought you were lost somewhere in France.”

“Well, I needed to come back,” he replies with a smile. “Couldn’t stay forever in France.”  

Both men start talking about what has been happening for the last month. Jungkook doesn’t go too much into detail. He only mentions he contacted a fertility clinic, and that he’s right now concerned about something happening in the Shadow pack.

Taehyung, on his side, tells his friend about all the places he went to. He was in Europe, discovering a lot of different countries. He definitely adored going around and discovering new cultures, new food, and meeting new people. For sure, his favorite place was Paris.

“Do you need any help with those Shadows research?” Taehyung asks casually although his sharp gaze indicates that he already knows the answer.

Jungkook nods, his shoulders visibly tense. He’s never been one to ask for help, but this time he definitely would need some.

“I wouldn’t refuse it,” he answers to his most trusted friend.

Taehyung crosses his arms, leaning against Jungkook’s wooden bookcase.

“What exactly are you looking for?” he frowns while grabbing a book.  

“I don’t really know,” Jungkook says. “A record, a mention, a trace of a couple that died or disappeared,” he explains.

Taehyung looks up at his friend before looking down at the book again. By pure coincidence, the book he’s holding is an old one about the different werewolf packs. It’s one of the first books he read; it details the characteristics of each pack.

“A couple who died or disappeared?” he repeats his friend’s words. “Is this by any chance related to a girl?”

Jungkook freezes for a split second, but it’s enough for Taehyung to catch. He’s been very observant, especially when it comes to Jungkook.

“No,” he lies, his voice steady and firm.

Taehyung isn’t convinced; his eyes narrow as he studies his friend. He knows Jungkook better than anyone else, and while he’s very good at hiding his emotions, there’s something in his posture, something in the way he’s looking at Taehyung, that betrays him.

 “You’re unreadable when you want it, you know that?” Taehyung finally says, walking closer to his friend who is standing behind his desk. “But something tells me this isn’t just about finding old records. If you’re diving into the Shadows' history, there’s a good reason behind it. You don’t waste your time on anything without a reason.”

Jungkook sights while running a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated, Tae.”

“You know I’m here, right? Whatever this is, whatever you’re digging into, you don’t have to do it alone.”  

The werewolf king would love to tell him everything, but he doesn’t want to involve anyone at this stage. First, he needs to make sure you’re a werewolf, and only then, he’ll reveal it.

“I know, Tae. I just need to be sure before I tell you anything,” his voice lowers. “Before I tell anyone anything.”

Taehyung nods, understanding that his best friend will share when he’s ready.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll start digging into the Shadow Pack archives. See if I can find anything about missing couples and unexplained disappearances.”

Taehyung’s aunt is married to a Shadow alpha so it will definitely help. As a king, he for sure has access to a lot of records, but not everything. Each pack has its own secrets, and that’s the beauty of it. If Jungkook knew everything, his job would be boring. There’s always something new to unveil. Like your past.

Taehyung disappears a little while after, leaving Jungkook alone with his eyes fixed on the flames in the fireplace. The shadows dance across the stone walls, but his mind is somewhere else, on you, and on the fragile heartbeat growing inside you. He can still hear it perfectly.

He runs a hand down his face before letting out a deep breath. This was never supposed to go down like that. This mistake was never supposed to happen. But the raw and undeniable truth has already sunk its claws into him.  

How can he turn away from this? From you? From the baby?

He remembers the flicker of blue in your eyes. It’s been replaying constantly on his mind, but what is deeply engraved in him is this connection with you. He constantly feels your presence around him, something he’s never felt with anyone else.  

Even though he’s been deeply sorry to have brought you to his world, this flicker of blue made him realize that he brought you to your world. A world you didn’t know existed until he revealed it. His duty has been telling him to stay away, but he can’t.

The thought creeps in quietly, yet with unshakable certainty: This was never a mistake.  

The world may call it an accident, but Jungkook can feel something deeper, something ancient, something undeniable. Fate, destiny… whatever name it might have, it brought the two of you here. Together.

Every choice and every moment has led to this point. To you.

Now, standing quietly in his study, he feels the truth settling deep in his bones. This child growing inside you was always meant to happen. Jungkook leans against the edge of his desk.

“I can’t abandon this child, my child,” he whispers to himself. “I can’t abandon yn.”

It isn’t about duty anymore. It’s about you. It’s about the fragile life caught between two worlds, and the bond he can already feel forming. Whether he’s ready to admit it or not. Jungkook straightens up, shoulders squared, and jaw tight. The king in him knows what needs to be done, but the man knows what he wants to do.

“I’m staying,” he runs his hand over his hair.

This isn’t just a choice. It’s the acceptance of what was always meant to be. Whatever challenges await, Jungkook knows one thing with absolute certainty: This was always supposed to happen.

For the past five days, Jungkook and Taehyung have been trying to find anything about missing couples and mysterious disappearances, but it’s been in vain. There’s absolutely nothing. Thirty years ago, nothing special happened.

However, Jungkook asked Sungmin, Taehyung’s uncle to meet. Records are one thing, but Jungkook knows better than anyone that there might have been something off records that happened. Some secrets are kept hidden, locked away in the minds of those who lived them.

“Thanks for having me, Mister Song,” Jungkook says as he enters Sungmin’s house.

“I couldn’t refuse my king’s visit,” he replies with a warm smile.

Many people believe that the Alphas of every pack refuse the authority of a king, but those closest to the throne are often the first to kneel. For sure, Jungkook’s natural leadership certainly helps. However, the truth is that the werewolf hierarchy isn’t just a tradition; it’s more than that. Every werewolf deeply holds onto it.

“I could say that I’m surprised, but it’d be a lie,” he admits while he guides Jungkook towards the terrace. “I was expecting it after Tae’s request.”

“I imagine,” Jungkook responds.

The covered terrace is a serene and private space. Jungkook’s eyes quickly scan the surroundings. It’s a little but pretty space. Plates, cups, and a selection of biscuits are neatly arranged on the modest wooden table.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” Sungmin gestures for Jungkook to sit.

“A coffee would be fine,” Jungkook answers.

The man takes one of the porcelain carafes on the table and carefully pours the drink into a cup, placing it in front of Jungkook.

“I was originally looking for a couple’s death or disappearances in your pack, but I couldn’t find anything documented,” Jungkook is straightforward.

Sungmin nods thoughtfully. “When do you believe this event happened?”

“Around thirty years ago,” he says.

Tae’s uncle freezes for a brief moment at his answers. His eyes flicker with something that Jungkook recognizes instantly: recognition mixed with hesitation. This is it. This might be the key to understanding your past.

“Something did happen thirty years ago,” Sungmin admits. “But we didn’t keep any trace of it out of respect to the family concerned.”

Jungkook is definitely very intrigued about this.

“The eldest daughter of an estimated member of our pack fell in love with a human. Despite our objections, she decided to run away with him. We all knew why,” he shakes his head as he remembers the sad story. “She was pregnant with that human child.”

The werewolf king listens patiently, absorbing every word.

“We didn’t inform your father immediately as we thought we could handle it ourselves. Involving the king into this would have drawn unwanted attention to this. For us, Shadows, discretion is everything.”

Jungkook nods, knowing perfectly the Shadow’s reputation. They are the ghosts of the werewolf world, unseen and often unheard, but fiercely loyal and deadly when necessary. The Shadows blend into their surroundings, disappearing when needed.

“We looked for them for years but couldn’t find them,” he seems really affected as he recalls what happened. “They were clever. They stayed hidden, and after nine years, we had no choice but to involve your father.”

Jungkook nods, understanding that after all that time, it’s normal to be reaching out to the king. “And he found them.”

Sungmin sighs deeply. “Yes. Your father had better resources than us. Within a year, he found them. Thankfully, this stayed between us and the king. He let us deal with this internally,” he explains.

The air feels heavier now, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on the two men.

“They were living in a totally different city. And they had indeed a child. A ten-year-old kid…”

Jungkook notices how hard it is for Sungmin to remember this terrible event.  

“It was very hard to end their lives, but we had to. The woman, her human mate, the kid, the life they had built… all of it was extinguished.”

Sungmin pauses, his throat tightening. For a moment, Jungkook sees the weight of guilt appearing on the older Alpha’s face.

“Killing a child was way too hard, but hybrids are forbidden. A child of two worlds, carrying both human and werewolf blood could destabilize everything. We told ourselves it was necessary.”  

Jungkook grips the edge of his coffee cup, his jaw clenched. The thought of such a decision sits uneasily within him. He’s not sure he would have had the strength to do that. It is one thing to terminate a pregnancy, but killing a ten-year-old child is totally another story.

“Did anyone else know about this? Anyone outside the pack?”

“No, only your father, and now you.”

“Do you think it’s possible that the child survived?” Jungkook asks, his voice steady but intense.

Sungmin looks directly into his king’s eyes. “We are certain they didn’t.”  

Jungkook leans back in the chair, his mind racing. If the child had somehow survived, if they had slipped through the cracks of fate, then everything changes. And if that child was you… He shakes his head, not sure that it’s possible.

“Thank you, Mister Song. This has been illuminating.”

Jungkook steps away, his heart beating fast. There are too many resemblances between this story and your story.

To yn: hi yn, could we meet tonight or tomorrow?

Barely a minute later he receives an answer.

From yn: hi Jungkook, tonight is fine. Same place as last time?

To yn: sure

As you’re walking towards the location you agreed with Jungkook, you try to understand the reason behind his sudden need to talk to you. This is unexpected for you, so it definitely makes you nervous. Is he going to tell you that he changed his mind about the baby? Is he going to pressure you to abort considering the hybrid situation? Or even worse, has something happened? Your mind races through every possibility.

“Calm down, yn,” you mumble to yourself.

You take a deep breath, your eyes closing for a brief moment. The beating of your heart drums in your ears, and slowly, you can hear it calming down. You can’t start overthinking before you even get to listen to what Jungkook wants to tell you. Maybe it’s nothing serious or something you have to really worry about.

When you arrive, you notice you’re the first one; Jungkook hasn’t arrived yet. So, you decide to sit on the closest bench. You look at the passersby walking around you with ‘Tití Me Perguntó’ from Bad Bunny playing in your headphones. It’s one of your favorite songs.

After a couple of minutes, you feel Jungkook’s presence. Your eyes stare at the surroundings to check if he’s indeed nearby. Your senses are right, you see a man walking in your direction. Even when he walks, he has such an imposing posture.

This presence feeling grows stronger as he gets closer to you, and you can’t seem to look away, as if your eyes are glued on him. Weird things have been happening with Jungkook since you’ve met him, and you can’t quite explain them.

Once he’s in front of you, you stand up, a smile naturally growing on your face. He’s incredibly handsome and charming. Once again, he has opted for a casual look: a white shirt layered under a leather jacket completed with loose, brown suede-like pants.

His strong presence near you soothes you in a way you never experienced before. All the nervousness you were feeling minutes ago is completely washed away. His strong and bestial scent fills the air and calms down your racing thoughts.

For a moment, you remain in silence, but it isn’t an awkward one. It’s actually quite the opposite. His gaze holds yours, and the intensity of his eyes draws you even more. It feels like none of you needs to speak. It is as if the two of you are communicating on a deeper level that doesn’t need language.

“Hi,” you break the silence.

“Hey, yn,” he takes a step closer.

By the way he approaches you, you sense he’s about to hug you or something similar. You prepare yourself for such, but he ends up not doing it. Jungkook just stands there, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“How have you been feeling?” he asks with evident concern in his voice.

As always, being around him comforts you. It makes you feel like you don’t need to hold anything back. There’s no need to hide your thoughts and feelings behind a mask. You can be entirely honest, saying what you truly feel without the fear of being judged. It’s part of the weird things you’ve been experiencing with Jungkook. It’s something you never felt with anyone else, not even an ex. This makes you wonder just how much this connection truly means.

“Very much torn apart by the decision I need to make,” you admit.

“Have you already considered one of them?” he questions.

You decide to sit down on the bench, your hands rubbing your face. Should you be telling him that you’re very much inclined to keep the baby? Isn’t it better if he doesn’t know anything? In any case, he won’t be around anymore. He said he’d walk away.

“I’ve kind of made a decision,” you try to be as vague as possible.

Jungkook takes a seat next to you. This time around, he doesn’t seem to try to look away from you. His deep dark orbs stare straight into your eyes. As usual, he’s pretty much unreadable, but he has that soft expression on his face. It almost looks like he truly cares and worries about you.

“In case you…” he seems to hesitate, but he doesn’t look away. “If you keep the baby,” he continues, and your heart starts hammering in your chest. “I think I won’t be able to step away.”

You close your eyes while taking a deep breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to be feeling right now.

“I thought stepping away was the right decision,” he starts explaining. “Every time I tried to pull back, I find myself being drawn to you… to our child.”

The word ‘our child’ sends shivers down your spine.   

“I can’t turn my back on this—not on you, not on them.”

As he says those words, his eyes look down at your stomach, where a precious life is growing. Even though your eyes are closed, you can feel his gaze on you. You can feel it on your baby. You can simply feel Jungkook. His entire being calls for you, and your body responds to it by being completely drawn to him.

“Why now?” your voice trembles as your eyes open to look at him. “What has changed?”

This doesn’t make any sense. Almost a month ago, he told you that he couldn’t father this child because you aren’t a werewolf, and that this child's existence is completely forbidden. Things are still the same, nothing has changed since then.

“You said you couldn’t have this child because of the whole werewolf thing,” your voice tone is slowly getting higher.

Jungkook’s face now seems to soften and it looks like he carries an emotional weight. There is definitely something going on that you can’t quite explain. And it’s scaring you.

“I think…” he runs his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you’ve started to recognize. “You’re not just a woman carrying my child,” he seems to struggle to express what’s inside his mind. “I think you might be one of us.”

His words hand in the air, your entire body freezing. For a moment, it feels like the world completely stopped moving. You blink at him, trying to process the enormity of what he just said. At this stage it feels like, Jungkook likes to make cruel jokes. First, it’s the werewolf world, and now, it’s this. How on earth can you be a werewolf? It’s simply impossible. If that was the case, you would have already turned or something like that.

“What are you talking about?” the sharpness of your voice even surprises you.  

Anger grows inside you, but it masks the deeper emotion of fear that you can feel. Your heart starts pounding erratically in your chest as the air grows heavier. How dare he? How dare he turn your world upside down with this unbelievable claim? You stand up, trying to calm yourself down.

“That’s impossible,” you say with a trembling voice.

You rest a hand on top of your heart, trying to anchor yourself, but the panic bubbling beneath your surface is relentless. The thought of upsetting the baby crosses your mind, but it doesn’t help to calm you.

Jungkook stands as well, hands raising as if he’s about to reassure you, but as he does so, he watches you disappear before his eyes.

“It’s incredible,” he whispers to himself.

Now, he has solid proof that you’re indeed a werewolf, a member of the Shadow pack.

“Yn, listen to me.”

“No, Jungkook,” you cut him off. “I am not a werewolf. That’s ridiculous. If I were one, I would have transformed or something like that.”

“Maybe,” he says quietly. “But you didn’t know you were one so things might work differently in that case.”

“Stop!” you scream. “Just stop. Do you even hear yourself? Do you even realize what you’re saying?”

Jungkook stands there, looking somewhere, but he doesn’t even know where you are.

“Take your phone, yn,” he tells you.

“What?” you say with evident surprise, and your anger turns into confusion.

“Just take your phone,” he repeats, his tone calm but firm.

Still breathing heavily and with shaky hands, you look for your phone in your purse. You’re not sure why he’s saying that or what to expect when you look at your phone.

“Now, pretend like you’ll take a selfie.”

As you look at him, there is something in his expression that compels you to obey. Slowly you lift your phone, positioning it in front of your face. The moment your screen comes into view, your breath catches in your throat. Your reflection is completely gone.

Your mind struggles to understand what is going on. The town square is visible in the background, clear as day, but your face is missing. It’s as though you’ve been erased from existence.  

“What is happening?” you almost scream. “What kind of sorcery is this?”

Your gaze remains glued to the phone, your hand trembling so much that the image blurs. You’re gone. Completely gone. Your hand instinctively goes to your face, touching your skin as though it might bring you back into view. But when you glance at the screen again, even your hand remains invisible. This can’t be true. How can you even disappear? How is that possible?

“It’s not sorcery,” he calmly replies. “It’s you. It’s your nature. Only a werewolf can do that.”

“No! That’s not true. That’s not who I am. I’m human. I’ve always been human,” you shake your head before putting your phone back in your purse. “But I’m carrying your child so that must be it.”

Jungkook shakes his head.

“That’s not how it works, yn. I swear,” he’s trying to look for you, so it makes him look like a crazy man. “Pregnancies only bring out even more any abilities someone has,” he explains. “This pregnancy is simply revealing your true nature.”

Tears stream down your face while your heart hurts.

“Have you been experiencing some weird stuff lately?” he says. “Like heightened hearing or smell or night vision or superhuman strength or even super speed.”

Then, your body freezes once more.

“No,” you answer, and for a moment, you hesitate to reveal the truth. “But I’ve always had heightened hearing and smell, and I perfectly see in the dark.”

This all confirms what he says. You’re a werewolf.  

“I can hear your heartbeat,” you add. “I can hear everybody's heartbeats, even the baby’s.”

You close your eyes, the truth violently hitting you. All this time you’ve been a werewolf, and nobody told you anything. You’re not sure Felix knows it, but it hurts to realize that your parents hid something so big from you. It’s your nature after all. 

“You have your answer, yn,” he responds.

Now, you’re crying because the world is collapsing underneath your feet. Your life has been filled with lies, and you’re only discovering this now. It hurts even more that it’s the father of your child who’s revealing this and not your parents.

Jungkook follows the sound of your tears to come closer. You fall in his arms, holding him as tight as possible. He tries to hold you back in his arms, but he doesn’t see you at all. The only thing that can make you reappear is for you to relax. Your emotions are the keys to your powers.

“Focus on the baby’s heartbeat,” he murmurs in your ear. “Focus only on that.”

While tears keep running down your face, you try to search for your baby’s heartbeat. It’s super faint, but you quickly find it. This little sound has rocked you to sleep so many times, and it’s one of the most comforting sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Tudum, Tudum, Tudum,” Jungkook starts mimicking the sound of the baby’s beat.

You close your eyes to only focus on that sound. Slowly but surely, you reappear which reassures Jungkook, and he holds you tighter in his arms. His warm embrace and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat calm you down. He presses a gentle kiss on your head while his hands start to soothe your back. Seeing you like this is heartbreaking, and he hates the fact that he was the one delivering this news.

For a little while, you both remain like this, and his arms feel like the safest place on earth. Even if you hate this entire situation, his presence reassures you. Everything about this moment right now appeases your soul. There is absolutely no doubt that the reality you now have to face is devastating, but you feel like you’ll have Jungkook by your side. And strangely, it seems like it’s the only thing that you need.

Today was a hell of a day!

Everything was simply awful, and it felt like it was a never-ending day. Your mind was constantly thinking about the words Jungkook said. ‘I think you might be one of us.’ You swear you could hear them on repeat all day long.  

Due to how you’ve been feeling, you’ve left everybody on read—even Jungkook. Dealing with this strange reality is too heavy, and you need space. You need some time to digest the news. You need time to simply breathe.

Once you’re at home, you wrap yourself in your Harry Potter robe, lay on the couch, and play the first Harry Potter movie. Right now, all you need is to find comfort in something, and Harry Potter is your escape.

Although the movie is playing in the background, you’re not really watching it. Your thoughts are totally lost somewhere else, somewhere that includes werewolves. You can’t believe that this is your new reality. It hurts deeply that your parents never said anything to you. How could they keep something so monumental from you? Were they intending to let this part of themselves, this part of you die in silence?

Things would have been completely different if they had informed you about that side of you. Maybe you would have sought answers earlier. Maybe you would have explored what it means to carry this legacy. There is a whole culture, heritage, and part of yourself that you’ve missed out on for thirty years. And what hurts the most is that you hate your parents right now. For years, you’ve been hating your parents’ murderer, and now, the tables have turned.

You hate them for what they withheld, for what they never gave you a chance to understand.

This whole journey of becoming a mom has been a complete nightmare. This hasn’t been going as planned. This has been anything but easy. And now, it leaves you wondering if you should really keep the baby. Maybe, you should simply terminate the pregnancy and leave this all behind. But will this be so simple? Obviously, not.

Terminating the pregnancy won’t change anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that Jungkook came into your life to completely wreck your world. Cutting short the life growing inside you will probably just make you feel guilty for doing it. Jungkook won’t disappear, and neither will your wolf side.

This isn’t fair.

Fairness has never been part of your life. It feels like your life has always been robbed. Everybody has been controlling it, making you feel completely powerless all the time. This pregnancy was about gaining control again, but even like that, it wasn’t. A big part of you wants to keep this baby, and you’re very much inclined to keep them. But you don’t know. Jungkook’s revelation still needs to be processed.

“What am I going to do, baby?” you whisper as your hands naturally caress your stomach.

In the end, this baby isn’t a hybrid one. They’re fully a werewolf. You can understand why Jungkook changed his mind. He didn’t want the child because he believed it was a hybrid, something completely forbidden in his world. But now that it’s not the case, he wants to be part of his child's life, if you keep it.

It makes perfect sense, but the hurt remains. He gets what he wants, doesn’t he? The chance to raise his child. But what about you? What about what you want?

“You’re a wolfy,” you continue saying. “So, your daddy wants you now.”

However, if you keep this child, you’ll have to teach them what it means to be a werewolf. You’ll have to guide and prepare them for a life you know nothing about. You’ll have to learn everything with them; every instinct, every tradition, and every secret. You’ll develop your wolf’s abilities together. This life inside you isn’t just a new life; it’s a symbol of your own transformation. This child represents the end of your human life and the beginning of something different.

Are you ready for that?

You’re not sure. You’re not sure if you want to embark on this new journey. A journey where you figure out who and what you are. A journey where you’ll have to dig into your parents’ past. A journey where you’ll have to face your ghosts. A journey where you might find all the answers you’ve always desired to have.

Jungkook seems to hold the key to all of that. The truth, the answers, and the future. You need him, more than you want to admit. He’s the only werewolf you know, and he might as well be your guide on this.

Even if everything scares you, this is what will help you to figure out what happened to your parents twenty years ago. This is the key to finally getting to truly know them. This hasn’t been going as you planned it, but it has been going the way you need it.  

For now, you’re simply going to enjoy this comforting and reassuring movie before truly facing this new reality of yours. Tonight is your last night as a human, and tomorrow, you’ll start to understand what it means to be a werewolf.

For the millionth time, you check that your apartment is perfectly cleaned and tidied. Jungkook is coming tonight; you’ve invited him over to discuss this werewolf thing. You’re incredibly nervous as you’re very scared of how things could go. Are you going to learn some unpleasant truths about your lineage?

Also, you can’t forget to tell him you have your first ultrasound tomorrow. He’ll probably want to come as he’s expressed his change of mind concerning this child. Your child. Instinctively your hand cradles your stomach.

Before the doorbell echoes in your apartment, you sense Jungkook’s presence behind the door. This thing of sensing him is definitely extremely weird, and you’re not even sure you’ll get used to it. But you guess, it’s part of being a werewolf.

You take a deep breath while opening the door to him. As he comes into view, his beauty takes your breath away. His hair is perfectly pushed back, only a strand of hair falling on his forehead. This time around, he’s dressed in a more formal outfit. Like the first time you met him at the clinic, he’s wearing a suit. Only this time, it’s a dark blue one.

And it fits him so well.

A smile grows on his face when his eyes lay on you. It warms your heart, and you can’t help but smile back at him.  

“Hi, yn,” he says.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply. “Come on in,” you take a step back to let him in.

Jungkook steps into your cocoon, his gaze briefly wandering at the entrance. With practiced ease, he shrugs off his long black coat, the movement accentuating the subtle play of his muscles. Your curious eyes can’t help but follow the way his shoulders shift and his arms flex as he removes his coat and slips off his shoes.

A little grin shows up when he realizes you’ve been staring at him. However, you both pretend you didn’t notice what the other was doing. It’s like you’re pretending you don’t feel drawn to each other.

“Would you like to drink or eat something?” you politely ask.

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “I’ve already eaten and drank enough for today,” a little giggle escapes his pretty lips. “I had a long and exhausting meeting this afternoon.”

“Oh,” you simply say. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to eat a bit because I’m quite hungry.”

His eyes inevitably look down at your stomach, the sound of the child’s heartbeat resonating in his ears. It’s such a comforting sound.

“No,” he answers. “Eat as much as you want.”

You drag him to the kitchen so you can eat something while you discuss about the madness that your life has become. You open the cabinets to check what you have, but then, you remember you bought your favorite yogurt two days ago. Without no further hesitation, you move to the fridge, grab it together with a spoon, and start eating it.

While you do that, Jungkook’s eyes are glued on you. His stare carefully follows you as you move through the kitchen. Honestly, he’s glad to be here with you; he finally gets to see you in your comfort zone, and you definitely seem to be glowing in this place.

“Can I ask you what you do for a living?” you ask while bringing the spoon to your mouth.

His eyes follow your hand before looking up. He leans on the cabinets while never looking away from you. Jungkook crosses his arms on his chest and heavily considers what to tell you.

“Well…” he seems hesitant to reveal it. “I’m not sure you’re going to believe me.”

You tilt your head, wondering what it could be. Is he working with the mafia like you thought before he announced his wolfy side? Or is he some kind of criminal? Or is it the opposite, like a doctor?

“Try me,” you tease him.

Jungkook didn’t know up until now how much he needed to hear the teasing tone in your voice.

His eyes never cease to follow your hand’s movements with the spoon. It’s mesmerizing, holding him captive as if he’s unable to look away. The way your lips wrap around the spoon sends shivers down his spine. Jungkook shakes his head, pushing away those weird thoughts. It’s inappropriate.

“I’m a king,” his tone is firm, leaving no room for doubts.

You almost choke with the spoon in your mouth. Of all the jobs you considered, this one definitely wasn’t on the list. This is beyond unexpected and by the way he looks, you know that he isn’t joking. You’ve seen his serious face so many times now, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“A king?” you repeat to make sure you heard it right.

Jungkook nods, and then, you can’t unsee it. This entire outfit breathes power—and money—, his charisma is beyond magnetic, and he has a strong presence. Let’s not forget about the unreadable face he always has on. There is definitely something royal about him, and he definitely looks like a king.

“That makes the child in my belly a future king or queen then?” you ask half-jokingly.

“Yep,” he answers. “And as a king, I’m expected to give the perfect heir, so the hybrid child wasn’t really one.”

When he explained the situation a month ago, everything made sense, but now it makes even more sense. This child carries royal blood.

“I’m not carrying anyone’s kid,” you playfully say. “A king,” you whisper.

This definitely changes your view of the situation. Now that he wants this child, it makes them the heir to the werewolf throne. The baby growing inside you will one day be a king or a queen. It makes you feel important but scared as well.

“It’s crazy,” you look up at him while bringing the spoon to your mouth once more.

Right there and then, your heart skips a beat when you realize the way he’s looking at you, or should you say, the way his eyes are devouring you. You can’t remember the last time someone looked at you in that way.

“It is,” he admits.

“And what does a werewolf king do exactly?” you curiously ask.

“Many things,” he smiles at you. “I’m the supreme leader of the packs which makes me the bridge between them. If any issue arises between them, I have to resolve them and also make sure the werewolves follow the rules. I’m also their protector. I must ensure the laws are respected and nobody reveals our secrets. And do many other things, but those are the most important ones.”

You nod, wondering if these responsibilities aren’t too much of a burden for him. It mustn’t be easy to be the one making decisions, and it definitely sounds like the entire werewolf world relies on him.

“And you?” he asks. “What do you do?”

A bright smile appears on your face. “I’m an Elementary teacher.”

Thinking about the little kids you see every day simply makes you happy. Being able to give those little humans the tools they need to grow in this world is one of the most fulfilling things. This job has been healing your inner child because teaching those young children has allowed you to guide and give them a stability you never had in your childhood.

“Oh, nice,” he says.

The yogurt is now over so you suggest going to the living room. This way, you’ll be sitting comfortably on the couch while discussing the hot topic. Werewolves.

Last night, while in bed, you were mentally going through all the questions you might have for him. There is so much for you to know about this new world, this new heritage. For sure, last night, you didn’t know he was a king, but now that you do, you believe that he might help you a lot more than expected.  

Jungkook sits down next to you, and you decide to face each other.

“So,” you start saying. “I guess you can imagine why I invited you.”

The man sitting next to you nods. “Your wolf blood.”

“Indeed,” you nod as you speak. “I have a lot of questions.”

You don’t even know where to start.

“You said there are packs,” you begin. “Would you know to which pack I belong?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “The Shadow pack,” he pauses for a couple of seconds. “Each pack has a wolf eye color. Mine is red as you’ve already seen, which indicates that I’m the king and member of The Blood pack. The Shadow’s eye color is blue, and for the third and last pack, The Lunar, it’s white,” he explains. “A week ago, I saw your eyes turning blue, that’s how I discovered it.”

The Shadow, The Blood, and The Lunar. Three packs. You mentally register the information he gives you. There is so much to discover about this new reality.

“The Shadows also have unique abilities, one of them being the fact that they can blur into their surroundings.”

That’s what happened to you two days ago after he revealed your true nature. It was just the confirmation of who you are.

“As far as I can remember, I’ve only had heightened senses, but I never came to shift into a wolf. How is that possible?”

“That is something I ignore,” he admits. “You’re the first werewolf who didn’t grow up with her pack’s member. My first guess is the ignorance of your nature prevented it from fully revealing itself.”

You look down at your feet on the couch. It seems so weird that only a part of your abilities has revealed itself throughout your life.

“I’ve tried to find something about you, but I couldn’t,” he admits. “I even reached out to an Alpha of the pack, but nothing.”

“Oh,” you simply say, your eyes meeting his. “Do you think I could meet that Alpha?”

“Yes,” he smiles at you. “I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you, and he might probably help you more than me with your past and even your abilities.”

Jungkook then proceeds to explain how the werewolf world works. There is a hierarchy. Alpha, Beta, Delta, and Omega. Alpha being the highest rank, and you only achieve it once you fully master your powers. Logically, you’re an Omega as you barely know what you can do. Jungkook is an Alpha which makes sense since he’s a king.

If you keep the baby, they will automatically become an Alpha when they become king or queen. Things work a bit differently for the royal family.

Normally, a werewolf experiences their first shift on the first full moon of their fourteenth anniversary. The difference with the royal family is the fact that they experience that at ten years old. It’s quite early in life, but that allows them to master their abilities a lot earlier than any other werewolf.

Obviously, the parents and the family remain by your side throughout your first full moon. They guide you through the pain when transforming, and they stay with you while you’re a wolf. Jungkook tells you that the first transformation is very hard to handle. The pain is unbearable and once you’re a wolf, all your human senses disappear. You’re just a beast. A hunting beast. Having your family by your side prevents you from killing anyone or anything. Slowly and with a lot of work, you are able to control that primal urge.

The question left hanging is when and if you’ll transform. If this pregnancy brings out your wolf blood, there are higher chances that you’ll experience your first full moon. But Jungkook doesn’t have an answer to give.  

Then, he informs you that you can’t transform someone by biting them, that’s an absolute myth. Being a werewolf is genetic. You inherit it from your parents, and you’ll give that gene to your children. Thus, the importance of maintaining pure blood.    

 “For now, I guess that’s all,” you tell him once you’ve asked all the questions.

“Since the next full moon is in two days, I’d like to be with you in case you transform,” he says.

Well, you don’t have much of a choice. There’s this unknown about you, and you wouldn’t like to be alone during your first full moon, especially if it’s painful and bestial.

“Thanks,” you mumble while looking down.

Jungkook offers you a little smile.

“I’m by your side now, yn,” he places his fingers under your chin to slowly lift your head. “I won’t let you navigate this alone.”

His eyes shine with sincerity. You’re thankful that, in the middle of this chaos, you found Jungkook. This man brings so much comfort and seems to have one of the prettiest hearts you have encountered.

“And I’ll support you no matter what you decide with the baby,” he adds.

You remain in silence for a moment, your eyes scanning his soft face. You’ve never seen him this close. You’ve never noticed that little mole under his lips, or the little scar on his cheek, or how perfectly round his nose is. He looks even prettier this closely.  

The decision about your child has already been made, but you haven’t said it out loud yet. Jungkook will be the first one to know, and it makes sense since he’s the father.

“I’m going to keep the baby,” you reveal.  

[linklethehistorian]

Hi — OP here. I wanted to highlight some of the tags that I thought were worth showing from y’all insightful folks (especially those in other countries) who have been reblogging:

Also, since I’m getting a few people reblogging and/or commenting like I’m fearmongering and saying the situation is already doomed:

This was NOT my intent. I am well aware of everything that’s required for this to get passed. I’m well aware it’s a slim shot of it happening. This does not make it a non-threat. Listen to the voices around you — even those who do not live in this country. Listen to them, and take heed of their warnings. They know this situation by heart, from experience. They’ve seen it all before.

Listen to the people who know their history, who know history in general of situations that were similar. They speak the truth.

Me telling you that this will not be the end was not fearmongering and it was not an attempt to be demoralizing and it was not treating the situation like, or implying it was, an inescapable Armageddon. I know it sounds terrifying, but that’s because it is. And people need to see that. They need to think about it. They need to know what is at stake in the event this passes, however unlikely those odds may or may not be.

It was a warning. A call to action. A “unless we both as a country and as individuals act to stop it here and now, this will happen.”

The reason why I did not bring up the odds is largely because I was in a hurry to get this out, because I wanted to alert people as soon as I could. Because this it’s important. As I have said previously, this post was made very early in to this becoming public knowledge. There weren’t many places talking about it yet and I wanted to do so before people started flooding in with the dangerous, downplaying “don’t worry, it’s a 0% chance” rhetoric that would convince people it wasn’t worth acting against and that they didn’t have to do anything, because they’d think they could trust it would all just be okay.

And you should never just trust that it will all be okay, if there’s something you can do to help ensure that. The odds of the situation are ultimately entirely irrelevant when it comes to the necessity to act. You should always treat situations like this like if you don’t act, no one will.

As I have said in another post, while it’s understandable people want to comfort themselves, there is no such thing as a 0% chance, and there is also no such thing as slim odds unless you act in every way you can to ensure the odds are, in fact, as slim as you believe and hope them to be, and spreading anything along those lines is to play an extremely dangerous game that only helps your enemy.

We are not omniscient. We cannot read the hearts and minds of each individual member of congress and head of state and know in an instant how they feel, nor can we see the future. Betting on odds to save your life and your fate and the lives and fates of everyone you know and love when you could be doing something to at least help those odds is a fool’s game.

Do your research. Know your odds, if it helps to comfort you. Check out the links the kind people in the reblogs and comments have sent or offered you and listen to those around you.

But don’t ever assume that you don’t have to act. Especially on important matters like this.

Yes, part of the reason this bill got passed may have been a distraction tactic to get you to look the other way from other things going on; HOWEVER, THIS DOES NOT MAKE IT ANY LESS DANGEROUS OR A NON-THREAT.

Multiple things can be a threat at once. Something can be both a distraction and a serious attempt to alter the course of the American future. You can care about multiple things at once. You don’t have to choose. But if you do choose only a few, certainly don’t choose to ignore the amendment that could permanently alter how America runs and allow this man — or people like him — to have a grip over this country for 12 years each, and pave the way for lifelong dictatorships.

Thanks for your time and all the reblogs that help made this post spread. My blog is not super popular, so I never could’ve dreamed this would fly away like it has, but I’m so happy that it was something important like this that took off.

I love you all. We’re in this together. Protect your country in any way you can. Be safe. There is hope, but it’s hope we need to help carve out by our own hands. Not hope we put blindly into the hands of others.

Source

Transcript:

“BREAKING: A constitutional amendment has been filed allowing President Trump to seek a 3rd term in office.

"No person shall be elected to the office of the President more than three times, nor be elected to any additional term after being elected to two consecutive terms, and no person who has held the office of President, or acted as President, for more than two years of a term to which some other person was elected President shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice."

It was filed by Congressman Andy Ogles (R-TN).

Don’t let this slip by unnoticed. This is not just “one extra term”, it’s a warning shot. It’s a red flag. It’s an omen.

They are slowly turning up the heat in the pan. Do not be the frog who sits denying it’s getting hotter.

One extra term will become two, two will become three, and three will eventually give way to lifelong reign of each president.

Fight. Fight for God’s sake.

Contact your local representative of congress. Convince them we do not want this.

We are going to end up in a dictatorship.

@ikiyou

Please help spread this. I don’t usually get political and I don’t usually ask for assistance but this is important and you have more reach.

[baepsays]

blood of a prey ⸻ Fushiguro Toji.

cw: mention of animal blood, fem oriented reader, sex, ambiguous anatomy, she/her pronouns, outdoor sex, just sweet mutual pining and fluffy smut, kind of your forbidden love, third person pronouns.

Emperor Toji often hunted alone. Be it that he didn't really grow up with a herd of people following him around praising his inadequate skills and pandering to him, or maybe because he was too used to scavenging and gathering some food for himself as well as the kids he grew up with, all by himself. It was always a competition, finder’s keepers. So it was easier to hunt by himself.

But after one point in his life, he never denied the company of one person, in fact it was mandatory to have you—his grand chancellor—with him at all times. Especially when he's out on a hunt to amuse himself. He never understood why the royals did that but as the current ruling emperor of the region he understands the need to go out deep into the woods with none but his wisest and most trusted. 

So here he was galloping into the woods on his black horse, around the area where one would often sight a boar. With you on his tow, on a contrasting white horse. You two have always been two different pieces of the puzzle who complete each other, and the entire picture. 

Toji spots a boar in the distance sipping on some water from a pond, and he tugs on his reins to get his horse to run faster. You notice him quickening his pace and match his movements by tightening the grip on your horse's reins. By the time you catch up to him he has already struck down the boar with his arrow from about 20 feet away. If that is not impressive I do not know what is. 

“That was an incredible target, your majesty.” you say with a calm demeanor. You were never known for your affective responses, though you have come to realize more emotions in the years you have known the current majesty himself. You have lost your temper on him about countless times, spent nights with anguish— drowning in worries about the kingdom and him. You have also found a reservoir in your physical pleasure and needs. You have noticed a little ball of tension forming in your abdomen and chest over miniscule actions performed by the emperor. 

Sometimes Toji would be aware of it. Other times it would a the most predictable course of action for him to comprehend what the he is making you feel— my goodness, viz; how right now he jumped off his horse which he stopped by the, now fallen boar, and goes up to it to pick it up on his shoulder, and getting some blood smeared across his face in that process.

“Do you think we should go over the slum reform plans once more tonight? I was not really satisfied with what was presented to us. Hmm?” He continues their conversation before the boar sighting, as if this was the most normal course of happenings. 

And yet stood there eyes a little wide, mouth open agape, shivers running on your skin, and a familiar unidentifiable knot is back in the pits of your stomach with the accompanying tightening around your thorax. It was as if you could not take your eyes off his green irises or the animal blood smeared across his cheeks. It really contrasted, yet simplified who he was— a brutish man with no regards for the royalty he possessed, but only what he could make of it. 

“Y/n?” He calls your name out to pull you out of that unresponsive trance.

“Yes, your majesty?” You respond a second too late from your usual reactivity, getting out of your trance with a final gulp to swallow down the desires ascending.

“Well like I was saying, I did not like foreign minister's proposal,I mean I never found the guy to be that interested in any internal affairs to begin with.” He moves to put the dead boar on the back of his horse, with ease of one of his hands, and the other going to rub off the blood on his face with the hilt of his hand, then pushing back his hair— which only just smeared the blood further across his face, all around the scar at the right corner of his lips .

You were back in your trance watching him move around effortlessly while his eyes landed on a singular firefly flying over both your heads. The sun had already set, it wouldn't be difficult to notice a firefly in the orange to dark transitioning dusky sky— what was scarce was the firefly itself. It has been a while since anyone has sighted a firefly roaming around. So he puts the boar on his horse's back and ties both of your rides to the nearest tree then grabs a hold of your hand to pull you towards the direction of the firefly’s path. 

“Those are-” you find yourself in awe of the sight before you. Hundreds, nay, thousands of fireflies gathered in a sparkle. 

“Fireflies huh.” He quipped beside you, his face breaking into a smile at the sight of a sparkle. 

“It has been a while since I last saw so many fireflies together.” He somberly says, with his eyes still trained on the fireflies.

“In fact, it has been a fat while since I last saw even one firefly, I used to catch them all the time you know.” he looks over at you now, though you have never been one to speak without reason, you've never held back from speaking freely in his presence —even at times when you try to hold back, you've never been able to. And when he looks at you, thinking you might be in awe of the sight to look away and reply to him, he finds your eyes in fact, halted, in his direction. 

“What is it? Are you alright? It has been a while since we ate, hasn't it? And it's nighttime already, are you cold or-” he never finished that sentence— as you leaned in towards him, your eyes looking into his eyes, a little glazed and unfocused even. 

He was probably expecting a kiss, at most, but he never in his life would have guessed what you did next— you held the clean side of his face with one hand, placed the other on his collar and pulled him in. Then close the gap between you two to only just graze your lips against him, to move up to his cheeks and give the blood smeared across his face a big stripe of lick. Followed by a few kitten licks to clean it all up.

And all he could do, shut up and adhere, for once. 

The sparkle of fireflies swarmed the pond. The luminescent bugs mingled and brightened the forest along with the stars and the moon. 

All the while the ruler of the lands encompassing the forest and the vast beyond, had his most entrusted advisor— who is second to none but him — sat atop his lap, letting him indulge his nation’s grand chancellor as he pleased. With his lips engulfing the broad expanse of her decolletage and going back and forth between her lips and the span of her neck. Minding not to leave any visible marks, to not have his grand chancellor later present him with an agitated lecture. As much as he may enjoy the sight of that, he will refrain for now. 

“Your majesty- please move along, more.” the advisor pleads. 

“Goodness doll, have some patients.” he simply smirks beneath her as he replies. 

“I have had enough.” she deadpans, determined and starts moving her hips, to create friction where they are connected. 

Toji winces at the stretch around his cock, unable to hold back the moan and the urge to ram himself upwards. He let her momentarily take the lead of the course. It is only when she collapses on his clothed chest, well barely really— he was adorned in breezy black cotton button up shirt, showing off the huge expanse of his chest and collar bones— they were both still fully clothed, with the exception of his pantaloons being tucked down to accommodate his penis, while the advisor’s bottom half of the garments were all gone— the buttons were ripped off her trousers, her vest long gone into pieces of shreds, the poor button down shit hanging onto her shoulder by one remaining buttoned hole in the middle of her shirt. 

She throws her head back at a particular stretch down there and, the emperor finally loses it all, seeing his auxiliary fall apart on his cock barely holding oneself up by digging her nails into his bare shoulder— he tightens the grip around her waist and buttocks, letting himself mark her, only where no one but he can see. And he gives into his bodily and romantic desires, as he plunges himself deeper. 

“I - I sometimes look at you. And, and i just come over with- ” she sighs then continues. “ with these desires. Desires which are not explicable, and it tightens up my thorax and gut” she stops to heave out a moan and continues this time with her forehead on his, looking back into each other’s pupils. “Your, majesty.” she whispers. 

“Yes doll” he looks into her eyes as if she holds the key to all the answers in the universe, and to him, the minister might as well. 

“Those are the times when you feel, more than ever, out of my grasp. Do you ever feel similarly?” with those last questions she gives up, and gives into her own pleasures aided by him. 

“I never feel that.” he gives out a dry response. Making her turn her head to the side on his shoulder, to observe his face, eyes glazed, both arms limp to her side. 

“Because there is no moment I am not consumed by your existence, never, since the day you told me you belong to me over the throne. I know you by your scent alone. ” he confided into the crook of her neck, holding onto her limp body while he chased his own pleasure. 

“And there is no moment where I do not feel, as if you are slipping out of my fingers, despite your claims.” he confesses as he releases within your core. These fleeting moments are where he feels as if you are never quite in his grasp, at least not in a manner he would prefer.

a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/omi-resources. header from jjk manga. i keep writing about blood dude wtf is going awnnn. have fun reading<3 i edited as much as i could last night so there still might be mistakes sowwy :(

THIS IS A LONG FIC IN PROGRESS [ CALLED ‘EMERALD SOVEREIGN’ ] IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN THE MAIN FIC PLEASE ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST IN THE COMMENTS BELOW.

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[bedlam-barbie]

Attention

Pairing: Hwang In-hu x recruier!fem!reader ; slight Salesman x fem!reader

Warnings: jealous!In-Hu; slightly obsessive!In-Hu; slightly suggestive themes and words: yearning; angst; probably ooc!In-Hu

Word count: ~4k

Author’s note: sooo this is my first fanfiction I have written in 10 years, what this man does to me… I needed some more recruiter!reader as I am so obsessed with the idea. I also included the Salesman as he is my other guilty pleasure. I deeply want to write a part 2 , let me know if you are interested!

Hwang In-Hu had always hated clubs. He hated the obnoxious music. He hated the smell of sweat and desperation. He hated people pushing into each other. He hated the shameless displays of people grinding and almost taking their clothes in the middle of the dance floor. He hated the cheap liquor diluted with water. He hated random people getting it on in those disgusting toilets. It was safe to say, In-Hu would rather be anywhere else than there. 

But there was one thing he didn’t hate about it. 

Her hair was bouncing to the rapid rhythm, her body somehow knowing how to sway to every beat of every song, sending him into a trance. She would always make eye contact with him lip syncing to the filthiest lyrics. Her lips always painted in a beautiful red color almost begging him to come over and taste them. It was almost like their own ritual. He would sit at their reserved table in a leather armchair, nursing a glass of whiskey, while she would be just within his eye reach dancing, a mischievous look behind those oh so pretty eyes. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, unless absolutely having to, she would not look at him, not address him. It was like In-Hu was not worthy of her attention. He was aware he fucked up, that was the whole reason he even showed up to this God forsaken rats’ nest. The more she ignored him, the more starved he became, a combination of anger and hurt playing at his heartstrings. 

Lust and guilt coiled tightly within him, indistinguishable from one another. She wasn’t just beautiful—her beauty was deliberate, a weapon she wielded with precision. And him, unarmed and unprepared, stood squarely in her sights. He should’ve looked away. He didn’t. In-Hu took another sip of the whiskey as he watched her dance with him as he contemplated what has brought him to this specific moment.

It was a sunny morning in Seoul, a rare occurrence in the grey autumn. He looked over at the other side of the bed, finding her sleeping peacefully. She was sleeping on her back, her beautiful hair splattered on the black satin pillow. Her chest was slowly rising and falling, his white crisp shirt covering almost nothing of her perfect figure. For the first time since he had met her 3 years ago, she looked delicate, youthful, carefree. Gone were the sassy attitude, the makeup, the expensive clothes and her sharp tongue. In-Hu placed a soft kiss between her breasts as he made his way out of the bed into the shower. 

The smell of her skin, the sound of her voice moaning, the softness of her delicate body, they were all stuck in his mind, as well as her little love confession. He was planning to get started on breakfast, make some coffee, treat her like a princess. As he exited his shower, he took a look at his phone, making sure he hadn’t missed any important work-related calls. The games were going to start in just over a week and everything had to be perfect. That’s when he saw the date. 

25th of October.

In-Hu’s heart dropped as he read it over and over again. No, it wasn’t possible. The 25th was going to be in a few days. He franticly opened his calendar checking again.

And again online.

And again, on his physical one.

And all over again on his phone.

He felt a rush of panic wash through him. Hwang In-Hu was not a man that panicked. Or a forgetful man. Ever. But even so the thought was plaguing his mind: He had forgotten. How could have that happened? Afterall, it was the anniversary of his wife’s death. He would always buy her flowers on the 25th. He would always bring them over to her grave. He would always spend at least 2 hours speaking to her, to her and their unborn child. 

Well, until now, he did at least. Uncontrollable anger burned through his mind. Anger at himself, anger at her. He was supposed to be at the cemetery. Not saying yes to her invite to have some drinks at the bar near their work. Not letting a spoiled insane subaltern seduce him with her long lashes and playful smiles. Not fucking said stupid girl who was two whole decades younger than him. 

He didn’t even realize when she sneaked behind him, putting her arms around his waist and smiling into his back.

“Good morning, handsome” her voice whispered softly. 

The sweetness in her voice made his heart flutter. Which in turn, made him even more inexplicably angry. His body tensed up under her touch and he pushed her arms away. 

“Someone woke up to the wrong side of the bed” she teased.

Under any other circumstance, he would have been amused. She would always tease him and he quite frankly found it as endearing as it also turned him on.

“It’s time for you to go” In-Hu replied coldly.

He could see her tense up as well. Her hands crossed over her body. His dress shirt which he found so unbelievably hot on her earlier now looked like a painful reminder of his own shame.

“Excuse me?” her voice was controlled but she was hiding her built up anger as well.

“I said, you should leave. You were great last night and everything, but let’s not treat it as if it was more than us scratching an inch.” His voice was measured and he looked into her eyes. He could see she was hurt by his words. Damn it, he hated seeing her in pain. 

“In-Hu, you said you loved me last night. You told me how long you’ve waited to say it, to kiss me. You kissed me as if you were dying and I was the only thing that could save you.” 

God, she was right. He did and say it all, and he did mean it. His face was cold unenterable.

“Maybe you should not listen to what old perverted men like me tell you. God, your father really did a number on you if you are dumb enough to sleep with any old men.” In-Hu knew his words would hurt her, but he needed her to stay away. It was better like this. The anger he harbored in that moment for himself and for her would only end in one way: violence. And while he was all for rough play, he would not touch her in that way. 

“I called you a taxi already”

Smack

The sound of her hand hitting him across the face echoed in the penthouse. His jaw clenched, his eyes suddenly burning of desire. The thoughts of his wife finally stopped and there was nothing but silence. Without giving it another thought, his palms found her cheeks pulling her into a desperate hungry kiss. He felt her body tense up and she pulled away.

Smack

Her eyes were burning of unspoken anger and pain, some tears threatening to fall. She angrily spit in his face. It took him by surprise. Everything was so quick.

“Fuck you” she whispered.

She turned around grabbing the remains of her dress and heels and she hurried out. She looked almost pathetic. Her figure gathering everything in the stupid white shirt. To him, she never looked so small, so broken and his heart almost ached. When she left, silence took over completely. In-Hu knew he screwed up, badly, but in that second, her feelings were the last thing on his mind. 

The next time they met was just after the games, earlier tonight. She had not tried contacting him after the incident and neither did he. Whether it was guilt or his shame it did not matter. He poured it all into the games. In-Hu tried to pretend it was just another incident that did not affect him in the slightest. At the end of the day, she was just another employee, another recruiter. He promised himself he would never betray the memory of his wife again. As long as he did not see her it was fine.

Then it came the celebration. Oh Il-Nam decided for everyone in the company to meet for dinner and a poker night at one of the most reputable places in Seoul. Their blackjack table was set apart from the others in a private room overlooking the city. It was a tradition after all, every year after the end of the games, they would come together to celebrate it. As he was very much aware, that would probably be the last one hosted by Il-Nam and as Frontman and the next in line to take his place as the Host, he knew it was mandatory for him to attend regardless of personal feelings.

At first, he told himself that it was fine. That he will see her again and they would both be acting professional for the sake of Il-Nam. While she was an attention seeker through and through, In-Hu was not about to grant her the satisfaction of regretting his choices. As expected, he was one of the first ones to arrive. One by one all appeared before the scheduled time 20:00. His heart quickened as the arrival time came and went but she was not there. He scoffed to himself. Of course she was late, always making an entrance, always captivating the eye of every man that dared to breathe in her presence. In Hu liked to lie to himself and say it never affected him like that. Sure, she was stunningly beautiful, but she was just another woman. And then she did finally appear.

Dressed in a mini black Yves Saint Laurent dress hugging every curve of her body, her red bottom heels clicking as she made her entrance. Her signature red lipstick and blow out making her look utterly ethereal. She had a black leather trench that one of the valets quickly pulled down. She was wearing tight high stockings and for a few seconds, In-hu forgot how to breathe. The officer looked at him knowingly and handed him a glass of whiskey.

She was a storm that commanded surrender, and everyone fell willingly.

Throughout the whole night, she did not even glance once towards him. She sat down next to the Salesman. God, how he disliked that one. In-Hu saw him as nothing more than a psychopath. A useful psychopath, but none the less, a psychopath. He never even bothered to know his name, for him it did not matter, he was as important like a gum stuck onto his shoe. He could remark that he was a loyal one though, every year bringing one of the biggest number of recruits for the games, as big as the ones she did. After all, he was the one that recruited him as well. He supposed his disdain for the man came from that. 

As dinner finished, the mandatory game of blackjack started. At this point it was tradition. It was Il-Nam’s favorite game and as it was most probably the last year he would take part in it; he saw it as proper to participate. However, he could not concentrate on the game. He heard her giggle, and his eyes instinctively went to find her.

In-hu saw her arrange the Salesman’s tie, while whispering seductively in his ear, her hand touching his chest for a little more time than necessarily. He felt himself getting angry as he saw the perfectly manicured hands traveling onto the other man’s body. It was not like he has not seen it before. He was perfectly aware of her flirtatious manners, at the end of the day, she acted the same way towards him. So why was he getting so irrationally angry?

“I win again. At this point, you guys have to try a little harder, it is getting exhausting to keep on seeing you lose” she said smugly as she dragged the tokens towards her, a smirk playing on her perfect lips.

“And what do I win, if I may be so indiscreet?” the Salesman’s voice purred close to her ear. 

“Children, behave, there are elders present” In-Hu’s voice rang before he could control it. He was starting to get irritated by the sound of his stupid voice.

“Oh, In-hu, it’s fine. I think it is rather exciting to raise the stakes. You know how these young ones are, they would do anything for the thrill” Il-Nam’s voice said amused. “And after all, I think they would make quite a dashing pair.”

Jealousy coiled in his chest like a venomous snake, hissing and writhing with every stolen glance he dared to throw at her. What did he even mean? The Salesman was 40 for god’s sake, and she was 25! It was not as if they were witnessing some sort of young exciting love story. No, it was a psychopath and a brat trying to get his attention. However, he gave a cold smile towards the pair and returned to his hand, wishing this night would end already. He had no idea that it was just getting started.

After about two hours, Il-Nam announced that he would be leaving. And that was the moment, In Hu knew things were about to take a turn. Until that moment, everything between her and the Salesman were casual touches. Nothing out of the ordinary, but he was aware of her intentions to make him suffer in every way she could imagine, and he was not about to let her succeed. 

“Full house” her voice sang. 

She won. Again. It would have been impressive if it was not so annoying. Did she have to be so good at everything? In Hu thought gritting his teeth. It was unfair how natural everything came to her. She was the most interesting and exciting person he had ever met. Every single move was perfectly executed with grace laced by playfulness, her fingers intertwined with a martini glass in one hand and a cigarette in another. Every time her lips pressed to the filter fascinated the Frontman completely. Every strand of hair framing her soft features, reminding him of the night they spent together.

“Not going to lie, you guys are really boring” she said raising an eyebrow. “But since I won again, I propose the following, you each owe me a drink at a place of my choosing.” 

“And where would that be?” The Officer asked.

“Oh, I want to go dancing” she smirked as she left the martini glass on the table.

“Dancing? I would rather shoot myself” In-Hu scoffed. 

“I’m sorry, did you win? No, I didn’t think so” she said looking straight into the man’s eyes.

 If looks could kill, he would have been a dead man. 

“Well, I for one would love to take you anywhere you wanted. A deal is a deal” the Salesman added, his hand slipping on her exposed back.

While going to a club was the last thing that In Hu wanted, he was not going to let him take her out of his sight. He clenched his jaw tightly. He thought about how easy it would be to simply pull out his gun on that psychopath’s head and simply end it right now. God why did she have to make it so messy? While replaceable, he thought about the hassle he would have to go through to find another man to take his job and actually do it as well. No, killing the Salesman would only create more problems for himself, but the image of her pretty face being covered in a quick splash of his blood was tempting. 

“Fine. Let’s go.”

And now there he was, watching her like a hawk, toying with his drink, while she was dancing with someone he should had squished like a bug, the second he got in power. No matter, in all due time, he would be gone. His beautiful muse was swaying seductively to the beat of the song while playing with the Salesman’s tie, her eyes hungry for more. In Hu knew that look well. It was the same look she had in her eyes while she was on top of him just a few weeks ago. Hungry, desperate, mischievous. 

“So, are you going to do something or let that piece of trash get your woman?” the Officer inquired pulling the Frontman out of his spell.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” In Hu replied coldly downing the rest of the drink. He had asked the bartender for the whole bottle; he knew he would need it the second they entered. He lit up a cigarette while pouring another glass, his eyes still stuck on the two of them.

“Come on, you look ready to jump and kill him on the spot” the other man said lighting up a cigarette of his own. While technically not allowed on the premises of the club, what were they going to do? Kick them out? 

“Maybe I will” 

“We both know that would be unwise. And besides, I’ve seen her stealing glances at you, that is exactly what she wants. So do all of us a favor and fuck her good, cause if you don’t… I just know he would make sure she screams.”

“Mind your tongue, Officer.”

“Come on man, we both know her type. Bitches like her need to know their place.”

The second the words came out of his mouth, In hu took his cigarette from his lips swiftly and extinguished it on the back of the man’s hand. He would not have anyone speak that way, not of her. The Officer winced in surprise but did not have the courage to say another word. This was a warning.

“Next time I will not be so nice about it. Speak another ill word about her and I just might shatter a glass and cut that finger of yours off. Or better yet, your tongue.”

His eyes went back to the show in front of him. There was his woman, dancing now on the top of the bar with a bottle of Don Perignon champagne. Her smile was big and seductive, her moves perfectly rehearsed. God, the more he looked at her the more stunning she looked. Her skin glistened under the club light. Her hair once styled to perfection was bouncing around wildly to the music. She moved effortlessly, like gravity was an afterthought, and the air around her seemed taut, tethered to her presence by an invisible string.

Seeing her like that, made his heart flutter. She truly was spectacular. And for a second, she looked at him again. He could have sworn the planet stopped spinning in that moment. Everyone else fading into darkness as if they were the only two people in the world. 

“Do you believe in true love?” Her question surprised him.

It was the night they met randomly in the bar by the office. In Hu was dressed in a jet-black Versace suit, his hair slicked backed. Expensive shoes were slowly tapping to the sound of jazz music in the background. He took a moment before he responded, his face staring into his empty glass. 

“If you had asked me this 5 years ago, I would have said yes.”

“And now?”

“Only sometimes. Usually when I look at you.” 

His words surprised even himself. Maybe it was the one too many glasses of whiskey, or the way she looked at him from behind those doe eyes. Maybe it was the way her knee was slightly touching his or her scent. Amber and vanilla. Always amber and vanilla, sometimes with a faint cigarette smell. She smiled and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. If only she knew the effect she had on him, he would never hear the end of it.

“Now, Sir, maybe you should stop speaking like that or I might start to believe you are in love with me”

In Hu did not respond but a smirk appeared on his lips. He leaned over to her and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. His palm then travelled onto her cheek finally resting by her lips. She looked at him, a seductive grin taking form. Carefully, she kissed his palm, and each finger, while maintaining the Frontman’s gaze. When done with her little show, she lightly took his thumb in her mouth slowly sucking on it.

“Tsk tsk, little dove, careful what you wish for” he warned her, his face stern but feeling his heart rate go slowly upwards. 

Her eyes effortlessly left his, her attention peaked by the Salesman’s voice, breaking their trance. As soon as he no longer felt her gaze, In-Hu made up his mind. He had made a mistake, one that he would do anything to fix. While he hated the way the Officer spoke about her, he was right about one thing. She was his woman after all, and this cat and mouse game was getting old. He was man enough to admit that he had lost against her and now all he wanted was to take her to his bed and fuck her hard to show her who she belonged to. He got up the sofa just as he saw her get down from the bar. 

“Finally,” the Officer muttered.

“Did I not make myself clear last time?”

In Hu’s voice snapped glaring at his colleague, taking his eye off her for just a second. His gaze went back to the spot he had left her but she was no longer there. In the dark he saw a glint of the back of her dress leaving towards the side of the bar. The Frontman finished his drink and made his way to follow her. He was not even sure what to say to her, he had never acted impulsively before. Every single one of his actions had been perfectly calculated for the past few years. 

Lost in thought he had caught up with her. That’s when he saw the scene unfolding in front of him. Her back was pressed against the wall, her hands folded around the Salesman’s neck, fingers tangled into his dark black hair. His woman’s legs were resting around his torso. He could make out the man’s face buried deep into her neck kissing it sloppily, her head tilted slightly on the side, a soft moan escaping her beautiful lips. And then she looked straight ahead into In Hu’s eyes. A sarcastic smile played on her mouth. Fuck you, her eyes said before capturing the Recruiter’s lips in a passionate kiss, her beautiful legs pulling him in closer to her own body.

The Frontman froze for a few seconds as he watched them kiss as if there was no tomorrow, their bodies busy in a seductive tango. Anger and jealousy danced within his veins fueling his body completely. Not now, he thought desperately trying to keep his mask of coldness from cracking under the club lights. But deep inside he also felt the familiar sting of a feeling he long ago buried. 

Pain. Gut wrenching pain. 

[ohburgee]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

yandere!general x civilian!reader

tw: yandere themes, obsession, stalking, violence, death, murder, mentioned police brutality an: before reading the story, the place takes in a dystopian future and has this aesthetic of dieselpunk, this plot is almost a part of my upcoming fanfic story but I changed my mind. Also, I'll be a bit late to post a new story because I'm back at my school :')

"You should take a rest" you heard your boss the owner of the library "No it's fine I don't have anything to do," you said smiling at him and he sighed and smiled back.

As you finish arranging the books on the shelf cleaning the dust around and serving some customers after the long work it is finally night and you bid goodbye to your boss as you get out of the library building.

And walked through the street and a vehicle passed by as you walked and a few people also walking, while walking you noticed something on your back and you quickly turned around and saw nothing.

You shrugged yourself and thought you were just paranoid about what happened yesterday.

A guy try to kidnap you and probably going to rape you thankfully the armored guards are there and notice the taller one their leader came and bends to your height.

"Are alright my lady?" He asks his deep husky voice ringing in your ears maybe due to his armored helmet it sounds robotic.

You slowly nodded your head and he didn't back away from you, "I need words" he said his helmet staring at your face.

"Yes I'm fine just-" Before you could speak he yelled at his people to take the guy who assaulted you and he turned around to look at you.

And he noticed your wound on your right arm and he grabbed your arm and inspected the wound, "It's fine it's just not worse" you said as you took off your arm from his hand.

He insists on taking you to the medic and you give in and accept it since you don't want to take trouble from this taller armored man in front of you. He can tear you apart if you say no.

He takes you to the medic, after checking and treating your wound you're finally got out and the armored man follows behind you.

A vehicle stopped in front of you "Take this lady to her home" he said as he walked in front of you "You don't need to" "No it's for your safety please" he said and you nodded and got in the and he looked at you with admiring.

Well, that happens and now you are very aware of your surroundings and not going to let that situation happen again.

After a few minutes of walking, you reach your apartment you pass by the small shop behind you and greet the old man who is sitting on the counter and give him a piece of snack well it's a gratitude for him after he saves you from the debts.

After that you walk upstairs to your apartment unlock the door close behind then lock it, you sigh and are very tired from your work.

You lay on the sofa and take some rest not bother going to your bed you're just very tired.

...

Seeing you like it's peaceful, he didn't know how he got his attention to you, you're just a librarian who works in the library at the center of the city.

After going to the library to investigate he sees you walking around the hall with the pile books wrapped around your arms as you try to balance with your body.

He admires your beautiful delicate self walking and after talking with the owner before he gets out of the library he takes one glance at you, as you are on top of the ladder arranging the books on the shelf. and got out.

But after an hour of guarding the city with his men, he saw you struggling with the man and he quickly ran towards you and grabbed the guy he noticed your wound that made his anger rage and he wanted to rip the man's face.

He shrugged the thoughts and focused on you he would do that later, after that he took you to the medic building, and after being treated he called someone to take you home, he didn't want you to be hurt and assaulted.

After a few days, he was mindless thinking that you might get hurt again so he decided to stalk you everywhere you go and even take his men to watch over you when he was busy on his import duty.

And now he followed you as you walked through the street and you caught your attention and turned around, and he immediately lowered his head.

You turn and continue walking and he looks at you peacefully as he notices a man following you, "You are really making me worried my dove" as he gets out of the vehicle and follows the guy.

He grabbed the guy's shoulder and slammed his body to the wall as he grabbed his head with his bare hand and squeezed his eyes, he doesn't care about people who do bad things also to you, he doesn't care about slaughtering people that's his job after all.

After that he followed you through your apartment and saw you are very kind and saw you giving something to the old man in the shop, you are very perfect and that is the reason he is obsessed with your kindness.

He takes the risk and walks upstairs and now in front of your apartment room gladly he is not on his armored and on his regular uniform.

He easily opened your apartment door and slowly opened it and he got in without sound and he slowly carefully walked inside his eyes wide and mouth gasping but quickly turned into a smirk seeing you peacefully sleeping on your sofa.

He tried to make a small sound that doesn't make you wake up and he thinks you are tired from your work or maybe a sleep heavier.

He slowly approaches you sleeping on the sofa as he kneels down to see your face clearly he watches you slowly breathe and slowly humping off your chest.

You look beautiful and adorable, he wanted to see you sleeping peacefully in his bed, when after his duty and gets home, he will get this beautiful face and always admire it.

God, you look so very beautiful he can't stop thinking about that.

Imagine if you were his lover he would carry you to bed and lay you down there, the sofa is too small for you and you should be sleeping in your bed, imagine lecturing you to be organized and careful with yourself as if he was your husband telling his wife.

But that those just imagination you are not his and you are in your own freedom.

He slowly touched your hair caressing it as if he was overly obsessed with your appearance, he wanted you and he wanted you now.

He had an idea, a plan he didn't want to get you by force didn't want you to be hated by you and get crept out so he had a brilliant idea.

...

You slowly open your eyes as you slowly get up and you realize you are on your sofa, you slept here even though you have your own bed you yawn and before you can walk through your kitchen you hear a loud knock on your door. Are those officers i know they knock loudly when they come to houses.

You walk towards your door and slowly open it to see two officers in front of you, you gulp and start to feel nervous, "Is there anything you want?" you ask wanting to know why they are here.

"We have a warrant of arrest for you, Ms," one of the officers said and you began to panic as you tried to remember, that you didn't do anything wrong you avoided any legal, and issued things.

"Warrant for what? I didn't do anything" You tried to excuse yourself or try to make yourself innocent.

"For the murder of the daughter of the high lord," they said as they mentioned the name, it's your friend before but you and her never get to talk after a conflict and your eyes widened "Why me, I didn't do anything to her, I'm her friend, not an enemy" you now encourage them to believe you, before you could add more words there's a footstep coming and you saw your boss looking worried to you.

He came closer to you and took both hands to his, "I'm sorry they suspect you for her murder, since there's a footage of you" he said and that made you shocked you didn't even do it.

You were her friend before but after knowing she was one of the daughters of high lords you cut off ties with her because of her role and not wanting to be involved in politics.

You didn't argue as you and your boss went to the station to confirm everything when they showed the footage to you, you saw someone who really looked like you as the person, the impostor stab your friend your eyes widened.

"As much as this footage can take as evidence," one of the soldiers said as you looked at them with merciful eyes, "Please that's not me, that's an imposter or just have the same appearance as me, please" you try to plead but they ignore and proceed to prepare your file.

This is why you don't want to get involved in something if those merciless officers catch you, you'll never come back to your normal life as their hands around you.

One of the officers came to you and led you to the cell as you looked at your boss trying to plead but he started to tears and kept saying he couldn't do anything, he was right there's nothing can do.

As the officer pushes you inside the cell and locks it you look at them with furious and worry, you kneel down on the ground and start to cry, you can't do anything if you try again to plead they won't listen to you, you pull your knees to your chest as you hugged them.

After a while of sleeping, you fell asleep due to your tiredness and pressure also with your small cries, you didn't get to eat breakfast as they took you.

Suddenly you heard footsteps coming closer you didn't bother to look at you didn't want to waste your time and cries of plead then a voice spoke.

"Trouble my dove" You slowly looked up and saw the armored guard leader as you saw the familiar face, you quickly got up and tried to plead at him.

"Please help me, I swear that was not me, I'm innocent and no crime is involved," you said as you started to cry hoping he could listen to you, "I know you didn't do it," he said as he looked at you.

"But your friend's death won't be easy" he added as he crossed his arms to his chest "The footage is not real someone trying to frame you," he said and your eyes widened yes that's true you are very innocent, you won't do that to your friend. As you heard someone framed you as a suspect.

"Please can you convince them that I'm innocent, please I'll do anything just let me have my freedom," you said trying to plead with him to convince the officers after he heard those words his serious face turned into a smirk, and walk closer to you.

"Anything?" he asked again and you nodded you know it's stupid but your life indicates here and your freedom.

"Be my consort" he replies and you look shocked at what he said, consort as mean like a wife or lover, "I know but it's the right thing to do, you are against high roles you know how powerful they are compared to your role" he said and he was right you were just low rank.

"Becoming my companion you'll have my name and half of my power as my wife," he said as he looked at you like the only pieces of hope, you look down you don't want to be married or as much as you don't want to be in this brutal politics but your life is in danger and you need your freedom.

"And I'll help you erase you in this case I just need your acceptance" he added as he waited for your answers, you sighed in defeat your life is more important you nodded and he smiled and told you he would tell the officers.

After a minute one officer came to you and unlocked the cell you got out and saw the leader you slowly approached him, "As my consort you'll be living with me and you have to abandon your low life" he said as he put his hands to your back as he leads you out the station.

When you both out and walked towards his vehicle he stopped and looked at you as he towered to you, "Also with my protection, if anyone tries to hurt you they will face consequences," he said and you slowly nodded your head and suddenly hugged you, you don't get any action about since you are very tired and not enough energy to think.

"You're safe with me", he said as he finally held you and his face smiled in victory, his plans turned successful. He let one of the guards imposter you and kill your friend, it was actually part of the authority to kill the daughter since the father was a threat to this world, and he added you to capture it successfully.

He can now always see you and touch you, and you will be forever with him even when the truth comes out he will take you back in force, when you have his name there's no turning back, you are his and forever will be.

[joelmillerisapunk]

OH MY GOD??? The intensity here is unreal. This fic punches you in the gut and refuses to let go, it’s suffocating in the best way. The tension between the reader and Javier is so raw, so visceral, it feels like you’re standing in the room with them, choking on the unbearable weight of heartbreak and desire. The intricate web of emotions is just chef's kiss—anger, betrayal, obsession, need—it’s all laid bare, tangled in this messy, intoxicating relationship.

The prose is so vivid and detailed that you can practically feel the damp heat of the shower, the sharp sting of the reader’s heartbreak, and the way Javier’s presence overwhelms everything like a tidal wave. The moral ambiguity is written so perfectly—it’s masochistic, it’s destructive, but it’s also undeniably human.

The way the story captures Javier’s complexity—his arrogance, his fragility—is pure poetry. And the reader’s inner turmoil? That delicate balance of anger and longing, her refusal to let go even when she knows she should? It’s painfully relatable in the best (and worst) way.

The sex isn’t just sex—it’s this volatile, emotional battleground where their love and hate collide. It’s messy, flawed, and oh-so-human. The power dynamics, the desperation, the unspoken confessions buried in every kiss, every thrust—this is messy, it’s painful, it’s addictive. You’ve written something that just lingers with you long after reading. Freckles!!!! You’ve wrecked me, and I’m thanking you for it. Honestly, I need a cigarette (I don't smoke), a drink, and maybe therapy after this. Some of my fave lines cause the entire thing is my favorite <3

You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationship Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground. His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable. You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart You come, weeping. Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.But there’s no hope anymore. You know you can’t go on like that.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel. There will be two broken hearts.  You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. None of this happens. The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[irradiatedsnakes]

little billy is an existential threat to dialtown's very universe and i can prove it: a game theory

i dont trust this little beast.

prior to the roger dlc i didn't think a whole lot of him. he's fun, he's funny, the whole colossal billy bit is great. but i didn't consider him much, his greater role in the story. his whole fabron-virus deal in the roger good route got me to reconsider..basically everything about him, including stuff on the extras pages & his appearances in mingling scenes in ch3.

i think that little billy is aware of dialtown's universe/reality on a level most characters aren't, more similar to gingi and god. colossal billy, on some level, i believe is absolutely real, and has connections to the nothing beyond the edges of dt's reality. a few points, ordered from (imo) least to most substantiated:

1. billy is one of few characters that ever break the fourth wall

dialtown has a lot of fourth wall breaks. gingi, in some fashion, is aware of the various branching routes the game can take, it references other routes frequently, they're aware of the merged-ch3-timeline being weird in some sense. they're responsible for the vast majority of fourth wall breaks in the game. god, of course, does, like his UI-hijack during one of the mingling scenes. other than those two, fourth wall breaks are few and far between (i think norm does one?), so i think it's significant that billy does it at least twice.

firstly is the mingling scene where he keeps interrupting mingus from having the last word in, specifically referencing the screen fading to black:

secondly, and i think more notably (since mingus does kind of do it herself there), is in the roger route, in the ending where you swallow the usb stick and shit yourself and die. in addition to all the other ominous bullshit, there's this line:

which, yeah, end card. not much else to say there.

admittedly, i do think this is the weakest point here on its own- as mentioned before, mingus and norm do break the fourth wall on their own at some point in time, i believe once each. that being said, i do think it helps build a case for billy's awareness of dialtown's reality as we move forward to the next points, and is very relevant in the context of the rest of billy's everything.

2. god is afraid of little billy (and given who else god is afraid of, that worries me)

okay, so, god. fascinating guy. i think some of the most interesting stuff about him is what unsettles him. according to god, time in dialtown's universe works like a straight line- rather than how we might usually conceptualize the branching paths of time (or, say, branching routes in a visual novel) like a tree, time in DT is a straight line. a timeline begins, happens, ends, and another begins, happens with minute differences, and ends, so on.

god isn't omniscient, he's just a guy whose been around for an unfathomable amount of time, experiencing timeline after timeline, start to finish. he knows things that are about to happen (mingling gravel bit) because he's seen so much shit that basically everything becomes predictable.

ergo, the things that scare god are things that he can't predict, things that he doesn't understand. case in point, he finds gingi's existence as being exclusive to dt's timeline unsettling:

what else is god scared of? well, callum crown, of course.

whatever callum did to enact the dialup is something that messed with the very fabric of reality- so much so that god himself is beholden to the objecthead rule- and that "scare[s him] shitless".

yknow who else god is scared shitless of?

yeah.

3. billy is directly linked to enc0unter, plus the whole event in which he Hacked An Entire Man

firstoff, just to go over the enc0unter connections here.

most obvious is the eyes and teeth motif, and the images in the background (seen on the monitors in fabron's room and omair's shop) being THE enc0unter image, which has been said to be representative of weak spots in dialtown's (crumbling) reality. keep this passage in mind for later.

worth noting, fabron's font while possessed is special elite- the only other time in the game this font is used is in enc0unter's scene. in addition to the literal eyes and teeth images being used, the motif is reinforced in fabron's dialogue, further drawing a connection between colossal billy and enc0unter:

("many eyes always watching", notably, also being something scrawled on the side of norm's shack, presumably by norm, alongside the warning about not drinking the water (on account of the lead). "many eyes always gazing" is also one of the possible menu quotes that can appear.)

keep the big blink line in mind for later.

i think the severity of what billy was able to do with his little virus is also notable. like, and i don't think i can put enough emphasis on this, little billy hacked a man. he hijacked a human person's entire shit. he made images appear on broken monitors that weren't plugged in. he made a virus so powerful it instantly spread to every computer in town. it fucked up the radio, it fucked up the phone lines. you shouldn't just be able to do that- billy has a frightening amount of power.

3.5. a couple other scattered observations

3.5a in dietown, little billy immediately goes full eldritch. additionally, regular-timeline billy appears to be in some way aware of this, as his codename in the ransomware is xXBelothXx, little bel'oth being his name in dietown. worth noting dietown tracks are also used for the ransomware scenes.

3.5b color symbolism is extremely important in dialtown, chief among that being the use of purple (and green, but especially purple). all of the members of the mingling (save for god) have some element of purple in their designs- for most of them, that's clothing: stabby and shooty and abel all have their suits, bunny has his shirt, while theoroar has his bandana. billy's head is purple- the only one whose purple element is PART of them and not just something they're wearing. given the significance of purple in the rest of the game (glados voice) i just thought that was interesting

4. pulling it all together

so, what does this all mean?

well, dialtown's reality is in trouble. the constitution of dt's universe has been in trouble for a long time- hell, the wormhole existed even before the dialup. but i think it's safe to say that whatever fundamental rule of reality callum grabbed and fucked around with to enact the dialup in the first place has had knock-on effects for the stability of the timeline (remember that whole thing about how timelines have definitive starts and ends? yeah).

i believe billy is a symptom of this breakdown. when fabron is possessed he says "the big blink" is coming.. now, i don't know if billy is truly something From Beyond or if he's just some shithead kid who somehow got a glimpse into things people shouldn't see (i favor the latter, personally), but the way i see it.. i think what little billy calls colossal billy, is, or is closely related in some fashion to, enc0unter.

enc0unter is nothing. it's beyond the edge of the universe, all the Somethings, it's the opposite of things existing.

which, imo, is why it's represented by eyes, teeth, and faces.

when the dialup happened, eyes, teeth, faces- these things ceased to exist. they were deleted from reality, they became nothing, so that's why the nothing IS the eyes and teeth of everyone on earth, why it's eyes and teeth that appear where reality wears thin and begins to crack.

i don't know exactly what enc0unter is Doing, or what the culminating event, the bomb-under-the-table exploding, the big blink is going to actually look like. but i don't think it'll be good, and i think that billy is very interested in that eventuality.

now, billy's own personal motivations? pure malarkey. i don't think he's part of some big plan, or anything like that- his favorite activity is tormenting the cashier at the local cinema, and his big scary hackerman deal was intentionally foiled by just removing a usb stick from a computer. he sets the town on fire just for fun. little billy just wants to see the world burn for a laff, and i fear that when "the big blink" does come, that might be exactly what he gets.

thanks for reading. bozo

[tactical-jellyfish]

The Mistakes That Have Been Made

Warnings!: Angst, angst, and more angst. Reader will be MAD sad for most of this. Poorly-practiced, unhealthy polyamory. Reader will experience a LOT of gender and body dysphoria over the course of this (though I will do my best to keep it gender-neutral throughout, bear with me), but there WILL be comfort over that.

Shout out! This fic was inspired in part by the lovely @cielosafeplace's post. I will be taking liberties, but the bones are all from there. Thanks again for letting me use this, friend <3

Since you were young, you've been very aware that you aren't like very many other people. That's fine, really. Being weird is no sin, or at least, not one you care about. If you happened to have crushes who happened to overlap, that was no one's business but your own.

That being said, the yearning, gooey parts of you were something that you never did entertain, for your own sake.

Still, when there were four men who all seemed not just willing, but enthusiastic to fill in those needs, of course you let them.

Of course, why wouldn't you? When Kyle kissed you so nicely, when he took you apart to heal you back together? When Johnny showed you passions that you'd been missing out on? When Ghost had you at his side, with the lights off and the blankets warm? Why wouldn't you let them have you?

They were your team anyway, those four made damn well sure you were alright.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Actually, that might be too nice a judgement.

You know your team has been... very upset with you, lately.

Most of that is your fault. It was a bad call, and Ghost nearly got shot coming to help you. Really, you do understand that anger, but it's gotten lonely.

Price has stopped talking to you outside of orders, just like Ghost. Johnny gave you a verbal lashing you might never forget, and Kyle scowled at you in a way that made you head inside your room for the rest of the day just to avoid him.

It's been a couple days, and you're still on a very short list with all of them.

But something's off.

It doesn't hurt too badly yet, you must admit, but something feels like it's wrong.

A bit of pain, near the center of your belly, right below the navel. Sure, you're grown, you've had your bellyaches. It's not too bad, but it's a sort of new that you don't trust. Not even a little bit.

So, you go to your captain. Of course you do. He's got the most power, why shouldn't you?

Smooth, dark wood knocks clear and sharp under your knuckles, and a gruff "Come in." is all the command you need.

"Hey, Price. I was going to ask-"

"Is there a reason you saw fit to come in during the busiest week of the year not on fire?"

The interruption makes you still as the pain fades just a bit, seemingly also slinking away as the nervousness takes root.

Sure, you might have made a wrong call last mission, but were they this upset with you?

"Uh- I wanted to ask you something-"

You shouldn't be nervous. Price is your captain. He's just a little grumpy, nothing more. He'll answer, or he'll know who to ask. You're one of his, he shouldn't hate you.

"Find someone else, then. Your incompetence isn't my problem."

You know better than to disobey that tone, even as the prickle of pain returns to you, so you shut the door.

It feels a little worse now, and an uncomfortable tightness rises as you step back, but it's easy enough to push away with a deep breath or two.

Alright. Ghost might know. He's not under the pressure Price is, making up for your mistake.

So, you seek out your lieutenant.

He's in the gym. Training rookies, but it seems you've gotten lucky, because he's just told the newbies to spar each other, and is currently watching over them.

The sharp spike of hot pain makes you gasp a little bit, but your voice calling to him is what makes the man turn.

"Ghost."

"Yes, Crash?"

Your callsign makes you smile, just a little bit, but his tone doesn't. He sounds... really stern, more upset than he usually is when he's on training duty.

"I think something might be off, my stomach's hurting and-"

The relief of finally getting to tell someone about this odd pain is cut as you're, once more, interrupted before you can finish.

"Take a painkiller."

Okay, now this is getting annoying to you.

"I already have, you're not-"

"Not your bloody nursemaid, that's what I'm not."

His voice rises in a way that makes you swallow once more. The way you brace a foot behind you makes the ache come back, flaring in your gut, a bit lower this time. It's so loud a few of the recruits turn to look, one or two snickering, making shame and anger roil in your hurting stomach.

Your silence seems to allow for more speech from the man, because the scowl you just know is under his mask hardens, and his voice gets even louder, purposely projecting so the full gaggle of rookies can hear him.

"It's not my responsibility to take care of a faulty informations "Specialist". If you're not going to be useful, leave."

He says your job title like it's a fucking joke, goes to the efforts of doing air-quotes around it. The rookies laugh like it is one.

The shame and anger meld into an ugly thing, burning behind your eyes and making the stabbing pain just that much worse. You understand. They're angry, you did something stupid. That's fine. The fact that Ghost deemed it necessary to shoot you down like that in from of the fucking rookies is shitty.

But that's still your lieutenant. And you're still bound by his word. So you do leave, return to the small space you call your office and see if this is something that you can ride out.

Maybe you were being some sort of dramatic, maybe nothing was ever hurting, even if you feel it getting worse by the hour.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That might have been the worst mistake you've made in your life, because here you are, bent over the toilet, emptying your guts again.

You're losing track of how many times you've watched the swirling bowl swallow your vomit just to be refilled, but you feel abysmal, bad enough to check your phone for the fifth time this hour as the thing sits on just one percent of its usual battery.

An unread text sits on the screen, sent to a group chat cheekily titled "the sergeants" by one John MacTavish.

Something's wrong, please come help me

Delivered, but not responded to. Neither are picking up their phones.

Fuck. This isn't good.

The nausea has started to pass, but the pain hasn't. It feels like a hot spear is jabbing into your abdomen, lighting up the entire right side with a burning pain that's only starting to intensify further.

It hurts so fucking bad, every breath is a harder task than the last. You can't bear to rise from your haunches. The movement would be too much, it would make the pain spike to a level you know you can't handle. Pressing your hands to the pain that's stabbing into you is useless, but you do it anyway.

The realization that something is very wrong sinks in, and you can't help the fact that you start to cry. When you turn to try and send another text, a more urgent plea, your phone shuts off with a dead, black screen.

You think you might be dying. It's only getting worse, and the door's locked. No one's coming to help you. You're alone, and your dead brick of a phone won't fix that.

Crying is doing nothing to help you. In fact, it makes the pain worse, but there's no logic left for you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The thing that pulls you from this is a quiet rapping on the bathroom door.

"Hey, um, are you good? You're kind of- crying."

It's not a voice you don't know. Awkward and fumbling, like they haven't used it in a while, and a little raspy. You choke a word of thanks as the pain spikes again, and sob once more.

"It fucking hurts. Please get a medic."

Your own voice is wet, it feels foreign to you. But thank the stars, the message gets across really well to whoever's on the other side.

A thick-soled boot makes quick work of the lock with the force of a good kick, and there's the rustling of clothes next to you. You don't move to look.

Almost delicate hands (when compared to your own team, of course) cup your own, putting just a bit too much pressure on the lower right side of your pained body and making your breaths trip again.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, just- I'm going to pick you up, okay? I- you look really bad."

His voice is gentle, the softest you've heard in the service. It's a relief to you, and you nod shakily as he hauls you up into comfortable arms, walking you over to the base's medical room as fast as possible without jostling you.

You'll admit that the next hour or so is... blurry, to you.

You remember the medic looking not-that-concerned when you came in, pressing their hand to your belly, the lower right side. When you whined in pain, they started looking worried.

Soon after, you were introduced to the emergency surgeon. She wasn't really clear, and kind of strict, but getting your stomach pumped was not a fun experience.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking up from anesthesia is an ugly, uncomfortable thing, but you know the feeling while it hits you.

Your eyes are bleary, too-dry and unfocused, and your head is fuzzy with more than the anesthetic itself. Pain meds. Feels like... awful.

There's a little gasp when your eyes open, and you glance to the side to see maybe the last person you thought you would.

Not Price, or Ghost, or Soap or Gaz. No, it's the soft-handed, quiet voiced man, sitting in the chair and staring at you.

You're not sure what you expected, but you're not greeted verbally. It's an excited wave, followed by a lot of British Sign Language.

"I'm... I'm sorry, luv. I only learned how to finger-spell back in basics."

He doesn't look too dejected, which is honestly a relief. He switches over seamlessly, taking the individual letters slowly, for your sake.

It's okay. He spells the words slowly, forming the letters cleanly and precisely with practiced fingers that tell you he's been doing this for some time. You had appendicitis. The nurse said you were really lucky to get here when you did, and that they called your captain to tell him you'll be out for a day or so.

"Oh."

The cocktail of painkillers mutes your reaction, lowers it from sheer rage to a simple, tired acceptance. In that moment, you don't question why you're alone, sans this stranger. You just soak it in, really.

"What's your name, then?"

Gary.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

He looks confused, but spells it again for you, slower this time.

"No, I know your name is Gary, I'm just sorry."

You realize what you say the second it leaves your mouth, and shut your eyes to cope with the mortification. Instead, you hear a giggle, followed by a laugh.

It's a squeaky thing, Gary's laughter. He only seems to make noise when he draws in the breath, and it makes a high-pitched, slightly raspy sound, like he's taken damage to the voice box or throat before. You would liken it to a dying goose, if you were meaner.

I like you. We should talk more.

He's smiling. He's looking at you and he is smiling. It makes you feel useful again, like there is still something to be salvaged of the errors you cause.

You do, in fact, talk more with him.

A lot more.

[miruscenic]

𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢����. kento never thought he would be one for domesticity, until you came.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. nanami kento x gn!reader, soft soft fluff, a bit of angst on kento's part, first writing post on this blog :)) enjoy !!

Kento Nanami has a hard time believing that domesticity was a possibility for him. 

It was his pipe dream ever since he’d chosen to become a sorcerer, despite his aversion to both this job and the soul-breaking desk job. He hates the monotony, and he hates the danger he puts himself in, and he despises the concept of overtime. Because, really, who enjoys working more hours with no increase to the pay? It irks him terribly, but work is work. If he can find stability in the form of money or a career, then it was enough to keep him alive.

It was enough, but it didn’t satisfy him.

He’s come to enjoy some of the mundanely comforting moments during his salaryman days and his gradual return to the Jujutsu world— from the sweet girl manning the counter in his favorite bakery, who knows him well enough that his sandwich is finished being prepared within minutes to the silence he basks in until he inevitably has to stare blearily at his laptop screen during ungodly hours. They were welcome distractions from the emptiness he so often felt, and yet, it still felt like he was going through the motions.

Kento had money, but no means of defining his purpose. His desires of settling down pushed to the backburner, dreams of a golden-eyed child crushed by surrounding deaths and lecherous bosses who saw him as nothing more than a cog of a bigger machine. The only sign of the life he could’ve given himself were the books slowly gathering dust, pictures of the calming beaches of Kuantan a stark contrast to the rigidness of his home.

He didn’t understand how easy it was to let someone in. Someone like you, of all people. More importantly, he didn’t realize just how fearful it made him, now that he’d returned to his life of jujutsu sorcery. 

Looking forward to you was jarring, at first—it took Kento a while to get used to not doing everything alone. Though there wasn’t anything he could complain about being by himself—it was his preferred way of life, in the first place—it did start to feel like this was all he would ever do until the light blonde of his hair turned gray. 

But now, he’s making stops at places he never thought he would visit so casually. He’d made a note to get your lunch from the resto you came to during your first date, snagging your favorite drink from the cafe and almost risking his daily commute on the train. Kento was a man with limitations, but he found himself so pleasantly amused when he ran errands for you. It felt like something he would willingly do rather than come home battered and with a gash in his newly dry-cleaned shirt. 

But even that was a part of his life that you gradually took over. Frequent dates turned into visits to each other’s home, then those sporadic visits turned into sleepovers, often falling into a deep slumber after indulging yourselves in meaningful heart-to-hearts. That would soon culminate into calm knocks on your door one night only to reveal Kento practically limping and his side mangled. 

He felt a lump in his throat then, at the look of horror on your usually pleasant face, but he knew he felt like tearing up when you’d been so gentle with his wounds, inquiring him about what went wrong. It didn’t feel correct to answer your question; what happened to him was out of your awareness, the dangers of his job was a secret until it wasn’t. How was he supposed to explain that a humanoid manifestation of humanity’s hatred for each other—a rather ugly one, to be certain—was very close to ending his life, and how incredibly lucky he was to even manage to limp back to you?

Never mind the hatred simmering in Kento’s chest, not when he was too caught off guard by your generosity to even air out his grievances. All that mattered was that he still had you, time to get to know and love you better. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing he’s left you confused and grieving. 

“Just so you know, I wouldn’t have a problem with crawling back to you if I was more injured than this.” He’d murmured once you were close enough to feel his breath fan against your chin. To this day, Kento isn’t sure what prompted him to be so sentimental, all he knew was that he had all the right reasons to lean in and leave a light peck on your lips right after.

Nothing could’ve really prepared him for the following morning, after a night of endless persistence that he could take the latest train back home. 

Kento was more used to bringing his own things when you ask him to stay over, but waking up in the foreign but cozy texture of one of your shirts and a pair of faded sweatpants wasn’t something to complain about. He’d felt his heartbeat spike at the thought of running late to work, but the slight dimness of the room suggested that he’d woken up a bit after dawn broke. 

The firmness of the bandages around his torso paired with the mild soreness of his wounds weren’t exactly the most comfortable, but Kento had managed to pull himself out of his sleeping situation groggily, pushing the door open. He was starting to wonder where you’d gone, despite his prior knowledge of your own early bird tendencies. It instantly warmed his heart to see you bathed in brighter morning light, quietly watching the coffee maker. In his peripherals, he could see his formerly bloodied suit neatly folded on the couch.

At this point, it wasn’t uncommon for the both of you to start your mornings steadily, though there was something different about this particular one. Stillness fell upon your home, with neither of you showing signs of hurrying just yet.The only audible sounds were the whirs of the coffee maker, followed by Kento beelining towards your direction. You looked lovely, with your head perched on your arms, bent down to be at eye level with the machine.

Kento could only huff out an amused sigh, letting one of his hands rest upon your shoulder as an indicator that he was finally awake. Instead of the usual shock that graced your features, it felt as though you were indulging in the light touch. Slowly but surely, you’re leaning back up to rest your back against his chest, your smaller hand wrapping around his that was still perched on your shoulder. 

The weight was so, so comforting, especially when you’d leaned your head against his shoulder, a toothy smile on your lips. Kento thinks you look rather adorable upside-down, he couldn’t help but leave another affectionate kiss on your forehead when you’d whispered, “Good morning, Ken.”

Now the man was completely left unguarded, with a lovely little thing resting against him and the sunlight softly filtering in through the windows. He doesn’t dare pull away, only brings you to face him instead so you’re more comfortable. Perhaps this was growth—he wasn’t irked by the prospect of slowing down with a companion anymore, despite the deep-seated fear of having so much to lose. 

But he could get used to this. A time when he could just bask in his more human side without worrying about work or death, a time when he could just let himself be without the need to explain himself. Because you understood him, you were willing to understand him from the very beginning. All this was possible, because he believed that something good would come out of letting someone like you in.

Kento decides that he likes this sensation and, for once, he would like for it to stay.  

I’m quite good at being domestic and romantic, don’t you think, darling? 

brought to you by MIRUSCENIC © 2025. all rights reserved.

[sosuigeneris]

Going by your post about daughters in high society being all-rounders, are they expected to learn certain languages, follow literary canons or maybe know specific geopolitical happenings? Is it a specific set of skills & information or is it more on a general knowledge basis?

you should definitely know your country’s language and English. Most competent girls I’ve noticed fall in two categories - either they’re extremely strong in arts (classic literature, art, music, food, essentially creative stuff) or STEM and finance.

as an overall, one normally has a general range of soft skills - the ability to converse with ease, socially confident, “respectful”, poised etc.

There are certain cheat codes to achieve this ^ and make it seem like you’re really an all rounder in the short term. Obviously in the long term you’ll have to work on your skills if you haven’t, but here’s what you can do. 1. Study the most common socially asked questions

How are you?

Where did you go for college/ uni?

What do you do?

Where have you travelled lately?

do you know about ….. ?

do you know XYZ person?

What are your hobbies?

and practice, practice these answers. Here’s your objective : to come across as knowledgeable, friendly and rational. don’t for instance, speak negatively about anyone or any experience. Instead of saying “oh my god this experience was absolutely ghastly” say “this is what I really liked and this is what I felt could be better.” You are seen as a refined woman then, not a bitchy teen. Use a wide range of vocabulary- CORRECTLY. Practice it so that it seems natural to you. Even fairly common words like “apt, apprehensive, sentient, derelict” - can make you seem a lot more polished than “so true, unsure, alive, run down”.

2. Be aware of three of the biggest news stories before any social event. Be it a dinner, party, a baby’s christening, anything. and here’s what will make you stand out - know those 2-3 stories in detail. In the age of people simply skimming over news and not making the effort to dig deeper, knowing something very well is an instant giveaway of being well read. For instance, Trump and the birthright citizenship situation. Something that an average person (especially if they are not American) may not know is that lots of non- American pregnant women - mostly Indian - in the US have begun approaching doctors to have their babies premature before the Feb 20 deadline. Now, when I mentioned that at an event recently in India, people were surprised. I was able to bring value, information to the table that no one else really knew about.

So when you speak, you want to drop a nugget of value. What you don’t want to do is get very high and mighty - you have to drop this information nonchalantly, as if you know everything. Nonchalance will give you bonus points.

3. Listen more than you speak… ATTENTIVELY. You cannot break eye contact, don’t lose focus. Nod slowly, tilt your head slightly, back straight, shoulders and hips turned towards the person who is speaking. Don’t rush and don’t rush them.

practice these small things even with your friends, school, teachers, workplace - to make something a habit, you need to practice it anywhere and everywhere. You can’t just be polished to one group of people, you must be polished to all.

4. Always approach the women/ aunties / mothers first. Compliment them genuinely. And then greet the man. The only times I break this rule is if the man is decades older, is someone I know very well, is a friend of my parents’, or if I know him better than his wife.

5. you won’t be expected to cook and clean and all that, these days it’s not really an expectation. And also, unless you want to attract men like that and you want to be that person too, it doesn’t make sense.

[mcrdvcks]

—what is this feeling?

summary: You and Peter have known each other since you were kids—only because you were friends with his distant cousin Olivia. While you have harbored a crush on him for years, you're sure he doesn't feel the same.

word count: 16.2k+ (31.6k+ total)

pairing: Peter Lyman x fem!reader

notes: i watched scoop (2006) for the first time a week-ish ago and i needed to write something with peter. it's kinda canon to the movie—in the sense that it follows a tiny bit of the story, mainly just the parties that were shown.

this was actually a bit hard to write, i kept second guessing myself wondering if i got his character right or not. i hope i did, bc this is a roller coaster. and also, be sure to look at the tags, because when i say toxic peter lyman, i mean it. and please don't ask how this is 32k words, i have no idea how it happened 😅

since it is so long, there are two parts to this since tumblr has a word limit!

warnings/tags: loosely follows event of scoop (2006) but not canon, miscommunication, shy!reader, slow burn, jealousy, angst, mention of murder/death, toxic peter lyman, but also sweet peter lyman (the duality of man), happy ending, not proofread

⁠♡ part 2 ♡

You looked away from the mirror at your friend Olivia, who just got off the phone. “I’m sorry. I can’t go tonight. My boss just called about a work emergency and it’s all hands-on deck.”

“Oh.” You replied, setting down your lipstick, one you thankfully hadn’t applied yet. “Well, I guess I’ll get out of your hair and go back to my pla—”

Olivia gasped, holding you by the shoulders. “What? No, you’re going to that concert.”

Your eyebrows rose and you stuttered, “but—”

She cut you off with a grin, “c’mon, it’ll give you time to bond with Peter.” Olivia drawled.

You felt your cheeks heat up, “I don’t…” You trailed off, looking away from her and focusing on the wall behind her. There was a small blotch of white paint on her tan wall.

“You’ve spent a lot of time with him. Ever since we were kids.”

"Yeah, but he’s your cousin," you interjected, hoping Olivia would drop it.

Olivia rolled her eyes, squeezing your shoulders for emphasis. “Seriously, Y/N, it’s Peter. He’s nice, he likes you, and you’ve been to a million family things with him. What’s the big deal?”

You frowned, shaking her hands off. “It’s different, okay? You’re usually there, or someone else is. I don’t—I just feel awkward when it’s just the two of us.”

She gave you a knowing smirk, leaning against the doorframe. “Awkward, huh? Or are you worried you’ll stutter every time he so much as looks at you?”

“I don’t—” you started to protest, but Olivia laughed.

“You do. You totally do.”

You crossed your arms, cheeks burning. “Can we not do this right now? I’ll just tell him you can’t make it, and we’ll both skip—problem solved.”

Olivia groaned and grabbed her coat. “Nope, not happening. He’s already on his way to pick us up. You’re going. You’re putting on that lipstick. And you’re going to sit through the concert without spontaneously combusting.”

“Liv!” you whined, but she just winked, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Have fun!” she chirped, then disappeared out the door before you could come up with a good excuse to chase her down.

---

Peter arrived about fifteen minutes later, sharp as ever in a tailored black coat and that impossibly confident smile. You opened the door, trying not to feel self-conscious under his gaze.

“Y/N,” he greeted warmly. “Ready for the evening?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stammered, stepping aside to let him in. “Liv had a work thing come up, so it’s just, um… us.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise passing over his face before he nodded. “Shame she can’t make it. But I suppose it’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

You managed a small smile, grabbing your coat. “Right. Catch up.”

---

The car ride to the concert hall was quiet, save for Peter’s occasional remarks about the evening’s program. He seemed perfectly at ease, while you stared out the window, hyper-aware of how close you were sitting.

When the car stopped, Peter stepped out first, offering you a hand as you climbed out. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” he asked, gesturing to the grand concert hall.

“A few times,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “It’s always… impressive.”

He smiled. “Wait until you hear tonight’s performance. It’s one of my favorites.”

---

Inside, you settled into your seats—side by side, of course. The lights dimmed, and the orchestra began to tune, the hum of violins filling the air. Peter leaned closer, his voice low.

“Do you know this piece?”

You turned to him, surprised by how close he was. “Not really. Should I?”

He chuckled softly. “I think you’ll like it. Very dramatic.”

You nodded, quickly looking back at the stage, but you could feel his eyes on you for a moment longer before he leaned back into his seat.

---

At intermission, you both stood in the crowded foyer, surrounded by elegant couples sipping champagne. Peter handed you a glass, his expression thoughtful.

“So,” he said, “how are you finding it so far? Be honest.”

“It’s… really beautiful,” you admitted, fidgeting with the stem of your glass. “I don’t usually go to things like this, but it’s nice.”

He studied you for a moment, then smiled. “You’ve always been good at appreciating the little things. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you.”

You nearly choked on your sip of champagne, glancing up at him in surprise. “Oh. Um… thank you.”

Peter’s smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You don’t need to look so startled, Y/N. It’s just a compliment.”

“Right,” you said quickly, cheeks heating up again. “Of course. Thanks.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to figure you out. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous, you know that?”

“I—what?” you stammered, but before you could finish, the bell chimed, signaling the end of intermission.

Peter offered his arm, his tone light but teasing. “Shall we?”

You hesitated for a moment, then looped your arm through his, your heart pounding as you followed him back to your seats.

---

Once the concert was over, Peter led you out of the concert hall, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back. The crowd thinned as the night air hit your face, crisp and cool compared to the warmth inside. His car waited at the curb, sleek and polished, and he opened the door for you without hesitation.

“Still enjoying yourself?” he asked once you were both seated, his tone light.

“Yes,” you replied, glancing at him. “It was… really amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”

He gave a small, thoughtful smile, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. “I’m glad you came. I was afraid I’d be sitting through it alone tonight.”

The comment was harmless, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering—was that why he hadn’t seemed to mind Olivia’s absence? You pushed the thought aside, unsure what to say, and instead watched the city lights blur through the window.

---

When the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, Peter stepped out quickly, coming around to open your door. You murmured a quiet “thank you” as you stepped out, feeling the weight of his presence beside you. He walked you to the building’s entrance, his movements effortlessly graceful as always.

“You didn’t have to walk me up,” you said softly, fumbling with your keys.

Peter raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, isn’t it?”

You smiled faintly, unlocking the door and stepping inside with him close behind. The elevator ride was silent, though you caught him glancing at you once or twice. Your heart felt like it was lodged in your throat by the time you reached your floor.

When you reached your apartment door, you turned to face him, unsure how to say goodnight without sounding awkward. Peter beat you to it.

“Tonight was lovely,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You were good company.”

“Thanks,” you said, heat rushing to your face. “You too.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Peter’s expression softened, his tone casual but warm. “You don’t have to feel obligated to say yes every time Olivia drags you along, you know. I’d hate to think you’re going to these things just because you feel like you should.”

Your chest tightened. Was he saying he thought you didn’t want to be here? That you’d only come because Olivia wasn’t around to take your place? You forced a polite smile, ignoring the strange twist in your stomach.

“I don’t mind,” you said lightly, hoping it sounded convincing. “It’s always nice to catch up.”

Peter smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Good. Then… goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you replied softly, watching as he turned and walked back toward the elevator. You stood there for a moment, listening to the faint hum of the elevator descending before you finally stepped inside your apartment and leaned against the door.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, your thoughts spinning. Did you just get friendzoned? You shook your head, groaning under your breath. “Don’t overthink it,” you muttered to yourself, but the knot in your chest didn’t budge.

---

The next morning, Olivia burst into your apartment, barely waiting for you to open the door. “Well? How was it?” she asked, her grin wide as she plopped onto your couch.

You blinked, still holding your mug of coffee. “Uh, it was fine.”

“Fine?” she repeated, narrowing her eyes. “You went to the Philharmonic with Peter Lyman, and all you’ve got for me is ‘fine’? No way. Spill.”

You sighed, setting your mug on the table and sitting down across from her. “It was fine. He was polite, as always, and we had a nice time. But…” You hesitated, staring at your hands.

“But?” Olivia prompted, leaning forward eagerly.

“I think he sees me as, like, your friend who tags along to family stuff. He made some comment about not feeling obligated to go to these things, like I only went because you couldn’t.”

Olivia frowned. “What? That doesn’t sound like Peter.”

“Maybe not, but that’s how it came across,” you said, shrugging. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anything else.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “You’re not seriously going to let one weird comment freak you out, are you?”

“I’m not freaking out,” you replied quickly, though the heat in your face said otherwise. “I just… I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Y/N,” Olivia said, crossing her arms. “Peter’s not an idiot. If he said that, he probably didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Thanks,” you muttered, but she just laughed.

“Don’t worry,” she said, standing up. “If I know Peter, he’ll figure it out eventually.” She paused, giving you a sly grin. “In the meantime, maybe try not to overthink it.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as she left the room.

---

A week later, you and Olivia had a movie night at your place, and old romcom she loved in the DVD player.

You had your legs tucked under you, barely focusing on the movie before gaining enough courage to face her. “Liv? Do you think… well—you, I got…”

She took her gaze away from the TV. “Hmm. Could be anything that’s got you stuttering like that.” She grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Okay. Spill.”

You took a deep breath, blurting out, “Joshua asked me on a date.”

Olivia sat up straighter, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie. “Joshua? Like Lord Beckett’s youngest son? That Joshua?”

You squirmed under her gaze. “Yeah. Apparently, he works as a journalist. He came over to the firm and was interviewing my boss.”

Olivia blinked, then leaned back with an exaggerated laugh. “Oh my God, that’s rich. Joshua Beckett, out of nowhere, asking you out?” She shook her head in disbelief. “How’d he even swing that?”

You frowned. “I mean, he was… nice? Polite? We just talked for a bit after his meeting, and then—bam—he asked.”

Olivia smirked. “Did you say yes?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to be rude,” you admitted, your voice shrinking.

She threw a pillow at you. “What the hell, Y/N? This isn’t ‘polite conversation’ territory—it’s a date! You can’t just agree because you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.”

“I didn’t know how to say no!” you shot back, clutching the pillow to your chest. “He caught me off guard. And honestly, he seemed… fine?”

“Fine,” Olivia deadpanned. “High praise, as always.”

You sighed. “Look, it’s just one dinner. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Olivia squinted at you like she didn’t buy it for a second. “Right. And this has nothing to do with Peter, huh?”

Your stomach flipped, and you quickly avoided her gaze. “This has nothing to do with Peter.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said knowingly. “So, when’s this casual, meaningless dinner happening?”

“Friday,” you mumbled.

“Friday,” she repeated with a hum, then grinned slyly. “Guess who’s getting a phone call.”

You looked at her in alarm. “No! You’re not calling Peter!”

“Oh, I’m not?” she teased, already reaching for her phone.

“Liv, I swear—”

“Relax, I’m kidding!” she said with a laugh, setting her phone aside. “But seriously, Y/N… Joshua? You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

You groaned, flopping back against the couch. “I don’t know, okay? I panicked. It’s not like Peter’s lining up to ask me out, anyway.”

Olivia’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “Peter’s… complicated,” she said after a moment. “But you know he cares about you, right? I mean, he wouldn’t—”

You cut her off, shaking your head. “Let’s not do this. I can’t think about Peter and… whatever this is. Not when I’m already overthinking everything else.”

Olivia hesitated but eventually nodded. “Fine. But for the record, I don’t think you’re overthinking. I think you’re underthinking Peter.”

You groaned again, burying your face in the pillow. “Can we just finish the movie?”

“Sure,” she said, grabbing the remote. But as she pressed play, she muttered under her breath, “You’re totally underthinking it.”

---

Peter glanced at Olivia, who was reclining with a magazine in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, her legs crossed lazily. The faint echoes of splashing water and the quiet hum of conversation filled the air around the indoor pool.

“Perhaps you’d like to come to the garden party Father is throwing on Sunday,” Peter said, his voice casual as he stretched his arms.

Olivia glanced up briefly. “Sure, sounds nice. Is it the usual crowd?”

Peter nodded, stepping to the edge of the pool. “More or less. Family, some of Father’s associates. Nothing too overwhelming.” He paused, his tone shifting just slightly. “Will Y/N be coming?”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, setting down her tea. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll ask her after her date tonight.”

Peter froze, mid-step, before lowering himself to sit at the pool’s edge. “Date?” His voice was calm, but the word lingered in the air.

“Yeah, with Joshua Beckett,” Olivia said nonchalantly, flipping a page in her magazine. “You know, Lord Beckett’s youngest. He ran into her at work and asked her out. She said yes.”

Peter’s expression didn’t falter, though his fingers tapped lightly against his knee. “Joshua Beckett,” he repeated, as though testing the name on his tongue.

“Mhm,” Olivia said, still focused on her magazine. “Journalist. Apparently, he’s charming. She didn’t seem overly excited, though.”

“Hmm.” Peter slipped into the pool gracefully, the water rippling around him. “Well, good for her. I hope it goes well.”

Olivia glanced at him over the edge of her magazine, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You sound thrilled.”

Peter’s lips twitched in a polite smile, though he avoided her gaze. “Just being supportive.”

Olivia snorted, setting her magazine aside and standing up. “Right. Well, I’m off to the spa. I need a massage after this long week. Don’t drown or anything.”

Peter waved a hand as he began a slow backstroke. “Enjoy your massage.”

“Thanks,” Olivia said breezily, heading for the door. “Oh, and I’ll let you know if Y/N decides to come on Sunday.”

Peter didn’t reply, his focus seemingly on the water, though his strokes became a little sharper, his movements a touch less fluid. When Olivia was gone, he exhaled slowly, staring up at the high ceiling.

“Joshua Beckett,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and contemplative, before diving underwater.

---

You and Olivia walked through the hedges into the garden area, where small tables were set up and people already mingling.

“Do you think they have those finger sandwiches I like?” you asked Olivia, scanning the tables set up around the garden. Your voice was quieter than usual, the low hum of polite chatter filling the air.

“I’m sure they do,” Olivia replied, smirking. “I mean, Peter’s father wouldn’t dare host a garden party without catering to your very specific sandwich preferences, right?”

You rolled your eyes, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “You’re hilarious.”

“Always,” she said, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder before her eyes drifted to the side. “Oh, speaking of Peter—there he is. He looks like he’s on host duty already.”

Before you could turn, Olivia raised a hand, waving him over.

Peter approached with his usual effortless confidence, a light smile on his face. His suit was perfectly tailored—charcoal gray, understated but sharp—and he moved with the ease of someone who had never once felt out of place in a crowd.

“Olivia,” he greeted warmly. “Y/N.” His gaze flicked to you, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Glad you could both make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Olivia said, grinning. “I already saw the sandwiches, by the way. You’ve kept Y/N’s favorites. Excellent hosting.”

Peter chuckled softly. “Of course. Wouldn’t dream of disappointing.” He shifted slightly, his eyes scanning the immediate area. “Where’s she gone?”

Olivia blinked and glanced beside her, only to realize you were no longer there. “Wait, what? She was just—”

Peter raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Impressive. That might be the quickest escape yet.”

“She does that sometimes,” Olivia said, sighing dramatically. “It’s like she’s made of smoke or something. Well, I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. I’ll catch up with her in a bit.”

Peter gave a polite nod, though his gaze was already moving past her, scanning the clusters of guests. “No need. I’ll find her.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and disappeared into the garden’s maze of tables and guests.

---

You were standing by one of the smaller tables, a tiny plate in hand, already nibbling on a finger sandwich. You’d ducked out as soon as Peter walked over—not because you didn’t want to talk to him, but because it was always a little overwhelming when he was around. Somehow, he managed to be both incredibly easy to talk to and completely impossible to read at the same time.

The garden was peaceful, at least. You focused on the sounds of the birds and the clinking glasses, taking a moment to settle your nerves.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You jumped slightly at the sound of Peter’s voice, almost dropping your plate. He stood just a few steps away, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“I—uh—yes,” you stammered, quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. “I was just…” You gestured vaguely to the table of food.

“Finding the sandwiches, I see,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you admitted, glancing down at the one in your hand. “They’re really good.”

“I’m glad,” Peter replied, stepping closer. “I’ll have to thank the caterer for getting them just right. Though, knowing you, you probably would’ve just been polite if they weren’t.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his observation. “Well, I mean… it’s not like I’d complain.”

He chuckled, his gaze steady on you. “No, you wouldn’t. But I’m glad they’re up to your standards.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt heavy despite the lightness of the conversation. You fidgeted slightly, unsure what to say, until Peter spoke again.

“Did you enjoy your date?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, startled. “What?”

Peter stood much closer than before, his expression casual, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. “Your date,” he said smoothly, as if it were the most natural topic in the world. “With Joshua Beckett. Olivia mentioned it.”

You ducked your head, suddenly finding your plate very interesting. “Oh, right. That. It was fine.”

“Fine,” Peter repeated, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Such high praise.”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head slightly, his tone light. “Nothing at all. Just… ‘fine’ doesn’t exactly scream thrilling success.”

“Well, it wasn’t a disaster,” you said defensively, clutching your plate tighter. “He was nice.”

“Nice,” Peter echoed, his tone amused. “That’s the second glowing endorsement.”

“Peter,” you sighed, finally meeting his gaze. “What are you getting at?”

He paused, studying you for a moment before responding. “I’m just curious. You don’t usually go out with people like Joshua.”

Your brow furrowed. “People like Joshua? What does that even mean?”

“Well,” he began, his voice as smooth as ever, “he’s the youngest son of a very ambitious family. Polished, charming, likely quite used to getting what he wants.”

“So… people like you,” you countered without thinking, then froze, immediately regretting it. “I mean—uh, not that you—just that—”

Peter laughed softly, the sound low and rich. “Touché.”

You pressed your lips together, looking down at your sandwich. “For the record, he didn’t get what he wanted.”

His brows lifted in mild surprise. “Oh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I told him I wasn’t interested in a second date.”

There was a pause, and when you glanced up, Peter’s expression was unreadable. “I see.”

Before you could decipher his tone, he straightened, glancing past you. “Excuse me a moment,” Peter said, his tone as smooth as ever. He stepped around you, heading toward the two new people with an effortless grace.

You turned, following his line of sight. A young woman with straight blonde hair and wiry glasses stood by the tables with an older man wearing a copper blazer.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his attention. Before you could process it, Olivia appeared at your side, holding a glass of sparkling water.

“Who’s he off to save now?” she asked, smirking as she handed you the glass.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, nodding toward the two strangers. “They just walked in, and he left to meet them.”

Olivia squinted in their direction, taking a sip of her drink. “Hmm. They don’t look like the usual crowd. Maybe business?”

“Could be,” you murmured, watching as Peter shook hands with the older man before gesturing toward the house.

“Should we ask?” Olivia teased, nudging your arm.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s probably something private. Let’s just stay out of it.”

Olivia grinned knowingly. “Right, because that’s exactly what we’re doing by standing here and staring.”

You sighed, looking away from the scene. “I’m just curious, okay? It’s not like I’m going to eavesdrop.”

“Sure,” Olivia said, clearly unconvinced.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peter lead the two guests toward the house. His hand rested lightly on the small of the blonde woman’s back as they disappeared into the crowd. You tried not to let it bother you, but Olivia didn’t miss the way your grip on your glass tightened.

“Who’s jealous now?” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m not jealous,” you replied quickly, though your tone betrayed you.

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, smirking. “Well, if you’re not going to ask, I will.”

Before you could stop her, she turned and started following the trio.

“Olivia, wait—” you called after her, but she waved a hand dismissively over her shoulder.

---

A few minutes later, Olivia reappeared, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. She found you lingering near the garden’s edge, nervously sipping your drink.

“So, I have news,” she announced, leaning against a tree.

“Olivia,” you groaned. “What did you do?”

“Relax,” Olivia said with a grin, casually tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I just asked Peter who they were. Turns out, the blonde is Jade Spence—some aspiring actress from Palm Beach—and her father, Mr. Spence. They’re staying with the Fultons.”

You blinked, trying not to let your curiosity show too much. “The Fultons? As in… the Fultons?”

Olivia nodded, her smirk growing. “Yup. And Peter’s apparently been playing tour guide or something. He mentioned meeting her a few days ago.”

You frowned slightly, glancing toward the house where Peter had disappeared with Jade and Mr. Spence. “Tour guide?”

Olivia shrugged, swirling the water in her glass. “Or lifeguard, maybe. He said something about saving her from drowning in the pool.”

Your head whipped around. “What?”

“I know, right? So dramatic,” Olivia said with a laugh. “Apparently, it was this whole thing. She was swimming alone, started panicking, and Peter swooped in like the hero he is.”

You looked down, fiddling with the edge of your plate. “Well, that’s… nice of him.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, giving you a pointed look. “And now he’s escorting her around garden parties. Very hands-on for a guy who’s usually so… you know. Detached.”

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, but you forced a nonchalant tone. “Maybe he’s just being polite. She’s staying with the Fultons, after all.”

“Polite?” Olivia echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, Peter doesn’t do polite for strangers. He’s always charming, but this is different. He’s… interested.”

You felt your chest tighten, but you quickly shook your head. “It’s probably nothing. She’s just visiting, and he’s being a good host.”

Olivia studied you for a moment, her smirk fading. “You know, you’re allowed to be annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered just enough for Olivia to catch it.

“Right,” she said, crossing her arms. “Because you’re totally fine with Peter playing Prince Charming for a random blonde from Florida.”

You frowned. “What do you want me to say, Olivia? It’s not like Peter and I—” You cut yourself off, your cheeks burning.

Olivia leaned in, her voice low but teasing. “Not like you what? C’mon, Y/N, finish that sentence.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Forget it.”

“Nope, not forgetting it,” Olivia said, pulling your hands away. “Listen, I’m not saying you need to storm the house and stake a claim or whatever. But if Peter’s trying to make you jealous, it’s working.”

You blinked at her. “You think he’s doing this on purpose?”

"Could be. I mean, Peter’s smart. He knows what he’s doing," Olivia said with a shrug, her eyes glinting mischievously.

You snorted, shaking your head. "That’s ridiculous. Why would he try to make me jealous? He doesn’t even like me like that."

Olivia tilted her head, giving you an exasperated look. "You seriously believe that?"

"Yes," you said firmly, though your voice wavered slightly. "Peter’s always been polite, maybe a little flirty, but that’s just how he is with everyone. He doesn’t—" You stopped yourself, suddenly self-conscious.

"He doesn’t what?" Olivia pressed, leaning closer with that knowing smirk.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "He doesn’t see me that way, okay? I’m just… his cousin’s friend. The tagalong at family stuff. That’s it."

Olivia’s smirk dropped, replaced by something softer. "Y/N, you’re seriously blind if you don’t think he’s at least interested."

You bit your lip, fidgeting with your drink. "It doesn’t matter. Even if he were—which he’s not—he’s clearly more interested in Jade right now."

Olivia snorted. "Jade Spence? Are you kidding? That’s just Peter being Peter. I bet he swooped in to ‘save’ her and now feels obligated to play the perfect host."

"Or maybe he actually likes her," you muttered, barely audible.

Olivia stared at you for a beat before sighing dramatically. "You’re exhausting, you know that? The guy practically lights up every time you’re in the room, and you’re over here acting like he’s planning a wedding with some random actress from Florida."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Olivia cut you off, pointing her finger at you. "Nope. Don’t even argue. If you’re too stubborn to see it, fine. But mark my words, Y/N—he’s not into Jade. He’s into you."

"That’s insane," you said quickly, brushing past her toward the refreshments table. "You’re reading way too much into this."

"Am I?" Olivia called after you, clearly enjoying herself. "Guess we’ll see."

---

Later that day when you got back to your apartment, you walked over to the rotary phone and dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Joshua. I know I said I wasn’t interested in a second date, but—well, if you were, not that you have to…”

You cringed, gripping the phone cord tightly as silence filled the line. Then, Joshua’s warm voice came through, as composed as ever.

“Y/N, hi. I wasn’t expecting this, but… I’d love to. If you’re sure?”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, your stomach twisting with nerves. “Yeah, I mean… I thought maybe I judged too quickly last time. You’re really nice, and it wasn’t fair to just—”

“Don’t overthink it,” Joshua interrupted gently. “How about Friday? Dinner at that Italian place by the park?”

“Sure,” you replied quickly, your voice higher-pitched than usual. “Friday sounds good.”

“Great,” he said, his tone genuinely warm. “I’ll call to confirm. I’m glad you changed your mind, Y/N.”

You hung up, staring at the phone for a moment before groaning. “What am I doing?”

---

By the time Friday rolled around, Olivia had found out about the second date, of course.

“I can’t believe you called him,” she said, draped across your bed as you picked through your closet. “It’s like you’re trying to drive yourself crazy.”

“I didn’t call him to drive myself crazy,” you shot back, holding up a simple black dress. “I called because—”

“Because you were spiraling after seeing Peter with Jade Spence,” Olivia finished smugly.

You turned toward her with a glare. “That’s not why.”

“Right,” she said, sitting up and smirking. “So why is it, then?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Maybe I just don’t want to waste a chance with someone who’s nice to me.”

Olivia snorted. “Nice? Joshua Beckett is nice? That’s the bar now?”

You sighed, tossing the dress on the bed. “He’s not just nice. He’s smart, and he listens, and—”

“And he’s not Peter,” Olivia interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Liv,” you groaned.

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Wear the black dress. He’ll like it. Or whatever.”

---

While you went on your date with Joshua, Olivia went to the party Peter was hosting at his place. When she entered, Peter looked at the door and grabbed two glasses of champagne. “Ah, Olivia.” They kissed each other’s cheeks as a greeting. The door closed behind her causing Peter to glance over at the now shut door. “Where is Y/N? She’s not sick again, is she?”

Olivia shrugged off her coat handing it to the waiter with a thanks. “Oh, no. She’s on a date with Joshua.” She grabbed both glasses from Peter’s hands, one clearly meant for you.

Peter’s expression didn’t change immediately, but his fingers tightened into a momentary fist. “Joshua,” he said slowly, his tone neutral. “I see.”

Olivia sipped from one of the glasses she’d swiped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Yup. Second date. She called him, actually. Kind of a bold move for Y/N, don’t you think?”

“Very bold,” Peter replied, his voice calm but clipped. “I thought she wasn’t interested.”

Olivia shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. “She changed her mind. Or maybe someone made her change her mind.”

Peter’s gaze flicked toward her, sharp as glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Olivia said innocently, taking another sip. “Just that she seemed a little… distracted after your garden party. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Of course not,” Peter said smoothly, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had such influence over her decision-making.”

Olivia tilted her head, studying him. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly indifferent, you seem awfully interested in her dating life.”

Peter’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. “She’s your friend. Naturally, I’m curious.”

“Right,” Olivia drawled, clearly enjoying herself. “Well, if you’re so curious, maybe you should ask her about it. Or better yet, tell her why it bothers you so much.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Peter said, his tone cool. “She’s free to make her own choices.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia replied, giving him a knowing look. “So, you’re totally fine with her going out with a guy like Joshua Beckett? Polished, ambitious, very… not you?”

Peter’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “What an interesting way to phrase it.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Olivia said lightly. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You know, Peter, you could just admit you like her. Might save everyone a lot of time.”

Peter didn’t answer immediately, his gaze drifting toward the door. “I think I’ll fetch another drink,” he said finally. “Excuse me.”

“Running away?” Olivia teased, but Peter was already walking off, his steps measured and deliberate.

---

“He was actually quite nice. And he likes math and sci-fi movies,” you said, plopping down onto Olivia’s couch.

Olivia leaned against the armrest, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Math and sci-fi movies? Be still my heart. Did he also show you his extensive collection of pocket protectors?”

You frowned, tossing a throw pillow at her. “I’m serious! He’s smart, and… I don’t know, easy to talk to.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, dodging the pillow effortlessly. “And yet, here you are, talking to me about him like he’s your neighbor’s golden retriever. You’re trying too hard to sell it, Y/N.”

“I’m not trying to sell anything,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “It was a nice date. That’s it.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Did you agree to another one?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “He asked. I said I’d think about it.”

“There it is,” Olivia said, sitting up straight. “You’re not even sure, are you?”

“It’s not like that,” you protested weakly.

“It’s exactly like that,” she shot back. “You’re trying to convince yourself he’s interesting because—oh, let me guess—Peter has you in knots.”

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. “Why does everything always come back to Peter with you?”

“Because you get weird whenever he’s involved!” Olivia said, throwing her hands up. “Seriously, you were fine until Jade Spence showed up with her Barbie vibes, and now you’re spiraling.”

“I am not spiraling,” you said firmly.

“Oh, please,” Olivia scoffed. “You practically ran to Joshua the second you saw Peter being nice to her. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You glared at her. “Maybe I just wanted to see if there was something there with Joshua.”

“And?” she challenged.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “…And I don’t know.”

Olivia sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Y/N, listen to me. You can go on a hundred dates with guys like Joshua, but it’s not going to change how you feel about Peter.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t even try,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “You do. And it’s painfully obvious to anyone with eyes. So, instead of wasting your time on Mr. Math Enthusiast, maybe you should figure out what’s actually going on with Peter.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the sound of the doorbell ringing cut you off. You looked at Olivia who looked at you.

“What are you doing? Go answer it.” Olivia said.

“What—but this is your apartment!” You argued.

Olivia pushed your side, “go on!”

You stood up and made it past her before turning around. “Peter’s not at the door is he?” She shrugged, not responding. “Olivia! You—”

The doorbell rang again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Olivia waved her hand toward the door, not bothering to look away from the TV. “Go already! It’s not going to answer itself.”

Muttering under your breath, you shuffled toward the door, half-wondering why Olivia wasn’t doing this herself. You swung it open, and there he was—standing impeccably dressed in a casual button-up and dark slacks, as if he’d stepped straight out of a magazine.

“Peter?” you blurted, gripping the doorknob a little tighter than necessary. “What are you doing here?”

He offered you a polite smile, holding up a small clutch. “Olivia left this behind at the party. I thought I’d return it before it got lost in the shuffle.”

You blinked, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Oh. Right. Well, thanks for bringing it by.”

“Of course.” His voice was smooth as always, but his eyes flicked past you into the apartment. “Is Olivia in?”

“Yeah, she’s—”

“Watching TV!” Olivia called from the couch. “Bring it here, Peter. And while you’re at it, grab me a soda, would you?”

You shot her a glare over your shoulder, but Peter chuckled softly. “Should I let myself in, or…?”

“Oh, come in,” Olivia said loudly. “Y/N doesn’t bite.”

Peter stepped past you with an easy smile, and you resisted the urge to retreat to the kitchen. Instead, you followed him into the living room, your stomach doing a weird little flip as he handed Olivia the clutch.

“Your soda,” he said with a smirk, “you’ll have to get yourself.”

“Ugh, useless,” Olivia teased, but she took the bag with a grin. “Thanks, though. I’d have never remembered it.”

Peter turned back to you, his expression unreadable. “So, Y/N. How was dinner with Joshua?”

Your cheeks burned immediately. “Oh, um, it was… fine.”

“Fine,” he repeated, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone. “You use that word a lot.”

“Well, it’s a good word,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

Peter didn’t look away, his gaze steady. “I take it things went well, then?”

Before you could answer, Olivia snorted. “She’s not seeing him again, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

“Olivia!” you hissed, glaring at her.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saving time.”

Peter’s brow lifted slightly, though his expression remained calm. “Not seeing him again?” he asked, directing the question to you. “That’s surprising. He seemed like a… suitable match.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Peter tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Only that he seemed like someone who’d check all the right boxes.”

“Well, maybe I’m not interested in someone who just checks boxes,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Peter’s smile deepened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Interesting.”

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken things, until Olivia cleared her throat dramatically. “Well, this is fun, but if no one’s grabbing me a soda, I’ll do it myself.”

She hopped off the couch, leaving you alone with Peter. You shifted awkwardly, clutching your arms. “So… thanks for bringing her bag by.”

“It was no trouble,” Peter said, his voice gentler now. “I could’ve had it sent over, but I thought it’d be nice to see you both.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Right. Well… it’s good to see you too.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping just slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Your eyes widened. “What? I haven’t—”

“You disappeared at the garden party,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “And you weren’t at my party yesterday.”

You looked down, heat creeping up your neck. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just… had other things going on.”

“Like Joshua?” he asked, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. “Why does it matter?”

He held your gaze, his expression softening. “Maybe it doesn’t.”

The sound of the fridge door slamming broke the moment, and Olivia reappeared with a soda in hand. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you said quickly, stepping back. “Peter was just leaving.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile, but he didn’t argue. “I should be going. Thank you, Olivia.”

“Anytime,” she replied, smirking. “Bye, Peter.”

He turned to you one last time, his eyes lingering for a moment. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, watching as he left.

Once the door shut, Olivia let out a low whistle. “Well, that was something.”

“Don’t,” you warned, already heading for the kitchen.

“I didn’t say anything!” Olivia called after you, her voice full of laughter. “But seriously, Y/N, you might want to think about what you’re doing.”

You groaned, opening the fridge. “What I’m doing is making tea.”

“Sure,” Olivia said lightly. “Because tea will totally solve your Peter problem.”

You slammed the fridge door shut, wishing it were that simple.

---

Joshua invited you over to a philharmonic concert. He had brought it up while he had taken you out for lunch during your break.

You accepted and now were walking through the elegant, familiar foyer of the concert hall, arm in arm with Joshua. The polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of the chandeliers, and the hum of polite conversation filled the air.

Joshua glanced at you, his smile easy. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you? You seem comfortable.”

“Once or twice,” you replied, trying not to think about the last time. With Peter.

“Ah, of course,” Joshua said lightly. “It’s one of my favorite venues. The acoustics are exceptional.”

As he spoke, your eyes caught a familiar figure just across the room. Peter. He was standing near the staircase, chatting with Jade Spence, who laughed at something he said, her hand briefly touching his arm.

You stiffened, and Joshua followed your gaze. His brow lifted slightly. “Peter Lyman. What a surprise. Didn’t expect to see him here tonight.”

Your voice was tight. “He enjoys the Philharmonic.”

Joshua chuckled softly. “Don’t we all? Come on, let’s say hello.”

“Wait—” you started, but Joshua was already steering you toward them.

Peter noticed you first. His eyes flickered from Joshua to you, his expression unreadable, though there was a subtle shift in his posture. Jade turned as well, her bright smile widening when she saw Joshua.

“Joshua Beckett,” Peter greeted smoothly, his voice carrying that effortless charm. “Good to see you.”

“Peter,” Joshua replied, shaking his hand. “And Jade Spence, of course. I heard you were in town.”

Jade’s laugh was nervous. “Uh—yes, with my father.” Her gaze shifted to you, her smile polite but curious. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said softly, glancing at Peter briefly. His gaze was steady, focused, and unsettlingly intense.

“Ah, yes,” Jade said, her tone light. “I think Peter mentioned you.”

Your stomach flipped at that, but Joshua cut in before you could dwell on it. “Y/N is a dear friend. We’re enjoying the evening together.”

Peter’s jaw tightened, though his smile didn’t falter. “How lovely. I’m sure you’ll both enjoy the program tonight. It’s one of my favorites.”

“You’ve got great taste, as always,” Joshua replied smoothly, before glancing at his watch. “We should find our seats, Y/N. Don’t want to miss the overture.”

“Of course,” you said quickly, eager to leave the tension hanging in the air.

“Enjoy the performance,” Peter said, his eyes lingering on you as Joshua led you away. You didn’t dare look back.

---

Your seats were directly in front of Peter and Jade. As the orchestra began, you focused on the stage, but you could feel Peter’s gaze like a weight on your back. Joshua leaned closer to point out something about the composer, his voice low and warm, but you barely heard him.

Peter, meanwhile, wasn’t paying attention to the orchestra at all. His eyes never left you, the flicker of a frown crossing his face whenever Joshua leaned in or made you smile.

Jade noticed. She shifted slightly in her seat, her voice a soft whisper. “Peter, you’re not even looking at the stage.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on you. Finally, he leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Just admiring the company,” he said smoothly.

Jade glanced at you and Joshua, then back at Peter. Her brow arched, but she said nothing, returning her attention to the performance.

---

At intermission, you stayed in your seat, flipping through the concert program and trying to focus on the upcoming pieces. Joshua had gone to grab drinks, leaving you alone in the steadily emptying hall. The chatter of other patrons filled the space, but you tuned it out.

The soft creak of the seat next to you folding down made you glance up. Peter.

He sat with effortless ease, one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. “You always were the studious type, weren’t you?” His voice was smooth, teasing but gentle.

You blinked, glancing between him and the program in your hands. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s intermission,” he replied simply, his gaze steady. “Thought I’d say hello. Is that a problem?”

“No,” you said quickly, shifting slightly in your seat. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Peter smirked faintly. “I’ve been told I’m full of surprises.” He leaned back slightly, his tone casual. “You know, this concert reminds me of when Olivia insisted you both take violin lessons. What were you—ten? Eleven?”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the memory. “I was ten. Olivia was eleven.”

He nodded, his smile growing. “Right. And she quit after one session, didn’t she? Said something about the teacher being ‘a tyrant in a cardigan.’”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “She hated it. And she convinced her parents it was pointless for both of us to continue, even though I wanted to keep going.”

Peter’s eyes softened. “I remember. You were disappointed for weeks.”

You glanced down at the program, your voice quieter now. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“I noticed,” Peter said, his tone gentler. “You have this way of hiding how you feel, but it’s always there if you know where to look.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, Peter glanced toward the aisle. “Here comes your date.”

You followed his gaze and spotted Joshua making his way back, carrying two glasses of wine. Peter stood smoothly, his polite smile firmly back in place.

“Enjoy the rest of the concert,” he said, his tone light as he stepped aside to let Joshua pass.

Joshua handed you one of the glasses, glancing at Peter as he moved back toward his own seat. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, taking a sip of your wine. “He was just saying hello.”

Joshua nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “You and Peter are close, aren’t you?”

You hesitated. “I guess. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“Hmm,” Joshua murmured, his gaze flicking briefly toward Peter and Jade, who were chatting again near the back of the hall. “He seems… invested.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your voice defensive.

Joshua shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “Just an observation.”

The bell chimed, signaling the end of intermission. You followed Joshua back to your seats, settling in as the lights dimmed.

As the orchestra began, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You didn’t dare glance back, but you could feel Peter’s gaze like a tangible weight.

Joshua leaned closer, pointing out something in the performance. You nodded along, but your focus was elsewhere.

Behind you, Peter sat beside Jade, his expression unreadable as his eyes lingered on you. Jade noticed, her voice barely a whisper. “Peter, you’re missing the performance.”

“I’m not,” he murmured, though his gaze remained fixed on you.

Jade sighed softly but didn’t press further, turning her attention back to the stage.

You, meanwhile, tried to ignore the tension coiling in your chest, the strange awareness that had followed you since intermission.

The music swelled, filling the hall, but all you could think about was the man sitting just a few rows behind you.

---

“He what?” Olivia shrieked. “Oh, man. He’s relentless.”

“What do you mean ‘relentless?’” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against Olivia’s kitchen counter. “He’s the one who’s dating Jade in the first place.”

Olivia froze mid-sip of her tea, her eyebrows shooting up. Slowly, she set the mug down and turned to face you fully, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Ohhh, so now you admit it.”

“Admit what?” you asked, avoiding her gaze.

“That you care,” Olivia said, smirking. “Because last I checked, you were all ‘Peter’s not into me,’ and ‘Jade Spence is just a guest,’ blah, blah, blah.”

You scoffed, pushing off the counter. “That’s not what this is about. I just think it’s ridiculous you’re calling him relentless when he’s clearly moved on.”

Olivia gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Moved on? From what, exactly? Because to move on, you’d have to have been on something in the first place. And as far as I know, nothing’s ever happened between you two.”

“Exactly,” you said quickly, throwing your hands up. “So what’s the point?”

“The point,” Olivia said, stepping closer and poking your shoulder, “is that you’re jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks were starting to burn. “I’m not jealous.”

“Really?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Because you literally just said, ‘he’s the one who’s dating Jade in the first place.’ That’s got ‘green-eyed monster’ written all over it.”

“That’s not—” you started, but Olivia cut you off.

“Y/N, come on,” she said, her tone softer now. “You’ve been acting weird ever since Jade showed up. You’re suddenly going out with Joshua, of all people, and now you’re watching Peter like a hawk every time he’s in the same room.”

“I’m not—” you tried again, but Olivia just kept going.

“And don’t even get me started on the way you probably looked at him during the concert,” she said, crossing her arms. “You might as well have had a flashing sign over your head that said, ‘I wish I was sitting next to him.’”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “You’re reading way too much into this.”

“Am I?” Olivia said, leaning closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty obvious. You like Peter. And whether you want to admit it or not, him hanging out with Jade is driving you nuts.”

You didn’t respond right away, staring at the floor as Olivia’s words sank in. Finally, you muttered, “It doesn’t matter. He’s with her. End of story.”

“Y/N,” Olivia said, exasperated. “You don’t get it, do you? He’s not with her. He’s using her.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes narrowing. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Peter’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes. “Peter’s a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them. He’s parading Jade around because he’s trying to get a reaction out of you.”

“That’s insane,” you said, shaking your head. “Why would he—”

“Because he likes you, you idiot!” Olivia practically shouted, throwing her hands up. “And he doesn’t know how to deal with it because you’ve been so busy convincing yourself he doesn’t!”

You stared at her, stunned into silence. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.

Finally, you found your voice. “If that’s true,” you said quietly, “then why hasn’t he said anything?”

Olivia sighed, her expression softening. “Because he’s Peter. He’s not going to lay it all out there unless he’s sure it’s what you want too.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Deep down, a small part of you wondered if Olivia was right—if Peter’s actions, his lingering looks, and his sudden attention to Jade were all because of you. But another part of you was too afraid to believe it.

“Well?” Olivia said, raising an eyebrow. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Olivia smirked, leaning back against the counter. “Well, you’d better figure it out. Because if you don’t, someone else is going to make the first move. And I don’t think you’ll like how that turns out.”

You swallowed hard, her words echoing in your mind as you stared out the window, unsure of what your next step should be.

---

The party at Baron Edward’s estate was in full swing, and you found yourself clinging to the edge of the crowd, sipping something sparkling and pretending to look interested in the artwork on the walls. Joshua was mingling effortlessly, charming guests with his smooth conversation and quick wit. Olivia had disappeared somewhere, likely causing her usual brand of chaos.

Across the room, Peter was standing near Jade, the two of them engaged in polite conversation with a small group. He looked as polished as ever, his tailored suit sharp against the warm glow of the chandeliers. You noticed his hand resting lightly on the back of Jade’s chair, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack, it sent a pang through your chest.

Joshua reappeared at your side, offering you a warm smile. "What do you say, Y/N? Care to join me for a dance?"

You felt your cheeks heat up instantly, your fingers tightening on the glass of champagne you’d been nursing for the past half hour. "Oh, um… I don’t really think I’m—"

He gave you an easy smile, his hand already half-extended. "You’ll be fine. I promise not to step on your toes."

You shook your head quickly, the thought of dozens of pairs of eyes on you making your chest tighten. "I think I’ll sit this one out. Sorry."

Joshua tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment before nodding. "No need to apologize. Maybe next time." He glanced around and spotted Olivia chatting with a group near the drinks table. "Mind if I steal your friend, then?"

"Not at all," you said quickly, grateful he didn’t press the issue.

Joshua smiled, gave you a small nod, and headed off toward Olivia, who didn’t hesitate to accept his offer. You watched as they made their way to the dance floor, Olivia laughing at something Joshua said as he spun her gracefully into the music.

"You could’ve at least warned him you were a terrible dancer."

The low, familiar voice sent a shiver down your spine. You turned to find Peter standing beside you, one hand tucked casually in the pocket of his perfectly tailored suit. His gaze was sharp but amused, his lips curved in a faint smile.

"I didn’t think it was necessary," you muttered, looking down at your glass.

Peter tilted his head, his tone light. "And here I thought you were just trying to keep him from getting too attached."

Your head shot up, your eyes narrowing. "That’s not—"

He chuckled softly, cutting you off. "Relax, Y/N. I’m joking. Though I have to say, I’m a little surprised. You used to love dancing when we were younger."

You frowned, crossing your arms. "That was different. We were kids, and no one was paying attention back then."

Peter’s smile deepened, his gaze unwavering. "And now?"

"Now," you said quickly, "it’s just… not my thing."

"Hmm," he mused, his tone carrying that infuriating mix of charm and challenge. "I don’t believe you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your growing discomfort. "Well, you don’t have to."

Peter didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he extended a hand toward you, his eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. "Dance with me."

"What?" you blurted, your heart skipping a beat.

"You heard me," he said, his voice steady. "Dance with me. Just one song."

"I—I can’t," you stammered, glancing around nervously. "Not here."

Peter’s smile shifted, softer now but no less insistent. Without waiting for an answer, he took your glass from your hand, setting it down on a nearby table, and offered his arm. "Then let’s find somewhere quieter."

You hesitated, glancing toward the dance floor where Olivia and Joshua were spinning effortlessly among the other couples. "Peter, I don’t think—"

"Trust me," he interrupted gently.

Before you could protest, he guided you out of the main ballroom and into a dimly lit hallway just off to the side. The music followed faintly, softer now, the sounds of laughter and conversation fading into the background.

Peter stopped near a small alcove, his hand still lightly resting on your arm. "Better?"

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. "A little."

"Good," he said, stepping closer. He took your hand in his, his touch warm and steady. "Now, let’s try this again."

"Peter, I’m going to embarrass myself," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You won’t," he said firmly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "It’s just us, Y/N. No one’s watching."

You hesitated, but the way he looked at you—patient, encouraging, and far too confident—made it impossible to say no.

"Okay," you murmured, your voice so soft you weren’t sure he even heard you.

Peter smiled, a genuine one this time, and placed your other hand lightly on his shoulder. His hand settled on your waist, the touch sending a strange flutter through your chest.

"See?" he said, his voice low as he guided you into a slow, swaying rhythm. "Nothing to it."

"I feel ridiculous," you admitted, glancing at your feet to make sure you weren’t stepping on him.

"Don’t," Peter said softly. "You’re doing fine."

You glanced up at him, his face closer than you’d realized. His expression was calm, but his eyes… there was something in them you couldn’t quite name.

The faint strains of the orchestra drifted through the hallway, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away.

"You’re not bad at this," Peter said after a while, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "You’re a very biased judge."

"Maybe," he admitted, his lips twitching into a smirk. "But I’m right, aren’t I?"

You didn’t answer, your gaze dropping to his collar instead. His tie was slightly loosened, just enough to make him look effortlessly disheveled in a way that only Peter could manage.

"Y/N," he said softly, drawing your attention back to his face. His smile had faded, replaced by something quieter, more serious.

"Yes?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. "Why do you let him distract you?"

"Who?" you asked, confused.

"Joshua," Peter said simply, his tone calm but pointed. "You’re not interested in him."

You froze, your cheeks burning. "That’s not—"

"You don’t have to explain," he interrupted, his voice low. "I just… I don’t understand why you’re pretending."

Your chest tightened, his words cutting far closer to the truth than you wanted to admit. "I’m not pretending."

Peter’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening. "You don’t have to, Y/N. Not with me."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the distant sound of the music filling the silence.

"I…" you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

Peter leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Think about it, Y/N. That’s all I’m asking."

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as his words settled in the air between you. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the moment was gone.

Peter stepped back, his hand slipping from your waist. "Thank you for the dance."

You nodded mutely, watching as he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading down the hall.

Your heart was still racing, and as the music swelled again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had just changed.

---

A few days after the party you were laying on Olivia’s couch, a box of tissues in your lap and a cool rag on your forehead.

“Oh, sweetie.” Olivia cooed, taking the rag away from you.

“’M not a baby,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as Olivia dabbed your forehead with the cool rag.

“I know,” she teased, sitting back on the edge of the coffee table. “But you’re my favorite patient, so deal with it.” You gave her a weak glare, which she met with a smirk. “Honestly, Y/N, you’re lucky I love you. I’ve got work in a bit, and instead of doing literally anything else, I’m here playing Florence Nightingale.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” you replied, your voice hoarse. “I’ll leave when you do. I’ll get a cab back to my place.”

Olivia frowned, crossing her arms. “You’re really going to haul yourself into a cab like this? You can just stay here.”

You shook your head, coughing lightly into a tissue. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be in your way.”

“Like you could ever be in my way,” Olivia scoffed, standing and smoothing her blouse. “Alright, if you insist on being stubborn, I’ll drop you at the cab stand on my way out.”

She disappeared down the hall to finish getting ready, and you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the TV in the background instead of the pounding in your head.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. You heard Olivia’s muffled footsteps and then the sound of the door opening.

“Oh, Peter,” Olivia said, her voice laced with mild surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Peter replied smoothly. “Thought I’d check in.”

“Well, I’m heading to work in a minute,” Olivia said, her voice casual. “But Y/N’s in the living room. She’s not feeling great, though, so don’t expect sparkling conversation.”

There was a pause, and then you heard Peter’s footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes just as he entered the room, his expression softening when he saw you curled up on the couch.

“You look dreadful,” he said, his tone gentle but teasing.

“Thanks,” you croaked, giving him a weak smile.

He chuckled, crouching down so you were eye level. “What’s the plan? Olivia mentioned a cab.”

You nodded. “When she leaves, I’ll call one and head home.”

Peter frowned slightly, standing and crossing his arms. “No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” you said, sitting up a little.

“You’re not well,” he said firmly. “I’ll take you home.”

“Peter, that’s not necessary—”

“It is,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t trust you to actually rest if you’re left to your own devices. Come on, let’s get you sorted.”

Olivia reappeared, shrugging into her coat and raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” Peter said, offering you a hand. “I’m taking her home.”

You hesitated, glancing between them, but Olivia grinned. “Well, aren’t you sweet? Take good care of her, Peter. She’s a nightmare when she’s sick.”

“Noted,” Peter replied, helping you stand. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

---

The drive to your apartment was quiet. You leaned against the cool window, trying to ignore how warm your cheeks felt—not just from the fever, but from Peter’s presence.

When you reached your building, Peter insisted on helping you out of the car and up the stairs, his hand resting lightly on your back as you walked.

“You really don’t have to—”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting you off as he opened your apartment door with the spare key Olivia had borrowed and returned. “Let me help. You’re not going to convince me otherwise.”

Once inside, he guided you to the couch, setting your blanket over you and grabbing a pillow to tuck behind your head.

“Comfy?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, already feeling more at ease. “Thank you.”

Peter smiled faintly. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t even started making tea.”

“You’re staying?” you asked, your eyes widening slightly.

“Of course,” he said lightly, already heading toward the kitchen. “Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over.”

“Peter, I can take care of myself,” you called after him, though the argument sounded weak even to your own ears.

“I’m sure you can,” he replied, his voice teasing. “But humor me.”

You sighed, leaning back into the cushions. As much as you hated to admit it, having him there was… comforting.

“Do you even know where I keep the tea?” you called, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“I’m resourceful,” he shot back, and you could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes, letting the quiet sounds of him moving around your kitchen fill the air.

Peter returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, carrying a mug of tea. He crouched beside the couch, offering it to you with a soft smile. “Here. Drink this.”

You blinked at him, your fingers curling around the warm mug. “You really didn’t have to.”

He leaned an arm on the edge of the couch, his face a bit closer now. “I know. But I wanted to.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond, so you took a small sip of the tea instead. The warmth spread through your chest, soothing in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Good?” he asked, watching you intently.

You nodded, your voice soft. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled, his eyes flickering to your hair. Without saying anything, he reached up, brushing a stray strand away from your face. The motion was so casual, yet it sent a flutter through your chest.

“You’re burning up,” Peter said quietly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pressed it lightly against your forehead. “When’s the last time you took anything for the fever?”

You squirmed under his touch, your cheeks growing warmer—not from the fever, you were sure. “Uh… this morning, I think?”

Peter frowned slightly, standing up and moving toward the kitchen again. “Stay put. I’ll grab something for you.”

You watched him go, your heart thumping unreasonably loud in your chest. He was being nice—nicer than he needed to be—but you chalked it up to Peter just being… Peter. Charming. Polished. Practically perfect. And completely out of your league.

He returned a minute later with a small glass of water and some medicine, handing both to you while placing the mug on the coffee table. “Take these.”

You hesitated but followed his instructions, swallowing the pills quickly and handing the glass back. He set it on the side table before sitting on the edge of the coffee table again, his gaze never leaving your face.

“Better?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I will be. Thanks for… you know. Helping.”

Peter tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I’d hardly call this helping. It’s just making sure you’re not miserable on your own.”

You managed a small smile, sinking further into the couch. “Still. Thank you.”

He didn’t reply immediately, his gaze softening. He reached out again, his hand brushing lightly over your forehead as if checking your temperature once more. “You should try to sleep,” he murmured, his tone unusually gentle. “I’ll stay here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you mumbled, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy.

“I know,” he said softly. “But I want to.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, letting your head rest against the pillow. Peter adjusted the blanket around your shoulders, his movements careful and deliberate.

Just as you began to drift off, you felt something—a feather-light brush against your forehead. Too tired to open your eyes, you assumed it was nothing, just a fever-dream detail slipping through.

But Peter sat back quietly, his expression unreadable as he watched you settle deeper into sleep. His hand rested on the edge of the couch for a moment longer before he stood, adjusting the light in the room to something softer.

For now, he would wait.

---

When you woke, you weren’t on the couch anymore. Instead, you were tucked into your bed, your blanket pulled up to your shoulders. The soft hum of an old humidifier filled the room, a faint stream of vapor rising from its spout.

You blinked groggily, your gaze settling on the chair near your bed. Peter was there, his jacket draped over the back of the chair and his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. He had a book open in his lap but wasn’t reading; his eyes were fixed on you.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, closing the book and setting it aside. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you mumbled, still half-asleep. “Did you…?”

“Carry you to bed?” he finished, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You were out cold, Y/N. I didn’t think you’d make it to the bed.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down at the blanket. “You didn’t have to.”

Peter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You said that already. And I’m still ignoring it.”

You fiddled with the edge of the blanket, unsure of what to say. “Thanks,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice low. “I wanted to.”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his eyes softened when they met yours. He reached over, brushing a hand lightly across your forehead. His touch was warm, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Your fever’s down,” he murmured. “That’s good.”

You nodded, too shy to meet his gaze for long. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” he said lightly, leaning back in the chair. “Olivia called to check in. I told her you were still alive.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh. “She’ll probably tell everyone I’m being dramatic.”

“She might,” Peter said with a faint smirk. “But I’ll set the record straight. Tell them you were very brave.”

“Stop,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up to your face to hide your smile.

Peter chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fine. I’ll spare you the teasing. For now.”

You peeked over the blanket, catching his grin. “I didn’t know you were such a good nurse.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he said smoothly, standing up and stretching. “Do you need anything? More water? Tea?”

“No, I’m okay,” you said quickly, though your voice came out quieter than you intended.

Peter crossed his arms, studying you for a moment. Then, without a word, he stepped closer, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. His hand brushed yours briefly, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Peter didn’t move right away. His hand rested lightly on the edge of the bed, and you could feel the weight of his presence. Finally, he straightened, his expression unreadable.

“Try to rest,” he said, his tone gentler than before. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me.”

“Wait,” you blurted, surprising yourself. When he turned back to you, eyebrows raised, you faltered. “I mean… you don’t have to stay in the other room. If you’re tired or something, you can… I don’t know, sit here? If you want?”

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile, his gaze softening. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you said quickly, then immediately looked down, your cheeks burning. “I just… I don’t mind.”

He hesitated for only a moment before pulling the chair closer to the bed. “Alright,” he said simply, settling back into it. “If you insist.”

You relaxed a little, letting your eyes close again. Peter didn’t say anything else, and for a while, the only sounds in the room were the quiet hum of the humidifier and the soft rustle of pages as he reopened his book.

Before you drifted off, you felt the edge of the blanket shift slightly, as though he were tucking it in more securely. It was such a small gesture, but it left your heart fluttering in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

---

As you cleaned up your spreadsheet a knock on your office door drew your attention away from your computer.

“Someone’s here to see you. A… Peter?” Alyssa said.

You rolled your chair back a little before standing up, “Peter?” You repeated. “Oh—uh, yeah, send him in.”

Alyssa smiled and went back to the reception desk. You sat back down just as Peter knocked a few times on your open door before entering, a brown paper bag in his hand.

“Good afternoon,” he said smoothly, stepping inside like he owned the place. “Thought I’d stop by and see how my favorite accountant was doing.”

You blinked, immediately flustered. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

He held up the bag with a small smile. “I remembered you’re terrible about taking lunch breaks, so I thought I’d bring it to you.”

Your cheeks warmed as you glanced at the bag. “You didn’t have to do that. I was going to grab something later.”

“Were you, though?” Peter teased, pulling up a chair without asking. “Or were you planning to survive on coffee and determination?”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t wrong. “Okay, fine. But really, you didn’t need to go out of your way.”

“It wasn’t out of my way,” he replied, leaning back casually. “Besides, I wanted to.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Peter always had this way of saying things that left you completely off balance. “Well… thanks,” you mumbled, reaching for the bag.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s just a sandwich and some soup, but I figured it’d hold you over.”

You opened the bag, the warm aroma of tomato soup wafting out. “This is… really nice of you.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Peter said with a faint smirk. “I can be nice.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” you replied quickly, glancing up at him. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Peter tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. “I like surprising you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, but before you could respond, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “So, how’s work?”

You shrugged, grateful for the change in topic. “Same as always. Spreadsheets, numbers, more spreadsheets.”

“Thrilling,” Peter teased, though his tone held genuine interest. “And Joshua? Has he been stopping by with sandwiches too?”

You froze, your spoon hovering over the soup container. “What? No. Why would he?”

Peter shrugged, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place. “Just curious. Thought maybe he was trying to impress you.”

“Well, he’s not,” you said quickly, though your cheeks felt like they were on fire. “We’ve only gone out a couple of times. It’s not that serious.”

“Good to know,” Peter said smoothly, sitting back in his chair.

You frowned, glancing at him. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” he said lightly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just making conversation.”

You hesitated, searching his expression for some kind of clue, but he was impossible to read. “Okay,” you said finally, turning your attention back to your soup.

Peter watched you for a moment longer before standing. “I’ll let you get back to it. But if you need another delivery, you know where to find me.”

You glanced up, surprised by the sudden shift. “You’re leaving already?”

He smiled faintly. “For now. But I’ll see you soon.”

Before you could respond, he was already heading for the door. You stared after him, the warmth of his gesture lingering even as his presence left the room.

Peter paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. “Don’t skip lunch tomorrow, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you promised, though your voice was softer than you intended.

His smile widened slightly, and then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the small, unexpected weight of his visit.

---

The Apollo Theatre foyer buzzed with excited chatter as you stood with Joshua, clutching your program and trying not to look overwhelmed. Olivia spotted you almost instantly, weaving through the crowd with her signature enthusiasm.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping you in a quick hug before turning to Joshua. “And look who’s with you. Hey Joshua. Ready for the show?”

Joshua smiled warmly, shaking her hand. “Always. How could I pass up an evening at the theatre?”

Olivia turned back to you, grinning. “Y/N, are you ready for this? I’ve heard Wicked is incredible. And you know how I feel about The Wizard of Oz.”

You laughed softly. “You’ve only mentioned it a thousand times.”

Before Olivia could retort, another familiar voice joined the conversation. “Quite the reunion, isn’t it?”

Your head snapped toward the source. Peter stood a few feet away, looking effortlessly composed as always. Beside him, Jade smiled politely, her golden hair catching the soft light of the foyer.

Joshua straightened, his expression slipping into something cooler. “Peter. Jade. Fancy seeing you here.”

Peter’s smile didn’t waver as he glanced at you. “Is it? I thought this was the hottest ticket in town. Wouldn’t miss it.”

Olivia’s eyes darted between the two men, her smirk growing. “Wow, all four of us together. How cozy.”

“Five,” Jade corrected with a light laugh. “Don’t forget me.”

“Right, of course,” Olivia said, her tone borderline teasing.

Joshua’s hand brushed lightly against your back. “Shall we find our seats, Y/N? I think intermission mingling will suffice for this particular group.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Actually, you’re all in our row. They’ve just started seating.”

Your heart sank slightly as Peter gestured toward the usher holding the door open. Of course you’d all end up sitting together—it was just your luck.

Joshua’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Well, that’s convenient.”

Peter stepped forward, extending an arm toward you. “Shall we?”

Joshua opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Olivia interjected, her tone bright and amused. “Go ahead, Y/N. Peter knows the way better than any of us.”

You shot Olivia a quick glare, but Peter was already waiting, his arm still offered. Hesitantly, you placed your hand on his sleeve, letting him guide you toward the theatre. Joshua followed close behind, his expression unreadable.

---

The row was, unsurprisingly, a bit of a squeeze. Olivia sat on the far end, with Joshua next to her. You were in the middle, flanked by Peter on your left and Jade on his other side.

“This is… cozy,” Olivia quipped as everyone settled into their seats.

“Intimate, even,” Peter added smoothly, his gaze sliding to you. “How are you finding your evening so far, Y/N?”

“It’s nice,” you said quickly, fidgeting with your program. “I’m excited for the show.”

“As you should be,” Peter replied, leaning closer. “It’s a masterpiece. Though, I’ll admit, some moments can be quite… emotional.”

“Good thing I brought tissues,” Olivia teased from the other end.

Joshua cleared his throat, drawing your attention. “Are you familiar with the music, Y/N? I could hum a few bars if you need a preview.”

You laughed softly, trying to ease the growing tension. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Careful, Joshua. You wouldn’t want to spoil the magic.”

Jade glanced between the two men, her smile polite but strained. “Isn’t it wonderful how theatre brings everyone together?”

“Truly,” Peter said, his tone light but sharp enough to earn a glance from Joshua.

Before the exchange could escalate, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra began its overture. You turned your attention to the stage, grateful for the distraction.

---

Throughout the performance, you couldn’t help but feel hyper-aware of Peter. His arm rested lightly on the shared armrest, close enough that your elbows brushed once or twice. Each time, you shifted slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he did and simply didn’t care.

Joshua, meanwhile, leaned in occasionally to whisper something about the show. His commentary was kind and thoughtful, but your responses were distracted, your focus tugged toward the man on your other side.

When intermission arrived, Olivia stood immediately. “Drinks, anyone? I could use something fizzy.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jade said quickly, standing and smoothing her dress.

Joshua glanced at you. “Want to stretch your legs, Y/N?”

Before you could answer, Peter turned toward you, his expression casual but intent. “Or we could stay and chat. The lobby will be packed.”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, but he managed a smile. “It’s up to you.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of both their gazes. “I think I’ll stay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joshua nodded stiffly. “Alright. I’ll grab you a drink, then.”

As he and the others filed out, Peter leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed. “Interesting choice.”

You turned toward him, fidgeting slightly with the program in your lap. “What is?”

“Staying behind,” he said lightly, his gaze steady but unintrusive. “I thought you might want a break from all this.” He gestured toward the crowded theatre.

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. “I don’t mind staying. It’s quieter now.”

Peter’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. Quieter can be nice sometimes.”

You nodded, clutching the program tighter. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy in a way that made your chest feel tight.

“You’re enjoying the show, I hope?” Peter asked after a moment, his tone light.

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” you said quickly, grateful for the neutral topic. “The cast is incredible.”

“It’s a masterpiece,” Peter agreed. “I remember the first time I saw it. Defying Gravity gave me chills.”

You smiled faintly. “It’s definitely the kind of show that sticks with you.”

He studied you for a moment, then leaned a bit closer, resting his arm on the shared armrest. “You know, I’ve always admired your taste in music.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?”

Peter shrugged casually, though there was a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes. “You’ve got a good ear. You appreciate the details most people miss.”

Your cheeks grew warm under his gaze. “I don’t know about that. I just… like what I like.”

“That’s what makes it genuine,” he said simply. “You don’t pretend to like things just because it’s expected. It’s refreshing.”

You glanced down, fiddling with the corner of the program. “I guess I’ve never thought about it that way.”

He chuckled softly, his voice warm. “That’s what makes it true.”

You dared to look up at him again, finding his expression unusually soft. “You’re being… really nice today.”

“Am I not usually nice?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you are,” you said quickly, stumbling over your words. “It’s just… different.”

Peter tilted his head, his smile growing. “Maybe I’m just trying to put you at ease. You always seem a little… on edge around me.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction.

“You are,” he countered gently. “But I’m glad you stayed. It’s nice talking like this.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Finally, you muttered, “Yeah, it is.”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he leaned back into his seat, his hand resting on the armrest just a little closer to yours. “Do you remember the first play we went to? At my father’s estate? You must’ve been—what? Eleven? Twelve?”

You smiled faintly at the memory. “It was A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Olivia made me go with her.”

Peter chuckled. “And you spent the entire first act whispering that you didn’t understand why people thought Shakespeare was funny.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please don’t remind me. I was such a pain back then.”

“You weren’t,” he said softly, his tone sincere. “You were curious. That’s what made it endearing.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, your voice muffled. “Endearing?”

“Very,” he said with a small grin.

Before you could respond, the others began filtering back into the row. Joshua handed you a drink with a polite smile, his eyes flicking briefly to Peter. “Hope I got the right one.”

“Perfect,” you said quickly, taking the glass and shifting slightly in your seat.

Peter leaned back, his expression unreadable, but his gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer before he turned his attention to the stage.

As the lights dimmed and the show resumed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Peter’s presence beside you. It was magnetic, grounding in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

And as the music swelled, you found yourself wondering if staying behind had been the right choice—or if it had only complicated things even more.

---

It was nerve-wracking going on dates with Joshua, but meeting his parents? That felt like a completely different level of stress. Lord Beckett’s estate was sprawling, the kind of place you’d only seen in magazines, and the garden party looked like something out of a period drama.

“Relax,” Joshua said, offering you his arm as you both approached the grand lawn. “They’re going to love you. And even if they don’t, they’re far too proper to say anything about it.”

“That’s… oddly comforting,” you muttered, glancing nervously at the clusters of guests sipping champagne and chatting under the shade of elegant white umbrellas.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his tone warm. “Just smile and let me do the talking.”

You managed a small nod, though your stomach twisted with nerves.

Joshua led you toward a group near the center of the lawn, where Lord Beckett stood in a sharp navy suit, his posture as upright as his title implied. His wife, Lady Beckett, was beside him, her features poised and polite.

“Ah, Joshua,” Lord Beckett said, his deep voice carrying over the hum of conversation. His sharp eyes flicked to you. “And this must be… Y/N, is it?”

“Yes, sir,” you said softly, offering a polite smile.

“Welcome,” Lady Beckett said, her tone more cordial than warm. “It’s lovely to meet you. Joshua’s spoken highly of you.”

You blinked, glancing at Joshua, who grinned. “What can I say? She’s easy to talk about.”

Lady Beckett’s smile widened just a fraction. “How charming.”

Before the conversation could go much further, another familiar voice cut in.

“Lord Beckett,” Peter said smoothly, stepping into the group with Jade on his arm. “Always a pleasure.”

Your breath caught, and you instinctively looked away, focusing intently on the glass in your hand.

“Peter Lyman,” Lord Beckett greeted, his tone polite but measured. “You’ve been making quite the rounds lately.”

Peter chuckled. “What can I say? It’s hard to resist a good garden party.” His gaze flicked to you briefly, his smile unwavering. “Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

Jade added with a light laugh, “it’s practically a reunion, isn’t it? How lovely.”

Joshua’s arm tensed slightly under your hand, but he kept his tone pleasant. “Peter, Jade. Enjoying the season?”

“Absolutely,” Peter replied, his tone smooth as silk. “And you? Busy keeping Y/N entertained, I assume?”

Joshua’s smile tightened just enough for you to notice. “She’s been wonderful company. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You nodded quickly, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze. “Yes. Very.”

Peter’s lips quirked, his expression unreadable. “Good to hear.”

Jade broke the tension with a bright laugh, linking her arm with Peter’s. “Peter’s always said these events are better with good company. Haven’t you, darling?”

“Something like that,” Peter said lightly, though his eyes flicked back to you briefly.

“Shall we, Y/N?” Joshua asked suddenly, his tone smooth but insistent. “I’d love to show you the south gardens. They’re a bit quieter.”

You nodded, eager for an escape. “Of course.”

As Joshua guided you away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder. Peter’s gaze was still on you, his expression calm but intent, as if he was waiting for something you weren’t sure you could give.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Joshua said quietly as you walked, his voice low but firm.

“What?” you asked, startled.

“Lyman,” Joshua clarified, glancing at you. “He likes to play games. Don’t let him pull you into one.”

You frowned, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t think he—”

“He does,” Joshua interrupted gently but firmly. “Trust me.”

You didn’t answer, but your thoughts were a storm of doubt and confusion as you followed Joshua toward the gardens.

---

The south gardens were quieter, with fewer guests and a small fountain bubbling in the center. Joshua stopped beside it, turning to face you fully.

“You’re tense,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, though your voice wavered.

Joshua studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “Y/N… if this is too much, you don’t have to stay.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just—this isn’t really my scene, you know? But I’ll manage.”

He nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I know it’s not easy. But you’re handling it well.”

“Thanks,” you said, though your thoughts were still elsewhere.

Joshua’s gaze flicked past you for a moment, and his expression shifted, growing cooler. You turned to see Peter approaching, his stride measured and confident.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Peter said smoothly, stopping a few paces away.

“Actually—” Joshua started, but Peter cut him off.

“Y/N,” Peter said, his tone softer as his gaze settled on you. “Do you have a moment?”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “We were just about to head back, actually.”

Peter ignored him, his eyes still on you. “Just a moment, Y/N. That’s all I need.”

You hesitated, glancing between them. Joshua’s expression was calm but tense, while Peter’s was unreadable, his usual charm tempered by something more serious.

“Go ahead,” Joshua said finally, his voice tight. “I’ll wait here.”

You nodded slowly, stepping toward Peter. “What is it?”

Peter waited until you were out of earshot before speaking, his voice low. “You don’t have to stay with him, you know.”

“What?” you asked, frowning.

“I mean it,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “If you’re not happy, you don’t have to keep pretending.”

“I’m not pretending,” you said quickly, though your voice sounded unconvincing even to your own ears.

Peter’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening. “You are. And you’re not very good at it.”

Your chest tightened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue.

“I know this is all… complicated,” Peter continued, his voice gentler now. “But I can’t stand watching you with him, knowing you’re not where you want to be.”

“Peter,” you started, but he shook his head.

“Just think about it, Y/N,” he said quietly. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

---

Later, while you sipped your glass of champagne and held a small plate with a scone, Joshua leaned down, his voice low and warm. “I’m going to say hello to the Westford’s,” he said, pressing a light kiss to your cheek before walking away.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you glanced around, hoping no one had noticed. It felt like such a public display, something you weren’t used to, especially with so many watchful eyes at a gathering like this.

Unfortunately, someone had noticed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peter standing with Jade near the edge of the garden. His expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. And then, with deliberate ease, Peter turned toward Jade, leaning down to whisper something in her ear.

Jade laughed softly, tilting her head up to him.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t a quick, polite kiss, either. It was slow, deliberate—enough to catch the attention of more than a few nearby guests.

Your stomach twisted as you froze, your fingers tightening around your glass. For a moment, you considered looking away, but your gaze betrayed you, snapping back to Peter.

And that’s when he looked at you.

Even as he kissed Jade, his eyes met yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t a glance; it was deliberate, calculated.

You felt your chest tighten, heat rising to your face. Before you could process what had just happened, you set your plate and glass down on a nearby table and turned on your heel, heading toward the side of the lawn.

You found Joshua near the Westford’s, laughing at something Lord Westford had said. He glanced up as you approached, his expression softening. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m not feeling well,” you said quickly, your voice tight. “I think I’m going to head out.”

Joshua frowned, stepping closer. “What’s wrong? Do you want me to call for a car?”

“No, it’s fine,” you replied, shaking your head. “I’ll grab a cab. I just need to go.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed, his brow furrowing.

“I’m sure,” you said, your tone firmer this time. “Thank you for the invitation. It was… lovely.”

Joshua hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. Just let me know when you’re home, okay?”

“I will,” you promised, already turning to leave.

You made your way out of the estate, barely registering the elegant gardens or the soft chatter of the guests. Your chest felt tight, and your thoughts were a jumbled mess as you flagged down a cab and climbed inside.

---

By the time you arrived at Olivia’s apartment, your head was spinning. You fumbled with the spare key she’d given you, finally unlocking the door and stepping inside.

“Y/N?” Olivia called from the couch, her voice muffled by the blanket draped over her. She sat up, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at Lord Beckett’s thing.”

You dropped your purse on the nearest chair, your hands trembling slightly. “I was. I just… I couldn’t stay.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed as she set the popcorn aside and stood, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “Okay, spill. What happened?”

You hesitated, your throat tightening. “Peter happened,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Olivia blinked, then sighed, crossing her arms. “What did he do this time?”

You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. “He kissed Jade. Right in front of everyone. And then he… he looked at me.”

“What?” Olivia asked, her tone sharp. She sat down beside you, her hand resting on your arm. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, unable to keep back your sobs any longer. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, Liv. One minute he’s nice, the next he’s… playing games. I can’t keep up.”

Olivia frowned, scooting closer and pulling you into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

You leaned into her, your face pressed against her shoulder. “It’s just… he said something to me before he kissed her.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands still on your arms. “What did he say?”

Your voice wavered as you tried to explain. “He said… he couldn’t stand seeing me with Joshua. That I wasn’t where I wanted to be. And then—then he just… walked away. And not even ten minutes later, he’s kissing Jade like it’s nothing.”

Olivia exhaled sharply, pulling you back into her arms. “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry. That’s so… Ugh, I don’t even know what to say.”

You sniffled, your hands clutching the fabric of her sweater. “Why would he say something like that if he didn’t mean it? And then do the exact opposite? It’s like he’s trying to mess with me.”

She rubbed your back gently, her voice soft. “I know it feels like that. But right now, you don’t need to make sense of it. You’ve had a hell of a day. Let’s just… focus on getting you through this moment, okay?”

You nodded weakly, wiping at your eyes. “I feel so stupid, Liv. I shouldn’t even care, but I do. I always have.”

“You’re not stupid,” Olivia said firmly, pulling back enough to look you in the eye. “You’ve had feelings for him forever. This isn’t something you can just turn off.”

You didn’t respond, your chest still tight as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Alright,” Olivia said after a moment, her tone more practical. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re staying here tonight. I’ll make us some tea, and we’ll find something mindless to watch on TV. No more thinking about Peter, Jade, or Joshua. Deal?”

You hesitated, but the thought of not dealing with any of it, even for a little while, was too tempting to resist. “Deal.”

“Good,” Olivia said, standing and giving you a small smile. “Stay put. I’ll grab the tea.”

As she headed to the kitchen, you curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around you. Your thoughts were still spinning, but Olivia’s presence was grounding, her no-nonsense approach exactly what you needed.

When she returned with two steaming mugs, she set one down in front of you and plopped onto the couch with the other. “Alright, your choice: rom-coms or reality TV?”

You hesitated, then managed a small smile. “Rom-coms. Something ridiculous.”

Olivia grinned, grabbing the remote. “You’ve got it.”

As the opening credits of some over-the-top romantic comedy filled the screen, you leaned back into the cushions, trying to let the chaos of the day fade into the background. Olivia reached over, giving your hand a quick squeeze before settling in beside you.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “Whatever happens, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

You nodded, your voice too shaky to respond. For now, you let yourself focus on the warmth of the tea in your hands and the comfort of Olivia’s shoulder against yours. It wasn’t a solution, but it was enough for the moment.

⁠♡ part 2 ♡

[deadpan-whistled]

Hanahaki - A Thangyu Oneshot

——————

Pairing: Thanos / Nam-gyu

Warnings: Drugs mentioned; Strong language; Slow character death

Summary: Nam-gyu has to make a choice. Either he confesses to Su-bong (Thanos) or he dies; but will he confess on time?

Word Count: 1600

——————

Hanahaki Disease: A fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns feelings for the other, if not the carrier of the disease will eventually be unable to breathe.

———————————————————————

   He didn't even know his name. He called him 'Nam-su' and yet, he still fell for him.

   Nam-gyu was a fool for allowing himself to fall for the rapper he looked up to. How had he allowed this to happen?

   Every day since he realized his feelings for him, he was in pain. Pain in his heart, pain in his soul... Pain in his lungs.

   The petals came up when it was really bad, but his breathing was becoming slowly more and more unstable; more unsatisfactory for his body to function. He could barely walk without being winded these days.

   He had gone to the doctor when this had first became an issue; when the coughing fits got so bad that he could no longer explain their reasoning for being there. At first, he figured it was just a common cold. About a week later he found out he had Hanahaki Disease.

   Nam-gyu sat in shock when they told him. He barely understood what was being said. The doctor and nurses were equally saddened when giving the news, he could see the pity in their eyes for him. He could only imagine what they were thinking.

   "How do I get rid of it?" He had asked when he could bring himself back to reality.

   "You need to confess," the doctor had told him. "Confess to whoever it is you are in love with that could cause this sickness to appear... unless, of course, these symptoms came AFTER you admitted them?"

   "No, no..." Nam-gyu had told him. "I haven't said anything, yet."

   "Great!" The doctor had said. Pity was still in his eyes. "Then, just admit to them, usually this disease can go away like that, since mostly people fall for each other rather than just a one-sided thing."

   If only it was that easy for him to do.

   But, his disease was getting to the point of no return. The way he looked at it, he wasn't going to get any better unless he told him and if he gets rejected... well, he wasn't long for this world anyway.

   When he decided to tell Su-bong, he knew he would back out if he called and heard his voice. It had been around three weeks since the two had spoken and that was over the phone. Su-bong had not been able to see the amount of weight he had lost, the heavy bags under his sunken eyes, or been able to hear the muffled coughs while he spoke about the club he went to, the knew drugs he had gotten, the girls who flirted with him. And Nam-gyu was suffering more with every word. Every word he held onto with dear life, he wasn't aware of which sentence may be the last he heard. So far, it was on a voicemail. He listened back to this voicemail every day since he had gotten it a week prior.

   "Where you gone, my brother? Call me back!"

   Such simple words, so full of life. Su-bong was worried, he knew. But, he didn't call him back. He didn't want to torture himself like that or make anyone think anything was wrong. He knew he would play it off, but Su-bong would show up and see everything was wrong and he would worry.

   Taking as deep of a breath as he could muster, Nam-gyu knocked on Su-bong's apartment door. "One second!" Was shouted through the apartment almost immediately. This made Nam-gyu smile.

   Surely enough, a few seconds later, a disheveled  Su-bong pulled the door open. "What's up my-" Nam-gyu winced as his friend's normal greeting interrupted itself. "Holy shit, man! What the hell happened?"

   Su-bong grabbed Nam-gyu by the arm and pulled him into his apartment, practically slamming the door behind him. Shock and worry was all over the purple haired man's face. Nam-gyu sighed.

   "I'm just sick, is all," he told him, but Su-bong was not taking that answer.

   "Just sick, my ass! You are practically skin and bone!" Su-bong ushered the other to the couch, forced him to sit down. "Is this why you have not called me in nearly a month?" He asked, to which Nam-gyu hesitantly nodded.

   "Yeah, it's uh..." Should he tell him, he wondered? He decided to just not say the clinical name. "It's deadly."

   Su-bong jumped up, startled. "Is it contagious?"

   Nam-gyu chuckled. "No, no, not contagious. It is just killing me... Literally."

   Su-bong stared at the black haired man in shock. "How long have you... been dying? Do they know what you have?" He gasped, "Is it Cancer or AIDS?"

   "No, neither," Nam-gyu laughed, genuinely for the first time in weeks, only to be interrupted by a sudden coughing fit. He covered his mouth. Fuck, he didn't want to cough up any petals here, not in front of Su-bong. "And I have known for a little over six weeks now."

   "And you didn't tell me?!" Su-bong answered, appalled that he had no idea.

   Nam-gyu frowned. "It is not like I didn't want to, I just didn't want you to act like this." Sighing, he looked at his feet and caved in. "I have Hanahaki Disease, Thanos."

   "Hana..." For a moment, Su-bong didn't know what he was talking about, then it hit him. His jaw dropped. "Oh, shit, man, for real?"

   Nodding, Nam-gyu still refused to make eye contact.

   "Who broke your heart man? Who doesn't love you back? Who is killing you? I swear, I will—"

   Nam-gyu stood up and grabbed Su-bong by his shoulders. "Thanos!" He shouted, voice shaky. "I cannot tell you any answers if you don't give me any time to answer them!"

   Su-bong's eyebrows furrowed. He knew Nam-gyu was right, so he didn't argue. "Fine."

   Sighing, Nam-gyu gently spoke. "That is actually what I am here to talk to you about," he told him, removed his hands from the other man's shoulders. "Can we please sit down?" He coughed, a few petals falling out this time.

   Su-bong obliged, sitting down and helping to lower the coughing man beside him.

   Nam-gyu felt worry and guilt fuel him. He closed his eyes, he needed to just spit it out.

   "The person causing this is..." he gulped, gathering the very little amount of courage he had for this venture. "It's you, Su-bong."

   Su-bong was startled at the use of his name. He had never heard Nam-gyu use anything but 'Thanos' so he knew he was being serious. He blinked a few times, mind blank. He had to hear it again, so he slowly and gently said, "... What did you just say?"

   Defeated, Nam-gyu spoke quietly. He averted eye contact, he couldn't bear to see the look on the other man's face.

 

   "It... it's you causing this."

    Nam-gyu felt weak, his entire body was feeling the depth of the pain he was feeling all of the sudden. Tears welled up in his eyes. He finally met Su-bong's gaze.

   "I didn't mean for any of this to happen... I didn't even think of myself as gay until I met you, Su-bong." He finally broke, crying. He began coughing, his vision blurred, not just from the tears, he noticed. "I just had to see you one last time before I died, I couldn't handle not seeing you any longer."

   Su-bong could tell something was extremely wrong. The other man's eyes were growing heavy, his breathing sounded harsh. "Wait— wait, wait, wait—" Su-bong felt frantic, panic setting in. He was watching this man die, he knew it. He wasn't sure how he knew it, but he knew it.

   "I love you, Choi Su-bong..." Nam-gyu stated, watching as Su-bong rapidly pressed buttons on his phone.

   Su-bong was calling an ambulance. "Stay with me, Nam-su!" He shouted, but Nam-gyu didn't hear him. He smiled when Su-bong brought the other man to his chest, rocking back and forth frantically as he ordered an ambulance to come immediately.

   Nam-gyu sighed, one last heavy sigh, when his eyes closed. He never gave much thought to his death before, but he decided in his last moments that if he could die in the arms of the man he loved, he would accept his fate.

   The ambulance was too late. When they arrived, Su-bong was trying to wake up the other man, to no avail, tears falling down his face. He was never one to cry, but the grief he felt in that moment matched none he had ever felt before.

————————— 3 Days Later —————————

   Nam-gyu looked healthier when he was lowered into the ground than he looked when he had died. There weren't many people at the man's funeral, only a couple family members and a few friends Su-bong didn't recognize.

   Su-bong was there the longest after everyone had left. He sat with his knees on the ground, hands gripping his thighs. He stared at the tombstone that faced him.

   When grief became too much, he pulled out his cross necklace from under his button-down shirt and popped a pill.

   And he began to cough.

[ladyandherbooks]

Here's my theory about what I think will happen with Maria if we get a season 3.

So one of the biggest differences between the original show and Nocturne is that Nocturne is a coming of age tale for Maria, Richter and Annette. A coming of age tale where we see them take their first true steps into adulthood as they unlock and embrace their magic, gain confidence and start becoming the protectors and legends they'll one day be famous for.

Season 1 was Richter's season and season 2 was Annette's. It was also the season where we see Richter and Annette become a couple and Richter takes the big step to go with Annette, another big step into adulthood where he leaves his home and family and starts to make a life for himself.

But because Maria is only 16 she can't take all these steps yet. She's staying in Paris but she has Juste, her adoptive father at her side supporting her. She isn't quite there yet but she will be if we get a timeskip.

Since Symphony of the Night takes place in 1797 I think that this will be when season 3 takes place. Maria will be 21/22 (seasons 1 and 2 take place in January 1792) and will be old enough to have this final part of her coming of age story to kick off.

I think that after 5 years as a revolutionary is going to take some sort of emotional toll on her. And as for historical context - 1797 is the year when the royalists take power with a coup to overthrow them coming later in the year. This could be a good historical backdrop for season 3, especially if they want to show Maria's growing anger and darkness within.

This would also be a good time to have Tera reunite with Maria. Reunite them but slowly show Tera, under the influence of control of the Being that Olrox calls Old Man Coyote starts to convince Maria to give into her anger, frustration and rage. Have the being use the love that Maria has for Tera to its own advantage, have it try to sow seeds of doubt and mistrust against Juste and Alucard, have it emotionally manipulate Maria with Tera, knowing that Maria should love her more than anything.

But then we have Juste and Alucard, two very powerful threats to this beings plans for Maria. Juste, as Maria's new father has been able to bring her back from the darkness, to get her to embrace the light and love that she needs to use her magic in the way that she wants to. He's a threat as a parental figure and as a powerful fighter who knows what it's like to lose himself and his magic and can therefore get through to Maria in a way that would threaten this being. However, Juste sees vampires as beyond saving, he's tried to kill Tera twice and he'd do so again. This could work in the beings favour as it could help to create a seed of doubt or wedge between father and daughter.

And then we have Alucard, the man who is probably going to be the biggest threat to the being in its quest to get Maria. Alucard and Maria have a number of similarities, both are deeply tied to the Belmonts and consider them family, both have a vampire for a parent, both have killed their fathers and both have possessed incredible power from a young age. It's clear that the writers want to see them bond and to explore this relationship, whatever form it takes.

I also think that Tera and the Being have been keeping a close eye on these 3 and so is definitely aware of the different dynamics in this trio and how to exploit them as best it can.

However I do think we have 1 important wildcard that I think that no one truly understands - Maria's feelings for Alucard.

I do think that everyone, Juste, Alucard, Tera and the Being are well aware of Maria's feelings for Alucard, but I don't think that anyone, perhaps not even Maria know how deep and strong her love is for him.

So I think that towards the end of the season we'll get a big fight between the Tera, the Being and the trio where Maria will be focus. She'll have already walked down a dark path and done at least 1 dark thing and Juste and Alucard will be there trying to stop Tera and the Being from corrupting her fully.

And then we'll get the beginning of a tragedy, where Tera will try to convince Maria to walk away from her found family and come to her. The Being, fully possessing and controlling Tera will try to use the love that Maria has for her mother in order to get its hands on her.

And here is where it's going to fail. As Tera It's going to harm Juste and then Alucard, seriously harming or about to kill the latter. During the fight Maria's going to have doubts and will be torn between Tera and her found family. But in this moment Maria is going to have to make a terrible, nearly impossible choice about who she loves and needs more. And she's going to choose Alucard. She'll choose Alucard, she'll save and protect him by killing her mother. And Tera will let her, will break through the control that the Being has on her and will do everything in her power to ensure that she dies right then and there and that in doing so will save Maria from this Beings grasp. She'll redeem and save herself through the love she and Maria have for one another.

And she'll die and the Being will lose its host but will still be at large. It will flee and will leave a devastated, broken, guilty and grief stricken Maria who will be just like Alucard was in the aftermath of killing his own father.

[anna-proxx]

Thank you!!

I love your take and it makes sense.

It's interesting to consider that the key distinction is his outlook on the world and it reminded me of real life instances when people get hurt and they either turn against the world with resentment and make others bleed as well, or do the opposite and try to make the world a better place with kindness so that others don't have to hurt the same way.

It supports your point about LH Arthur's cynicism and belief that the world is too doomed to begin with.

And I think we all have that choice at many points in our lives whenever something makes us question it, if we keep the hope or not.

Originally, Arthur's son was meant to die in Colter and they ended up changing it so that it happened years ago. I don't know what was the reason for it, but with the way it is now, it shows how cruel the world can be and it gave Arthur time to internalize his feelings about the incident. Of course Arthur always knew how cruel the world can be, but this struck him on a personal level and it's important to his story.

Now it makes me think of the debt mission in chapter 6 where we have the choice to give the widow money. When Arthur sees her son, there's a pained expression on his face and it seems to be a parallel to Isaac and Eliza. This again sends the message that we can either cause hurt the same way somebody hurt us, or act against it happening to someone else as well.

It's harder to be kind when you're angry and Arthur is often described as an angry man, regardless of honor. Anger is a secondary emotion and it makes sense that he suppressed all his emotions until they grew into something sharper. Living with it every day tires you out.

I like your point about how LH Arthur remains loyal to the gang and acts in its best interest. Clearly he still cares about other people, just not as openly.

I definitely don't know about all the LH cut scenes and I might make myself do a LH run just to see them, but I remember watching a youtube video on how his journal entries differ after gang members' deaths and after a certain character dies (I don't wanna spoil just in case, but it's the first death in Clemens Point), HH Arthur's journal entry is more personal and shows he clearly cared for the person and he also admits those feelings. LH Arthur is more practical about it.

I guess LH is more guarded in this way as well, perhaps he gave up on caring for people in a personal way because it usually ends in pain, especially in this line of work. And I'd guess that leaves him feeling more lonely.

HH Arthur certainly keeps his distance as well, but at least he allows his heart to to still love and care and he's comfortable writing about it in his journal.

I believe his journal entries are more altruistic as well, like the last entry about Mary. He just wants her to be happy.

I totally agree that LH Arthur thinks he's stuck in a role of an outlaw and he had resigned on trying to be and do better.

He feels as though it's impossible for him to do good, to be kind, because that's not how he sees himself, while HH Arthur at least tries to do something good for the sake of those individuals he helps. Though he might not believe he could redeem himself with all the things he had done in his life.

I'd like to think that when we see HH Arthur being self-depricating, it's because he's aware of his inner darker side, thoughts or feelings (or the lack of them) that we don't get to see unless we play low honor which is when they come to surface. Arthur thinks he's a bad man regardless of honor and is quick to deflect any "you're a good man" that comes his way. He knows he could easily give in to his darkness and that might be scary (I know it would scare me).

Reminds me of his journal entry about Charles (after helping the German family), admiring him for doing the right thing like it's natural to him. For Arthur it's a conscious choice hence why he doesn't believe he's good.

After all, that's what Mary meant by "There's a good man within you, but he's wrestling with a giant."

The game encourages the idea that Arthur is actively in an inner battle between those two sides.

So, in a LH playthrough we can see what exactly HH Arthur doesn't like about himself. We just don't outwardly see it as much otherwise. Basically, in HH we see the better version of him, but he's still aware of what he could easily become.

(I'm not saying that HH Arthur is a saint by the way, it's just that one is morally above the other and it depends on which side of himself he suppresses)

When I first started playing the game and found out about the honor system without knowing much about Arthur, I thought it was cool that we get to choose who we wanna be. Of course now I understand that Arthur had always been both and that makes him more complex (I do love complex characters).

Honestly us as a player having the choice to go either route nicely shows what's otherwise hidden and how he alternatively acts if he goes a different path.

This is why it annoys me when someone claims that LH Arthur would do something completely out of Arthur's character.

Now it wouldn't be Arthur's free choice to lead the life he does if it hadn't been for his loyalty. But the damage has been done, even when he realises who Dutch really is.

LH Arthur just accepts that. He's used to being part of the reason the world is so tainted.

HH Arthur, for the first time, free of Dutch's influence, takes the leap of faith and does things for himself for the first time. Which is what multiple characters in the game encourage him to do in chapter 6.

During the last mission of chapter 6 (high honor, helping John over the money), Arthur repeats he had won in the end to Micah. What really matters to him is that he gave John the chance to be happy with his family. That his life, and death, wasn't meaningless. That's why I the epilogue is important for Arthur's story as well. He made it happen.

Arthur shows us that we always have a choice, no matter who we believe we are or how much darkness there is within us. No good deed is pointless, even if we feel like bad people inside. It doesn't matter what we're capable of but what we decide to do with it.

Good people do good things and bad people do bad things but either can do the opposite as well.

Kind people are capable of violence. And vice versa.

I'd love to see some low honor Arthur analyses.

I usually think of high honor Arthur and I also don't have the heart to play the low honor route all the way through, so I'm not as familiar with it.

I've seen certain people say things like LH Arthur would shoot you on sight, which of course is bullshit, because not everything that makes you lose honor is "canon".

Arthur is still the same person either way, in the essence. And, characteristics of each are still present in one or the other.

But I'd like to see someone's opinion on what makes him different from high honor and what those two share and why.

[ceilidho]

if you were soap’s physical therapist, you just know that guy would be like “och, hen, it hurts right here” and then pouts and gestures to his inner thigh so you have to touch him there. and then he just grins to himself when you try to reassuringly tell him “don’t worry about that, it happens to everyone” when he inevitably gets hard.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah