#and to the beat of Taylor Swift's Trouble

[giggly-squiggily]

Weeee requestsssss is it okay if i request lee chifuyu and ler baji??

Oops this started out as a tickle fic and turned into a ship akjrkejakrjajke I gotcha, anon! Ahh, I love them so much!!! Lee!Chifuyu is so freaking cute (really- I just love Chifuyu) I hop you like it!

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps)

@myreygn, @duckymcdoorknob, @baby-tickles2022, @cupcake-spice13,

Baji was in a mood.

It wasn’t often he felt them- these sudden urges to cause mayhem amongst his friends. Perhaps it was the full moon? Maybe the planets were aligned? He didn’t know what it was, and usually didn’t question it.

What mattered was only one thing.

He was gonna get Chifuyu today.

~~~

“Peke-J, you got to move, I’m hungry.” Chifuyu looked down at the black cat sleeping peacefully in his lap, shoulders slumping his shoulders once he realized he was stuck. “Come on- can’t you let me up so I can get a snack? I’ll be right back.”

The cat only continued to purr, far too comfortable to acknowledge his owner’s current predicament.

“Eh…fine.” Defeated, Chifuyu pulled out his phone, texting Takemichi with his side quest for food. He’d pay him back once he got there.

Before he could even send it however, tragedy struck.

“GOTCHA!” Baji roared from behind, vaulting over the couch as he wrapped his arms around Chifuyu’s shoulders, sending them both tumbling sideways into the cushions. Peke-J; now awake and mildly irritated by his parent’s antics, stretched before wandering off.

“B-Baji! You ass, Peke-J was cuddling with me!” Chifuyu squirmed as Baji turned him on his back, easily grabbing his wrist when the blonde tried to punch him. “Get off!”

“No way.” Baji grinned a wolfish smile, sending shivers down Chifuyu’s back. “Chifuyu…you know what I’m gonna do to you?”

“Feed me?” Chifuyu asked, even when he felt Baji’s hand slip under his hoodie, pushing it up. Giggles were already climbing up his throat, and he flattened his lips to keep them there. “B-Bahahaji, please!”

“I’ll feed you later. For now, I’m gonna…TICKLE YOU!” Baji roared, sending both hands into Chifuyu’s bare stomach, ten fingers flying over the warm skin. Chifuyu shrieked, his body full spasming as bright, unobtainable laughter spilled past his lips. “Aww, look at you! I’ve barely touched you and you’re laughing like a baby! Does it tickle that bad?”

“Bahhahahhahahhaji, yohohohohohohu shihihihihihihihihithehhahhahhahahd!” Chifuyu squealed out, his hands trying in vain to tug down his hoodie and protect his belly. Baji only laughed, one hand keeping it up while the other carried on tracing random shapes and patterns against that awful soft spot towards his lower stomach. “Sthahahhahap ihiihihihit, you bihiihhiiihihiihtch!”

“Oo, someone’s got a potty mouth today! Are you hangry, Chifuyu? Do you want a snack?” Baji cooed, eyes glinting as he leaned down. “I got a good one right here…”

“Bahahhaji? Bahhhahaji, wahhaHAHHHAHAHHAHAIT!” Chifuyu all but screamed when Baji’s mouth pressed into his belly, blowing a massive raspberry against the center of his belly. Abandoning the hem of his hoodie, he tugged at Baji’s hair, trying to pull him off. “GEEHEHEHEHT! GEHEHEHHEHEHT BAHAHAHCK, YOU DOOHOHOHUCHE!”

“What? You said you were hungry- I’m just giving you raspberries!” Baji laughed against his stomach, bringing his hands back into the fray to taze Chifuyu’s sides, making him spazz about and shriek. “So mean today- you must be seriously hangry.” Baji winked before blowing another loud raspberry before sitting up, his hands working another bad spot beneath his lower ribs. “Okay, you don’t like fruit. How about short ribs?”

“GEHAHHAHAHA, BAHHAHAHHAJI PLEHAHAHHAHASE!” Chifuyu was a mess of laughter, face bright red and eyes squeezed shut. His hands blindly grabbed Baji's, managing to loop around his wrists, but nothing else. Every squeeze and poke zapped his strength, like he was halfway between falling asleep and staying awake. “COHOOOHOHME OHOHOHOHON-WAHAHHAHAIT!”

Baji did, to Chifuyu’s surprise, letting the blonde gasp for hair. His hands remained on Chifuyu’s lower ribs, tapping gently but not pressing in, still making him giggle. When he was no longer panting, Baji smiled. “Better?”

“Yeah-AH! Ahehahahahhahaha, oh yohoohoohohu jehehehehherk!” Chifuyu jumped when the hands at his ribs resumed their game, making him fall back into the couch. “Bahhahahahahaji!”

“Hmm…so it’s a no to fruit, and a no to short ribs..oh- you know what I recently heard about?” Baji grinned, his hand sweeping up to Chifuyu’s collar. “How about neck bones?”

“GAH!” Chifuyu squeaked, his laugh going silent as he curled into himself, feet kicking and shoulders up to his chin, hands balled into fists and tight against his chest. “BAHAHAJI!” He cried, the sound barely about a whispered squeak.

“Hehe, okay- I’m done for real now.” Baji pulled his hands back, watching Chifuyu collapse against the cushions, breathless and panting. “Wow, you’re so-”

Just then, the front door opened.

“Chifuyu? Hey- I got your text.” Takemichi walked in, a convenient store bag in hand. “They weren’t selling Pork Buns unfortunately, so I got you some Onigiri-” He froze when he saw the pair, eyes widening and cheeks flushing.

Admittedly- it was quite the sight. Chifuyu- red faced and breathless- lying against the couch; his hoodie pushed up all the way up his chest. Baji, who was sitting on him, hands against his belly and halfway leaning down over said blonde. Both their faces were wide eyed in shock, not expecting Takemichi to arrive.

Guess the text went through after all.

“Eh…right- I’ll um…I’ll leave this here.” Takemichi put the bag on the table, avoiding eye contact. His ears were bright red as he made his way back to the door. “You can pay me back later. Bye guys…and erm, congratulations.” He shut the door quietly on his way out.

Silence. Chifuyu felt like his face could melt. Baji looked unreadable.

“Well, shit. Takemitchy thinks we’re gay.” Baji declared.

“Oh god.” Chifuyu covered his face with his sleeves, dread curling in his belly. “Oh my god, oh my god he’s gonna tell everyone.”

“He probably will.”

“They’ll think we’re gay!”

“They probably already do.”

“What do we do?”

“Make it a reality?”

Chifuyu froze, peeking through his fingers. Through his shock and embarrassment, he felt his heartbeat race. “H-Huh?”

Baji looked at him patiently, his expression easy. “I said what I said. Let’s make it a reality.” He smirked, waggling his eyebrows. “I’m down if you are.”

“Are you…confessing?” Chifuyu asked.

“Maybe I am.” Baji reached out, tugging his hands away from his face with effortless motions. “Maybe I’ve liked you since the first time I’ve met you. Maybe I’ve been wanting to make this thing official since you told me we’d co-parent Peke-J.” He let his hands slide up until they were holding Chifuyu’s. It was then did the blonde realize he was nervous. He could feel his pulse and how hard Baji’s heart was beating. “Whatcha gonna say about that?”

“I…” Chifuyu blinked, his heart rattling in his chest. Was this really happening? Taking a breath, he raised his chin. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I just did.” Baji replied.

“No. No maybes. Say it with your full chest.” He needed to know it was real.

Baji laughed softly, a slight tremor in the sound. “Fair enough…Chifuyu, I like you. Alot.” Baji looked him in the eyes- only genuine honesty could be found within. “I’ve liked you since we first met, and I’ve liked you since after. I can’t say when it was exactly that I…caught feelings.” Baji blushed- a rare sight. “But I mean it when I say it. I want to make this real. So…what do you say?”

Chifuyu felt his eyes mist up, and he flattened his lips to fight back the tears. “I say…I’m really happy right now.” He breathed, making Baji suck in a short breath. “I’m so happy, cause I feel the same way.”

The way his expression lit up, like Chifuyu was some sort of sacred treasure Baji had been looking for all his life- Chifuyu took that expression and tucked it deep within his chest, letting it warm him from within. “Hey…can I kiss you?” He whispered, and Chifuyu nodded, mouthing an equally soft “Yes.”

Baji leaned in and-

“Meow…” Peke-J leaped up just before their lip connected, squeezing himself between them and getting comfy on Chifuyu's chest. Baji shot back, spitting out cat hair. 

“You freaking cock-blocker of a cat-” Baji began, stopping when Chifuyu laughed.

“Pfft-ahehahhahaha! Dihiihd you just cahhahall him thahahhat?” He wheezed, the sound melting away any irritation Baji may have had for the animal and replacing it with bubbly mirth of his own. He broke out into soft chuckles, the sound growing the harder Chifuyu laughed.

“I did! Look at him- he knows what he did too!” Baji pointed, Peke-J peering up at him rather pleased. Chifuyu hooted, fanning his face.

“Gohohohod- oh god, my behehhelly!” He cried, shaking his head as his giggles died down to a soft titter. “Oh yeah…I forgot I was hungry.”

“I’ll grab one of the snacks.” Baji stood, not before walking around the couch, leaning down so he was leveled with Chifuyu. Leaning in, he pressed a quick peck to his smiling lips, finally getting his kiss. “Stay here.”

Chifuyu reached up to touch his tingling lips, watching Baji as he gathered Takemitchi’s gift.

He could get used to this.

Thanks for reading!

[secondbeatsongs]

"I Knew You Were Trouble" with every first beat removed

[harrysfolklore]

oscar piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | oscar smau

Oscar Piastri was known as the introvert and reserved driver on the grid.

While other drivers basked in the spotlight and didn't shy away from sharing details about their personal life, Oscar often preferred to keep his privacy.

However, when it came to his girlfriend, it was a different story altogether.

Oscar was what people called "a total simp" when it came to his girlfriend, always bringing her up in interviews, promo videos and casual conversations, and fans couldn't miss the opportunity to make several compilation videos and tiktoks about it.

The most popular one was called "Oscar Piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation" and the 15-minute long video was filled with moments that made fans both awe and laugh.

It started with the clip of the first time he publicly talked about her during a podcast interview, rumors about him not being single were spreading around but nothing was confirmed.

"I do have a girlfriend, yeah," Oscar said, a small smile playing on his face.

"You're not very public, aren't you?" the interviewer asked.

“We keep it to ourselves and try to be out of the spotlight and just live normal lives,” he replied, “We have been dating for over four years now, she has been there for me since the start of my career and I couldn't imagine my life without her. She's my biggest supporter and keeps me grounded.”

The next video showed Oscar and Lando sitting next to each other wearing their McLaren shirts, filming a game called "Green flag or Red flag."

"Picky eaters," the interviewer asked and Lando immediately waved the green flag.

"He's a very picky eater that's why," Oscar said, making Lando laugh, "But, what if they eat fish, cause you hate fish."

Lando dramatically raised the red flag, making everybody laugh again.

"You wouldn't date a pescatarian then," the interviewer said.

"No," Lando shook his head, "They shouldn't be here."

"My girlfriend's a pescatarian, actually," Oscar said, looking at his teammate with a raised eyebrow, "I'll pass that on to her.”

"Noooo mate!" Lando immediately shook his head, waving his hands in mock horror, "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be in trouble with your missus! She's a lovely girl."

"She is indeed, but I don't think she'll like you very much after this."

The next segment was from his "Day in the Life" video with Quad Lock, where Oscar gave fans a glimpse into his daily routine. In one particular clip, he was in the kitchen making breakfast.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Oscar said with a cheeky grin as he poured pancake batter onto a hot griddle, "My girlfriend loves pancakes, so I make them every Sunday. It's become sort of a tradition for us."

The camera then panned to a candid shot of his girlfriend, who was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and smiling fondly at Oscar. She blew him a kiss, which Oscar caught with a playful wink.

"There she is, sitting pretty while I play housewife."

The next clip in the compilation was from a press conference, where a journalist asked him how he manages to stay focused with such a demanding schedule.

"Having a supportive partner really helps," Oscar said earnestly, "She understands the pressures and the demands of the job. She’s my rock and makes everything a lot easier."

"Does it get hard for her when your schedule is too busy for your relationship?"

"My schedule is never too busy for my girlfriend, I always make sure to make time for her. That's why we've been going strong for four years now."

Another McLaren game with Lando was included, this time they were playing Finish the Lyric with Taylor Swift songs.

"Do you feel confident about this game, Oscar?" Lando asked his teammate.

"I do, actually," Oscar nodded confidently, "My girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan so I know a lot of her songs."

"We should get your girl to come and play then," Lando teased.

"She'd probably beat us both, hands down. But I'm not giving up just yet." Oscar chuckled, shaking his head.

The compilation video then transitioned to a moment in the McLaren garage before the first quali of the Hungary Grand Prix. Oscar was off to the side, chatting with his girlfriend, who had joined him for the event.

They seemed to be in their own little bubble, Oscar's attention completely focused on her and his smile wide as he listened to her talk. The camera captured a sweet moment where he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about their relationship and fans absolutely melted at the interaction.

The next clip showed Oscar at a fan event in Australia, hundreds of fans gathered to meet the drivers and see them up close, Oscar was answering questions from the interviewers when he suddenly addressed one of the fans in the front row.

"I've got a girlfriend, thank you," he said into the microphone, making everyone laugh but look confused at the same time, "For everyone wondering, she just asked what my number was," the crowd laughed again even louder, "But I'm a happily taken man. You're nice but I'm not interested."

In that same event, he got asked what did he miss the most from the UK when he was back in Australia.

"My girlfriend," he immediately said, "Other than that the food is better here, the weather is better here. So my girlfriend, that's it."

The following video was also a fan interaction, this time it was a fan recorded video while he was signing stuff for those waiting for him as he arrived to the paddock for the Austin Grand Prix.

Oscar was signing autographs and taking pictures, when a fan handed him a photo of him and his girlfriend from a race weekend.

"Oh, this is a great picture," Oscar said, grinning as he looked at the photo. "This was taken at Silverstone, right? It was her first time at a race with me. She loved it."

"What's her favorite part about the races?" The fan smiled and asked.

"Probably the adrenaline and seeing me in action," Oscar chuckled, "But she also loves hanging out in the paddock. She gets along really well with everyone here."

The next clip showcased Oscar during a Twitch stream, where he was playing a racing simulator. His girlfriend walked into the room, and the chat exploded with excitement.

"Hey, love," Oscar greeted her, pausing the game.

"Am I interrupting you?" she softly asked.

"Nope, come here," he encouraged to come closer, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend," she waved at the camera, and Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into the frame. "She's the reason I'm still sane," he joked, earning a kiss on the cheek from her.

The video included one of everyone's favorite interactions between the couple, captured by McLaren's instagram team.

Oscar had just finished a quiali, earning a P2 position, the camera caught as he reunited with his girlfriend who threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.

"Hiii," he shyly said, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"You did such a great job, baby," she said, still wrapped around his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on," he replied, his voice soft and genuine.

The final clip was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Oscar stood on the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, the Rookie of the Year trophy shining in his hands.

"First of all, I want to thank my team, McLaren, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity," Oscar began, his voice steady but emotional, "But most importantly, I want to thank my girlfriend. She's been my rock through it all, supporting me every step of the way. This award is as much hers as it is mine."

The camera panned to his girlfriend, sitting in the audience with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly. The fans watching the livestream couldn't help but gush over the touching moment.

As the compilation ended, the screen faded to black with the text, "Oscar Piastri: The Ultimate Simp, and Proud of It."

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

desperate people find faith

summary: your first mission ends with you in Jean's lab and a very worried Logan who's had trouble leaving your side wc: 2.0k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your very positive feedback on the previous fics with these two!!! I am really looking forward to writing more for them, so please feel free to send any requests for them my way, or Logan requests in general! And yes, the title is from a Taylor Swift song again. Lots of hurt/comfort in this one, talks of mushy gushy feelings, very worried Logan find the previous part here! all empath!reader fics here!

You took the cold table underneath you as a sign that something had gone wrong. You peaked one eye open before quickly squeezing it closed, the bright florescent lights too much to handle. You took a beat, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 

You remembered the jet landing in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, you and Jean searching an abandoned building looking for the young mutant that Charles had promised would be there and coming up empty. The two of you had made your way back to the jet and.. shit. The kid had freaked, and you distinctly remember taking enough damage to warrant a swift retreat back to the school. You must be downstairs, in Jean’s lab. It’s probably a bad sign that the first thing you worry about how much shit Logan is going to give you for this. 

You reached out with your power, too cautious of the lights (and the judgment of the rest of the team) to look with your eyes. A few people were mildly worried just across the room, but it was hard not to be distracted by the huge amounts of anger and exhaustion on your left. You debated facing him head on, being a grown up about it and fessing up to the fact that you were wrong. Thankfully, you could be immature when the situation called for it. You attempted to even out your breathing and smooth out the crease between your eyebrows, anything that could give you away. 

“Sweetheart?” Logan’s voice is so much softer than you were expecting, based on the waves of pure fury currently radiating off of him. 

You shush him, blinking one eye open. “I’m sleeping.” You whisper, letting your eye fall shut again. 

You felt his hand gently brush over the top of your head. His voice is closer, air tickling your ear as he leans down beside you. “Been sleeping for three days, bub. Need you to wake up now.” 

You turn your head to the side and are treated to Logan dropping a small kiss on your forehead. You can’t help but smile at the affection, eyes half open against the bright lights. After a few moments, they dim. Jean takes her place on the other side of the table, lab coat on and stethoscope in hand. You expected her to shoo Logan away in the name of a more thorough analysis but she doesn’t even attempt it. 

Logan’s hand finds your own, gripping tight enough to be just short of uncomfortable. Jean makes quick work of taking your diagnostics, and gently informs you that besides feeling fatigued, you are just fine. 

That can’t be right. 

You know that you caught the brunt of the impact, it was beginning to come back to you. The young mutant had lashed out, and before you’d had the chance to get close, he’d sent a car flying towards you and Jean. She’d managed to counteract it with her own mutation, firmly shoving you out of the way. But she hadn’t been fast enough to catch the small metal spikes he’d also thrown. There was no way you should be ‘just fine’ by now. 

Either Jean was in your head or the confusion was showing clearly on your face. She gave you a tight smile, eyes darting between you and the door. She took a few steps back, clearly intent of making her exit. “Jean, wait, there’s no way-”

She gave you her please stop talking smile. “I think it’s best if this comes from him,” she nodded at Logan, placing her stethoscope and clipboard on the side table. “I’ll be back in a bit to do one final check before we clear you.” She gives you another smile that didn’t meet her eyes, and then she was gone. 

You began to sit up slowly, still in shock that there was little to no pain, only stiffness from being immobile for too long. “What is she talking about?” Logan huffed, supporting you with a hand on your back. “What’s going on?” 

One hand made long, slow strokes up and down your spine, while the other had not loosened it’s grip on your own since you’d woken up. His eyebrows were scrunched together, the tell tale sign of his thinking face. You tried your best not to rush him, but everything about the situation was so confusing and your mind was racing. You were far too healed, and he was being far too calm for the anger that was rolling off go him, still. 

“Didn’t expect me to just sit around when you came back one foot in the grave, did ya?” 

“I’m sorry if me coming back banged up gave you extra work, I just don’t understand why you’re so upset with me.” 

His eyes went wide, the hand on your back stilling. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.” The tremble in his voice almost had you convinced. 

“Don’t lie to me about it,” you help up your hand, still firmly entwined with his. “I can tell.” 

“I’m notmad at you, bub.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips, peppering it with kisses. “I’m mad at the little fuck who did this to you, I’m mad that they let this happen, and I’m furious with myself that I wasn’t there.” 

“He’s just a kid, Logan.” 

His shoulders shook with silent laughter, a stark white dancing at the edge of his emotions now. Shock. “You almost died, and your first instinct is to defend the little asshole responsible.” 

You leaned forward, bumping your shoulder against his chest in warning. “I feel fine.” He nodded, taking a deep breath in through his nose while his hand not currently locked with yours resumed it’s path up and down your back. You let it go on for a few moments, appreciating the silence and the grounding effect of his touch. “Do you… wanna fill me in on why exactly that is?” 

He sucked in a breath, shoulders visibly tense. “We were lucky that Hank was stopping by for a visit.” He played with your fingers, distracting himself. You tilted your head to the side, wondering why that information was important at a time like this. “When they brought you in, god there was so much blood. Jean managed to take care of a lot of it, but she didn’t know when, or uh, if you were going to wake up.” He blew out a breath, steadying himself. “You know that Hank has been asking for a long time-”

Both of your hands gripped his tightly. “Tell me you didn’t.” 

Hank had been asking for ages to use some of Logan’s blood to synthesize a more advanced healing serum for the X-Men. It was rare they came back with more than bumps and bruises, but he was a worrier and felt that Logan was the key to making something truly effective. The only problem? Logan hated needles. You’d only gotten bits and pieces from him about why, but you had a hunch that when you were alive for as long as he had been, people were willing to poke and prod for some answers. He’d never admit it, but you had felt how terrified he was the last time he’d been down hard after a mission, and Jean had tried to give him an IV of fluids to speed up the regeneration. It hadn’t ended well, to say the least. 

“I should’ve done it sooner. Seeing you like this, knowing I could have done something about it.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. 

Cautiously, you fit yourself against him, arms tight around his neck and your chest flush with his own. You half expected him to reprimand you, to remind you that you should be careful, not to move too much. Instead, he held you tightly, the side of his face pressed against the top of your head. The two of you stayed like that for a good long while, reveling in the comfort of the other. 

“I know you think that you only did it because,” you paused, steeling yourself. “Because it was me.” You can feel him trying to pull away, but you mold yourself to him even more tightly, knowing that if he really wanted to he could break away from you like it was nothing. “You’re wrong. You would have done this for anyone.” 

“Except for-”

“Even for Scott.” You were quick to cut him off, unwilling to hear him being so harsh on himself.

You pulled back, just enough so that you were able to meet his eyes. You needed him to know that you are being earnest. “You are a good man, Logan. And before you even try to deny it or say I’m lying I know you can hear my heart beat. And I know you can tell when people are lying. And besides, I’ve never ever lied to you, have I?” He shakes his head slowly, one tear falling, and a few more after that. You reached up, brushing them away. He grabbed your hand, gently placing a kiss on your wrist, and then your palm. 

“Y’scared me, sweetheart.” He murmured, voice muffled by your palm still against his lips. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

You slide your hand to cup the side of his face, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You know I can’t guarantee that.” His eyes closed for a moment, and you knew he was doing his best not to shout. “I will always be careful, but I can’t stay back and leave the work to everyone else. If I can help, I’m gonna help.” 

His eyes narrowed, the tiniest hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Fine. But we’re getting you trained up and you aren’t going out there without me again for a good long while.” 

You rolled your eyes, the both of you well aware there was no ill will behind it. “If you insist.” 

“I absolutely do.” He pulled you back into his chest, keeping you there until Jean peaked her head in through the door. 

“If you two are done being mushy, there are a few people who have been dying to see you.” 

Ororo rushed into the room, playfully shoving Logan away to scoop you into her arms. She gently checked you over, ignoring the fact that you’d already had several medical professionals on the case. Scott clasped you on the shoulder, reassuring you that for a first mission, this was a success. You laughed before shooting Logan a look that begged him to let it pass. He huffed, but nodded all the same. 

“Shocked we didn't have to keep him from trying to tear the kid apart, but he refused to leave the lab.” Scott nodded his head at Logan, who was continuing to shuffle closer to the table where you sat. 

Well, you would be dutifully ignoring the latter half of Scott's quip, instead choosing to focus on the young mutant. “You mean he's?” 

Scott smiled, nodding. “He’s settling in upstairs.” 

You grinned, glad to know that it hadn’t all been for nothing. You fixed your gaze on Logan, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t even think about failing him out of history as some kind of weird revenge, I’ll know and I will find a way to get back at you for it.” 

Your friends laughed around you, let you know that Charles has ordered in your favorite take out for dinner and started to filter out of the room. Eventually, you and Logan are left alone again, sitting side by side on the metal table. 

“You still owe me an important conversation, ya know.” You bump your shoulder against his. You stay there, pressed against his side with your head leaning on his shoulders. His hand rests on your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Maybe wait until you aren’t in a hospital gown, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes, clearly aware that he was deflecting, but still content to take in his warmth and quiet support. You were safe, and you were home. Not just at school, but with him.

[redeemingvillains]

riddle's girl - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo has…feelings about you wearing his quidditch jersey

word count: 2.5k

a/n: just more fluffy sweetness! in my mind this takes place shortly after cold comfort, but they're really unrelated so this can be read as a standalone! ♡

There weren't a lot of things Mattheo liked about being a prefect. He had no interest in being the Slytherin house snitch, in shutting down parties or telling kids they couldn't smoke in the bathroom. So, he didn't do any of it; he threw parties, stole their joints and dared anyone to tell him he couldn't do otherwise.

There weren't many people willing to stand up to the Dark Lord's son, and those that were were pulling the same shit right alongside him. So, he did none of the work but got all of the perks, up to and including having his own room, which, once he started dating you turned out to be just about his favorite thing in the world, and, also, a necessity if the rest of the castle didn't want to be up listening to the two of you at all hours of the night... and morning... and afternoon.

He smirked as he hurried through the halls, eager to get to you, knowing you would be in his room now waiting for him. It was a few hours before his first quidditch match of the year and you were his good luck charm, a necessary part of his pre-match routine.

As he whispered the password to the entrance of his room, he could hear your music playing as you sang along softly to it, probably Taylor Swift, which he'd tell you to turn off but now so closely associated with you that he found himself listening to her even when you weren't around (though he'd deny it to anyone that asked).

He smiled as he walked through the door and took in the sight in front of him: there were little parts of you scattered all over the room, which felt just as much yours as it was his; stacks of your books and a flickering candle took over his bookshelf, a bra and an unkempt pile of clothes on his chair, and you were seated at his desk which you had taken over completely to do your makeup, leaning into a small mirror applying mascara before you caught his eye and turned to face him excitedly.

"Hi!" you said, even more bubbly than usual as you popped up and walked over to him, nearly throwing yourself into his arms as he caught your lips with his own and pulled you into him.

"Mmpf!" you mumbled against his lips in surprise before pulling away. "Wait, wait wait, what do you think?" you said, stepping back to show him your outfit with your arms extended even as he made grabby hands trying to pull you back.

You were in one of his team-issued quidditch jerseys; it engulfed you, coming to the midpoint of your thighs which were bare, the sight an absolute vision that had every part of him twitching to toss you onto the bed.

"Fucking hot" he said with a smirk, his brown eyes wide and twinkling. "Maybe put some pants on before you go, but that sounds like a problem for later us."

"Matty!" you laughed, smacking his arm to scold him before you turned to give him the 360-degree view.

You paused with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side and looking over your shoulder at him... and he swore his heart stopped beating in his chest as he fully registered the sight in front of him: You. Wearing his last name. "Riddle" prominently spelled out on the back of the jersey.

His eyebrows drew together and he brought his hand to his chest, subconsciously resting on his heart, a look of discomfort on his face that immediately had you turning back to him.

"Oh—are you— is this okay?" you asked.

It was tradition for girlfriends to wear their boyfriends' jerseys the first match of the year, but you two had barely just started dating and you had never talked about this; he truthfully didn't seem into this kind of thing and now you were worried you'd taken things too far.

Mattheo still hadn't said anything, still had trouble catching his breath. Conceptually he understood it was just you in his jersey, but you wearing his last name like that had shifted something inside him. YN Riddle, YN Riddle was all he could think in his head, how much he liked the sound of it, and what that meant... he was a fucking goner for you. You had turned his life on its head in the short period of time you two had been dating and he had no intention of scaring you away with the idea of marriage months into a relationship - what the hell was the matter with him??

...And who says you'd even want to marry him or take his name for that matter? No one in their right mind would want to marry into his family or take a name that was spoken like a curse. He thought of the way people spit it out of their mouths, like they hated the very taste of it on their tongue. He couldn't, wouldn't do that to you, realizing finally that what he was looking at in front of him was a mirage at best, a nightmare at worst. The whole situation and the frustration of it all made him furious.

You were looking at him with a puzzled expression on your face and he realized you'd asked him something.

"It's...I don't know..." he mumbled, his head still whirling.

"You don't...know?" About us? you thought.

"I...don't know... it's...." he was trying to come up with the words to say but kept getting angrier and angrier. "Fucking hell" he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. And now you were certain you'd overdone it and put too much pressure on your relationship.

"It's fine, I'll take it off, I don't have to wear it" you said, turning to look for your discarded clothes as much to hide the tears in your eyes. You pulled your jeans on, pulled the jersey off and covered yourself with your sweater before he could register what was happening. He could sense the swift change in your mood but was still trying so hard to figure out his own feelings he was struggling to keep up.

"If you want to, you can—"

"—It's fine" you replied quickly, your voice wobbling. You were grabbing your things and walking out and Mattheo couldn't fathom what he had done wrong other than dream of a world where you could have his last name.

"Good luck" you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as you left.

What the fuck just happened he thought.

The wind whipped wildly through Mattheo's curls and he bobbed on his broom against the gusts, his eyes never leaving your seat in the stands no matter where he flew. The game whizzed around him and he was doing the bare minimum to contribute, his mind unable to focus on anything but your earlier conversation.

He had tried to catch your eye a few times but you seemed intent on avoiding his gaze, intent on focusing on the people around you and when you turned to talk to the girl behind you and he saw Malfoy's name on your back he nearly lost his grip and slipped off his broom.

Draco was like a brother to you, and you were seated next to his girlfriend Pansy in her own matching jersey, so it wasn't jealousy that reared its ugly head, but something much deeper, something possessive that simmered inside of him. That should be my name he thought as he gripped his broom so hard his knuckles turned white. She's fucking mine.

"Get your damn head in the game will you?" a teammate shouted as they flew by. But now the chances of that happening were even slimmer. You. His girlfriend. Wearing Malfoy's fucking name.

Mattheo seemed...off.

He was missing passes, dropping the quaffle, just generally out of it, which was completely uncharacteristic for one of Slytherin's star players. You didn't know for sure, but you couldn't help but feel like you were a contributing factor, that the conversation you'd had... or didn't really have earlier was to blame. You twiddled the rings on your fingers with anxiety and you began to feel guilt welling up when Mattheo suddenly dropped out of play, beelining towards the coaches and team staff gathered on the grass of the pitch.

"What the hell is he doing now?" Pansy huffed.

Mattheo was off his broom and storming towards a group of third years that helped the team by washing jerseys and mending brooms, and he grabbed one of them by the front of the robes so hard he nearly pulled him off his feet. He was shouting at him, telling him something, and the kid looked like he wanted to cry. He was nodding violently with every sentence Mattheo said before Mattheo turned and pointed to you.

At this point the entire stadium was murmuring and it had nothing to do with the game. People loved to watch Matteo play on a regular day and now whispers were flying faster than broomsticks at the scene unfolding in front of the entire school.

The kid gave one last violent nod before running at a full sprint up into the stands, back towards the castle and Mattheo was back on his broom to a cacophony of cheers as he flew past you.

Your cheeks were flushed cherry red at the thought that he had stopped in the middle of his game to talk about you... surely that wasn't the case. Was it? The box around you was full of excited whispers and Pansy nudged you conspiratorially with raised eyebrows.

"I have no idea what's going" you hissed back, in an effort to keep things quiet.

Not ten minutes later, the whispers around you turned to murmurs again that got louder and louder until you turned to see the third year from earlier, nearly purple in the face from exertion tripping over himself and the people around him.

"M'looking for YN, YN, Riddle's girl?"

Riddle's girl.

The jersey on your back hadn't fooled a soul, they all pointed to you. He nearly collapsed at your feet, as he held up his hand, Mattheo's jersey fisted in his fingers as he huffed and puffed.

"Ma—Mattheo—Mattheo wants you to wear this. P-Please. Please put it on. Idon'twanthimtokillme, he said he would kill me if you didn't, I-I really think he meant it" he said through gasping breaths as his eyes watered.

Your hand covered your mouth to hide your smile.

"He is not going to kill you" you said reassuringly, as you let out a small laugh, the big bad Mattheo everyone was so afraid of so different than the boy you knew so well.

"But c-can you please put it on. Please. Just to be sure?" he whimpered.

You thought about his words as you ran your finger over the fabric of Mattheo's name. 'Mattheo wants you to wear this.' He had stopped in the middle of his match to make a kid go get it, you weren't going to say no. You pulled it on over your sweater, enjoying the lingering smell of him that now engulfed you as you blushed to yourself.

Mattheo was watching out of the corner of his eye as he dodged a bludger, and when he turned to see you wearing his name, a soft smile on your lips, he felt a calm settle over him, as something warm settled in his chest. Pride he realized after a moment. Pride for his last name, and pride for you in it.

Mattheo had turned the tide of the game scoring three goals and leading Slytherin to a victory. The crowd was buzzing with excitement as you bustled your way towards the locker room to wait for him. You could hear the team chanting and singing in celebration and you were ready to wait a long time for him to finally break away from his friends, but it was only minutes before he pushed through the door.

The crowd that had gathered cheered for him but he didn't respond, his eyes scanning the horde before they landed on you. He shoved a few people out of the way before the rest cleared a path for him and when he was finally in front of you, you couldn't help but glow at him, proud of the way he played and warm and fuzzy inside at all that he'd done for you.

"Babe—!" you started as he smiled at you, and then he grasped your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your lips inciting a loud round of shouts and cheers around you. He smelled like wet leather from his gloves, grass, dirt and sweat and yet it was intoxicating to you, because it was him. He let go of you only briefly enough to flip your onlookers the middle finger before he guided you quickly away from prying eyes.

"C'mon" he said.

"Oh! Okay—bye, Pansy" you said, waving at her as she winked at you.

Mattheo held you firmly at a fast pace until you were away from the crowd.

"Hey-hey slow down!" you said, pulling him to a stop. "...Thank you for that." Your eyes were wide and warm as they looked up at him. "I know it's silly, and maybe it felt a little too fast or too serious or something" you said, your words flying out as you tried to explain it. "I just—it's—I'm yours and I want people to know that. I'm proud it."

He cleared his throat and looked around, trying to rearrange his face so as not to show the emotion that was welling up inside of him. Proud. You were proud. Of him, to be his. He looked back at you glowing up at him like a godsdamn angel and wondered what the fuck he ever did to deserve you.

"Told you it looked good on you" is all he could manage at first, and a warm smile lit your face, but you waited patiently, knowing there was more, knowing just how much his brain tended to work in overdrive.

"Look, my name, it's not...good... it's not something to be proud of. People hate it, fuck, I hate it—" he said as he ran his hand through his hair and avoided your gaze, never having come close to saying anything like this out loud before. He swallowed before he felt your hand slip into his and looked down at you. "—But seeing you in it?... I don't know... made me think...maybe it doesn't always have to be that way..."

Now you were trying to rearrange your face, biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.

He searched your expression desperately, were those good tears, sad tears?

You slid your arms around him and hugged him to you, pressing your body against his and he relaxed into your arms.

"So, yeah, it's yours if you want it" he said, as he nuzzled into you, referring to the jersey, and his last name too...one day.

"Of course I do" you said adamantly.

He pulled back and captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply, passionately, sending your heart aflutter in your chest.

"Now I think you owe me my favorite part of my pre-match routine, Riddle" he whispered against your lips.

"Gladly" you whispered back against his lips.

[amongemeraldclouds]

Fresh Out The Slammer

A questionable kidnapping leads to a revenge plan backfiring (fluff).

Lorenzo Berkshire x f!Reader

Warning: fluff, one use of y/n, cursing, mildly violent thoughts. Has one magical rule that’s not canon, using my creative license here to drive the plot. Based on the Taylor Swift song with the same title.

✿ Masterlist | 860 words

“I need to see my Cormyyy!” You whined, trying to twist away from Enzo’s grip on your shoulders as he led you down the hall.

Mattheo saw you struggling against Enzo and walked towards the two of you with a smirk. “We’ve been through a lot of shenanigans over the years, but I never imagined kidnapping would be one of them,” he whispered to Enzo as he and Blaise joined you.

“Stop sounding so pleased,” Blaise chided Mattheo.

“Cormac, that wanker had the gall to give y/n Amortentia the day after she publicly broke up with him. I’ve got to help her,” Enzo whispered back, explaining.

“Enzie’s got a little crush,” Mattheo teased, poking him on his side.

“Piss off if you’re not going to help,” Enzo huffed.

“What are you whispering about? Take me to my Cormyy!” You whined.

“Nothing, your bloody Cormy is right this way,” Enzo replied quickly. He grit his teeth as he fantasized a literally bloody Cormac after he beat him up with his fists. 

Never mind the amusement and hope he felt when he witnessed you finally come to your senses and realize what a tosser Cormac was. All that was crushed when the potion took over your mind tonight and you forgot you asked Enzo to meet up because you needed to tell him something. 

“Theo would know what to do,” Mattheo suggested.

“I just saw him at the common room,” Blaise added and the four of you headed there.

Theo looked up from his book when you approached. Noticing the struggling girl, he lifted his eyebrow, “we’re kidnapping now?”

“Who’s being kidnapped? I’m here to see my darling, Cormyy!” You squealed, clasping your hands together, giggling at the thought of how wonderful he was. Theo’s eyes widened, he was with Enzo when they watched you dump him.

“We need your help,” Enzo declared.

“Clearly,” Theo said, thinking through his knowledge of Amortentia. You weren’t exactly friends with the infamous Slytherin boys, but Enzo had drooled over you, his partner in Divination class, long enough for them to know about you.

“Do you know how we can undo the potion’s effects?” Enzo asked.

“Well it would take too long to brew an antidote and we don’t know if we can get all the ingredients,” he replied.

Theo’s knee bounced as he willed himself to remember something useful. “Some texts say that because Amortentia cannot actually produce real love, a kiss from someone who loves her might break the spell.” At least that’s what Theo probably read, the gears in his mind continued spinning as Enzo approached you.

Everyone looked at Enzo expectantly and his cheeks blushed. “Come on, you did not go through all this trouble just because she’s your Divination partner,” Mattheo encouraged.

“Okay,” Enzo approached you and you scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion. “I’ll take you to Cormac after this. I just have to save you first. Also because I want to,” he admitted, “but if you hate it then punch me or hex me when you’re better.” Before his words could sink in, his lips were on you.

“Wait!” Theo called out, “I remembered it wrong. It has to be someone she loves! Not the other way around.” Enzo quickly pulled away, but it was too late. He did not need to get rejected indirectly by a potion. Never mind you hexing him, he might as well hex himself in shame.

That was until you blinked. You placed your hand on your head as the world spun for a second and Enzo quickly caught you. “Bloody potion,” you spat, wrinkling your nose in disgust as you recalled your potion-induced obsession.

Blaise grabbed Mattheo and Theo’s arm, leading them to the dorms. “Come on, seems there are things they need to discuss.” 

“Then we beat up Cormac,” Mattheo called back.

“Count me in!” You exclaimed as you stood upright.

“She’s a keeper!” Mattheo mock whispered to Enzo, pointing at you.

Enzo chuckled, “already looking for trouble?”

“Oh my punches won’t just be for the potion. When I’m done with Cormy,” you shuddered at the nickname, “he’d regret even breathing in my direction.”

“Before that, can we talk about what happened?” Enzo asked. “You said you wanted to tell me something tonight?”

You blushed, your anger giving way to butterflies in your stomach. “Well, the potion probably said it better than I could have,” you recalled Theo’s words just as the potion released you from its grip. “I really like you, Enzo. I broke up with Cormac when I realized that. He may have actually helped me with his foolishness. Maybe I should thank him,” you considered.

“No,” you decided after a moment, “I still want to beat him up.” Enzo chuckled in response.

“Don’t worry, we’ll deal with him. First,” he said moving closer to you, “I really like you too. We make such a great team in class, I’d love to see what else we’d be good at as partners. For instance, are you certain the potion completely lost its effect? Maybe we should break the spell again a few more times to be sure.”

Your eyes glinted with mischief and desire. “Oh yes, we need to be thorough,” you agreed as his lips crashed into yours.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: I haven't written for Enzo in a while, glad I could add him to my series of TTPD one shots!

[jgracie]

GOLD RUSH — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF HADES

masterlist | rules

❝ could you write headcanons of percy x daughter of hades (or persephone) reader? ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a daughter of hades

pairing percy jackson x hades!reader

warnings makeout scene but it’s very short and not explicit dw

on the radio . . . gold rush (taylor swift)

For many years, it’s always been Percy and you, you and Percy

Ever since he found you and your half-siblings, Bianca and Nico, at your old middle school, you’d been inseparable

You were distraught when you discovered the truth about your dad’s side of the family and how you missed out on the majority of your life because of it, but Percy made it all better, comforting and guiding you through the world behind the mist

It was only natural for you to end up falling for him, especially as the two of you grew up and he grew into his features, becoming increasingly handsome

However, you’re a daughter of Hades, and brought misfortune everywhere you went, so you vowed to simply watch from afar as Percy dated some other girl. Sure, you’d be miserable, but at least he’d be happy.

Besides, it's not like he’d have any trouble finding a nice girlfriend. You weren’t an idiot, you saw the way the majority of girls at camp swooned over him, dying to be in your position as you walked to the beach together

That decision is what put you in your current position. In order to distract yourself from Percy, you’d constantly pretend to have crushes on random people and accept any date proposal from any guy, a part of you hoping he’ll fill the Percy-shaped hole in your heart

Percy didn’t see you the way you saw yourself. To him, you were perfect. You’re the daughter of death, sure, but the way you breathed life into him every time you smiled said otherwise 

From the moment he met you at 13, Percy had fallen hard. The thing is, he didn’t think he had a chance. To you, he was just the best friend you’d rant to about the guys you actually wanted to date, not the one you’d go out with

And whenever they broke your heart, Percy was the guy you’d run to. He’d cradle you and smother you with as much affection he could get away with every time, fighting the urge to beat that guy up for hurting you, knowing he could do so much better if you just gave him a chance

“I just really thought he’d be the one, Perce,” you mumbled into his chest, your eyes fixed on the movie in front of you. Some guy - Apollo? Nemesis? Percy didn’t really care - asked you out on a date in the mortal world, then proceeded to stand you up, not even bothering to fake an excuse

The mere thought of you standing out there in the awful rain, all alone, made Percy seethe with rage. Noticing the glass of water in front of him begin to shake, Percy calmed himself down, choosing to instead rub your back and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you cried

If he was that guy, he wouldn’t have stood you up. In fact, he would’ve picked you up from your cabin himself in order to ensure your safety on the journey

Little did Percy know, you weren’t crying because of being stood up. Sure, it was a little embarrassing, but you didn’t care about that son of Nike at all. He just saw you as a competition to win. Once he’d gotten you to agree to go out with him and humiliated you in front of random mortals, he considered his job done

You were upset because you were sick of your heart. Every date, whether good or bad, never resulted in your feelings for Percy going away. On the contrary, they got stronger every time, as you’d analyse your date’s every move and think, ‘Percy wouldn’t do something like that’ at every minor inconvenience

As Artemis drove her moon chariot in the sky, the two of you sent opposite prayers to whoever happened to be listening, the desperation in your thoughts being the only thing they had in common

Still, you continued to date random people. Percy continued to feel his heart shatter every time you barged into his cabin to tell him all about this new guy you met, already able to guess the outcome 

Just as you were about to lose hope, Aphrodite sent you an angel. Marcus was a son of Hecate, beautiful in the way petrichor feels like a warm hug, and he liked you

You could tell almost immediately, from the way his eyes seemed incapable of meeting yours to the rhythmic tapping of his feet as he spoke to you. And he was cute too. Was he Percy-level cute? No, no one could be that cute, but he was definitely up there

So, you bided your time. Maybe he would be the one you were waiting for. When he asked you out on a date, you couldn’t be happier, agreeing before he could even finish his sentence and running to tell Percy

Percy could tell Marcus was different. You spoke of him like he held the sky above the Earth, your eyes sparkling

He had to do something about this. He couldn’t stand around waiting for you anymore, and he couldn’t believe it took him this long to realise it

While you prepared for your date with Marcus, Percy decided to seek advice from the only woman in his life he believed he could trust to handle his situation

Sally Jackson made her way over to her son, handing him a plate of cookies and ruffling his hair before sitting in front of him, “so, what did you wanna talk about?” She asked, concerned. She’d never seen Percy like this before

“Well… you know Y/N, right?” He began, biting into a cookie. She nodded, already having an idea as to where this conversation was heading

Sighing, Percy continued, “I really like her, mom. I’ve liked her for years now, but she seems to have eyes for anyone but me. Before, it didn’t bother me that much, but now she’s going on a date with this Hecate kid and I can tell he’s different from all the other ones and I just don’t know what to do. I thought about sabotaging it somehow, she doesn’t deserve to have her date ruined.”

The answer to his problem was so obvious Sally had to stop herself from pulling her hair out, “why don’t you just tell her that? Speak from the heart, Percy. Y/N’s a nice girl, even if she doesn’t like you back, she won’t hate you for it.”

His mother was so smart. Percy had to tell you, even if the only thing he’d get out of his confession is a weight lifted off his shoulders. Suddenly, he was filled with adrenaline as he remembered that your date was today.

Grabbing the remaining cookies and stuffing them into his bag, Percy yelled a jumbled-up excuse to his mother then ran out of the door and all the way to the nearest taxi

Once he got there, he made his way to your cabin, nearly breaking down the door as he entered

“Y/N please don’t go on that date!” He nearly screamed. You were dressed in pyjamas with a face mask on and watching a movie, which confused Percy. You should be getting ready by now

“I’m not going, Marcus caught a cold from one of his siblings, so we rescheduled to next week,” you answered, then, when what he requested of you finally clicked in your head, “why do you care?” 

“Because you should be going on a date with me,” Percy said, finally calming down, “I love you more than anyone in this whole camp, Y/N. I’ve loved you since we were 13, but I was too nervous to do anything about it. I’m sorry if this ruins your date with Marcus, I know you were really looking forward to it and–” Percy stopped talking when he noticed the expression on your face

You were beaming. The way light from the window shone on your face would have anyone mistaking you for a child of Apollo, “I love you too, Percy. I’ll cancel on Marcus. Do you wanna watch this with me?” 

Honestly, you and Percy dating didn’t change much in your relationship. You became a little more touchy and were no longer afraid to declare your adorations to the other, but other than that, Percy was still the same guy you’d been crushing on all these years

It took people at camp a while to realise you’re a couple because of this. The Aphrodite cabin knew, but no one else believed them until they caught you guys making out behind cabin 3

You gasped for air as Percy finally let go of your lips. What started as a mere kiss turned into another, then three, then a whole make-out session behind his cabin, "Perce, we're in public, there are kids in camp," you said, the smile on your face growing

"Don't care," Percy replied, locking lips with you yet again, "love you so much," he said in between breaths. You didn't pull away, content with staying on cloud nine with him, for eternity

Well, it would've been an eternity if it weren't for the sound of gasps and cheers pulling you down to Earth. You pushed Percy away from you, too shy to look anyone in the eye after what just happened. Meanwhile, Percy just smirked as he heard exclaims of, "I told you they were a thing!"

Soon enough, news spread and made its way to a certain half-brother of yours, who wasn’t afraid to give Percy a lengthy description detailing what’d happen to him if he even thought of hurting you

Nico knowing meant Hades found out too. You have a good relationship with your dad, visiting him and your stepmother, Persephone, every once in a while

So, Nico also came bearing a message from Hades, who swore on the Styx to do everything in his power to put Percy in the Fields of Punishment if he ever caused you any pain 

Percy wasn’t intimidated by any of these threats, since he knew he’d hurt himself before laying a finger on you

Sally is SO delighted that the two of you are a couple. Honestly, she was the first to see it when Percy first brought you over, she just didn’t say anything because she wanted you guys to figure it out on your own 

She adores you so much though. Percy thinks she loves you more than she loves him sometimes. She’s always giving him little trinkets and baked goods to give to you!!

You sparred together all the time before you started dating, since as children of the big three, you’re only allowed to fight each other. However, since you started dating, you noticed Percy start to loosen up a little

He thinks you don’t know but you do. He doesn’t want to hurt you!!!

Every day, Percy makes it his mission to prove that just because you’re a daughter of Hades, doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. So far, he hasn’t failed

[maybankswhore]

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄.

SUMMARY: you didn’t mean to fall in love with jj maybank. you knew how it would end. and yet his charming smile and blonde hair blinded you from the ugly truth and now you were engaged to rafe cameron , and stuck with jj’s love in your soul.

WARNINGS: arranged marriages , mutual pining , reader with daddy issues & mild language.

PAIRINGS: rafe cameron x reader + jj maybank x reader.

“ oh i can’t , stop you putting roots in my dreamland. my house of stone your ivy grows , and now i’m covered in you. ”

“I’m JJ.”

You had remembered the first time you had met him like it was yesterday. You could close your eyes and feel the cool breeze on your skin and hear the waves crashing against one another. Your stomach still fluttered the exact same way , the skin of your cheeks turning a similar shade of red as you pictured the way he had stood in front of you. Cut of jean shorts , a old and tattered Coors Lite t–shirt with the sleeves torn off.

He had a boyish grin on his face when he approached. Smelling of stale weed and spearmint— a scent that had become your favorite mix.

You were reluctant. You tried brushing him off , giving short answers. You weren’t even supposed to be on the cut anyway. Sarah had convinced you to sneak out with her , something that was unusual for you. Just by the look of him made your heart pitter patter in a way that just felt . . . wrong. JJ Maybank was nothing but trouble for you and you knew that. But you couldn’t fight him off. You couldn’t shake the feeling of him away , the desire to know him and the girlish bubble of warmth that encased you that night was hard for you to ignore.

That night was only the beginning. You had found yourself sneaking out more often. Your father started to annoy you more , and every time he’d try and talk to you about what was to happen in six months , the quicker you tried to avoid it.

Life with JJ was different. It was different but good. He was adventurous , always helping push you to do things you wouldn’t have normally done. The way he saw the world , how he lived it , brought a sense of longing to you. His eyes were like the ticket to freedom and it was easy to forget with him.

Falling in love with him just happened. It was silly and cliche to think that it was love at first sight. You felt childish thinking that way but every time you replayed that night in your head , something in your chest just knew. It knew that JJ was the boy that you had always dreamed about. The boy all girls wished to find , to love.

It was the fourth month when things got harder. Your father had plans. Big ones. And the closer it got to your eighteenth birthday , the faster he tried to push the process.

“You know the Cameron’s are a great deal around here.” Said your father during a Sunday dinner. “Wards boy would take care of you.”

It had been so silent , you could hear a hair pin drop. Everyone’s eyes were on you , awaiting to here your answer. Your heart was beating so loud , you were afraid it’d beat out of your chest and fall out on the dinner table. Your fork scraped against the expensive china with distaste.

“Well?”

“I’m not—” you opened your mouth to protest but you just didn’t know how. You were so used to being the best girl for him. Always done up to look pretty at his business dinners. Making the best grades so he could boast about you and make his ego inflated. That is what you were taught and that is what you were to do. “I mean , can’t we wait a little bit longer?”

“Rafe isn’t going to wait around for a wife forever , Y/N.” He told you sternly. “You’ve known about this since you were sixteen. Your mother and I need this. You need this. You won’t have to want for nothing in your life.”

God , your stomach had been so sick. You tossed and turned all night , soaking your pillow with tears. There was this ache in your chest you couldn’t shake. A dull pain that lingered throughout the day. None of it was sitting right with you. And the inability to change it.

Another month went by and Midsummers had came. The day left a dry socket in your mouth. JJ had promised to be there , kissing you goodbye the night before and telling you he’d find a way to sneak in at least one dance.

You should’ve told him then.

This big secret , this big lie , hung over your head like a bad dream. You just thought that you could ignore it. That it’d go away. You wanted to tell him. You knew you needed to break it off with him— but you were selfish. You were selfish and just a girl in love with a boy you couldn’t have.

What were you to do?

It came as a surprise when Rafe had cornered you. A sly smirk on his face as he approached you cowering away in the corner with a bad stomachache. “Well don’t you look gorgeous.”

You could only force a smile so big. Swallowing the harsh lump in your throat as you muttered a small: “Thank you,” in return.

“I’m sure you know what our parents have been talking about all summer.” Rafe hummed at you. His eyes drinking you in. You shifted uncomfortable under his gaze and your eyes refused to meet his. “I’m a man of my word , Y/N. And I never let my father down.”

You grimaced. “I’m aware.”

Rafe had leaned in so close that his breath fanned at this skin of your ear. You bit back the need to push him away and only hid the expression of disdain.

“I know your little secret with that dirty Pogue. . .” his words were icey. The tone of his voice caused a sinking feeling in your stomach and a swirl of panic within you. “I don’t like to share what’s mine and I don’t plan to start. You tell him or I will.”

And with that Rafe had backed up and left you alone to rush into the bathroom in tears , with nothing but overwhelming hopelessness. You weren’t his. You never would be.

Not when JJ Maybank had already implanted himself inside of you , tangling up with your soul so tightly that it was hard to breathe without him.

When the time came to finally tell him. He had already knew. Word got out and Kiara had gotten to him first.

He stood in front of you on the beach. The very same beach , the very same spot that he had first met you.

You bounced over to him ready to see him. You had missed him. But the smile on your face fell when you were met with a teary eyed JJ.

“You’re marrying him?”

The look on your face said it all. You stammered out something that resembled a response but all it sounded like was blubbering. A humorous , dry laugh escaped JJ’s throat as he looked away from you. Hands tugging at his hair. “No fuckin’ way.”

“JJ please— you don’t— you don’t understand.” You tried reasoning. A lump already forming in your throat as you tried to find some way to ease the situation.

“How long have you been seein’ him?” JJ fired the question at you. His emotions on fire as he shifted between anger and hurt and most of all— betrayal. “What the fuck was this?” He motioned between the two of you. “Was I just a stupid fuckin’ game? Something to piss off daddy?”

His words were like knives. You shook your head at him quickly. “JJ no! Of course not. I love you. I haven’t been seeing him— I haven’t!”

“Yet your marrying him!” JJ shouted. “I gotta say , Y/N. You really got me good. I thought. . .” the crack in his voice only made you cry harder. “I thought you were different.”

“I didn’t have a say! I didn’t have a choice!” Your own voice scared you. It was loud , raw. Your eyes chased his pacing body around the beach desperately. “I tried talking my father out of it. He’s had this arrangement in the books for years and I didn’t know until before I met you. Before everything changed for me. I—”

“Then why? Why did you keep coming around? Why did you keep seeing me if you knew. . .” JJ felt like a pussy. He was so angry. So mad at the world and the circumstances. His friends told him not to go and fall in love with you. They told him to leave you alone. But he was too hard headed and infatuated to listen. You had made him feel things he never even considered feeling before— he loved you without even knowing what love was.

“I tried JJ.” You reasoned. “I tried staying away but I just couldn’t. I—” you shook your head as you tried to find anything you could to make it better but you knew there was nothing. “I love you so much.” You told him breathlessly. “And I hate that I wasn’t honest with you but I just thought I could change it. That it wasn’t real.”

JJ couldn’t stand anymore. He feel to his knees , dropping onto to the sand as he felt that organ in his chest slowly come to a stop. Everything was happening so fast. He had just got you and before he knew it , you were leaving. JJ didn’t know if he could recover from this. He fell for you too hard , too fast. “I can’t watch you marry him. I just can’t. Not when. . .” he sighed deeply and looked up at you. Eyes glazed and sad. “Not when I’m the one you should be with.”

You kneeled down in front of him. Sniffling a bit as you tried calming down. You reached out to touch his face softly and JJ let out another cry , absentmindedly leaning into the palm of your hand. “I am so sorry , JJ. I’m just so sorry.”

JJ was quiet for a minute. His eyes were screwed shut hoping that when he opened them again , everything would just be a bad dream. Though it wasn’t. And he was met with your sad eyes looking back at him with regret.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit.” JJ scoffed. “There’s always a choice.”

You shook your head at him gently. Bursting with everything but what you wanted. Happiness. JJ gave you all of that and yet , you weren’t allowed it. It wasn’t fair. Nothing in this life had seemed fair. “I tried. I begged and begged him not to make me do this but he won’t listen to me. He only cares about money.”

“We could runaway.” JJ said suddenly.

The thought was immediate. Everything swirling in his mind as to how to make it happen. It wasn’t ideal but it was a solution. The only solution.

“JJ—”

“I’ve got some money saved up. We could take the boat and leave. Just you and me.”

“You love it here.” You told him softly. “Your friends are. . . your life.”

“I won’t love it anymore without you.” JJ argued. “Even if you did marry him , I’d leave. I couldn’t stand the thought of it. I can’t—” JJ shook his head and swallowed harshly. He brought a hand up behind your neck and brought your face closer to his. His forehead rested against yours as his eyes fluttered closed. “Please just. . . leave. Leave with me.”

You weren’t sure how this would go. There were so many uncertainties. So many people would be hurt. You’d be leaving behind the only life you ever knew for a boy you had met on the beach. But picturing life with Rafe Cameron wasn’t the way you wanted to spend the rest of your days on this island. Just the thought made you feel sick.

So before you could think it , your mouth opened and your heart spoke before your head got the chance to argue.

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

part two?

[cute-sucker]

irregular heartbeat

[31.3.2024]

note: erm, so i wrote this. idk how i feel about it...(if u find the taylor swift reference u will forever have my love) words: 1.8k warnings: drinking, swearing, heavy angst, slightly dark!rafe, toxic relationship

dating rafe cameron in secret was supposed to be fine.

it was supposed to be easy. you never passed his way on the island, and when you did he was his gang.

the kooks.

each one had a rich family and shit ton of daddy issues. kelce, a cold fish, topper, the charming one and rafe…the deadly one. the one that you were supposed to stay away from.

you were independent even out of school. your parents had needed help with two younger siblings. you went you fended for yourself, taking your sister to soccer practice and coming to your brother's plays. you had a one-track mindset. that was staying clear of trouble.

oh boy, but when rafe came in. a smirk on his face, sunglasses glinting in the sun, and a groggy voice that made you want to rethink all of your decisions.

some said trouble followed him, while others disagreed calling him the root of all the problems.

you never expected to fall into his clutches. your family had been dirt poor and you were on a scholarship to kook academy, passing with flying colors. you were ready now to graduate with your hands closing on the degree, and finally run away from figure eight forever.

yet it wasn't school where you met him.

it was when you had been dropping off your sister when he set his eyes on you. you were supposed to start a new life, but somehow you liked the way he offered you a new breath of air.

you liked the danger, and the intrigue surrounding him, and you liked doing something dangerous. you had always been reliable, you had always been the one to hang around your friends telling them it was time for you to go home.

you'd always been the straight a' student, good girl, and now you smiled back at him and that smirk spread on his face you left excited.

it was almost as if he understood you. it was the way he liked your sweet smile, always giving you time. he understood your hardships and shared some of his own - telling you about his difficult relationship with his father, running to get your coffee, and at one point holding you so tightly during the times you were like you were going to fall apart.

then he had asked you out. you felt like you were living the dream, retracing his freckles at night, and feeling the way he smiled at you. he was everything at you. you would never admit it, but even your sister had caught on.

her 10-year-old mind saw you lingering on rafe cameron, and she gave you a sly smile, telling you that you deserved it.

you liked that.

you liked the sweetness and the venerability that he brought out in you. you liked the way his arms could fold you, and the way you felt so safe. you liked the way he smiled at you in the morning after you stayed. this sweetness in the venerable laziness with his arms spread out and you could feel the steady beat of his heart.

dependable.

trustworthy.

lovable.

he was like a nightmare dressed like a daydream.

rafe cameron was a whirl of emotions. an unpredictable hurricane that came quietly and viciously. you hated the clear lies you heard in his voice and the way he drank to death. the bottle was attached to him, and his eyes were harsh, with his words even harsher.

no longer could you see the race that you loved.

you felt abandoned. all of sudden, it felt like everything was falling apart, as you tried to take care of everyone forgetting about yourself.

you'd cry and cry like you had never had before. your knees held up to your chest, and this fear, this constant fear followed you everywhere because you loved him. god, you loved him, desperately to the point of damming everything you had.

and you swore you had lost everything until he'd let you curl into your lap and he'd whisper sweet nothings in your ear. then you'd believe everything was going to be okay.

but here you were again, beer bottle tilted drinking every drop, while you aimlessly swayed to the beat as the party music blared. you felt weightless, died yet so alive at the same time. you were supposed to be placed.

yet you were dwindling to nothing because of rafe cameron.

he had told you were his love, his one and only, and yet he had just ignored you, pretending not to know you.

you wanted to scream.

in all honestly you always felt like crying, and then telling his friends what was going on. you were fucking 17 years old, and you were supposed to be out of this phase. out of this phase where you craved being a teenage dirtbag.

no, now you felt like a dirty secret as if he didn't want people to know that he was dating a filthy pogue on the other side of the island. he was ashamed of you.

these thoughts swirled in your head with no stop, and you felt more your hands shake and eyes blur with tears, as you tipped a bottle to your mouth. the more you thought about the situation, the more beer you drowned.

and all of a sudden you danced, your body in sync with the music, and you were next to the bonfire, too close, so warm. maybe you should take something off, it was way too warm, as you stumbled to get your top off.

suddenly you felt someone helping you.

topper.

"hey, are you okay?" he asked, drawing you away from the fire. you squirmed away from him, as your cup fell to the ground.

"'m fine, why?" you gulped down your drink with enthusiasm, "you know you should tell your friend to fuck off. he's an asshole." you sputtered out, trying to sit down only to lose your footing completely.

topper caught you in time.

"maybe you should stop-" he muttered, gently guiding your cup away from you. you felt like you shouldn't let him take your cup yet your hands wandered aimlessly in his direction.

"i'm a complete loser," you hiccouped, as you sat on the ground. "i'm in love with him. i'm in love with rafe fucking cameron."

topper raised an eyebrow, nodding silently as if he had heard this before.

then you found yourself sniffing sadly, and felt more confused. "why are you even listening to me babble? you don't even know me."

your tight minidress was slipping up your thighs, and you saw him glance before catching himself.

he laughed at your comment, almost as if he was surprised himself. "i don't know. all i know is that you seem familiar," he confessed, cracking a confused smile. you couldn't help but laugh just a little.

he was nice.

"seriously top, seducing a pogue? couldn't find other good fucks?" a dark voice drawled.

you turned to face the half-obscured face in the darkness. it was rafe, hat turned backwards, anger flickering in his eyes, an eerie expression on his face.

"shut up rafe," topper shot back, rolling his eyes. he looked amused almost as if he was enjoying this exchange of words.

you glared at rafe, placing your hands on your thighs. "maybe i should go fuck someone. i feel like it, y'know?"

rafe snapped to look at you.

you got up, sudden bravado in your heart. "you know what? i'd rather fuck anyone here then-"

his eyes.

that was what stopped you in your tracks. it was the fact that there was something so murderous, and you could tell that he was warning. yet you didn't want to stop. you wished he could drown in the ocean, or just leave you.

he let out a mirthless laugh, and then stepped closer to you, "let's talk.''

it wasn't a request, but you stepped closer to him, watching the way his breath hitched, and the way his hand itched to pull down the short dress you had on.

you stepped so close, it looked as if you were going to kiss him. you found yourself feeling cruel.

"stay away from me, rafe.," you whispered, and then walked away from him. but you knew that he wouldn't let you go without a fight, as he relentlessly followed you across the bonfire.

"talk to me," and then before you knew it topper was gone, and the two of you were shoved into a dark corner. you saw other couples making out, but none of them could care less about your presence.

his eyes searched for something in yours. he was so close, his heat rubbed off you and you waited for him to say anything.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" he hissed, "what happened right there," he whispered, and he looked so concerned you wanted to break right there in front of him.

"you. you're what happened. you're breaking me." you breathed out, hot tears streaming down your face, and his grip on your arm got even tighter.

you gasped at the pain, and he quickly let go of your hand. he had hurt you, and he was-

"i-" he murmured, and then tried to draw you closer to his chest, "i love you. you know i would never hurt you."

you shook your head, as you sobbed. yet when he opened his arms you flew into them. he stroked your hair and buried his head in his chest.

"somethings wrong," you mumbled and he gently tilted your head to get a good look at you. you could barely understand the look on his face. he was so unpredictable.

"you've had too much to drink, darling."

then he kissed your forehead so gently, that a tear escaped your face. he was kissing all of your bruises and you would let him do anything to you.

"i missed you, you're gone all the time," you told him, latching onto his arm.

"i'm right here," he assured you, and you shook your head.

"no, no."

he wouldn't get it.

you closed your eyes, his ache in his heart growing. you could hear his heartbeat, and no longer did he sound steady. instead, it was irregular. you wanted to believe he was the same rafe cameron you fell in love with, but sometimes. . .

sometimes you couldn't even recognise him.

[eloves-writes]

💜 with carlos sainz!! could you make it spicy? it's ok if you don't want to as well it's your choice :)

fun fact! i can see you was one of my surprise songs at the eras tour and it is very near and dear to my heart😌😌 is this secret relationship trope overdone? yes. will that stop me? no!

song lyric prompt: “i can see you waiting down the hall from me, i can see you up against a wall with me” i can see you ~ taylor swift💜

warnings: kissing, reader n carlos being cute, slightly suggestive, oblivious charles leclerc

————————————————————

the whole press conference, you kept finding your eyes wandering over to carlos opposite you on the large sofa. he looked so beautiful today in his ferrari shirt with his summer break tan and messy yet perfect hair; this was the first time you’d seen him since the last race in spa, not managing to align your vacation plans but mostly not wanting to rouse suspicion if you were caught a beach together somewhere. the secrecy was fun and adrenaline pumping, it made you feel like you were in high school again sneaking around behind your parent’s backs- of course, the stakes were much higher due to your on track ‘rivalry’ with the spaniard. at least, the battling for positions and pushing each other off track was interpreted by the media as such; in reality, it was playful, teasing foreplay that you both enjoyed so much that the thought of getting caught and letting everybody else in on your little game disappointed you both immensely.

when the floor was opened up for questions from the journalists, hands shot up as usual and a question headed straight for you.

“this is for y/n and carlos,” the woman started, respectful in her tone which you appreciated after the shit men had asked you in the years since you started racing. “we’ve all liked watching your on-track battles so far this year, but we wonder if you two are coming in just as hot to the second half of this season, or has the rivalry cooled off over the summer break?”

she posed a valid question, but truthfully it was one you wondered the answer to yourself. had the heat between you cooled in each other’s absence? and if it had, was there an on-track rivalry without the off-track affair?

after a beat of silence allowing you both to think, carlos spoke.

“i don’t know about y/l/n, here,” he answered, connecting his big brown eyes with yours and making your stomach flip. “but i’m coming in just as hot.”

you knew what he was really saying. you paused for a second before answering yourself:

“me too,” you responded playfully. “carlos is a great driver, but i’m better.”

-

as you walked off the stage back to your team’s garage, a hand grabbed your waist and carlos leant down to level his lips with your ear.

“i’m good, but you’re better, huh?”

you turned to look at him, trouble in your eyes. “that’s what i said, yep.”

he grabbed your hand and swiftly dragged you into the ferrari garage without anyone seeing. pushing you up against the wall of the corridor, he kissed you feverishly and you kissed him back, welcoming the taste of his perfect lips on yours again and the gentle pull of his hands tangled in your hair.

“i missed you, cariño,” he breathed, pulling away from the kiss to take in every inch of your face as you did the same to him. you would never tire of seeing him so close up, admiring each feature like it was carved from marble. but it wasn’t; he was so, so real.

“mhm, you’re coming in just as hot,” you teased, quoting his answer to the reporter earlier.

carlos chuckled and nodded his head. “oh yeah. i’m definitely hot for you.”

his sarcastic tone made you laugh, leaning up to kiss him again. the kiss turned from sweet to rough in an instant, and your arms which had been previously draped around his neck dropped to hem of his shirt so your hands could explore his toned stomach under the red fabric as you continued to kiss him. his own hands fell to your ass, grabbing it in a way that pushed your hips forward into his crotch, earning a groan from the taller man.

footsteps down the hall took you out of your intimate moment, immediately removing your hands from each other and putting some needed distance between your bodies. you snorted when you noticed the semi forming in carlos’ jeans, and he lightly hit you on the arm for laughing.

“not my fault,” he said quietly through gritted teeth.

“you dragged me in here,” you whispered. “so kinda is.”

he hit you on the arm again as the source of the footsteps approached and carlos’ teammate came into view. he looked from you to carlos, suspicious.

“think you’re in the wrong garage, y/l/n,” charles joked, going in to hug you. “you alright? carlos hasn’t been trying anything with you, has he? can’t keep his hands to himself,” he continued, clapping his teammate on the back. carlos silently begged you not to start laughing.

“no,” you replied, using all your self control to sound calm and unbothered. “i thought i’d just come and inform him that i’m going to absolutely smash him this weekend.”

you smiled at carlos, milking the double entendre for all it was worth before leaving them both and quickly heading back to your own garage.

-

“you totally like her, mate,” charles laughed at his teammate once you were out of earshot. and carlos could deny it all he wanted, but he totally did.

[starlightxsvt]

Beautiful Liar | part of the Treacherous Tales Series

pairing ➳ dk x fem!reader

genre ➳ mafia au, dark romance? angst, smut.

wc ➳ 16.8k

synopsis ➳ you have old scores to settle and he's a pretty pawn in your game. but one must remember obsession leads to destruction.

warnings ➳ violence, mentions of mafia, murder, kidnapping & suicide, stalking, breaking and entering, manipulation, gambling, mention of rape, protected sex, teasing, male oral.

playlist ➳ beautiful liar- monsta x, vigilante shit- taylor swift, part goddess part gangster- madalen duke, horns-bryce fox, don't blame me- taylor swift, no body no crime- taylor swift, the hills- the weekend.

"I need him."

Your words dissipate into the cool air inside the car as your gaze remains focused out your window, trained on one certain man.

"What do you need me to do?" Changkyun immediately asks with violence underlying in his tone. You click your tongue in disapproval, not letting your eyes stray from your pretty prey. "You won't be doing anything this time. He is mine."

The man sitting in the driver's seat next to you only grunts in reply.

Through the passenger side window, you keep observing him, as the man smiles and talks to some students before taking his leave, walking inside another building as he disappears from your sight, making you sigh.

"Okay. You actually do need to do something."

"What?"

"Get me his schedule."

-

Theatre and drama were never your thing. Yet, here you sit, in Professor Lee's class as he talks about the history of theatre.

While the lecture itself is boring and definitely not worth the trouble you went through to sneak into his class as you are not a student, the man himself is pleasing to listen to and look at.

There is something boyish and innocent about him and as you watch him give the lecture, his voice so sweet and soothing that it is almost impossible to believe that he is related to the Lee family.

The two-hour lecture is surprisingly quick to pass by as you sit at the very back of the classroom, watching him carefully. With the clock striking 2 pm, the lecture finishes and students clear out of the classroom, leaving you behind who sits immobile in her place.

That manages to capture Professor Lee's attention. He takes off his reading glasses and tilts his head to look at you, blinking as if he's trying to remember you from somewhere.

With an amused smile playing on your lips, you stand up from your seat and strut to the podium slowly.

"Good afternoon, Professor." You greet, holding out a hand. He takes a look at your face and then your hand before softly shaking it. "Good afternoon. I don't think you are a student of mine."

Up close, the man looks dashing. Perfect sharp features; prominent cheekbones and a sharp nose, soft plump lips on his slightly tanned skin. Covered up to the neck with a white turtleneck underneath a black cashmere suit, he looks far from what he truly is.

So innocent, so deceitful.

You grin. "You are absolutely correct, Professor Lee. I am not."

He looks amused as well, raising a brow with the expectation that you are going to explain yourself.

"I am just a fan, you could say."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I came across your presentation at the Royal Opera House this July. I have been a fan ever since."

"Well...I am pleased to hear that. I hope I have managed to inspire you in some way."

"Oh, you have. Plenty." You can't refrain from a grin.

"I am glad then." He pauses for a beat as he takes a look at his watch. "You'll have to excuse me now. I have a meeting soon."

"Of course. I just wanted to say hi. Have a nice day." You take a step back.

The man nods, giving you a small smile as he starts walking out of the classroom, his shoes clicking on the floor. He looks gorgeous even from behind, the afternoon sun streaming from the windows in the hallway casting around him in an angelic glow.

Just as he is about to fully exit the classroom, he stops and turns his head. "I didn't get your name, though. Where are you from?"

You can't help but smile diabolically. "From the wrong side of the tracks, professor."

-

Professor Lee has a pretty house, made up of a rustic brick structure and well furnished black tiles for the roof, a perfect blend of modern and old. The wooden fence around the perimeter of the house is not hard for you to cross as you make your way through his yard, careful not to step anywhere that would leave a trace.

The perfect time to break into his place is now, midday, as he is currently busy teaching a class. Changkyun is keeping an eye on him, camped outside the university, ready to inform you if his position changes as you take your time combing through his house.

The front of his house has a CCTV camera, which is precisely why you broke in through the back. Carefully crossing the yard, you tiptoe along the side of the house and turn right where there is a window. Making sure that you are in a blind spot, you pry the window open after a small struggle and gingerly make your way in like a sneaky cat.

His house is beautiful, exactly fitting his image. The floors are made of dark wood as well as most of the furniture; a dark yet soothing vibe emanating from his abode. The window you used to get in leaves you in a small hallway and after looking around a little, you get a general sense of direction.

Straight from the hallway, there is his bedroom which is where you head first. You are somewhat disappointed when you find it so sterile. The room, composed of a queen sized bed, a dresser and a closet is pristine. Everything is neat, not a hair out of place as if no one lives here. There is no decoration, no trace of personalization like a picture or a painting which you find odd because you expected something that would indicate his ties to his dear family.

Not letting the disappointment get to you, you walk out of the bedroom, heading for the closed door on the left; twisting the knob, you open the door to find his study and a smile spreads on your lips.

It's a fairly large room, the walls on both sides surrounded by large mahogany shelves containing books about art, literature and others. You carefully step in, heading straight for the large desk in the middle.

To your utter disappointment, it doesn't contain any schedule or indication about the life of crime that he comes from. There is not a single sign that would tell anyone that he is the younger brother of the notorious ruler of District 1.

Instead, aside from his computer on the desk, there are only a few books related to theatre on one side and a few lecture sheets on the other. It is so unexpected that you are stunned to silence, standing in the middle of the room, almost starting to think that you came to the wrong house.

Changkyun's sudden voice from the bluetooth disrupts your thoughts. "___, he is leaving early. He just got in his car. I'm following him. You have about 15 minutes to get out of there."

"Fine," you mutter.

There is still enough time. But by the looks of this, you could have all the time in the world and still not find anything that would tell you he's one of the heirs to District 1.

Grunting you lean down and start checking the drawers only to find nothing; no secret meeting location, nothing that you can use to blackmail him or anything that will lead you to the main culprit, his brother.

Sighing, you stand up straight and look around the room. Maybe he is being extra cautious and doesn't keep any evidence here. Maybe he has a secret hideout for his life of crime.

The idea, however, doesn't make sense because you have been stalking him and the only place he frequents is the university.

It's odd.

It almost feels like he doesn't have any connection with District 1.

No, no. That doesn't make any sense.

"___, you have 10 minutes!"

"I know, I know!" You snap, annoyed.

Walking over to the bookshelves you gently drag your fingers over the spine of each book, hoping maybe one of them would be the key to opening a secret room behind the shelves.

Nothing like that happens.

Accepting your defeat, you come out of the house but not before placing a bug underneath the table in his study with the hopes of getting some information by spying on him. Crossing the fence, you take special care to make sure you didn't leave behind any trace of entry before finally exiting the perimeter of the house.

Once safely out of the range of his house, you stand on the opposite side of the road and watch Professor Lee pull up a few minutes later. Changkyun's car follows him half a minute later as he drives straight to where you are standing, before coming to a stop in front of you.

You tug open the door and get in on the passenger side.

"Why the long face? Find nothing?"

"Shut up."

-

A change of plans is the only way.

Your second plan is to court him which isn't really a problem given the man is as pretty as a doll and toying with him would be absolute fun. With the decision set, you begin phase two of your operation, stalking him.

Well, you were stalking him before too but now, you start to follow every single footsteps of him, quite literally.

You follow him everywhere, discreetly, of course, getting to know his schedule as precisely as possible before striking.

His routine is rather bland, he wakes up, goes to work, then goes to the gym and then comes back home. It is something you find odd, once again. No matter from which angle you consider, the equation does not add up. Still, you try to make the best of whatever little ammunition you have at hand and pretend to bump into him randomly.

Like, one sunny afternoon you pretend to wait for someone in the parking lot of his university right when he is to leave for the day. Surprisingly, he's the first one to approach you, as he gently grabs your attention. "Hey. We uh, met the other day."

"Oh, hello, Professor Lee. Glad you remembered. One of your biggest fans."

"Have you enrolled here?"

"Ah, I wish. I'm here to...meet a friend's daughter."

"I see. What's her department?"

You blink, not expecting that question but recover quickly. "You ask too many questions professor. Let me ask you one instead. Can I have your number?"

You see the tips of his ears go red.

So adorable.

He blinks, taken aback as he searches for the right words. "Well, uh, why?"

"Why? You're hot and intelligent. I want to go out with you."

"Well, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why?"

"Just because." He replies, almost unsure, looking at you as if you are a bizarre creature.

You take a step towards him, an amused smile on your face from his reaction. Leaning close to him, you slowly fix the lapels of his jacket. Perplexed, he looks at the motion of your hands before moving his gaze to your face.

"Please, professor? One date is all I ask." You give him puppy eyes.

There is a sharp inhale as his pupils widen just a little bit while you gaze into his eyes, unblinking. The proximity is intense, you can smell his perfume, feel his breath on your skin and from the way he keeps looking at you, there is an urge to kiss him building within you.

Just when you are sure you can sneak in a kiss, he breaks the moment by taking a step back, out of your reach. Clearing his throat, he says. "I can't. I have a girlfriend."

Liar.

Not waiting for your reply, he opens the door to his car and gets in. As his engine fires up with a hum, you walk near the vehicle and lean in to look at him through the half open window. "Don't lie professor. You don't have a girlfriend."

He looks at you silently for a moment, his hands resting on the steering wheel. "This is why I won't go out with you."

You are confused.

"You seem to know too much about me and I don't like that."

With that, he pulls out of the parking lot, leaving behind a trail of smoke and your baffled self.

It's fine.

You know you are on the right track. He is definitely attracted to you so it is not over yet. In fact, it is only the beginning.

This is going to be so much fun.

-

For the next week, you make it your mission to pop up in front of Seokmin while he is out and about. You first pretend to run into him at his favourite coffee shop, acting delighted when he notices you. He seems wary upon seeing you and since it was only the first day of your mission, you let him off easy, saying that this is fate telling that you two are meant to be.

The next time you pretend to run into him again at the car park of the university, once again announcing that you are waiting for your friend's daughter. He keeps the conversation short, simply by nodding and getting into his car rather hurriedly. You, however, don't forget to throw him a compliment, looking as innocent and genuine as possible; like an innocent young girl who has been rejected by her desired man and now longs for him from afar.

That seems to work a bit.

The lesser you speak and the more innocent your attitude becomes, the longer your encounters last. Seokmin would start initiating the conversation and then ask formal questions as if to keep the conversation going or maybe, to test you and see what your true intentions are.

Either way, you don't fall for that.

Instead, you act detached, like a damsel who failed to capture the eye of the man she loves.

Finally, one morning, when you are walking out of the coffee shop, he stops you on your way by extending his hand to touch your elbow softly. You have to hide your smile before turning around.

"You know, I never got to see the girl." He says.

"Which girl?"

"Your friend's daughter. The one you come to the university for."

Ah.

"Oh, you didn't?" You blink innocently. He looks at you for a beat, before giving you a knowing smile. "You know, I think we both know that that's a lie."

You avert your gaze, acting like you did not hear him.

"As much as you seem to be enjoying this, I need you to stop following me around." He says, voice soft but firm and you know it's a command.

It's a shame you don't take commands well.

Tilting your neck to a side, you pop a muscle before giving out a loud exhale, composing yourself. "Have a nice day, Mr Professor."

You walk away.

-

You were getting tired of playing around. The man may be attracted to you but you are coming to a realization that it will not be enough for him to give him. He is cautious and given who he really is, he will never let a woman like you get close to him, no matter how much he may like you.

"I told you, we should have just kidnapped him. His brother would show up immediately." Changkyun complains out loud. The two of you have been sitting in your study for the past hour, trying to come up with a plan.

"You know I don't work like that. It's too easy. And too risky."

You have a bad habit. You always end up getting emotionally involved in every case you encounter. This one should not be an exception. In fact, this is the best place to get emotional because his brother hurt you by hurting your family. It is only fair you do the same to him now. And along the way, you get to tease a pretty man like Professor Lee. It is a win-win situation for you, almost.

In your world, betrayal is the sweetest revenge. If you can betray Professor Lee after earning his trust, that will be the sweetest revenge.

"I don't give up so easily, you know," you whisper, planning your next move.

-

"No teacher needs that much muscles, professor!" Your voice echoes through the empty gym at night.

Dokyeom whips his head around, dropping the dumbbell that was in his hand, eyes wide at your sudden voice. "You! How did you get in here!" You don't appreciate his accusatory tone.

"I come to this gym as well." You shrug, strolling towards him with your hands behind your back before plopping down next to him on a bench. He gives you an exasperated look. "Really?"

"Mhmm." You smile.

"Liar. What do you want? I told you to stay away from me."

You shrug. " Mhmm, can't do that professor. I miss you."

His lips thin, a sign that he is clearly not amused by your antics but it's a shame. You find all of this way too amusing.

You find him amusing.

"I know you are after something else. I am not stupid, ___." He turns to face you properly, his eyes carefully watching you.

A soft smirk plays on your lips. Of course, he is not stupid. Heir to the Lee family, he is the farthest thing from stupid.

"Did you have someone look into me, professor?" You ask nonchalantly.

"Look into you? What is that supposed to mean?" He asks, leaning closer to you.

You're treading in dangerous territory. You cannot give yourself in so quickly.

"I mean a smart, famous man like you has a lovesick stalker. I'm sure you had a detective or someone take a look into me, no?"

More like an intelligence member of the mafia. Maybe even his dear brother.

"So you are admitting that you are a stalker?"

"Oh, not just any, though. A lovesick stalker." You blink innocently at him.

He remains silent making you wonder if he is buying your words.

"Since you are asking me what I want, I assume you asked around and couldn't find anything, then?" You tilt your head, tone playful as you continue the conversation. You are not going to leave today until you are successful.

After a moment, he admits. "Yes. You run on the wrong side of the tracks, that is all I could find."

You chuckle. "There is nothing else to find, professor. I'm just a bad girl infatuated with you and your words and your passion for art."

"You? I am not buying that."

"Me? What is that supposed to mean?" You feel a little offended. "Can a girl not be a gangster and love theatre? Not every one of us gets to chase our dreams, you know."

You see his eyes soften as he remains silent, pondering your words. You watch him, carefully leaning closer to him before dragging a manicured finger over his bicep flirtily.

"What do you want?" His voice comes out breathy this time, those deep pools of chocolate in his eyes boring into you and oh god, do you love your name on his lips.

It would be even better to hear him say that in bed.

"A date with you, professor." You whisper, inching your face closer to him, your lips a mere few inches away from his and you don't miss the way his gaze drops to them before coming back up to your eyes.

"And if I say no?" He swallows. You pout, snaking a hand over his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath your palm, pleased that he lets you touch him. "Why would you say no, professor? I am really good in bed, you know."

He watches you quietly once again and you hate how you cannot tell what is going on inside his head. Is he falling for your words or is he simply piecing things together and trying to uncover you? There is a slight flush on his cheeks but you don't know if it's because of you or his workout.

His hand comes to grab your wrist, breaking your train of thought as he takes your hand off his chest and places it on your lap.

"Tell me something you have never told anyone before."

"What?" You are perplexed.

"Tell me something, anything, a secret, a wish, that you have never told anyone before. Then, I will go on a date with you." He replies.

Wait, what?

You blink, absolutely baffled at his words as he sits in silence, looking at you expectantly. His gaze is sombre and sincere, like he really wants to know you and for the first time in forever, your heart skips a beat, making you feel out of place and vulnerable. Quickly, you break eye contact with him and stare at your boots as you think of a reply.

"Don't think of making up a lie. I can tell, you know." He adds.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you internally roll your eyes at him. "I...I have this urge to leave everything behind and just go to an island. Or a place near the sea and spend the rest of my life there, where nobody knows me, where my past doesn't haunt me."

A long silence follows after your words and you cannot make yourself look at him, afraid of what you will find in his eyes, afraid of how they would make you feel and at the same time hating that these thoughts are bothering you.

"I am free this weekend." He murmurs standing up. You look up, surprised, excited. He puts on his hoodie, acting like he did not just agree to a date with you. As he starts walking out of the gym, completely ignoring your presence, you yell. "I'll text you!"

He turns around to look at you as if to ask how you have his number but simply gives you an exasperated look which you reply with a cheeky smile.

"I'm only free after noon." He declares, continuing on his path.

"No problem, professor." You grin.

-

You agree on an evening library date which is not really an ideal date for you but because of the facade you are holding up, you agree. The library is situated near his campus, an old architectural piece, with dimmed yellow lights and gold details and large windows, radiating a little bit of a gothic energy. He chose the library because of your (fake)interest in theatre, saying that the library would be the best place to discuss these things and you agreed because other than that, it is also not crowded and you can have his full attention.

Dokyeom hand picks a few books on the topic with pure enthusiasm as you follow him around, nodding to whatever he is saying. For the most part, you observe him, watching him with rapt attention, the details of his face, the change of his expressions as he talks, the movement of his hands—

And you have to admit, he has very pretty hands; long and bony, perfect to suck on.

Shaking your head at the ridiculous thought, you follow him to a private study room.

He pulls a chair and helps you sit down, making you smile at his manners. Once he is sat, he turns to you and asks. "Okay, then. What would you like to talk about today? Let's start with plays. What is your favourite play?"

"I don't know, what is yours?" You ask, blinking innocently at him as you rest your chin on your palm. He frowns. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"My favourite play is whatever your favourite play is." You reply sweetly, making him throw an exasperated look at you.

"Is this how you are going to be?"

"Deeply infatuated with you? Yes, professor."

Shaking his head, he opens a book, murmuring something under his breath but you see the soft hint of a smile playing on his lips, making you smile as well.

This should be easy.

Your date goes smoothly, with him discussing his favourite plays, playwrights and whatnot and you nodding along and watching him, throwing in some pointless questions here and there to appear interested. All the while in the back of your mind, you keep planning your next move. Seokmin isn't a stupid man and you know deep down, he sees through your pretence but seeing how he is still entertaining you means that you have captured his interest. And you have to use this to your benefit.

Fate seems to be on your side as on the way back home, Dokyeom suddenly asks if you are free for dinner.

You have to work very hard to mask the huge grin of satisfaction on your face when you say yes. Your response pleases him, visible from his reaction as he excitedly turns the car around and selects a restaurant.

Dokyeom goes all out for dinner, as you are guided to a private dining room upon entering the restaurant. You have to say that his effort impresses you. And of course, it solidifies your belief that he is falling for you. Smiling, you strut behind him.

He pulls out your chair for you, helping you sit down before ordering some appetizers and wine for you to get started.

"I'm a bit surprised you agreed to come." He speaks after a small pause.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I- I just had a thought that you were not serious about me. It almost felt like you lost a bet. I had the impression that you were just playing with me and wasting my time the last few weeks but I'm surprised you pulled through."

You only give him a smile in reply.

"You know, I believe you are one of two things. A weirdo who wants to bed a professor just for fun or, someone with a hidden intention, playing the long game."

"Aren't you smart, professor?" You grin condescendingly, resting your cheek on your palm.

"I know you are bad news, yet..." He pauses for a beat, sighing at himself. "Yet for the past week, I could not stop thinking about you. I'm in deep trouble, no?"

"You are," You smile. "In the sweetest trouble, I promise you."

He scoffs, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "Let's order the main course, shall we?"

The dinner begins with casual small talk as he tells you about his work and you listen, asking casual questions here and there. When you are taking your second serving of the alfredo pasta, he asks. "Tell me about yourself. Why do you do what you do?"

"Come again?" Your movements halt as you look at him.

"Your... profession." He seems to not find his words. "Killing people, threatening them, weapon business, fraud... whatever you do."

"Hm, I do a little bit of all of that but," you set your utensils down, looking up. "Interesting question, professor."

"Is it like a family business?"

Your eyes fly to his, looking for a sign in them of whether he knows your background or not. For a moment you tense up and hold your breath but his face remains the same, looking at you curiously as he sips his wine.

"No, not really." You reply before finishing your glass of wine. "Parents died early. They knew a few people who were in this business and I got involved."

"What business is it exactly?"

"Aren't you curious, professor?"

He shrugs, looking at you in silence, waiting for you to continue. You sigh, dropping your cutlery down and leaning back into the chair.

"My father was in the weapons business. After he passed away things were messy for a bit and I realized dealing with weapons was not my strong forte. Now I'm in the loaning business and I also do contract killing."

Dokyeom's eyes widen significantly and you can't help but laugh at his reaction. He is acting like he hasn't heard something like this before, living in the world that he lives in.

He looks around before lowering his voice and asking. "So you are like a thug that lends people money with high interest?"

"Yep."

"And you beat them up if they fail to return the money on time?''

"Precisely," you grin.

"And what was that about contract killing? What are you? A hitman?"

"You can say that. But I have clients of various ranges. I kill for politicians, for local gangs and even for civilians."

"For civilians?" He hisses.

"Yes, professor." You take a sip of your wine, swirling the bitter liquid around in your mouth. "Three months ago, the news of a young girl getting raped by a senator's son broke out. I'm sure you have heard of that. The girl was only seventeen and the guy came to her birthday party without any invitation, caused a ruckus and raped her that night because she refused to drink with him. The mother of that girl ran around tirelessly for help while she recovered at the hospital. Everyone she went to, told her to drop the charges for her own good. For one, it would take months, even years to complete the investigation and during that time they'd only get harassed, and two, they could never win the case."

"One day, the mother came to see me. I don't know how she found me and I didn't ask. She offered me her entire life savings and begged me for justice for her daughter. I didn't accept her money but I promised her I would avenge her daughter."

"Then...the death of that senator's son, you were behind it?" Seokmin whispers.

"Yes. I castrated him and then slit that bastard's throat."

"And the incident of the senator that came on the news, were you behind that as well?"

"Yes. He was equally at fault. He let his son go astray and then covered up his crimes. He did not deserve to speak another word so I cut his tongue. Fun, no?'

He doesn't reply to you but falls into a deep state of thought as you continue your dinner.

"Did I scare you, professor?" You ask, seeing him so silent.

He blinks a few times, coming out of his reverie. "No."

"Hm, doesn't sound like that."

Once more, you are met with silence as he watches you from the opposite side of the table, the look in his eyes serious, almost as if he is scrutinizing you. You start to grow uncomfortable under his stare, slightly worried that he might piece two and two together and see through you.

Surprising you, he says, "Looks like I misjudged you, ___. I shouldn't have. I apologize."

"What?"

"Not all actions can be boxed into black and white. What you did may be illegal but it was necessary and right. It won't undo everything that the girl went through, but it still makes the whole thing a bit fair."

For probably the first time in your life, you find yourself speechless. You open your mouth to reply but you realize that you are incapable of forming a reply to what he said. So, you just sit in silence, mirroring him.

"I don't know your past and I don't know what your struggles are but you are a good person, ___.''

Your throat has dried up by now as a weird sensation starts settling in your heart. It is uncomfortable and your appetite is ruined.

The man can probably sense your discomfort because he lets out a soft chuckle and leans back into his seat. "I just thought you should know that. I was not trying to woo you or anything."

You swallow a lump in your throat and force a smile. "Let's order dessert, shall we?''

Soon after that, you finish dinner and Dokyeom offers to give you a ride home and you accept it but only after a little internal debate.

Your own attitude baffles you. Why are you hesitating to let him drop you home? Is it because you have started feeling weird things under his company and now you want to avoid them?

No, that's outrageous. You are just tired from a long day of playing pretend.

The drive to your house is silent as you actively avoid having any conversation with him by facing the window and closing your eyes, your arms crossed as you pretend to go to sleep.

A good amount of driving later, you reach your house and tap in the code number for the main gate to open.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?'' You ask upon noticing his reaction; wide eye and mouth slightly open as he drives into your compound, coming to a stop in front of the steps that lead to your main entrance.

The house resembles a haunted mansion in many ways. It is at least a hundred years old, huge but empty, creepers growing around the black tiles, surrounded by dead trees and an abandoned garden. This is where you used to live with your family a long time ago and after your father's death, you left, letting that house collect dust. It is only recently that you started living here after you formed your plan to take the Lee family down.

"She is." He agrees with a nod before undoing his seatbelt. Before you can do that and open your door, he rounds the car and holds the door open for you.

The chilly night air hits your skin as you step out of the car. Dokyeom's gaze travels past you, marvelling at your home.

"Would you like to come in?" You surprise yourself by asking. He immediately nods with a sheepish grin. "I would love to see the interior."

"Well, it is a mess and full of dust but come along," You lead the way as he follows you closely. Holding the door open, you let him step in.

The door opens to a large space in front of a staircase leading upstairs. This area used to be for sitting, and now it is barren of anything. There is a large floor to ceiling window by the staircase, pouring the moonlight inside the space which is dimly lit by an antique chandelier.

"I see you didn't renovate." Dokyeon comments as he walks around, eyes scanning the space in wonder.

"Moved in recently."

"Hm, I like the style. If you end up renovating, I'd say don't change it too much." He advises. Humming, you start climbing the stairs. "My bedroom and the dining are upstairs. Wanna take a look?''

"Sure," he enthusiastically trails behind you as you come upstairs and show him the dining first and then the second bedroom before leading him to your bedroom.

"And here is my room," you hold open the door for him as he walks past you, the same look of wonder constant on his face.

"Wow," he walks straight to the open balcony, the night breeze flowing in strong, making the curtains dance. You slowly follow him, "I know right."

"I almost want to live here. Do you want to trade places with me?'' There's a boyish charm in his eyes and a genuine hint of glee in his voice as he looks at you with a smile.

"No thanks." You cannot help a small smile yourself.

A silence settles, a comfortable one in fact as you watch the view by his side in the cool night air.

"I had a good time today," he confesses, voice soft. You try hard not to acknowledge the funny feeling that spreads inside you upon hearing his words. Softly, you say. "Me too."

Your gaze moves to him and you find him looking at you, the look in his eyes is something you are unfamiliar with. Something that threatens to make your heart skip a beat, and make you forget what you are set out to do.

While you are lost in your thoughts, Dokyeom seems to have moved closer to you. His gaze has deepened and his face is suddenly mere inches away from you, taking you by surprise.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispers.

Fuck it. Part of your mission is to get him to bed, no? You will have to do it sooner or later.

You press your lips to his and fireworks go inside your head. It feels right, his lips moving against yours as you grab his jacket to pull him closer. By the time you two separate, you are breathless, your mind hazy. Dokyeom keeps looking at you like you are the most magnificent thing on this planet, his hand softly caressing your cheeks as your fingertips dance on his neck.

"Should I stay the night?"

There is a cheer of satisfaction within you. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement which immediately brings his hands to your shoulders.

His lips are the epitome of temptation, your hooded gaze trained on it, stuck in a trance of pure desire. His fingers brush over your back in tantalising touches as he drops your coat from your shoulders, his eyes never straying from yours. Your hands move in a rhythm as you unbutton his blazer and reach for the hem of his turtleneck, helping him to get rid of it with a tug while simultaneously moving back inside your room and towards your bed, discarding the clothes messily on the floor.

His body is like an ancient Greek sculpture, lean and toned and you don't hide the hunger in your gaze. In silence, you push him towards the bed as he drops down to the mattress while you peel off your top along with your bra and then reach for the pants. Once you are left only in your panties, you strut towards him, a small smile on your lips because of the way he keeps looking at you, full of desire and burning passion.

Your hands move seductively as you take off his pants along with his boxers, making sure your nails scrape his thigh. With the fabrics gone, you see his cock for the first time, and my god is he blessed.

"What do you think? Will it please you?" He asks, making you smirk.

"Lie back professor," you order, standing up as he moves back into the bed, half lying against the headboard. You climb on the bed on all fours, positioning yourself on top of him. Leaning down, your lips tease him as your noses brush together softly. You whisper. "Let me give you a time you will never forget."

Something flashes in his eyes for a brief moment which you don't get to observe because his lips crash into yours, ensuing a fierce kiss. You moan into the kiss as his hands come to cup your neck and jaw, his lips pressed against yours relentlessly.

When you realise he is about to press you down into the bed, you break the kiss and inhale deeply. "Mhmm, no, professor. Let me take care of you first." You throw a wink at him and move down, your lips softly dragging against his skin, down his abdomen before reaching his half hard cock.

You take him in your hands, rubbing the base of his dick at a slow pace and watch his face raptly for reactions. As he grows hard against your hand, you lean down and take him into your mouth with one big swallow that makes Dokyem grunt out loud.

"Fuck!"

You smile as you continue your ministrations, moving your mouth up and down against his length while his body grows tense beneath you. Your tongue laps around his entire length, tasting him, teasing him as his breaths become shorter and shorter.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come soon."

His words work as a motivation for you as you increase your pace, swiping your tongue over his leaking tip before he finally explodes inside your mouth with a throaty groan.

You swallow every drop of him, a few trailing down the corner of your lips and you make a show of licking it with unwavering eye contact. Dokyeom lies flat on his back, panting harshly, hooded eyes watching you in an intense stare.

"Good, professor?" You grin, licking your index finger.

Exhaling loudly, he tugs you by your arm. "Come here!" Pinning you underneath his body, he kisses you, his tongue prodding into your mouth, tasting himself. You don't hold yourself back either, kissing him with equal passion until you forget where you end and he begins.

His lips meet your neck, kissing and sucking softly before trailing down to play with your sensitive nipples. As your whines grow in pitch and you grow restless, trying to break free from his grip and take over, he sits over your thighs, spreading his legs on both sides and resting on his knees.

"Do you have a condom?" He asks.

"Multiple," you reply, reaching for the bedside drawer.

As he puts the rubber on, you take the moment to appreciate his figure, his beautiful face, his bed-messy hair, his toned chest and abdomen and of course, his monster of a cock.

"You are one fine man, professor." You find yourself saying. You hate how you genuinely mean it.

"You are not too bad yourself." He flashes a grin before aligning himself with your pussy. As you take a deep inhale, he pushes in, making your body rise as you grip the sheets tightly in reply to the intrusion.

"Fuck, you're so tight."

Your response is to squeeze him tighter as you wrap your legs around his ass, pushing his body closer to yours. Delirious with pleasure, you start chasing his hips right away in a desperate rhythm of your own.

"Harder," you tempt, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him close. His breath fans your face, the slight perspiration on his temples clearly visible in this distance. In the yellowish hue of the room, his skin glows, giving him the appearance of a god, his messy hair tying everything together.

Dokyeom takes you up for the challenge as he increases his pace, making your head fall back as you let out a deep moan from the pits of your belly. He hits the perfect spot every time, driving you wild, bringing you deliciously close to the edge.

"Fuck, I need to come," you pant, hands reaching between your legs to touch your clit. Dokyeom, however, stops you by grabbing your both wrists and pinning them on top of your head, a cocky smirk on your face as he leans into your ear and whispers. "Say please first."

"Never," you immediately reply.

"Then you don't get to come."

"You asshole!" You hiss, trying to writhe free from his grasp but every time you move, his dick goes deeper inside you, amplifying the pleasure that makes you shudder.

"Come on sweetheart. You know you want to come."

"Ugh, no," you grunt, squeezing your eyes shut in a futile attempt to tone done your need for release."

"It's just one tiny word," the devil keeps whispering in your ear, continuing his ruthless thrusts as you teeter on the verge of begging.

"Fuck! Okay, okay!" You yell. "Please!"

"Hm, that didn't sound nice." The bastard complains, making you furious.

"I swear to god—" He interrupts you with a fierce kiss, pushing his tongue so deep inside your mouth that you forget to breathe. Letting go of your hands, his fingers move down, trailing along your skin before reaching between your legs and flicking your clit. That action is enough as you come, fireworks going off inside your body as you twist to a side, your toes curling in pleasure. Dokyeom's body shudders on top of yours as he comes, continuing to kiss your mouth, your chin and your jaw.

Soon, a silence settles in the air as his body rests on top of yours. You don't find it in you to push him off so you let him be, comfortable in his warmth and embrace as you close your eyes, soon to be overtaken by sleep.

-

Days bleed into weeks that turn into a month as you start dating Seokmin. He grows fonder of you each passing day, the look in his eyes and his actions mirroring what he holds for you in his heart. He starts accepting your obsessive tendencies along with your profession, which pleases you immensely. You have your enemy where you want and things seem to be going your way.

Except one thing.

After you started dating Dokyeom, you have stayed over at his place only a few times. Of course, you made use of those times, snooping through his house in hopes of finding something that would lead you to his brother or at the very least, tell you of his ties to the mafia family of District 1. You never found a single thing. When you asked him about his family, he replied that he is an only child whose parents passed away because of a car crash.

A lie, of course.

Your plan is in motion but at the same time, you feel stuck. You have Dokyeom in the palm of your hand, you just need to get to his brother for everything to come together. You had dramatic plans for a reunion but at this stage, that looks quite impossible.

Maybe you should have just kidnapped him.

-

One weekend he invites you to his house for dinner as a celebration of him securing a contract with one of the biggest publishers in the country for his next book.

You put on your nicest dress and your fanciest heels for the occasion, your lips painted red as you strut to his front door with a bouquet of flowers.

Dokyeom opens the door looking a little more gorgeous than other days; his black hair brushed back sleekly, and wearing a cream coloured Ralph Lauren sweater with black pants. Tying the look together is his steel framed glasses which he looks fantastic with and which you adore seeing him wearing.

Whenever he wears those glasses you two end up having the most mind blowing sex.

Dokyeom remains rooted in his spot as he watches you, his eyes moving over your full frame with a look of appreciation and desire. You flash a grin, "Good evening, professor."

He blinks before smiling, "Good evening, ___. You look absolutely stunning."

"Thought I should dress up to celebrate you." You shrug. "May I come in?" You smile teasingly and he lets you in with a flustered laugh.

"Dinner is cooking in the oven. I will set the table up," he supplies as he helps you to take off your coat once you are inside. "Would you like some wine?''

"Sure," You follow him to the kitchen which has a soft aroma of the chicken roast, making your stomach rumble slightly. One of the many delights of dating Dokyeom has been his exceptional culinary skills. You watch as he pours wine into two glasses before offering you one, "The chicken will be done in ten minutes. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," you receive the glass from him and stroll around the house, looking at his decoration, in the back of your mind thinking if any one of these plain items hides the key to his other identity. A phone call echos in the kitchen and you realize Dokyeom is getting a call. He accepts it with an apology directed at you before going to the porch to speak.

In the meantime, you sneak into his study. It is not even sneaking in, to be honest, because he has given you full access to every inch of his house and in fact, encouraged you to visit his study and take a look at his little library. You found it odd at first because his transparency shows that he has nothing to hide and as days pass by and you come up with no leads, a sinking feeling has started appearing in your belly. Not to mention that the bug you put underneath his desk has picked up nothing of importance, no conversation or phone call about District 1 or his mafia family.

Maybe you have made a huge mistake. Maybe he is some random innocent guy who just looks like the youngest son of Lee family and has fallen to your prey.

Still, you step inside his study with the hope of finding something new. Like every other time, your fingers comb through the shelves of his library before moving towards his desk, shuffling through the papers carefully to not disturb the arrangement. You also peek beneath the desk to make sure the recorder is still there and active before going through his drawers. It has become a routine check at this point, your fingers moving through his stuff in experienced movements as you hold your breath in anticipation of finding a lead.

It goes futile, of course.

With a defeated sigh you stand up to find Dokyeom standing at the entrance of his study with a completely foreign look on his face.

Shit.

A gasp of surprise and terror leaves your mouth as your eyes meet his and for several moments, a gut-wrenching feeling wreaks havoc within you. You hate how you feel, guilty like a criminal or even worse, a person breaking the trust they were given and getting caught red handed by the person who trusted them the most.

"What are you doing?'' His tone is flat and cold, something you are hearing for the first time. It takes a second for your brain to start functioning properly. "Just looking around, professor. You know I get snoopy sometimes." You tilt your head to the side, giving him a coy smile.

Dokyeom gives no reaction. He takes a few, slow steps towards you, his footsteps matching the beat of your heart as he comes to a stand in front of the table.

Then, his hand reaches below, searching for something beneath the table before coming back up with the bug in his hand.

Ah, fuck.

"What is this?" He asks.

"A bug? Who would do that to you, professor?" You ask innocently.

He keeps staring at you, the look of disappointment growing permanent on his face as you realize you are caught for good.

Fuck it, you had to reveal yourself one way or the other anyway.

With a loud exhale, you ask, "When did you find out?"

"Last week," he replies, tone clipped. "I was baffled when I found it. Nobody visited my place in the last few weeks except you. Stupidly, I told myself it cannot be you so someone must have broken in. I looked through the CCTV footage but I found nothing there was well." He blows out a long breath, shaking his head dejectedly, "I still prayed it wouldn't be you but the reality says otherwise, ___."

Hmm, it does.

"It was me," you announce, plopping down on his chair behind the desk while he watches you unamusedly. "And you are right. Someone did break in. That was me as well." You flash him an evil grin.

Whatever colour that was left on his face drains out as he keeps staring at you, unblinking, for a long period. You return his stare with one of your own, except you are curious to see his next reaction. There is also a feeling of dread somewhere within you but you decide to ignore it.

Dokyeom's palms come to rest on the table as he hangs his head low, remaining motionless. Finally, when he looks up, the look in his eyes has completely changed and his jaw is tight, giving you the first glimpse into the mafia heir that he really is.

You watch as he reaches for the scissors in the stationary holder sitting on his desk, and rounds the table before coming to stand right next to you, holding the tip of the scissors right against your neck as he leans down and hisses. "Should I slit your throat right here or should I hear you out?"

You must admit that you find this look on him very attractive.

You cannot help the grin, "Finally, you are acting like the youngest heir of District 1, professor. I like it."

His eyes widen slightly as the scissors move just a bit away from your skin. "What do you want?"

"To tell you that, I have to tell you a long story." Your smile drips with venom as you stand up and walk over to the sitting area. "Sit down. It's a long story." You say, motioning towards the sofa in front of you. He isn't enthusiastic but he follows your direction, sitting down in front of you, the scissors still in his hand.

You lean back into the cushions throwing one leg over the other as you look him in the eye.

"Once upon a time, six years ago actually, there was a man who used to deal weapons. His general clients were not high profile but one day he got orders from the mafia family of District 1. They had some issues with their regular supplier so they chose that man for a quick supply."

"The man had two daughters. One who was 18 at that time and another who was 16. Their mother passed away a couple of years ago and their father was always busy with either work or gambling so the sisters only had each other. The older sister took very good care of the younger one, making sure she was happy and protected all the time."

"Then one night, the mafia barged through the door, surrounding their house with armed men. The eldest and the youngest son of the Lee family also came. They dragged the father and the older daughter outside on the porch where they killed him with a clean shot in the head. Then they grabbed the older daughter and dragged her into their car, making her disappear forever."

"Meanwhile, the younger daughter watched all this from far away as the father's right hand man told her to remain hidden to save herself. After some digging around, it was found out that District 1 went to war with the Russians and they lost that war while also losing the head of the family, the father of the two brothers, Lee Jihoon and..." you pause before looking him dead in the eye and whispering, "Lee Seokmin."

Thick silence stretches in the air.

Dokyeom keeps looking at you, his fingers intertwined under his chin. "So, all this was a grand plan of yours to what, fool me? Betray me after making a joke out of me?" He asks. making you chuckle.

"You were only the beginning of my plan. I wanted to mess with you, of course, but I thought I would find out about your brother's whereabouts through dating you. I initially had a fun plan that I would show up uninvited in one of his business deals and ruin it, damage his reputation for good. However, that plan failed because I found no information about him or your family from you. You really hide that part of you well, no Professor?"

He remains silent.

"Now that my initial plan has failed, I think I will have to kidnap you, hm? Ask your brother for ransom. He would have no choice but to show up then."

Your words make Dokyeom scoff as he shakes his head, the corners of his lips turned up as if you have said the funniest thing ever. You don't like his reaction.

"You want to see my brother? I will arrange that."

"What?" You must have heard wrong. "What game are you playing now?"

"I'm not playing any game."

"Then why?" You narrow your eyes on him, your hand reaching to your back pocket to pull out the switchblade if necessary.

He looks at you for a long moment before letting out a breath. "I am impressed, that's all. I have to acknowledge your talent, no? Also, you deserve to know the truth." He looks you in the eye. "The real truth. Not some bullshit your father's right hand man made up."

"Don't you fucking tell me what is the truth and what is the lie, you murderer!" You seethe, clenching your fists.

You should just gut him right here.

Once again, he just smiles. "I will text you when he is available for the meeting. However, it will be one on one. If you bring someone else, he will not show up."

"I could still kidnap you."

"You are welcome to try but I guarantee you, that plan is going to fail. You are a smart woman. I'm giving you a good option. Just take it." He stands up.

"Well if you think that I alone am not a threat to your brother then you are mistaken. I can make his blood spill if I want to," You stand up and take a menacing step towards him. "If you find your dear brother dead after the meeting, don't blame me, hm?''

You don't wait for a reply as you turn on your heel and march out of the room. On your way out you find the dinner served on the table, the chicken cut nicely into pieces along with vegetables. Picking up a fork, you stab a few pieces of chicken, shove them into your mouth and then take a sip of the wine.

As always, his food tastes great.

With your coat slung over your shoulder, you pull open the door and yell behind you, "Thanks for the dinner, professor!"

You slam the door loudly behind you.

-

Lee Jihoon agrees to have a meeting with you one day later. Initially, you wanted Changkyun to drive you there but Dokyeom sent a text saying that he would pick you up because outside vehicles are not allowed entry into Jihoon's compound. Reluctantly, you agreed and after an absolute silent drive later, you reach the mansion of the mafia family of District 1.

The compound is stunning and heavily guarded, with checkposts and watch towers set at certain distances as well as multiple security screenings that you have to pass through. Once Dokyeom passes the final gate, the gorgeous mansion comes into view. Just upon entry, there is a large compound surrounding a giant water fountain in the middle of neatly trimmed rows of trees. Dokyeom stops the car at a small parking space near the front yard where the meeting will take place.

As the car comes to a stop you notice a small table and garden chairs set up underneath a large umbrella that is surrounded by multiple guards— the place of your meeting. With a deep breath, you step out of the car, along with Dokyeom who comes out of the driver's side door. Surprising you, he leans against the car with his arms crossed and starts looking around.

"You are not coming?''

"No."

You are perplexed but don't ask any further questions, busy with the task ahead of you. Tilting your head side to side, you pop your neck before marching towards the garden. Spotting you, one of the guards speaks into his comm. Throwing a mock smile at him, you drag a chair out and sit down, waiting for him to arrive. Out of curiosity, you turn your head behind to see Dokyeom in the same spot, staring off into the distance.

Weird.

A maid comes to serve two cups of tea before hurrying away and soon after, the man arrives.

Dressed in full black, Lee Jihoon steps out of the mansion and walks towards you, closely followed by two bodyguards, his body language is relaxed as he pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down. Taking off his shades, he looks at you, his eye contact calm yet unwavering along with something very powerful and dark brimming underneath as you come face to face with the man behind all your misery.

"Good morning, ___. My brother informed me about our interesting past." He speaks, his tone light, his facial expression laced with amusement as if he is catching up with an old friend.

"Then you know why I am here." You cut to the chase, trying to keep your tone as even as possible. Just hearing his voice irks you to your core.

"Remind me again." He hums, wiping his shades with a piece of cloth.

This motherfucking bastard.

"You killed my father! You kidnapped my sister! What—" You inhale deeply. "What did you do to her!" You hiss, unable to keep your voice from raising as your hands form fists, violent rage bubbling within you. There is a knife hidden underneath your bra and you consider pulling it out and stabbing him.

You can be quick but it wouldn't cause enough damage.

Besides, you need to know if your sister is alive.

"I see you are furious and I understand that feeling." Jihoon begins, throwing one leg on top of another as he links his hands together, leaning back to sit comfortably.

You hate how nonchalant he is about all this.

"Since I'm in a good mood today and my younger brother has asked for a favour after a very long time, I'll answer your questions. Let's begin with your father's death, shall we? My family had a deal with your father. He was to provide us with weapons and artilleries for a year because our usual supplier got murdered earlier that year and we chose him as a temporary replacement. In November of that year, a war broke out between us and the Russians. We went to war with those weapons. Guess what happened?"

You remain silent, staring at him in rage.

"The weapons stopped working. The guns would either jam or misfire. Hundreds of my men died and we lost that war. Your father sold us weapons that were crap. They were a batch of second grade weapons that he had lying around." Jihoon pauses for a second before resting his arms on the table and leaning closer to you. "You know why he did that?''

"Because he had gambled away the initial deposit we gave him. That led to an argument with his manufacturer who said the deal would be on hold. He could neither get the weapons nor cancel the deal with us so like a fucking coward, he sold us those shitty weapons."

"You are lying." You hiss.

"I was hoping you would say that. You see, I don't care whether you believe me or not, ___. You asked for the truth and here it is."

Bullshit.

Lee Jihoon is the master of manipulation, there is no way he is being honest right now.

"Then where is my sister? What did you do with her?"

His eyes darken at your words.

"She is alive. That is all you need to know." His tone is clipped.

You are immediately on your feet, the chair scraping backwards by your sudden motion. "Where is she, you fucking son of a bitch!" You bang your fists on the table, ready to jump on him. His bodyguard starts to come to you but Jihoon raises his hand as a signal for him to stand back.

"Sit down, ___." He remains unbothered. "Wherever she is, she is safe and well."

"Like I believe a word that comes out of your mouth! If she is really alive why won't you tell me!" You scream.

"Because your sister told me not to."

The ground slips away from your feet as your heart starts galloping. "What— what you talking about, you fucking liar!"

Jihoon gets up and walks towards you, fixes the chair back in its place and forces you to sit down by grabbing your shoulders.

"Look, ___. I am doing you the favour of explaining everything which I never do for anyone else. You can either act civil and stop calling me names or I have you escorted out right now." He threatens in your ear, his body leaning against the garden table. Your hands form tight fists in your lap as it takes everything within you to hold yourself back from punching him.

He says, "A word of advice for you, don't believe everything you see. Your sister has her demons that she had been hiding for a long time. She had them when we took her and she still has them. When she overcomes all of them, she will come find you."

You are stunned to silence.

"I- I don't believe you. You are making all this up." Your brain is scrambling, trying to fit the pieces together that you seem to have missed.

"Alright then. I'll contact your sister and tell her to write you a letter, maybe even attach some pictures. How about that?"

You remain silent.

Jihoon sighs and sits back down on the chair, before reaching for his phone inside his jacket. Swiping through the device, he finds what he is looking for before turning the screen towards you.

A gasp escapes you as your hands come to cover your mouth. It is a picture of your sister. You recognize her immediately despite the change in her features throughout the years. She sits by a window, a very subtle smile on her lips as she looks at the camera.

You could look at that picture forever but Jihoon takes the phone away, putting it inside his pocket as you blink away the tears from your eyes.

"You are all murderers. You ruined our lives." You whisper, your head hanging low as you stare at the green grass below your feet suddenly overcome with a feeling of helplessness.

Has she really been alive all this time? Has she been well?

"We never said we weren't. Our world abides by some rules and your father was well aware of those rules. His greed got the best of him and in a perfect world, his family wouldn't have suffered for his crime but in our world, that is the rule."

Tears brim in your eyes as you are overwhelmed with distraught.

"Thousands of people in district one had to die for your father's greed. It is only fair that he died. We didn't even make it painful and that is something our men were not blessed with." His tone becomes dark by the end.

"If you still don't believe me, I will mail you some of the investigation reports on that case. But this is as far as I'll entertain you, ___ and this is the last time I wish to see you in my premises unless I call you." Jihoon stands up, putting his hands in his pockets as you keep glaring holes into the ground.

"One final piece of advice, if you aren't serious about my brother, leave him." His words make you look up at him. "Me and Seokmin don't talk to each other anymore but for you, he contacted me after years, leaving behind his pride. He seems to have serious feelings about you. If you don't feel that way about him, leave. You got what you wanted."

Did you? Did you really get what you wanted?

"Goodbye." He puts on his shades and strides out of the garden, his bodyguards trailing after him as you are left alone with your thoughts and the tea which has now gone cold.

You get back into Dokyeom's car in silence. The man does not ask any questions or acknowledge you, mutely starting the car almost as if you are not even here.

You sit still, stuck in a trance as Jihoon's words replay in your mind over and over again. Now, you truly do not know what is the truth and what is the lie as you spiral into a dark pit of hopelessness. Could it truly be that Changkyun and his father lied to you? But why would they do that? Why would Jihoon lie to you either? He has no reason to. He is not afraid of anyone and he has no benefit from lying to you.

Your mind starts to numb from the continuous onslaught of thoughts. When you finally take a break from them and focus on your surroundings, you realize the car has come to a stop. It is parked on a small cliff that overlooks a mountain range far away. Seokmin looks at you expectantly, almost as if he is waiting for you to step out of the car. Without much thought, you do that and he follows you as you both silently tread towards a small bridge nearby. Resting against it, you take in the view for a few minutes, the man next to you doing the same.

"I heard you don't speak to your brother anymore." You decide to speak. It caught you off guard when Jihoon first mentioned it but you have been too preoccupied with other worries to address it. It is making sense to you now as to why you could not find anything at his house.

After a moment, his soft voice floats through the silence. "I used to be really close with my brother. I looked up to him ever since I was a child. In a world as grim as ours, he was a source of hope and a shelter for me." He breathes, his eyes focused ahead, clouded with memories. "It was a given that he was going to be the next don since he was the oldest but he always told me that I'd be a better leader, that I should be prepared to take over if anything were to happen to him. Sometimes, it felt as if he trusted me more than he trusted himself and I didn't want to let him down."

Seokmin comes to a pause as his gaze shifts from staring straight ahead to coming lower and lower, finally stopping at his shoes. With his head hanging low and a dejected posture, he whispers. "Everything changed after that war. Our father died along with so many of our men. The bloodshed was too much for me. I tried to suck it in by telling myself that I will overcome this. I will get used to it but the thing was, I didn't want to. I didn't want to get used to the violence, to the bloodshed, to that life and finally, after killing your father and taking away your sister, I gave up."

There is a heavy pause in the air. Your breath is trapped in your lungs as you watch him, waiting eagerly for his next words, urging him to continue while failing to find your voice.

"That night, I told hyung I was going to leave. I was going to denounce everything. My title, my inheritance, everything. My final gesture of loyalty and love for him was to aid him in killing the man that caused all the mess but my brother...He was...livid. He punched me, yelled at me and finally begged me not to leave. When I still said no he looked at me for a long moment." His breath shudders as he pauses shortly.

"I remember it so vividly. His face went completely blank as he ordered his men to escort me out, not even saying goodbye or looking back. That night I left and I never saw him again until...today. To the members of District 1, it was like the Lee family expanding their territory by having me step into the world of art under a new name. You also thought the same but now, you know the truth."

His eyes finally move as he shifts his position, leaning against the edge of the rail to look at you.

"Our world isn't fair, ___ and you cannot judge our actions based on the laws of the normal world. I do not like bloodshed or violence but I've realised that sometimes it is necessary to keep the balance. Killing your father was such a moment and—" he pauses, his brows furrowing as he looks at you desperately, almost like he's in pain as he searches for the right words.

"I do not regret it. I regret a lot of things but do not regret his death. I'm sorry that you lost your father and I'm sorry that you had a tough life. More than anything else, I'm sorry that you harboured all these negative feelings inside you only to realise that the truth was something else entirely. I'm sorry it had to be like this, ___."

You swallow, blinking to hold back tears. His eyes shine, mirroring yours as you both stare at each other in silence. You want to scream, yell at the top of your lungs that he is lying but you know that if you open your mouth, only sobs will come out. So you opt for watching Seokmin in silence as a gust of cool breeze flows by, messing your hair while you pray that it takes away your despair along with it.

"I'm going to leave you alone now. I'm sure you need some time to process everything. I just wanted to say my part." He whispers, slowly taking steps away. He pauses for a beat on his way to see if you say anything but you keep staring at the sky as if hypnotised. As his footsteps get farther away and the car's engine roars to life, your tears fall, cascading down your cheeks in endless streams.

-

Sleep doesn't come easily to you that night. With the rise of the sun, you get some shut eye before waking up and lying in your bed for hours, sinking deep into the hollow in your chest that feels like it's devouring you whole. Beside you, your phone rings multiple times with Changkyun's calls but you ignore them, not prepared to face him, not prepared to confront your best friend that he has been lying to you. When the growls of your stomach finally grow too loud for you to tolerate, you get up to eat something.

Inside your large house, you float around like a ghost, the emptiness and coldness of the structure mirroring how you feel on the inside. Your brain is too broken to think yet thoughts overflow, numbing you.

As you eat some cereal you finally decide to check your phone and you see Changkyun's message.

I dropped by your house this morning. You didn't open and you are not picking up.

Come to the seaport when you see this. We need to talk.

Your first reaction is to put your phone face down, ignoring the text. But as time ticks by and you see the afternoon sun going lower and lower in the sky, you change your mind. You need to talk to him. You deserve to know the truth from his mouth. Besides, the sooner you get this over with the better.

Maybe it's finally time to retire to a city by the beach, you think to yourself as you drive to the seaport.

-

The wind is high and the sun is about to disappear beneath the horizon when you reach the port. Parking your car, you walk along the edge of the platform, letting the cold her blow into your face as you watch the ships nearby get loaded with containers. As you stop to watch the sunset, you soon hear footsteps behind you and years of familiarity let you know it's Changkyun.

Sure enough, a few seconds later he comes to stand next to you.

"I have been trying to reach you all morning."

"Hm."

Your response probably comes unexpected to him as he shifts his position, turning to look at you, eyes intensely boring into you.

A gust of a particularly strong wind flows, disrupting your hair, covering your face with a few strands, almost as if shielding you from his scrutiny.

"Well?" He prods. You remain silent, staring ahead, racking your brain for the right words to start this conversation.

"___, what did that murderer say?" He asks again, his pitch rising.

"Not what I expected to hear." You give in with a sigh, turning your head to look at him in the eye. Changkyun's eyes widen just a fraction, a look of alarm settling on his face.

"I think we were not completely innocent, either." There's a coldness in your voice but he misses it, hissing. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You tell him how the meeting with Jihoon went before posing the million dollar question. "Is that really the truth, Changkyun?"

With every word leaving your lips, you see his expression change, going from disbelief to betrayal to anger and then, to guilt.

A silence falls as you wait and watch him, holding your breath as his head hangs low, his hair covering his face as he stares at the ground. The remnants of your hope fade away with every passing second.

"Tell me the truth, Kyun! Did my father really gamble away the money?" Your voice is a desperate plea.

"So what if he did!" He scowls at you.

Your whole body freezes as your fears get confirmed. It takes a good moment for you to speak. "Why did you and your father lie to me? You said he was completely innocent, that he did nothing wrong yet got murdered by Ji—"

"For revenge! I lied so that we could take revenge!"

"Revenge for what!" You cry, frustrated. "You and I know very well what the rules are in this world. You would not spare me either if I did to you what my father did!"

"They took your sister, ___. God knows what they did—"

"She's alive." You whisper.

Changkyun's eyes widen, his mouth opening to say something yet failing to do so. He brushes a frustrated hand through his hair, exhaling loudly as he processes the information.

"What is the plan now?" He asks, his voice muted, looking at the ground.

"What do you mean what's the plan!" You cry. "Did you not hear me? There is no plan, Kyun. This is as far as I can go!"

"You do not mean that, ___!" His voice booms, eyes wide with rage. "They killed your father, ruined his empire, ruined every one of our fucking lives! They have your sister locked away for fucks sake!"

You say the words you never thought you would. "My father did not have an empire. What he had was a gambling addiction and a business built on a house of cards." Your voice grows meek, eyes shining with tears of pain and exhaustion. "As for my sister," you take in a deep breath. "Jihoon said he would make her write me a letter. He said she has reasons for hiding but she is safe. I have decided to trust his words for now."

"You—" Changkyun looks at you, baffled. "You are a fucking coward, ___! What about the work we put on all these years? What about us? What about my father? Who's going to avenge him!"

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. Blinking back tears, you try to compose yourself by taking in a deep breath. "I had a harsh wake up call that made me realize that all these years you were lying to me and using me to quench your bloodthirst. Who's going to avenge your father? Maybe you, if you are crazy but not me. His addiction led him astray and he committed suicide. What is there to avenge?"

"___! He ended up like that because the Lees killed your father and ruined our business!" He's like a madman as he steps closer to you, yelling. You yell back, "Just stop it, Changkyun! What do you want me to do, huh? March into Jihoon's house and start firing? Do you know the levels of security that place has? Whatever men we have, he has ten times more and I do not want my team to walk into a suicide mission without any cause. And most importantly, I will not jeopardise the safety of my sister! Jihoon knows her whereabouts and I need him if I want to see my sister again!"

"You... you—" Changkyun has turned red with fury as his words fail him.

You do not like how this conversation is going and your exhaustion makes you take a step back.

"We were carrying their sins with us but I have realised, we don't need to. Our parents...they made their decisions and paid the price for it. Let it end with them, please. I don't want to drag this any more. I am tired, Kyun." You whisper, praying the words to reach him.

Years of hunting and planning the destruction of one man has left you tired to your bones along with a general disdain for the world you have been living in. You were alone all along, chasing a ghost.

It is time to stop.

"No. You are not tired. You are a coward. A brainwashed coward." Changkyun sneers, venom dripping from his eyes.

"If that's what you would like to believe, then so be it." You conclude, not finding the energy to argue with him anymore. Your indifference irks him as he scowls at you, his hands clenched into fists.

You announce. "I am going to retire. You can take over from here on but I suggest you look into doing something new. Our business—"

"Don't you fucking dare give me advice!" His voice booms as he charges towards you. In the blink of an eye, he grabs you by the collars, livid. "Don't utter a single fucking word, you traitor! You fucking liar! You got some dick and decided to switch sides huh!" He seethes, gripping your collars tight and violently shaking you. The headache you already had intensifies but that isn't the thing that's hurting you.

His words hurt. Despite his lies, you considered him your best friend for the past six years. And maybe it's the attachment or the nostalgia of all these years that prevents you from fighting back.

You are done.

You have done enough fighting for a lifetime.

Mean words roll off Changkyun's tongue as he pushes you to the ground in a fit of rage, throwing his legs over your torso as he wraps his arms around your neck.

The next moment there is a click of a gun and you manage to peek over Changkyun's shoulder to find Seokmin standing behind him, pointing a revolver at the back of his head.

Your breath catches in your throat.

What the hell is he doing here?

Changkyun's grip on your throat loosens when he feels the presence behind him as he attempts to turn around. However, Seokmin presses the nozzle of the gun harder into his head, hissing. "Let her go. Now."

"Changkyun, please. Stop." You whisper, finally finding your voice. You do not like the look in Seokmin's eyes, something you've never seen before, something lethal and untamed and paired with the gun in his hand, you do not trust what he might do.

"Speak of the devil." Changkyun scoffs, looking at you, still holding a steady grip on your neck. "The boyfriend is here to save the day."

"Let. Her. Go." Seokmin repeats.

Changkyun looks torn, fury blazing in his eyes while also being aware of the gun being pointed at his head. With a frustrated grunt, he loosens his grip on your throat and you use that fraction of a second to tackle him by grabbing his arms and pinning him to the ground as you come on top. "Stop it, Kyun." Your plea is a whisper that is met with eyes full of wrath.

The next second Seokmin abruptly tugs you behind by your arm as he takes a step forward, becoming a barrier between you and Changkyun. The gun is still in his hand, pointing towards your friend.

"Seokmin put the gun down. It's fine." You try to step forward and pry the weapon out of his hand but he doesn't let you, holding you behind protectively with an arm outstretched.

"You may trust him, but I don't," Seokmin replies, eyes fiercely trained on Changkyun who has sat up. His eyes are equally furious with an underlying hint of challenge, as if he's daring Seokmin to shoot.

And he just might.

"For fucks sake, both of you! Enough!" You holler, clutching onto Seokmin to drag him further away from Changkyun who slowly stands up and brushes the dust off of him before looking at you with a deathly stare. Seokmin's grip on your arm tightens, the gun still in his hand but not pointed at him now.

You can almost physically feel the air thicken with tension.

"Don't try to contact me, ___. If I see your face ever again, there will be a bullet hole between your eyes." Changkyun grits out, sparing one last look of scorn at you before marching away.

With the kaleidoscope of colours of the dusk sky, you watch your best friend of years walk away, experiencing heartbreak and a weird relief at the same time.

Silence settles with the sun dipping below the horizon. Seokmin let's go of you, putting some distance between your bodies. Your eyes meet his as you exchange a silent look full of turbulent emotions.

Emotions you can't quite name yet feel overwhelmed with.

"How did you find me?" Your soft inquiry breaks the silence. He removes his gaze from you and looks at the ground. "Went to your place this afternoon. As I was pulling up I saw your car leave and I just...followed you."

"Why?"

"I... don't know. My gut told me I should." He replies calmly.

You sigh as another beat of silence fills the air. The sky is now fully dark, spread wide with different shades of purple. The wind has gotten significantly colder and you feel like if you stay out too long, it will settle into your bones.

Like the echoing coldness in your heart.

"You should not have interrupted. I was dealing with him."

Seokmin frowns. "Dealing with him? By lying still and letting him choke you?"

"Like I said—"

"Forget that,'' Seokmin interrupts you with a huff. "I went to your place because I had to tell you something." You look at him inquisitively as he fishes out something from the breast pocket of his trench coat.

Extending his hand towards yours, he pushes something into your palm.

A ticket.

"What is this?" You find yourself asking.

"Remember how you said you wanted to go to a place by the sea." He begins, his voice soft like his gaze. "Well, this is it. Now that everything is over, you can go and live by the beach. This cruise leaves tomorrow afternoon. It'll take a few days to reach Barcelona."

You look at the little piece of paper in your hand, letting his words wash over you.

"Think of this as an apology for everything. For what me and my family put you through." He adds when you don't reply.

"I see." Your voice is almost inaudible.

Seokmin says nothing for a few moments, as if waiting for you to speak but when you don't, he continues. "I am going as well. To Barcelona, I mean."

You move his gaze to him and blink inquisitively.

"I felt like taking a break after everything. I haven't been on a vacation for a very long time. I, too, wanted to see the ocean. When I got tickets, I thought I'd get one for you. We don't have to go together or see each other if you decide to go, that is..." He trails off.

You gaze at him for a while, memorising his features. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, you force a smile and give him a shaky nod.

"Well, then. I'll get going." He takes a few steps back, rubbing his palms together.

"Bye."

"If you don't come tomorrow, this is goodbye, no?" He asks as he continues to take small steps away from you, still facing you.

"I guess so." You reply. He stops and takes a long look at you before saying. "It was really nice knowing you, ___. Despite our history, despite the short time, I don't regret meeting you and... loving you." The last two words fade into a whisper, making you doubt if he even said them.

You don't get a chance to reply. You don't even get a chance to wholly process his words before he gives a wave, a small smile on his face before jogging away.

You stay rooted to your spot.

I don't regret meeting you and loving you.

-

The sun is shining stronger than any other afternoon when you step out of the taxi with nothing but a small bag pack on your shoulders. Receiving the boarding pass, you walk into the deck which is now empty because the ship is set to leave in just five minutes.

It is not fully empty, however, because one person stands, looking anxious, his eyes skirting around wildly.

When his eyes land on you, a smile of relief seems to appear on his face, triggering the corners of your lips to rise slightly as well. In silence, you walk to him.

"You came." His voice sounds glad but also as if he is trying to school his excitement.

"Did not want to waste a free ticket." You shrug, looking away.

Seokmin nods. "Right. Well, you are just on time."

"I know." There's a pause for a second as he looks like he wants to say something. A staff gives out the final boarding call which makes you continue your way into the cruise, followed by Seokmin.

Once you are boarded, you walk towards the front of the vessel, glad that it is not too crowded. The whistle of the cruise booming in the air signals the start of its journey as the sunlight and the warm breeze kiss your face.

"I'm glad you decided to come," Seokmin says, making you turn around to look at him. In the soft glow of the sun and the wind playing with his hair, he looks breathtaking.

After a moment, you whisper. "Me too."

Giving you a nod and a friendly smile, he walks away with his suitcase into the upper deck and out of sight while you stand and watch him go, the sun warming your skin.

-

1 month later

The evening air has a slight chill, not uncomfortable but just pleasant. You walk barefoot on the sand, hands crossed over your chest as your feet carry you down the edge of the ocean with practised ease. Around you, people enjoy the beach after a hectic day, children playing around laughing, parents taking videos, friends flying kites, couples walking hand in hand. The sound of the waves crashing to the shore along with the remnants of orange hues in the sky sets up a wonderful atmosphere, which, after almost a month, you have become used to but certainly not bored of.

You have never felt so much at peace.

This getaway was truly what you needed as you learned to spend time by yourself, alone with your thoughts, isolated from the world yet watching it pass by. It has been a palliative experience so far. You came to terms with your life, your past, your actions and your feelings for a certain individual.

Just one day into your getaway, a letter was brought to your room by a hotel staff and upon opening it, you realised Jihoon kept his promise.

It was a handwritten letter from your sister, along with a picture of her, sitting next to a large painting that she created. She looks different, not how you remember her, a different glow on her face that you did not remember because she was almost always melancholic.

You now feel a little guilty because you never asked her why.

Dear ____.

It has been a long while, no? I am sorry for being out of touch. It is unforgivable, I know but I finally found the courage to write to you after you came to visit Jihoon. When we were first separated something was chasing me that made me want to run away from everything. I put off connecting to you for your own good when I heard you were living with Changkyun and his father and just like that, years had passed. I occasionally looked into your whereabouts and I knew you were doing fine but I never found it in me to get rid of the guilt and just write to you.

I tried hard not to show it but life was not so kind to me before the last six years and getting taken away from our dad was probably the best thing for me.

It is a story for another day and there are still demons that I need to defeat. After that I will come to see you and ask for forgiveness. Until then, live well and rest easy knowing that I have been doing better for the past few years.

Your sister.

Reading the letter was bittersweet, the first emotion invoked within you was hurt and longing as you shed a few tears seeing your sister's picture, mused about the old days and wondered what she went through all by herself.

Initially, you had thought of writing back a reply but you decided against it because the words you wish to utter can not be confined within a paper. Instead, you sent out a prayer to the universe, hoping you would get to meet her sometime soon.

From a distance, someone calls out your name, calling your attention back to the present and you turn instinctively to find Seokmin jogging towards you through the sand, two cones of ice creams in his hands. A smile appears on your lips as you take a few steps towards him, reaching your arms out. Wrapping him in a soft hug, you plant a sweet kiss on his lips before taking an ice cream from his hand and reaching for the other as well.

"Both of these are for me right?"

The poor man looks conflicted. "Well, uhm, no but if you want you can have them."

You snort a burst of laughter. "You can have it, Min. Maybe save a bite for me."

Hand in hand, you two walk a little closer to the shore and sit down, letting the flow of the waves occasionally touch your feet.

Your relationship with Seokmin developed surprisingly but quickly after coming to Barcelona. Initially, you did not expect anything, too overridden with the guilt of your tricks and the history of your families to make any attempt to talk to him. Two weeks went by as you did not see each other, except for occasionally bumping into each other at the beach or the hotel lobby because as fate would have it, you two shared the same hotel. It was hard and uncomfortable, pretending not to see him when you ran into him and it would make you wonder if he felt the same.

It all changed one night when you were returning to the hotel after dinner and some drinks. Tipsy and wobbly, you focused extra hard to not bump into anyone as you made your way into the lobby of the hotel.

And there you bumped into him, quite literally.

"Hey there, easy," The man's hands hold your shoulders to stop you from falling on your ass. You look up and find Seokmin. Thinking that you are seeing things, you blink two more times before coming to terms with the fact that it was indeed Seokmin in front of you.

"Someone had a lot to drink," He says as you try to regain your balance. "Can you go to your room by yourself? Should I come with you?"

With a huff, you push him away, trying to appear independent as you take wobbly steps. Seokmin decides to escort you, as he follows closely behind all the way, one hand outstretched, ready to catch you in case you fall.

When you reach your room, Seokmin assists you in unlocking the door. Once the job is done successfully, you pause in the entryway to look back at him. He stands there, somewhat awkward and you consider whether to shut the door on his face or ask him to come in. Neither of them sounds like a good idea but still, you kick the door to open it a little wider and murmur as you walk in, "Come in, if you want."

You don't look behind as you head for the small fridge to retrieve a water bottle and chug it down. Seokmin steps in, a bit hesitant, closing the door behind him. You take a seat on the edge of your bed as Seokmin gingerly sits down on the couch placed in front.

A small moment of silence passes by as you two observe each other. He is dressed in running gear and judging from the pristine condition of his hair, you assume that he was on his way for a late night jog.

"We keep bumping into each other," Seokmin tries to break the silence. You nod, "Must be fate." You are not quite sure if you said those words genuinely or sarcastically. Seokmin does not reply, probably thinking that you are being sarcastic.

You find yourself asking, "How have you been?"

"Good."

"How long do you plan to stay here?"

"A couple more weeks maybe."

"Are you having fun?''

"Yes."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

He takes a moment before replying, "Not really. I'm more worried if I am making you uncomfortable."

"Hm," you hum and with that, the conversation dies down. You have a lot to say on your mind but your mind is not in its top condition right now as you have had a few drinks, which makes it a bit harder to arrange your thoughts and address them accordingly.

"I should get going, I suppose," Seokmin says, rubbing his palms on his thighs.

"Wait," the words slip out of your mouth in urgency and you are not even sure why you are telling him so.

The man blinks at you.

"I—" You don't know what you wish to say. "I guess I just wanted to say...I'm sorry."

Seokmin appears a little surprised hearing you say that as he sits up straighter. You huff out a long breath, looking down at the empty water bottle in your hand. "What I'm trying to say is that...I am sorry that I played with your feelings. I- I am sorry for using you. You are a nice person, professor."

You calling him by his old title makes him smile as he says. "I just realized I missed you calling me by that name."

"Professor?"

"Yes, ___?"

A small smile appears on your face as well as you bite your lip to stifle it.

"___?" Seokmin's soft voice makes you look at him. He looks unsure but also hopeful. "Hypothetically, if I told you that I still miss you and that I still long for you, what would you say?"

"Your breath stalls as you watch him, wide eyed. There is a sudden lump in your throat that makes it impossible for you to speak. You are scared you might start crying if you do so. Still, you breathe, "Hypothetically, I would say that I feel the same too.''

"And would it be a lie this time, my beautiful liar?"

You swallow as you watch him take slow steps towards you. When he stands right in front of you, his hands gently cup your cheeks, carefully tilting your head upwards so that you can meet his eyes. They shine with emotions unsaid, just like yours and the look on his face makes your heart soar, makes you forget everything, makes you want to be selfish.

"No," you whisper.

You get to see the slightest tilt of his lips to a smile as he leans down and presses his lips to yours, softly at first before you eagerly chase his lips and he reciprocates, moving the hair away from your face and holding your neck with one hand and stroking your cheek with the other.

The kiss is full of passion but also slow and sweet, an addictive combination that tells you that you are done for. With another kiss on your forehead, Seokmin lets go, stepping away from you.

"Will I see you tomorrow morning or will you declare this as a drunk mistake and start hiding from me?" He asks cheekily.

You can't help a smile. "I will expect you to pick me up at 9 am sharp. We will have breakfast together."

You will take it slow this time.

"Whatever you wish," He flashes his beautiful smile, heading for the door. As he is about to close it behind him, he turns his head around. "Goodnight, ___. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Seokmin."

-

Fast forward a couple of weeks later, you two moved out of the hotel and instead rented a small villa near the coast for an indefinite amount of time. You have no plans of going back home but you know that Seokmin's nature of work will require him to leave sometimes which you are fine with.

"So, I got an invitation to a seminar in London." Seokmins words jolt you out of the thoughts running in your head. "I don't think they are going to accept a no." He adds sadly.

"You don't have to say no." You reply. "Just go and attend it. Share your expertise with the world."

"Mhmm," he hums, looking at you in a contemplating gaze. "Would you consider coming with me?"

You blink. "Well..."

"It's a one-day seminar. We can stay a couple of days more and look around the city. It would be fun, I think."

You consider his words. It would be fun, actually.

You have no reason to hold yourself back from having new experiences now. You have punished yourself enough.

"It's a good idea." You reply with a soft smile that makes your boyfriend grin as he puts his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling your body closer to him. You let your head fall on his shoulder as you watch the sky grow dark.

No more lies now, it's just peace.

Your story that began with lies painted in red will end in red too, but this time the red will paint love.

A/N: Thanks for reading it till the end! I would like to apologize for the delay as this was supposed to be posted two weeks earlier but yk, life happened. The other two stories of this series are in the making but the next story will not be out before May. Also, I am planning on making a standalone for Jihoon's story which will not exactly be a part of this series but it's in the same timeline. It will be posted after all the stories of this series are completed. Anyways, stay safe and toodles!

Also, please leave a comment and reblog! It really motivates me to create more!

© startlightxsvt 2024 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, repost, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

[bella-rose29]

paper rings

Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 10.2k words

Warnings: mild spoilers for the later books (this is set after TEG and they're all 18+), a LOT of mildly explicit innuendoes and sexual references, swearing

this is my Valentine's Day surprise that I've been talking about, so happy Valentine's Day to you all! <3

based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name

Anthony Lockwood masterlist

It was nearly 2 in the morning, and Y/n L/n was exhausted. 

She had been on a case for the last seven hours and everything hurt and ached - including places in her body she didn't even know she had - and she just wanted her bed and an incredibly large cup of tea. 

So why was she having to babysit three other agents who really should have been old enough to look after themselves?

Two of them seemed to be high on flare fumes, giggling about absolutely nothing and making weird sounds every few seconds. The third was smiling fondly at his friends and coworkers, but wasn't doing anything to stop them from getting closer and closer to the edge of their sanity. 

Y/n sighed for the millionth time in the last ten minutes, and the third agent (the one who wasn't as insane as the other two - she'd nicknamed him Beanpole) looked over from where he was leaning back against the DEPRAC van with his arms crossed. Somehow he looked effortlessly cool and relaxed, despite the plasma stains and dirt covering his entire body. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

“I'm fine, just want to go home and stop looking after three other agents.” 

“Ah, that’s fair. Wait, 'looking after’?”

“Yeah, Barnes told me to keep an eye on you three 'cause you were in trouble or something.” 

“Oh, we're not in trouble,” he grinned, and although she rolled her eyes she couldn't deny the way her heart skipped a beat at his smile. “Barnes just likes being dramatic. We didn't do anything.” Somehow she didn't believe him, but the sheer amount of charm that was pouring out of him was making her disregard any concerns she had about how truthful he was being. 

“So what is it that you aren't in trouble for then?” His grin only grew wider, and Y/n found herself smiling back. 

“Minor property damage. But in our defence our client didn't warn us about the malignant smoke that she'd seen creeping out of the basement or even the intense waves of nausea she felt when walking past her under stairs cupboard. So we really can't take any of the blame for completely decimating her bannisters and front hall. Plus, we're insured.”

“No you're not,” Barnes interrupted, joining the conversation and holding a manilla folder. “You didn't have your DEPRAC standardised iron chains, Lockwood. Not according to this report.” That made Beanpole (Lockwood? Although that didn't sound much like a name) stand up, uncrossing his arms as a frown decorated his pretty face. 

“What? But we did, I made sure after Mrs Hope's house.” Y/n didn't know what had happened at Mrs Hope's house, but from the way Barnes was frowning even more than usual and somehow looking even more unimpressed with Beanpole she figured she didn't want to know. “You can go in and check if you like, they're still in the hall.”

“Fine. L/n, you go in and check.” 

“What?” 

“Just check the chains are there, then come back. They managed to at least get rid of the ghosts.”

“Alright,” she grumbled, hoisting her belt up a little and trudging off in the direction of the building Barnes had pointed her to. She shouldn't even be here, since she was meant to have been at home around half an hour ago, but now she was making her way into some random woman's house to carry out a job that any random DEPRAC officer could have done (if what Barnes had said about the other agents removing the Visitors was true). She pushed open the door, glad for her gloves at the chill in the air, and scoffed when she immediately laid eyes on the thick iron chains that had been kicked to the side in the fight. Y/n picked them up, huffing under the added weight, and was about to turn and leave when her eyes caught on the state of the front hall. “What the actual fuck…” she whispered, then shook her head and closed the door behind her, choosing to ignore the mess inside. 

“Well?” Barnes demanded when she'd made her way back. She dropped the chains at his feet. 

“Yep. I don't know why I had to do that though, anyone could have looked.” She was being irritable, she knew, but she thought she was perfectly justified in feeling that way.

“Alright.” Barnes looked unhappy about the whole situation too, but that wasn't Y/n's fault. “Then just sign these papers and you three can go.” Beanpole was smiling smugly, and he nodded and took the papers that Barnes handed him. 

“Thank you, Inspector. Luce, George, here.” They were both still laughing at something only they knew about, clutching their sides as they took the sheets of paper that Beanpole handed them. 

“Can I go home too?” Y/n asked Barnes while the others signed the forms. 

“Yeah. Maybe catch a ride with these three, they're your way.”

“Fine.”

A few minutes later the four of them were piled into a taxi and heading off down the road in the direction of Marylebone. 

“So,” Beanpole started. The moon was shining bright on his face through the taxi window, making him look like a Visitor himself when combined with his already pale skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. He still looked effortlessly gorgeous though, and Y/n found herself wondering if he was single. “You're an agent then. Solo?”

“Oh, yeah. Never liked working for the big companies. They never really cared about the people, you know? Shit,” her eyes widened as she realised what she'd said. “Are you a company?”

“Yes, but don't worry. We have a grand total of four people at our agency. Sometimes five or six if we get extra help from others.”

“That's... very small. Is the fourth your supervisor?”

“No, our secretary actually. Holly doesn't much like being in the field anymore though, but that works out alright for us. She still gets paid a good amount.”

“So if you don't have a supervisor…”

“I'm the agency head,” he smiled, but now instead of appearing chipper and light, he looked tired and weighed down by the responsibility of running a company and looking after his coworkers. “Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood and Co.” 

“Y/n L/n, formerly of Fittes.” They shook hands awkwardly in the limited space they had in the back of the taxi. 

“And you left because they don't care about the people?”

“That's right. I always wanted to connect more, but I guess that's because of my Touch. Fittes were much more businesslike about it all, just going in and getting the job done and not caring about anything other than having another successful case under their belt. It just didn't sit right with me.”

“Well if you ever feel like working for a company again, you could always come and work with us,” Anthony Lockwood said. “I'm sure we could do with someone like you helping us out. Besides, we do care about the people; it's pretty much the only thing going for us other than our skill in the field.”

“First stop?” the driver called out, slowing the vehicle. 

“Oh, that's me,” Y/n stated, grabbing the door handle and getting out. “Thanks for letting me ride with you.” She moved to the boot of the taxi to take her kit bag and rapier, and was surprised when Anthony Lockwood followed her, helping her to balance all the bags inside and making sure that nothing fell out. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. And I mean it, if you ever feel like joining us on a case then just come and find us.”

“That's... that's actually nice of you, thank you.” He nodded with a smile, then clambered back into the taxi (which looked difficult with how long and thin his limbs were). She stood on the pavement for a few moments, waiting for the taxi to start moving again and waving at the three agents left in the cab as they drove off down the road. 

As soon as she was inside her shared house, door firmly shut and locked and kettle boiling on the stove, she pulled up the chair at her desk and switched on her computer, typing in her password and logging in. Ten minutes later she had a mug of tea brewing on her desk while she furiously tapped at the keyboard for any information on Lockwood and Co, and was pleasantly surprised by what she found. There wasn't much, since she couldn't access a lot of the full reports of cases, but there was a decent number of newspaper articles that had been uploaded for her to read. One detailed the £60,000 fine that the company had been given for setting fire to a certain Mrs Hope's home a few years prior, and from the blurry black and white photo the blaze looked like it hadn't left much behind. 

Further research provided an address for their agency at 35 Portland Row, not far away from where she currently lived. One or two articles were about the parade incident from the Black Winter and Lockwood and Co's success in protecting the people present, but other than that there wasn't much more. 

She sat back in her chair, sipping the last of her tea. Bedtime for now, but when she finally woke up she'd head to the nearest corner store and pick up some food. The fridge had been nearly empty when she'd looked earlier, and she knew that Portland Row was on the way back. 

She wanted to say thank you again (and totally not spy on their house), and everybody loved a doughnut.

~~~

Y/n had knocked on the door roughly two minutes ago, and nobody had answered. 

She knew that they were all at home, because she could hear them arguing about who was going to answer the door, but nobody had done it yet. 

Knocking once more while balancing the box of doughnuts in her other hand she sighed, waited another thirty seconds, and just as she turned to leave she heard the locks click behind her. The door swung open to reveal Anthony Lockwood, once more dressed in a suit (a lot cleaner than the one he'd been wearing in the early hours of that morning), and a wide smile on his face. 

“It's you! Miss L/n, was it?”

“Uh, yeah. Just Y/n is fine though. Um, I just wanted to say thanks again for the lift last night, and for being nice and shit when you didn't have to be, and I bought some doughnuts if you guys wanted them.” She tried to surreptitiously peer around him to take a look at his front hall, but the interior was quite dark and cluttered and it was difficult to pretend to not be inspecting somebody's home when they were stood in front of you. 

“Oh, you really didn't have to, Y/n.” He took the box out of her hands anyway. “Did you want to come in?”

“No, thank you. I should get back. I've got a lot of paperwork to get through and I think one of my housemates is cleaning today and wanted everyone's help, so…” she trailed off, rocking slightly on her heels while Anthony Lockwood watched her. 

“Right, well, thanks for stopping by! And for the doughnuts, that was very generous of you.”

She shrugged. “I've had taxi rides with people I was actually working with and they were complete arseholes to me, so I really appreciated you not being like that when you didn't even know me.”

“Anytime.” He paused for a moment, then frowned at her. “How did you find us? I know I said that you could always drop by but I don't remember actually telling you where we live. There's not a problem with it, by the way, just curious.”

“Oh, I looked it up. Figured you meant to tell me and never got round to it. Besides, I needed to go shopping anyway and I live nearby, so it wasn't too difficult for me.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Well it was lovely seeing you again, Y/n. I look forward to our next meeting.” His smile was infectious, and she still had a grin on her face at the thought of him when she went to bed that night.

~~~

For the next few months, both Y/n and Lockwood and Co were busy with their own cases, but regularly passed each other in the street. Anthony Lockwood had taken to sending her a wink or flirty quite early on, and because Y/n believed it impossible that someone like him was single and therefore able to chase after someone like her, she ignored him. Every now and then she would indulge him, of course, flirting back to see how he would react (he was always pleasantly surprised and kept their little game going for as long as he could before he was needed), but for the most part she would walk right past him. 

It wasn't entirely her fault, since many of the times they bumped into each other she was on a time schedule, and didn't have the extra minute or so to flirt with the pretty boy. 

The last time had been different, though.

~~~

“Hello again, darling,” a voice said from her left, and Y/n smiled when she recognised it right away as Lockwood's. They knew each other better now, from the few times that they had been able to talk for longer and ask how the other was doing, and when he had found out that she was calling him Anthony Lockwood in her head he gave her a look of barely contained amusement and told her she could pick one. 

Anthony had felt too personal, since everyone else that spoke to him seemed to call him Lockwood, and she didn't think they knew each other that well for her to use his first name. 

“Come here often?” he asked, appearing in her field of view and leaning on the table she was sat at in the small night café. 

“Only when I know that you're going to be here,” Y/n responded, and delighted in the faint pink tinge that came onto his cheeks. 

“May I?” He gestured to the chair opposite her, and she nodded. 

“Not with your friends tonight?”

“No, they're probably at home already, lucky bastards. My case ran on a bit longer than I expected, and I couldn't wait for a cup of tea. Plus, when I saw you in here I couldn't not come and see you.”

They sat there for a while, making their way through two cups of tea each before deciding to leave, and Lockwood offered to take the taxi home with her.

When they were nearly back to Y/n's house, he spoke up. 

“I'll pay, if you like. I'll be paying for this stretch of the journey anyway so it doesn't make much of a difference to me.”

“Oh, Lockwood, I can pay you for my part at least, it's not a big deal to me.”

“Nonsense.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, just as they drove around the corner onto her street. “Or… you could come back to Portland Row with me?” Their flirting had never gone as far as properly inviting the other back to their place (although there had always been the comments of 'why don't we finish this somewhere else?' or 'wanna come home with me and prove it?'), and it took Y/n a moment to realise that he was being serious. 

“I mean... if you're sure? I don't want to impose or anything.”

“No, you won't be imposing, darling. George and Lucy will be asleep, I'm sure. I think there's half a bottle of wine that needs finishing off if you wanted to share? No pressure though.”

“That sounds great, actually.”

“So are you two both going to Portland Row then?” the driver called, and Lockwood nodded. 

“Yes please.” He turned back to Y/n, worry starting to creep into his expression. “You did agree, right?”

“Yes, Lockwood, I did. I think I need something that's not tea to be honest.”

“You can stay the night, too. If you need to. I'll sleep on the sofa and you can have my bed.”

“I'm not kicking you out of your own bed, Lockwood. How big is it?”

“Darling, I'm scandalised that you would ask me that question. You know that size doesn't mat-” He was cut off by Y/n smacking him in the chest, and he chuckled when she glared at him. 

“The bed, Lockwood, how big is the bed? If I wanted to know the size of your dick I'd ask you to strip.” She ignored the weird look that the driver cast them in his rear view mirror and focused on Lockwood's answer instead. 

“Steady, darling. We're not back yet.” He yelped when she whacked him again, and caught her wrists and held them so that she couldn't attack him anymore. “It's a double.”

“Well then we can both fit, can't we?”

“Asking me to strip, getting me into bed with you? If I didn't know any better, darling, I'd say that you were trying to seduce me,” he smirked, leaning in close. 

“Oh, Lockwood. I think we both know I did that a long time ago, don't we.” They were dangerously close to kissing, their lips only a couple of centimetres away from each other while their noses brushed with every jolt in the road, and then the taxi was slowing and pulling up to the curb outside 35 Portland Row. 

“Alright you two, out. And use protection please, you're too young to be havin' kids.” Y/n flushed and opened the door, moving around to the boot to take out her kit bag and rapier, and when Lockwood followed a moment later after paying the driver his face was red too.

~~~

“Here,” Lockwood said, handing over a tea mug filled with wine. 

“Thanks. You're sure the others won't mind us drinking this?”

“They've had plenty of time to drink it, and I own the house and therefore the kitchen and the contents of the fridge are mine too, so I say it's fair game.” His smile was slightly blinding, but Y/n had learned to see past the glare and look at his eyes instead, finding the pure joy behind the façade he put up for the world to see. 

They didn't know each other that well, when everything was considered, but Y/n did call him her friend when describing their relationship, and she did feel that if asked, Lockwood would say the same. 

Around thirty minutes later Y/n was nearly doubled over with laughter at some stupid thing that Lockwood had said (the wine had gone straight to her head and she had no recollection of what exactly he had said), clutching her sides as they sat in the cluttered library with the bottle of wine between them. 

“You, Anthony Lockwood, are ridiculous!”

“I am! In fact, have I shown you my hat collection?”

“Is that some sort of weird euphemism? Or are you genuinely more deranged than I thought you were?”

“Not a euphemism, love,” he grinned, and Y/n in her wine-addled state thought about how he was starting to look like the deranged young man she'd just accused him of being. 

“So... you actually have a hat collection? Why?” Lockwood shrugged. 

“It's good for disguises when I need to do a little bit of extra research for a case. I can do accents too!”

“No offence, Lockwood, but I've heard some of your accents, and I'm very surprised that you haven't been hunted down and killed yet.”

“Believe me, people have tried!” Somehow he didn't look concerned about that, still smiling just as widely as before, and Y/n thought he looked rather nice like that.

~~~

When she woke up in the morning, Y/n realised she had never taken the painkillers Lockwood had left on the bedside table for her to use. 

“Shit,” she whispered, grabbing the packet and the glass of water and swallowing the pills the best she could in an attempt to stave off the headache that had formed. After finishing off the wine, Lockwood had managed to find some more alcohol hidden away in a cupboard in the library ("It's my personal stash, so don't worry about feeling guilty about drinking this") and they had stayed up until it was nearly sunrise talking about everything and nothing. She was regretting not drinking the water before sleeping, and when she flopped back onto the bed and under the covers she realised that there was someone else in the bed with her. 

Lockwood looked peaceful asleep.

While she didn't mind waking up next to him in the morning (the view was actually rather nice), not being able to remember what had happened the night before was a little disturbing, especially since she was in her underwear and, as far as she could tell, Lockwood wasn't wearing any clothes. 

The bedsheets had been partially kicked off in the night, most likely because the heating was apparently on full from the very warm temperature of the room, and the duvet had bunched up around Lockwood's waist. She didn't want to wake him by trying to find out if anything had happened last night, since he probably never slept with the sheer size of the shadows under his eyes, so instead she carefully got out of bed and picked up her clothes.

Finding all of her things was difficult, since they'd been flung all around the room in what she hoped was drunkenness and not desperation, but after nearly ten minutes she was dressed and reaching for the door handle. She didn't make it that far though, because before she could leave the sounds of somebody waking up started coming from the bed, and Lockwood was asking her where she was going. 

“Oh, I just... I just figured you wouldn't want me to stick around-”

“Why would you think that?” He was rubbing his eyes and sitting up, and she had to force her gaze away from where the sheets were dangerously close to revealing whether or not they had slept together. 

“I don't know.” There was silence for a minute or so while Lockwood tried to wake up enough to work out what was going on, and Y/n stood by the door feeling very awkward. “Did we... did anything happen? Last night?”

“Don't think so. I feel like I would remember that, darling,” he winked, and she felt her face heat up. 

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“You don't seem convinced.”

“No, I am,” she said, very unconvincingly. There was another silence while she hesitated. “Are you naked?” she blurted out, immediately covering her face with her hands to block out Lockwood's shocked reaction. His laughter didn't help, only serving to make her feel more embarrassed than she already was, and she stayed safely behind her hands while she waited for it all to be over. 

“No, darling, I'm not naked. But if you wanted me to be then I'm sure we could figure something out.” She could hear the amusement in his voice and groaned in frustration, knowing that he wouldn't ever let her live this moment down. 

“I'm good, thanks.” She didn't really mean it, but it was nice to have a friend like Lockwood, and she figured that having sex with him probably wouldn't help to keep that friendship at all. 

“Alright. Well if you don't want to see me in my pants then keep your hands there, I'm getting out of bed.” For the most part she obeyed, but she would be lying if she said that she didn't peek through her fingers briefly while he was getting dressed.

~~~

Luckily the other members of Lockwood and Co were not at home when Y/n left that morning, having said no to Lockwood's offer of breakfast (she would pick up something from Arif's, even if it was out of her way a little), and within half an hour she was back in her own house with a very large cup of tea and a plate of food in her favourite armchair in the living room. 

When one of her housemates asked her where she had been all night, a suggestive tone to her question, Y/n simply shrugged, and replied “What's it to you?”

~~~

One week later she was running for her life. 

It wasn't that this sort of thing didn't happen often, since her job required a lot of running a lot of the time, but normally she wasn't this exhausted from it. She wasn't even working on a case, either. Y/n had just been walking home from her actual case for that night when she'd accidentally taken a wrong turn in her fatigued state and had come face to face with a bunch of Type Twos. 

At least she had her rapier and a few flares and salt bombs left, and her boots were solid enough that despite how much running she had already done that night, she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet when normally her soles would be protesting in pain. 

“Fuck's sake,” she grumbled, heading for the nearest iron fence she could find. Unfortunately she still had to cross a road that was surprisingly busy at this time of night (or morning? she wasn't sure where the line between the two was drawn) and then vault over the fence into the park, which was probably also infested with Visitors. Going against every action movie she had ever seen she looked back (which was precisely what she shouted at the characters for), then immediately stumbled since she couldn't see where she was going. Her brief pause in her flight allowed the Visitors to catch up a little, and within a few seconds she was seeing her life flash before her eyes and throwing up her rapier in a last ditch attempt to not die. 

Then something else was flashing before her eyes, and the ghosts were being driven off. 

Y/n realised with a start that the flash had been Lockwood and his stupid grin, dressed in his stupid long coat that was stupidly attractive on him, waving his rapier around in stupidly perfect motions. 

“Did you miss me, darling?” She didn't even have time to respond, already ducking to not be hit by the bicycle a Poltergeist had sent flying their way, and Lockwood pushed her to the ground to dodge the railing that followed. They landed with a thump, and Y/n winced when her back hit the concrete of the pavement and then again a very brief moment later when Lockwood landed on her. 

“I did, Lockwood. I really did miss you.” She hoped that he could see how sincere she was, and he looked as though he was about to say something. Unfortunately he was cut off when a badly-aimed salt bomb exploded right above their heads, and a small “Sorry!” was called out from somewhere nearby. 

“Not to worry, George!” Lockwood yelled back as he got off the floor. He offered out a hand and Y/n let him pull her up, holding her breath when he pulled with more force than was needed and she fell into his chest. “Woah,” he said, voice quiet. “You alright?” His free hand had come up to steady her by the arm, and now he was gently stroking up and down. She wondered if he knew he was doing it. 

“Yeah. Can we maybe run away from the death bikes?”

“I think that would be a good idea. You going home?” Y/n shook her head. 

“One of my housemates has their partner over, and I'd really rather not be there. I was gonna put up with it but if you're offering your bed again I won't say no,” she teased. Lockwood's face went pink, but not from the cold or the running. 

“I'm always offering my bed, darling, you should know that by now.” His smile was as blinding as the flash he had appeared in, and then he was tugging her hand and leading her away from the ghosts (which wouldn't be able to follow after a while, since she'd already run quite far from their Sources), and instead heading for 35 Portland Row. 

When they made it inside (Lucy was already in bed, but Lockwood and George had been coming back from a case like Y/n), George bade the two of them goodnight, then tiredly climbed the stairs, leaving Lockwood and Y/n in the front hall. It was dimly lit, only the lamp on the hall cupboard providing any reprise from the darkness, and the yellow glow of it made Lockwood look ethereal. 

He had dust and dirt all over him, staining his usually perfect white shirt and tie, and his hair was a mess from the slight wind outside, but he still wore his confidence and his charm like a second skin, and he had never looked more like Anthony Lockwood in all the time Y/n had known him. 

“What were you even doing out there?” he asked. 

“I was coming back from a job, took a wrong turn somewhere, and came face to face with those fuckers. I'm just really glad that you were there in time because I probably would've ended up in hospital otherwise. Or a furnace.”

“I'm glad I was there too,” Lockwood said, stepping forward. He made to move his hand, as though he might reach out and touch hers, but then his fist was clenching at his side again, fingers flexing every few seconds. “I thought you would be alright, really. Then I saw you trip - why the hell did you look back? You always get annoyed when they do that in movies. I was scared, Y/n, that you might not get back up again.” She could tell that he meant it too, from the way he was looking at her. It was almost too much, his gaze, since it was heavy with so much emotion that they hadn't even properly addressed between them, and that was probably why he kissed her. 

She both had and hadn't been expecting it. 

It made sense when she thought about it, because beneath all the teasing and flirting there was attraction and a real desire, and she had always figured that being with someone was easier if you knew and trusted them. But she had never thought that either of them would act on it, since both of them seemed happy to let the friendship cover up the truth because at least that meant they weren't without the other. Bringing the truth to light could ruin that, and then they might not see each other at all. 

Now, though, she wondered why they hadn't kissed before. 

It had been brief, a few seconds at most, but it was enough to make her realise that they had been incredibly stupid in not doing it earlier. She had had such a long night - they both had - and when he pressed his lips to hers for the second time she knew that despite the fatigue and near death experiences involving bicycles, they would be alright. Her hands had moved without her fully knowing, and when they pulled away after the second kiss she realised that they were in his hair and clutching his coat that he hadn't taken off yet. His were nestled around her waist, holding her close to him while he searched her eyes for any sign to stop. 

The third kiss was the longest yet, and it took them a long time to move from the front hall to his bedroom.

~~~

Y/n had always been a fan of anything that shone, and had been called a magpie by nearly everyone that knew her. 

It didn't matter if it was expensive or not, if it was shiny, then she would have it. Growing up she hadn't been used to expense, and finding trinkets on the street was her speciality, but every now and then someone would buy her something a little less on the cheap side, and she would be overjoyed. 

Then of course there were the things she bought herself. 

The Fittes Ball that she was on her way to had invited agents of all kinds (a rarity for solo agents who usually went forgotten), and her outfit was one of the most expensive things that she had bought yet (other than her shared house). It was worth it, though, for the look on Lockwood's face when he first saw her. 

“You look incredible, Y/n/n!” Lucy gushed, immediately wrapping her new friend in a hug. George and Holly agreed, and while their fussing was nice it was Lockwood's opinion she really wanted. They hadn't spoken after the night they spent together two weeks ago, and now he had an unreadable expression on his face while he looked at her. It was ridiculous, really, how nervous she was to know what he was thinking, since she had never usually cared about what any man thought of her. 

“Thank you, I love your dress, Luce! And George, are you actually in a suit? No, no, no, you look very nice! Holly, you look incredible as always,” she said, returning the compliments her friends had given her. Her gaze kept darting back to Lockwood though, and after the others had moved away to talk to someone else, he cleared his throat. 

“Y/n.”

“Lockwood.” He took a step towards her. 

“You know I told you you could call me Anthony.” He had, not long after he'd taken her to his bed. 

“Oh, right. I didn't know if that was just... for then.” She was struggling to look at him now, so she missed the way his expression softened. 

“It's for whenever, darling.”

“Okay,” she said, and the small smile he gave her made her heart beat a little faster in her chest. 

“You look stunning, darling. Truly.”

“So do you, Anthony,” she replied, and this time she took a step forward to close the distance. A frown came onto her face, and when he asked her why she paused for a moment before answering. “What are we? Because we haven't spoken since... since that night, and now we're acting like we did before and I'm just quite confused.”

Instead of responding with words, he dug into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a folded paper, handing it to her a second later. She tried not to focus too much on his hands (the memories of two weeks ago were coming back to the front of her mind now) and took it with confusion, starting to unfold it. 

“Oh, I'll be back in a minute, George is calling me over.” He flashed her one of his winning smiles and was off, moving in what she assumed was the direction of George. She finally unfolded the paper and was surprised to see that it was mostly blank, just one question and two little points below it. A pen had been folded into it, and she bit back a smile when she'd read the words. 

Would you go on a date with me? Please circle one answer

yes

no

He was ridiculous, she had decided, but then again she couldn't deny how ridiculously cute it was that he'd written out this mini questionnaire and put it in his pocket, despite not knowing whether she would actually be here or not to take it from him. Why he'd left immediately she didn't know, but maybe he was just too nervous to find out her reaction right away. She clicked the pen and circled 'yes' the best she could with no hard surface to lean on, and winced when the paper punctured. He knew where to find her, but she wrote her address anyway and the house phone number, and refolded the paper. Looking around she couldn't immediately see him, but then she caught a flash of a smile that could only have belonged to one Mr Anthony Lockwood, and she made for where he stood. He blushed slightly when he caught sight of her, then his cheeks burned brighter when she tucked the piece of paper and the pen in the pocket just inside his jacket (standing much closer to him than she needed to), and walked away without a word.

~~~

Two hours later they had snuck into the Fittes building's public library, giggling about something stupid one of the stuck-up snobs who was far too old to still be alive had said while they sipped the fancy champagne that was being served. 

“Do you think they get many kids in here? Like, actual kids who would need entertaining?” she asked, making Anthony look round from where he'd been perusing the shelves. 

“I doubt it. Why?”

“They've got origami. Look,” she pointed, putting her champagne flute down on a sideboard and picking up a sheet. “I used to be able to make loads of things, but I reckon if I tried making a rabbit or something now it'd look like someone folded a bit of paper a bunch of times and then sat on it.”

“I used to make those snowflakes where you fold it into quarters and cut bits out. Got quite good in the end; I could make chains of them eventually.”

“Of course you're good at making paper snowflakes,” she muttered, no hint of malice behind it. “You're good at everything, I swear.”

“Oh, that's not true.”

“Really? Name one thing that you can't do.” He paused, and she could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “See? You can't do it!”

“Well, I don't think that was very fair, actually, because you didn't give me long enough to actually think about it!” She moved to sit down, picking out various colours of paper squares before settling on one she liked. Anthony sat down next to her, his thigh close enough to hers that she could feel his body heat through his suit. He chose his own square of paper, immediately starting to fold it in different ways. 

“What are you gonna make?” she asked him, not looking up from where she was attempting to make an origami butterfly. 

“That's a secret.”

“Alright then,” she snorted, “be mysterious. Is that because you're bad at origami and you're trying to hide it by making me guess?”

“Sure, that's what's happening.”

They sat in comfortable silence while they worked, and when Y/n crossed her legs she made contact with Anthony's knee and drew in a breath. She refocused and looked at the paper in her hands, frowning when she realised that she had no idea how to make a butterfly out of it anymore, and sat back with a huff. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just bored, I suppose. What are you making?” He had folded his piece of paper into a thin strip, and now he was pulling the ends together, somehow making them link. 

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to her right hand. She didn't answer for a moment, too busy watching the way his fingers moved. “Y/n?”

“Oh, right.” She let him take her left hand in his, holding her breath for the millionth time around him both at the tenderness of it all and at the way his hands were so cold compared to her warm ones. He lifted the origami up and slid it onto her fourth finger, tightening it by pushing the ends together further. 

“You can take it off, if you want.”

She wasn't sure she was breathing. “Are you proposing?”

“What? No, if I was proposing you'd know about it, darling. I just… I don’t know.” He looked nervous, and although he hadn’t let go of her hand, she could see that he was fidgeting. 

“I love it, Anthony. Thank you.” He smiled then, small and as under as the way he was holding her hand, and she couldn’t help but ask what she’d been wondering for the last two hours. 

“Did you read my response?” Somehow he softened even more, and his grip tightened ever so slightly before he nodded. 

“Yes, I did.” Had he moved closer? She thought the distance between them was no longer as frustratingly large as it had been, but he was still too far away. 

“Well?”

“Are you free on Saturday? There’s a great place for lunch I’ve been dying to show you for a while now.” He was definitely closer, and she could make out the small scar on his lip in perfect detail. 

“Midday work for you?”

“Absolutely.” He was still holding her hand when he kissed her gently, like he thought she might leave at any moment, and when he pulled back after a couple of seconds she dragged him right back to her lips, shifting somehow even closer to him on the seat. The gift he had made that now sat on her finger felt as heavy as a gold one, filled with the promise of what could be and happy endings, and she found herself thinking that if the two of them did ever marry, she would be happy to do so with a paper ring. 

They were sat there kissing for a while, not stopping until someone shouted outside the door in drunken laughter, making Anthony and Y/n jump back in surprise. Then they were laughing too, like they were teenagers sneaking off (which, she supposed, they almost were, if you ignored the fact they were legally adults now), and he pressed one last quick kiss to her mouth before he stood up. “We should head out. I’m sure the others will be wondering where we are.” Y/n stood up too, still holding his hand, and moved to straighten his tie. She had pulled on it when they were kissing, and now it was all crooked around his neck. 

“I think they probably know that we’re together, though. I doubt that they’re too worried about us.” She finished fiddling with his tie and draped her arms around his neck, and flushed when he wrapped his own arms around her waist and pulled her tight against his body. They stayed that way for a while, just trading small kisses and swaying gently back and forth. 

“I’m glad,” Anthony said suddenly, breaking the silence. “That we… you know.”

“Nearly died and then slept together?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I just - I’m glad.”

“I’m glad too, Anthony.” Normally accidents like having sex with her friends was something she hated, but given it was Anthony Lockwood that it had happened with, she was happy to make an exception. 

~~~

That night, while Anthony finally managed to sleep next to her, Y/n stayed awake. The glow of the ghost lamp outside had woken her a few minutes ago while she had been surfacing, and now she couldn’t get back to sleep. Her dress hung on the back of his desk chair, and various parts of his suit were slung around the room in piles from where they had thrown them earlier in their haste to be as close as possible to each other. 

The ring now sat on Anthony’s bedside table, and although it wasn’t light enough in the room for her to make out its shape, she still knew exactly where it was. Before the two of them got too caught up in each other she had slipped it off, saying that she didn’t want it damaged (as it likely would have been), and when she placed it to the side her eyes had caught on the photo in the frame. 

“Is that us?” she had asked, grabbing the frame with both hands. 

“Oh… yes. Sorry, it was just a really nice photo and we don’t get to see each other that much, and-”

“Anthony,” she interrupted, warmth flooding her face at her next words. “I’ve got cut-outs from papers that wrote about you framed, so this is perfectly okay.”

She flushed again just thinking about it, and how softly he had smiled at her, and then how softly he had kissed her afterwards. She had been dreaming about him, about both of them, and what would have happened if they had stayed in the library at Fittes for a little longer (a lot of hushed moans and whispered words, and his hair completely dishevelled). 

He was the one that she wanted, she was sure of it. There had been others, but none of them had featured in her thoughts about the future like Anthony Lockwood did. 

~~~

Months later, when the seasons had gone from wonderfully warm and sunny (or as sunny as England could get) to cold and biting air, Anthony and Y/n were on a case together. 

She had officially become a member of the agency not too long after they started dating, and while Lucy and George had originally been worried about the logistics of living space, they quickly realised that their new hire would be sharing a bed with their boss. Y/n had settled in quickly, getting used to how her friends lived within a few weeks, and the company had settled into a nice rhythm. 

“A hotel? That’s a pretty big location, shouldn’t we have Lucy and George with us?” she asked as the taxi pulled up to their destination. 

“It seems to be contained to one area, from reports, and since they had a couple of actual children give statements I’m going to trust them. Just the outdoor space around the back, apparently someone - a worker, it says here - died while manning a barbecue near the large pool.”

“How do you die manning a barbecue?”

“He fell face-first into the coals, this says,” Anthony replied, waving the paper report around. They clambered out the taxi, thanking and paying the driver, and once the kit had been collected out the boot and the driver was heading back down the road, they were alone. 

“Well that’s an awful way to go. Type One? Or manifesting as something stronger?”

“Everything points to Type Two, but that’s nothing we can’t handle.”

~~~

He was right, as he so often was, but unfortunately the way in which they handled the Type Two ghost of the Barbecue Man meant they ended up jumping in a pool. 

The Source had apparently been one of the tiles on the ledge, where the Barbecue Man had tripped after falling face first into the coals and cracked his skull open on the edge of the pool. A delightful scene, Y/n was sure, but they hadn’t figured out what the Source was until much later. While she had been scouring the barbecue for any sign of a trigger for the Visitor, Anthony had been drawing it closer to the pool. He seemed to be having a wonderful time taunting the poor dead man, and she couldn’t help but curse him out a little under her breath. “There’s nothing here!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Anthony, I’m pretty sure!” She was just about to tell him off for questioning her when he stepped back on his right foot and made the Visitor shriek an ungodly noise. “Wait! Draw it away from where you currently are!” She wasn’t sure if he’d actually been paying attention to her words since he didn’t give any indication that he had heard her, but a moment later he started moving away, the ghost following him, and she was able to dive for the tile. The second her hands came into contact with it she felt the pain and torment that Barbecue Man had been in in the brief minutes before his death, and at the same time that she managed to dislodge the tile (it had been knocked lose, most likely from his head after he hit it) and wrap it in a silver net, Anthony jumped in the pool. When he surfaced, hair plastered to his forehead and coat and suit completely soaked, he shouted at her to jump in too, leaving the Source on dry land. She just stared at him, but then a rush of cold air hit her and she didn’t think twice. Anthony was waving his arms around, making the water move about enough to fend off the second ghost that had appeared. 

Unfortunately that meant that when Y/n attempted to come up for air, she got a face-full of water. 

“Anthony!”

“Whoops. Sorry, darling. Here,” he said, offering out his hand. She took it gladly, still spluttering slightly, and they hauled themselves to the opposite side of the swimming pool. The water was freezing, but it was better than being ghost-touched, and besides, Anthony hadn’t let go of her hand yet. 

~~~

Her hands were turning a little blue from the temperature of the pool. 

It reminded her of when they had been redecorating one of the rooms in Portland Row about two months ago. George had complained that the room was lacking something, and all inhabitants (and Kipps, although Anthony didn’t pay him much attention) agreed that they needed to update it. They had painted it blue, not too dissimilar to the colour of Y/n’s fingers in the present day, and while it had been a wonderful day it had also been the day of her and Anthony’s first fight. 

She couldn’t even remember what it had been about now, something stupid and fuelled by external factors such as job stress and fatigue, but Y/n had slept in Lucy’s bed that night. 

It had been a while before either girl went to sleep, instead spending the hours attempting to stop Y/n’s crying and watching the old tapes of movies and television shows from before the Problem that Lucy had stashed away on her bookcase. When the morning had come, Lucy had offered to go downstairs and sort out breakfast for them both, so that Y/n wouldn’t have to run into Lockwood, but Y/n had shaken her head, saying that the two of them needed to figure something out. 

The moment she had set foot in the kitchen, seeing the back of Anthony’s white dress shirt while he stood at the counter making teas (he had made one for her too, in her favourite mug), she had started tearing up again. He’d heard her sniffling and whipped his head around to see her hovering just inside the doorway, and immediately he had crumbled and rushed over to her, wrapping her in his arms and mumbling “I’m sorry” into her hair. 

Now, back from their case with Barbecue Man, they were sat in the library, Anthony pushing a cup of freshly made tea into her hands in an attempt to get them back to their normal colour. “Feeling any better?” he asked, sitting down in the chair next to hers and picking up his magazine. 

“Yeah, a bit. I can actually feel things again now, so that’s good.”

“Good. Well, I’ll keep you under surveillance for a while, just until I know you’re better.” She snorted, lifting the mug to her mouth. 

“Thanks, Doc. Much appreciated.” His responding smile was enough to warm her up entirely. 

~~~

A few hours later she woke up feeling disorientated, most likely because she never remembered falling asleep in the first place. Anthony was still in his chair on her left, but he had fallen asleep too, magazine splayed across his chest. Y/n stretched, yawned, and checked her watch, then started at the time. It was nearly half six in the morning, and they had come back from their case at around midnight. She wasn’t sure how long Anthony had stayed awake watching over her, but she knew that the moment he did finally regain consciousness she would be sending him straight up to bed for another few hours of sleep. 

She heard somebody moving around in the kitchen and went to investigate, finding George in an oversized t-shirt and no trousers putting the kettle on to boil. “Morning,” she said, shuffling further into the room and stuffing some bread into the toaster. 

“Ah, morning. Lockwood still asleep?”

“Yep. He’s in the library. Did you need him for something?”

“Oh, not really. I woke up at about four and was shockingly hungry, and when I came down he was sat reading his magazine. I was just wondering how long it would be before he was up again.” It made sense for her boyfriend to have stayed awake until he literally passed out from exhaustion, given how little Anthony normally slept anyway, and she frowned when she heard the stairs creak. A few moments later Anthony Lockwood himself appeared in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and smiling like there wasn’t a thing wrong with him only getting about two and a half hours of sleep. “I need the toilet,” George suddenly said. “If you could move out the doorway, Lockwood, that would be great. Thanks. The kettle should be boiled soon, if you two wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all, George,” Anthony replied, already taking mugs out of the cupboard. “Who’s toast is this? I think it’s burning.”

“Oh, shit, that’s mine! Fuck that’s hot!”

“Not hotter than me though, right?”

“Shut up, Anthony. My fingers are burning.” He reached over and took her hand in his, not caring for the piece of blackened toast that sat on her plate on the counter, and pressed a gentle kiss to each fingertip. She had flashbacks to the last time her hands had been near his mouth in a far less family-friendly setting, and tried to stop her knees from giving out. 

“Better?”

“Um… I guess. Yeah.” If anything she was worse, since now her whole body was on fire at how sweet that one gesture was. He hadn’t even thought about it, since there was less than a second between her saying her hand hurt and him kissing the first fingertip, and that had her knees weakening all over again. She took a step towards him, threading her burning fingers with his and placing the other one on his chest to grab at his collar and pull him in for a kiss. He’d had a long night, she was sure of it, and the more-prominent-than-usual bags under his eyes were giving her a solid argument. The kiss was short and sweet, and when she pulled back he followed her for a moment before realising that it was over. He pouted, his eyes practically begging for her to kiss him again, and she let out a small laugh before obliging. That kiss was sweet too, but lasted a little longer, and the third one would have gone on for longer still had George not come back from the toilet and pretended to gag. 

~~~

“Anthony?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about just… leaving for a bit? Not completely, I don’t think I could stay away from London forever, but just running off on holiday for a while. Getting a break from the ghost hunting and constant threat of death.”

“That’s… really? You want to ask that now? Darling, my mind is not in the right place for an actual conversation right now.” His hand trailed over her bare side and his eyes were looking at everything but her face, proving that he really wasn’t in the right mental place for a conversation like this, but she tried again anyway. 

“Okay, but do you?” He sighed, reluctantly dragging his gaze up to meet hers. 

“I suppose I’ve never really thought about it before.” He paused, shifting his weight to get comfortable. His legs knocked against hers and his hand hadn’t stopped tracing the skin of her body, and he had never taken off the ring he always wore. It had been a pleasant chill against her earlier when she thought she was going to combust from his touch. “I think because of the company I wouldn’t take a break. And I’d have a lot of guilt about leaving when there are people who might be in danger and I could have helped them.”

“But if you could drive away, would you? None of the guilt, or people getting hurt. Just… going off on your own for a bit.”

“I don’t know about alone. I think I would want you with me, darling.” He punctuated his statement by lowering his voice and pulling her closer by her hips, flush against his body, and although she was tired she couldn’t help but feel warm again. 

“I’d be happy to drive away with you, Ant. Anywhere you go, I’m going too.”

“You mean it?” he breathed, eyes looking almost golden in the glow of his bedside lamp. He looked desperate for her answer, like he needed to know that she would truly always be with him because he couldn’t stand being left alone again. 

“Of course I mean it, Ant. I want it all with you; everything. The complications and fights and of course all the good things too. The horrible Mondays where we get clients who don’t realise that what we do is a full-time job and we don’t really get weekends, the times we do get days off, and we can just be… together.” She ran her fingertips over his arms, marvelling at the hidden muscles she felt. Given how skinny and beanpole-like he appeared, the first time she had realised how toned he was she had been pleasantly surprised. It made sense, she supposed, since he was incredibly proficient with a rapier and had been from a young age, and being that good meant he had to at least be somewhat physically fit and capable (he was very physically capable in other ways, too, something else she had learned early on). She didn’t think she would ever get over how much she loved his arms, or his hands, or how they looked when he rolled his dress shirt sleeves up and folded his arms against his chest, and from the look he was giving her right now he apparently knew that she felt that way. 

“You alright, darling?” Good lord, had his voice gone even lower? His eyes had gone from being a honey-golden to a dark syrupy brown, and if what she could feel against her lower half was any indication she could tell that his mind was back to being somewhere other than their conversation. She sounded out of breath when she spoke. 

“I’m alright. Do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Wrap me in your arms?”

“Absolutely.”

She definitely shouldn’t have this much of an obsession with his arms, but the moment his arms tightened around her torso and her thigh, bringing her on top of him fully while he sat up with her in his lap and kissed her deeply, she couldn’t find it in her to care. 

~~~

On their one-year anniversary, Y/n woke up early. 

She didn’t want to, but the moon was shining brightly through the bedroom window, and there was a gap in the curtains that let the light through. It was landing on the books that had been stacked up on the bedside table, titles just about visible and all of them ones that she had read before. The moonlight was also resting on Anthony’s face while he slept, and he looked like he had in the taxi on that night when they had first met, ethereal and effortlessly gorgeous (but not quite so tired and weighed down by responsibility), and she found herself falling in love with him all over again. 

It was probably all forms of creepy to just lie and watch him breathe while she tried to go back to sleep, but there was something oddly soothing about it: the rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful expression on his face. It was rare she got to see him so relaxed, the only other times were when he had a day off and was sat in the library with a cup of tea, Y/n sat nearby, or when they had spent time exploring each others’ bodies, hands roaming over skin and through hair while they made love. 

The paper ring that he had made her just over a year ago, not long before they started officially dating, was sat on the bedside table next to the stack of books. He’d made her new ones at random points throughout their time together, but the original one that he’d folded from that piece of paper in the Fittes public library had remained in pride of place in her jewellery dish in their now shared bedroom at 35 Portland Row. 

Looking at it now she was absolutely certain that he was the one that she wanted, taking him in marriage with a paper ring, putting their pictures in frames to decorate their home, and he was the one she wanted in all of her daydreams. 

Anthony Lockwood was her future, and her future was looking wonderfully bright. 

lockwood tag list: @anathemaloren, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss (hopefully you get this notification, ik it's been weird recently), @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining (hopefully this works for you too my lovely), @karensirkobabes, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @no-morning-glories, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @zoom1374, @light-23, @ahead-fullofdreams

and then I'm tagging @neewtmas, @oblivious-idiot, @bobbys-not-that-small, @maraschinomerry, @uku-lelevillain, and @lewkwoodnco because I've been promising you this for a while and you just didn't know it :D

if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here! I am aware that it has been a while, but from now on I will be checking this post every time I write a new fic to see who is there, so head on over to give a comment or a like and I'll pop you on for next time! <3

[aswefindourwayback]

Sold to one direction 2013 (BAU's version)

Author's note: This is a literal joke and for fun and nostalgia. Also yes I know hazel eyes aren't completely green or anything but I've got limited emojis lol.

WC: 569

No warnings! Hope you guys enjoy!

You had just gotten home from a day at uni. 

You went to your room, covered in posters by bands like the smiths and radiohead. You weren’t like the other girls who had Taylor Swift and Harry Styles posters on their walls. You were… different. You were weird and quirky, so no one ever paid you any mind. 

You took off your beat up converse and put your hair in a messy bun. You looked in the mirror and analyzed the outfit you were wearing: a nirvana shirt, shorts, black knee high socks and a plaid flannel around your waist. 

All of a sudden your mom opened your door. “Mom, privacy? Knock next time.” 

“Oh you won’t have to worry about that. Pack your things.”

“What? Why? Are we moving?”

“I’m not. You are. We’ve sold you to pay for our trip to Bora Bora.”

With that, she walked out the door of your bedroom. 

Welp, you guess you have to start packing. 

After about an hour, you had all your things packed into 2 suitcases. You didn’t have much since you didn’t wear makeup and wore less girly clothes, unlike the other girls. 

You carried your stuff downstairs where you bumped into a tall, kind of broad build. You look up and are met with honey brown eyes. 

“Aaron Hotchner. Hotch. Is this all your stuff?”

“Y-yeah..” was all you were able to say. 

As this “Hotch” took your bags out to the car, you looked at your mom. 

“Bye Sweetie!” was all she said as she waved you goodbye with a smile plastered on her face. 

You walked out to the car and saw Hotch holding the car door open for you. 

“Prepare yourself to meet everyone.”

Everyone? Who’s everyone? What the hell is going on?

After a few hours of driving, you guys finally arrived at your destination which was…. An FBI building?!

“Woah mister, idk what kind of game this is but I haven’t done ANYTHING wrong. Okay I lied, one time I stole a pen from Jessica Anderson but that was because I really liked that pen and she stole my boyfriend but THAT’S IT. Oh my god I can’t believe I’ve already lied to the FBI. I SWEAR IM INNOCENT AND NONVIOLENT SIR IM SORRY.” you scream as you bury your face into your hands. 

“Are you done screaming?” says Hotch.

“Yup” you say, still hiding your face. 

“You’re not in trouble or anything.” You sit up straight and look at him, “I’m not?”

“No, this is where the team and I work. Come on, let’s go in.” The team?! What in the butt fuckery???

You guys walk into the building, towards the elevator and go up a few floors. 

When the doors open again, there’s another fucking glass door.

How many doors are there? Damn. 

“Most of the team are out at lunch but this…” he says walking towards a scrawny looking boy, not too far from your age, “is Dr. Spencer Reid. I think you two will get along well.”

Spencer begins to stand from his chair. 

He’s so tall he’s towering over you. It also doesn’t help that you are small and petite and fragile. 

His hazel orbs 🟢👄🟢 are staring into your soul. 

“Hi” he says giving you a smirk.😏 

“Hi” you say back.

Maybe getting sold by your family isn’t going to be so bad at all. 

[little-x-wolf]

| cardigan — the salvatores x reader |

there was a superstition that if you kissed your soulmate in the maze, you'd be bonded for life.

warnings: angst, guiseppe is a terrible father, a barrel full of tears, mentions of violence, lil bit of katherine slander!

merry christmas everyone!

“Vintage tee, brand new phone

High heels on cobblestones

When you are young, they assume you know nothing”

You remember those days like yesterday. The three of you laying underneath the old willow, basking in the warmth of the Virginian sun at the Veritas. Some days you played hide and seek amidst the Salvatore maze. You'd place a peck on both of their cheeks for good luck. There was a superstition that if you kissed your soulmate in the maze, you'd be bonded for life. 

They kept telling you — the elders — that one day life was going to overtake your friendship. Soulmates would turn to friends, friends to acquaintances and one day, Salvatore would be a name you used to know. The three musketeers would exist in just memories, to never meet again. But those were just farces, right? 

You knew your bond was unbreakable.

“Sequin smile, black lipstick

Sensual politics

When you are young, they assume you know nothing”

Lily Salvatore died in 1858. Their fathers' beatings had become frequent to the point they couldn't even hide it from you. An occasional pat on the back would have Damon hissing. He seldom lied to Giuseppe to save Stefan from trouble. You would patch him up at night, listening the best you could. 

The nightmares in the deep pits of his mind had come to fruition. His mother was dead; His brother hiding in the closet from his drunkard of a father. Sometimes, their maid, Betsy would hum his mother's lullaby to help him sleep. Before long, Giuseppe had her released of her duties. You took over the role, your fingers caressing his raven locks — you helped him sleep. 

“But I knew you, Dancin' in your Levi's

Drunk under a streetlight, I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt

Baby, kiss it better, I

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite”

Damon was sent to fight for the confederacy. Stefan was to be engaged to Rosalyn Cartwright, and you were to be married off to a wealthy Englishman. Your little games had stopped for a while now, but the older Salvatore wrote whenever he could. You'd write back, of course, waiting eagerly for his return. You feared he'd come too late; You'd be gone in a month or two.

Stefan would sneak you out sometimes, take you riding on Mezzanotte, his favourite horse. One time, he stole a bottle of rum from his father's collection to accompany the two of you on your getaway. He watched as you guzzled it down greedily, slurred disappointments tumbling from your lips in no time. Lord, you wished you'd never grown up. And when you started to sob, he held you tightly against his chest, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

He wished it too. He wished it too.

A friend to all is a friend to none

Chase two girls, lose the one

When you are young, they assume you know nothin'

Then one day, a storm racked through your garden. One damsel by the name of Katherine Pierce, swiping them off their feet, boys who once had been yours. Rosalyn Cartwright was found mauled by an animal underneath the old willow, wide eyes staring upwards. They held a secret that couldn't be whispered anymore.

Her body was barely in the ground when you found Stefan emerging from the damsel's chambers. You were disappointed; He didn't care. Fights between the Salvatores had become frequent. They had become thirsty for the others blood, constantly fighting over her affections. Your despised the girl, maintaing as much distance from her as possible. They were well aware. Soon, they stopped bringing her up in your presence and eventually, visits to your house became scarce.

Stefan accompanied Katherine to the ball; Damon took you (because Katherine had chosen his brother). You smelt the whiskey on his breath, pushing him away when he kissed you in the darkness of your room. You were no rebound. You were no second choice. It stung your heart to think he thought otherwise. If you could have been, though, life would've turned out differently.

“But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

'Cause I knew everything when I was young”

The Salvatores were dead. Giuseppe had a statement released saying that they died while trying to capture vampires. But you knew better. At last, you knew the secret Rosalyn was trying to tell you. Katherine was a vampire and they died trying to save her. 

You couldn't even remember the last time the three of you spoke. You weren't even allowed to be there when they were buried. You couldn't peck their cheeks or sing them a lullaby. And when you broke down finally, it was in the isolation of your room. Giuseppe died shortly afterwards and the house burnt down. You left for London, visiting the manor sometimes with your husband whenever you were around. 

You'd sit underneath the spot where the old willow used to be and think of them. Your boys. The lake dried up with and so did your tears. Your children would ask about the Veritas and you'd realize, when all your words were littered with past tenses, that Salvatore was a name you used to know. 

“I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Chasin' shadows in the grocery line

I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired

And you'd be standin' in my front porch light”

Sometimes, on a particularly despondent day, you could see them in the dark alleyways, tiptoeing out of your memories and onto the corner of your eyes. In grocery lines, the cinemas, you swore you saw them on your porch in London once. And oh, you'd curse them. The sadness had turned into fury over the years and white hot it was. They didn't even care to say goodbye. Why should you spend the rest of your life thinking about them then? 

They chose to let you go. You didn't.

“And I knew you'd come back to me

You'd come back to me

And you'd come back to me

And you'd come back”

Your husband succumbed to the flu a few years later and in 1917, you decided to move your family back to Mystic Falls. One day, someone showed up at your door, asking for directions to the Boarding House. It was Damon and Stefan. They had barely aged at all while you were a 70-something lady with wrinkles and a barely functioning eyesight.

"The most beautiful I've seen you," Stefan murmured as he clung onto you, concious of not hugging you too tightly. He didn't want to hurt you.

Damon couldn't meet your eyes for a few minutes. The last time he did was before he kissed you. The kiss had been devoid of every good thing he felt about you, reduced to the anger at his brother and desperation after getting rejected. He hadn't been able to forgive himself. 

It took you all a little time to settle into your new reality. You were happy to have them back in your life. You were a frail old lady now, there wasn't much you could do physically. But on slow days, you'd find yourself with a cup of tea in the parlour of your house, settled admist your two boys. You loved to hear about all their adventures—the good and the bad ones.

You kept Stefan from going off the rails.

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite”

The Salvatores had a home till October 5, 1934, the last sunrise you'd ever see. Stefan clasped your head and Damon hummed you a lullaby, holding in the tears as you dozed off. The next time you met Stefan was about a century later and Damon followed soon.

And the three musketeers were reunited, never to part again.

[cc-tinslebee]

Gojo and Nanami's class years adopting orphaned teens as a canon event (the playlist)

a playlist inspired by Gojo & Megumi, Nanami & Yuji, Geto & Nanako/Mimiko, and my own au of Shoko & Junpei (they are NOT beating the adoption allegations)

listen on spotify!

Mama's Boy - Dominic Fike half of my heart is in your chest, I’m not a mama’s boy

Mama - My Chemical Romance mama, we’re meant for the flies / and right now, they’re building a coffin your size

Taking What's Not Yours - TV Girl you know where to find me / and I know where to look

Reflections - The Neighbourhood I see my reflection in your eyes (I sold my soul for you, I know you see it too)

Devil’s Advocate - The Neighbourhood I’m the devil’s advocate / you don’t know the half of it / good luck tryna manage it / if a god is a dog and a man is a fraud, then I’m a lost cause

I Bet On Losing Dogs - Mitski I know they’re losing and I’ll pay for my place by the ring / where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down

everything i wanted - Billie Eilish as long as I’m here, no one can hurt you / don’t wanna lie here, but you can learn to

This Night Has Opened My Eyes - The Smiths a shoeless child on a swing / reminds you of your own again / she took away your troubles / oh, but then again she left pain

New Person, Same Mistakes - Tame Impala feel like a brand new person (but you’ll make the same old mistakes)

The Archer - Taylor Swift screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? / and who could stay? / you could stay

If We Have Each Other - Alec Benjamin if we have each other, then we’ll both be fine / I will be your mother, and I’ll hold your hand / you should know I’ll be there for you

Beautiful Boy - John Lennon the monster’s gone / he’s on the run and your daddy’s here

1985 - Bo Burnham my dad was happier than I am / if I could be anyone, dead or alive / I would wanna be my dad in 1985

The Future - Bo Burnham is it gonna end? (Yeah) / When? (Never) / It’s just another day of hanging with my daughter / and I’m living in the future

United in Grief - Kendrick Lamar I hope you find some peace of mind in this lifetime (tell them, tell them the truth)

Daddy Issues - The Neighbourhood go ahead and cry, little boy / you know that your daddy did too / you know what your mama went through

Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray there’s things I wanna talk about / but better not to give / but if you hold me without hurting me / you’ll be the first who ever did

Euphoria - Kendrick Lamar y’all think all my life is rap? / that’s hoe shit, I got a son to raise, but I can see you don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that

She Knows - J. Cole, Cults, Amber Coffman bad things happen to the people you love / and you find yourself praying up to heaven above / but honestly I’ve never had much sympathy / ‘cause those bad things, I always saw them coming for me

I Hear a Symphony - Cody Fry I used to hear a simple song / that was until you came along / now in its place is something new / I hear it when I look at you

Duvet - bôa I am hurting / I have lost it all

[cruel-summerxy]

renegade - billy the kid x reader

summary ➞ Your brother Jesse is back in town and he brings a friend with him. You know he’s bad news but you can’t help but to be drawn to him. word count: 2.2k words.

a/n ➞ will anyone read this? Probably not but I’m going crazy for tom blyth rn. I’m for sure gonna do more parts, kinda miss writing. oh and this is based on renegade by big red machine and ms taylor allison swift. anywho, hope y’all enjoy.

It was a quiet and cold day when you first met Billy. You had been trying your darndest to stay away from your brother and his gang but word had gotten back to you that he was back in town. You had done your best to not go into town, avoiding Jesse would be the best option.

A tap on your window causes you to reach for your gun. Ever since your Papa had died and Jesse had left it had been up to you to protect your home.

“Who’s there?” you shout, not daring to look out the window.

“My name is Billy. I’m a friend of Jesse!” a voice beams. You scrunch your eyebrows and decide to look out. Your eyes are met with a tall man— kid. He couldn’t be older than 20. A part of you knows that anyone associated with your brother was bad news but when you see him in front of your house your heart skips a beat. His blue eyes almost make you lose focus.

“And?” you ask annoyed, your hand gripping your firearm.

“You’re his sister, right?” Billy questions and looks through the window, catching you off guard. You point

your gun at him and he takes a step back.

“Woah I’m not here to hurt ya,” he raises his hands in surrender, “Jesse sent me here. He said you’d help.”

You mentally curse Jesse out and open the door carefully. Billy takes another step back and watches you intently, his hands still up.

“And why would I do that?” you raise an eyebrow, “I don’t know you.”

“Cause you’re nice,” Jesse shouts from the corner of the house.

Your eyes widen when you see Jesse with a red head next to him. You pivot your heels towards the door hoping that he won’t catch up.

“Come on, I know you see me,” your brother bellows and runs behind you. You lock the door and lean against it. To say you loathe him is an understatement.. You let out a sigh and contemplate if ignoring him would do any good. Right when you are about to walk away you feel his arm come over your shoulder. You groan as you realize the back door wasn’t locked.

“Well that’s not very nice to do to your older brother, sweetheart,” Jesse lectures you as you both walk to the dining room, his men close behind. Billy gives you a sorry smile and leans against the counter. You hold back an eye roll and pick up an apple, pretending to inspect it.

“What do you want Jesse? Tired of stealing and running away yet?” you mutter avoiding his gaze. He laughs at your words and shakes his head. Ever since you had been little Jesse attracted chaos and destruction.

“Something like that. Listen me and the boys need a place to crash for a while,” Jesse explains and points at the two men behind him. “This is Billy and Beckwith.” Your eyes inspected the men in front of you— a blush covering your face as you saw Billy again. Your face quickly changed when your worried mind spun with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you debate.

“Come on sweetheart,” Jesse nags, “we’re tired and hungry. We won’t cause any trouble, you have my word.”

“Mama won’t like it… she doesn’t want to see your face around here,” you remind him, hoping that he’ll forget the whole thing.

“Mama doesn’t know who you are. I doubt she’ll even recognize me,” Jesse counters. You sigh and lean against the counter, your arms crossed. Billy remains quiet and straightens up next to you. You think of Jesse's words and groan. He had a point, your mother’s condition had been going downhill, her often forgetting to even eat.

“I don’t want your men stealing from Mama,” you state, “no bringing women and no late night shootings.”

Your brother nods and a smirk appears on his face, “told ya’, boys. Come on, let me show you my father’s whiskey collection.”

Billy hesitates, but follows the blonde man.

.

You felt a headache coming and you went back to your plants. Jesse had only been back for a few hours and your body was already stressing out. You caught a glimpse of Billy once again, your shaky hands causing you to drop the task at hand.

“Need anything?” you ask and walk up to him. You squint, trying to cover the sunset.

“Jesse made me come out here,” Billy coughed awkwardly, “he’s wondering if you can make us some food.”

“Of course he is.” you groan. You sigh and clean your dirt covered hands on your dress. You look up at Billy and scan his face for a moment, his blue eyes doing the same. “When was the last time you all had a proper meal?”

“It’s been weeks,” he says truthfully and follows you back into the house. “been catching some meat here and there but we’ve mostly been eating berries.”

“Jesus,” you mutter and try to turn on a fire. You feel Billy’s eyes on you, your breath becoming uneven now.

“Here let me help,” Billy says and turns on a fire easily. You give him a once over and put on a pot. You wash your hands, Billy watches your every move and hands you a drying rag.

“I’m sorry for disturbing your peace. Jesse insisted on us coming here. He said you’d take us in,” Billy spoke sincerely.

“Why are y’all running?” you question him. Billy’s eyes darken as he recalls why Jesse and the other man had to hide.

“Stole some cattle and then accidentally killed someone.”

You stop what you’re doing and look at him. He stares back, not moving an inch. You search for a teasing smile or a glint of joking but find none. “How do you accidentally kill someone?”

He ignores your question and looks down at the apple you had been inspecting earlier.

“You can eat it. I’m tired of ‘em. Mama’s the only one who eats them,” you say and soften your face. He shakes his head in embarrassment but you roll it his way. “It’ll go bad. We’ve got more in the back.”

He reluctantly takes a bite and thanks you. You smile at him and you wash some vegetables. His eyes follow you and do your best to ignore him. He wasn’t making you uncomfortable per se, but it had been a while since a man had been in your home.

“Can you let Jesse know I’m cooking something?”

Billy nods and walks back to his friend. You can hear them in the other room, Jesse being the loudest. After a few minutes you hear Jesse’s laugh and then hear him speak once again.

“She’ll get over it, it was like five years ago.” Jesse told them and your heart sank. Anger flooded your body as you realized what he was talking about. You began chopping the vegetables with more force.

“Stupid Jesse and his stupid little friends,” you whisper to yourself. This had been why you didn’t want him in your home again. Jesse had the tendency to come into your life and cause old wounds to reopen.

..

“Dinners ready,” you shout and serve yourself a plate. You hear the boys come in and take a bite, ignoring them.

“Woah didn’t even serve us,” Jesse teases and serves himself. The two others follow suit and moan at the smell of your food.

“Y’all got hands,” you point out, this getting a laugh out of Billy. You smile at his reaction but cover it when Jesse sits next to you.

“That’s not very nice sweetheart,” Jesse replies and tries

the food on his plate. He whines at the taste of your food but you're too occupied with Billy, him sitting across from you. He wasn’t bad looking at all. His dark hair and blue eyes mesmerized you, making you lose your train of thought. Jesse calls out your name.

“What?” you knit your eyebrows at his voice.

“Said if this is Mama’s recipe,” Jesse repeated with a full mouth. You cringe at his actions and shake your head.

“It’s my own.”

“It’s delicious,” Billy compliments and takes another bite. You smile at him and try to keep yourself from getting red in the face. You look at his shape and frown, his body jagged and weak. The warm meal probably settled into his stomach quickly.

“Thank you Billy,” you smile at him and look at your brother and his other friend, “y’all like it?”

Beckwith nods and continues eating. You suppress a laugh and look at Jesse, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s alright,” Jesse teases while sipping on his beer, his eyes landing on your own “since when do you drink?”

You ignore him and look up at Billy who had been staring at you already. You cross my arms and observe him, “why are you drinking? Aren’t you too young, Billy?”

Billy smiles, amused at your curiosity, “I’m not that young.”

“He actually is,” Jesse mumbles between bites, “but after a long day one needs a nice beer.”

“One might argue that you need a bath as well,” you reply. Billy chuckles under his breath and continues eating. A hint of achievement covers your tummy. “But I am serious. I’ll bring some water for you all, you really do need to clean up.”

Jesse rolls his eyes but it goes unnoticed by you. You’re too caught up on Billy to look at your brother. Your eyes land on the dark circles under his eyes. It hadn’t occurred to you that the group of them might want to lay down and rest. You wipe your mouth and look at Jesse, his body filled with exhaustion as well.

You clear your voice and look back at all of them , “the baths can wait. I can set up your rooms if you wish. You must be tired.”

They nod and you stand up. You walk through the hallway feeling someone following you. You turn and are met with Billy’s tall and hard figure.

“Shit, sorry. I was just trying to help, didn’t mean to hurt ya,” Billy apologized. You looked up at him and he smiled, it not quite reaching his eyes.

“It’s alright, you must be drained out. You like sleeping with a lot of blankets?” you ask as you gather them from the closet. He sheeply nods and you gather more in your arms. Billy follows you, keeping a distance.

“This is my room,” you say pointing, “that one is Mama’s. This one is Jesse’s. You’ll have to sadly share with Beckwith.”

“That’s alright. It’s better than sleeping in a tent, darlin.”

“I suppose,” you reply and your eyes gleam at his words. You quickly open his door and show him where he’ll be sleeping. “It’s not big but you’ll each have a bed.”

He nod appreciatively and takes the blankets off your hands, “thank you for taking us in. I know you and Jesse don’t get along.”

You shrug and close the window in the room. In a swift motion you turn on a candle, carefully avoiding your fingers. “He's a pain in my ass but he’s still my brother.”

Billy smiles and leans against the wall. “Trust me, I know.” His eyes drooped, his fatigue becoming even more evident.

“Well you should sleep Billy,” you whisper and he agrees with you.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, matching your tone.

…

The next few days you steer clear from Billy and Jesse. The group of men spend their time resting or drinking. You engulf yourself with your mother and your fields of corn.

One morning Billy finds you working in the fields.

“Do you not rest?” he shouts, catching you off guard. You look up, wiping your forehead. You lean against your shovel, “I do, just like starting my day early. How’d you sleep?”

“Best sleep I’ve had,” Billy confesses and walks up to you. His steps grow louder as the gap between you two closes. He’s wearing the same clothes for days now but you say nothing. He reaches you and takes the shovel from you, copying your previous movements. You take a step back and let him help.

“That’s good to hear…” you say and stare at him. You couldn’t wrap your mind about someone as young as him running in Jesse’s circle.

“What?” he laughs at the look on your face, his own cheeks turning red.

“Why are you with Jesse and his men? You’re far too young,” you speak your mind.

“Told you, I killed a man,” he huffs as he digs a hole. You freeze at his voice.

“Hold on, you killed someone?” you say and silence settles over you both. “I thought Jesse or Beckwith had killed someone and that’s why you were running,”

“It was an accident,” Billy reminds you softly, using the same words from the first day.

You tilt your head, not sure if you should believe him. “How do you accidentally kill someone?” Not once does he stop digging, you can see his demeanor changing. Perhaps you had pushed too much.

“What? You scared of me now, darling?” he laughs at the look your eyes held. The noise coming from him almost scared you — almost.

“Oh I’m not frightened, I’ve seen Jesse take someone’s life. Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.”

He laughs at your words and continues digging up. You remain in your position.

“No really, I can.”