#A LITTLE LATER THAN PROMISED BUT SHE IS HERE

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere! Child x Monster!Reader)

Chapter 0: The Body I Stole

(CW: death, femme bodied gender neutral reader, child abuse) very short prologue for a story idea I had

There was a muffled sound of a woman struggling quietly as she chased the terrified gasps of a child running for his life. A small boy, maybe five years old, covered in scrapes and bruises new and old, was fleeing his mother as she limped after him.

Avery had caused the accident.

Her eyes were cold and sharp, glaring at the road ahead of her as they drove down the curvey mountain. It wasn't his fault, the scene at the birthday party, but his mother didn't believe it. She never did. The fear of being "disciplined" was something Avery never really shook, in fact, it was something he learned to expect..

He didn't know why he did it. But a surge of adrenaline electrocuted his fingertips, and launched his little arms towards her and the steering wheel. The family car swerved towards the trees, rolling twice before smashing into a tree.

The mother was practically dragging her shattered ankle through the weeds as she tried to catch her kid.

"AVERY! COME BACK HERE RIGHT! NOW!" Her voice tore through the woods. The venomous words that promised pain was heard by more than just Avery, however.

They didn't know what the situation was, nor did they care.. All (Reader) could think about was their hunger.

A twig snapping made the woman stop, believing she had found her child. The scowl on her beautiful features deepened, making the woman look more like a monster than the creature who had just woken up.

"Avery. If you come out right now I won't be mad. I promise."

Even to a monster that had been sleeping for the past hundred or so years, her lies were obvious. (Reader) listened to the little one covering his mouth a few feet away, and guessed that he was the Avery this woman was speaking to. But unfortunately for her, Avery was hiding in the opposite direction.

She couldn't even fake a smile as she hobbled over towards where the monster hid, stretching out their creaky joints.

As she passed the thick trees to where she heard the snapping branches, a small look of hateful triumph was shattered as she found something else standing where she assumed her son would be. The eight foot tall creature with grey skin smiled down at the human. Their body smelled of dirt and moss, but looked like a mummified corpse stretched out. Black hair fell around their shoulders, almost covering their six, blood red eyes, focusing on the trembling prey before them.

Her beautifully painted lips weren't given a chance to scream before the creature opened it's jagged toothed maw, and bit her pretty little head in half.

(Reader's) strong jaw crushed the woman's skull easily, splashing her soft innards down their throat and across their naked chest. It had been so long since they ate that they forgot to take the basic feeding steps.

What was her height? Her hair color? Her chest size? They forgot to care. It wasn't until the only thing left of her body was her left leg.

"Ah.. I made a mistake." (Reader) mumbled to themselves as they tried to recall what their meal's appearance was. If they hadn't been starving, they would have morphed into their new persona before eating them.

They did their best in replicating the woman.

Their spine snapped loudly as they shrunk, hair and skin rapidly changing in color and texture, until they were the woman as they somewhat recalled her to be. 'I'll just find a better suit later..'

Not even the woman's clothes remained in the bloody aftermath. (Reader) sighed as they shook her leg. 'My starvation made me sloppy.' They finished off the last leg of their meal, before turning and surprising themselves with the appearance of a small boy with black hair watching them. (Reader's) new eyes widened, having been so focused on their food that they hadn't noticed him sneaking up on them.

As they contemplated killing and taking the young boy's form, he surprised them again, rushing forward suddenly and wrapping his thin arms around (Reader's) naked flesh.

A/N: I know it's short, but I had an idea for a multiple chapter story, with a clingy adoptive son ❤️ needed to get the OG mother out of the way before the story, because even though this is what I want to happen in the story, it doesn't fit the way I want the first chapter to start haha

#yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere family #prologue #monster reader #gn reader #afab reader #kinda not really #cw blood #cw death

[ghostofhyuck]

Gang AU Series 6

Gang leader! Zhong Chenle x Gang member’s younger sister! Reader

Summary: "Why can't you resent me?"

cw: mentions of death, and blood. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Yn Lee.” 

You turned around and saw him. You freezed, hands tight on the hem of your apron. You knew him and how you two are the same-age. But the way he’s all roughed-up with his leather jacket in contrast to your plain sweater and apron, shows how your lives are different from each other. 

“You know me,” you mumbled. 

“You’re Mark Lee’s only sister,” he answered. “I’m Zhong Chenle.” 

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to look calm, knowing that you two are in a public place. 

“Can I have a spare of your time?” he asked. “I need to talk to you about your brother.” 

You only pursed your lips, it’s been a week since your brother’s burial and as much as you want to cope with his death, the ghost of his past keeps on haunting you. 

And that ghost is none other than Zhong Chenle. 

“Is it important?” you asked, looking around the place. “It’s a busy hour for us —”

“Don’t worry about it yn,” your manager interrupted. “He already asked for my permission, go on.” 

That’s how you found yourself at a table in front of Zhong Chenle. You watched as he took a sip of the iced coffee that he ordered, glancing at the window beside as if he’s admiring the view of the outside. 

“Before Mark-hyung died, he asked if we could look after you,” Chenle started. “And I promised him that. That’s why I’m telling you this right now, moved in with —”

“What are you talking about!?” you asked, confused. 

“Mark-hyung wanted you to leave that shitty place of your aunts’ house,” he explained. “He’s much more comfortable if you stay with us.”

“And how can I be so sure that you’re not fooling me?” 

Chenle became quiet. A scene played in his mind. 

Blood. Lots of blood. Lots of Mark’s blood. Mark smiles at him, who's crying hopelessly, trying to keep his friend alive by holding him tightly. Mark continued to talk, stuttering at his own words in an attempt to make out of your name. 

“Get her out of that place, please…” Mark whispers at Chenle, who could only nod. And as if it was the answer that he needs, Mark closes his eyes slowly. 

“It’s a promise before he joined the gang,” Chenle lied. “We look for each other’s family, especially when someone dies.” 

You stared at him. He seems more distant than what you assumed, as if he was hiding something from you. But you tried to look on the other side. He wants you to leave your aunts’ place. Something that you and your brother have been dying to do. 

It was the reason why your brother even joined the gang. Both of you were orphaned at a young age. Your parents died due to a car accident, leaving you two under the care of your aunt and her husband. 

It was a living hell. They would tell you everyday that both you siblings should be grateful that she took you in or else you two will end up in an orphanage. She treats you like a maid and for years, you and your brother endured it. They were greedy for money too, they couldn’t even spare money on you two, saying that you two should be grateful that you have a place to live. At a young age, you are forced to find part-time jobs so that you have money for yourself. 

So did Mark. When your brother turned nineteen, he ended up joining a gang. It was dangerous, but it gave him a huge sum of money enough to buy both your needs. But in return, he would go home wounded and blooded. You hold your tears, as you mend your brother’s wounds. Trying to convince him to stop it and just live a normal life. 

“Soon, just a little bit more, we’ll get there. We can now move out of this shitty place and have a place of our own, you can study at one of the best universities here in Korea without worrying about the expenses.” he told you, smiling. You have your lips tight, trying your best to trust your brother.

But a few weeks later, Mark died. Your world crumbled when you received the news that your brother died in a gang fight. It was said that he was just an innocent passerby who happened to witness the illegal activities, that’s why he got involved. But you knew that he wasn’t as innocent as they tried to paint him. Whoever decided to change the statement, must be trying to protect Mark too. 

And you wonder if it was Chenle’s doings. You glanced at him, and he was nothing but staring at you. You let out a sigh. 

“How can I be sure that I should trust you?” you asked.

“Don’t trust me,” Chenle answered quickly. “I’m just fulfilling what Mark-hyung wanted. It’s just a temporary stay, soon, you can stay at the apartment flat Mark wanted to buy.” 

“Okay,” you let out a sigh. “I’ll come with you.” 

It was a risk. But it was better than staying in your aunts’ place. You knew the gang your brother joined. Mark keeps talking about them whenever you mend his wounds. He seems to love his gang, even considering them as friends. If Mark trusts them enough to look after you, then you’re convinced that there’s nothing for you to worry about. 

“Alright,” Chenle muttered. “Here’s my phone number, just contact me when we pick you up.” He leaves a card in front of you, and before you could mutter a word, he bids his goodbye to you and leaves. 

You stared at the paper. There’s not much to see except his name and number. That’s how discreet Chenle was, and now, you were even more curious about the gang your brother joined. 

-

As expected, your aunt was more happy for you to leave their place. She didn’t have an ounce of care about you and kept on insisting that it was time for you to be mature and live on your own. 

“Maybe even try to follow your brother’s footsteps, how about that?” she taunted. You froze for a second, but as much as you wanted to stop and slap the hell out of her, you couldn’t do anything but to continue packing your things. You tried to brush it off. At least you’re leaving the place. You’re free now and you’re on your own now. 

It took a while before Chenle arrived. A slick black car stops in front of you and from the driver’s seat, Chenle exits. He helped you load your things on the trunk, and even opened the passenger seat for you. You glanced at the apartment building, not noticing that Chenle had entered the car. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, you glanced at him and shook your head as answer. 

“Did your aunt say something?”

You became quiet, wondering how he was able to read your mind. 

“Mark-hyung talks about her all the time,” he answered, “That’s for another time, let’s go.” 

The drive to their place was quiet. You only stared at the view from the window. Chenle was a skilled driver, but he didn’t say a thing to you during the duration of the drive. You found it weird, he was far different from your brother’s stories. 

You knew them and their personality. You know that they’re just lost kids like your brother, trying to fight their way to survive the harsh world. The gang was small, but it’s enough. Chenle was their leader due to the fact that he founded and funded the gang, he did it in order to rebel against his parents. But slowly, Chenle realised that this is the family that he’s been yearning for. 

That’s why he was so protective of not only his members, but their member’s families too. 

Your thoughts started to trail off when you found Chenle turning right to a secluded road. It was down a narrow alley that seemed abandoned, barely visible from the highway you two just drove through. 

From the outskirts, you found yourself in a more hidden alley, filled with abandoned buildings and ruined roads. Chenle parks the car outside of a decent-looking building. And as you glanced at him, he only gave you a go signal to leave the car. 

“It looks abandoned but that’s the purpose of it,” Chenle commented. Grabbing your bag, not even letting you touch it. “Come on.” you only followed him quietly, entering the building. It was dimmed with lights, the walls weren't painted with any colours, and you felt its eerie presence as Chenle's footsteps echoed through the empty hallways. 

As you two reached the second floor, Chenle stopped in front of the only door in there. He types on the passcode and enters. “We’re here!” He shouts, and you only follow suit. 

You stepped backward when you were greeted by a bunch of boys — and girls. You were surprised, given that your brother didn’t mention any girls in the gang. 

“Like I told you, we protect each other’s families,” Chenle said. You only nod, as they introduce themselves one by one. Only a few of them are the member’s sisters, mostly their girlfriends. You gave them a warm smile, trying your best to be acquainted with them. 

“Jaemin-hyung, bring yn to her room, I’ve got to do something,” Chenle ordered, disrupting the talk. 

“Uhm, sure…where are you going?” Jaemin asked. 

“Meeting someone,” he said casually before leaving the place without any words to you. 

You stood there frozen, clueless as to what to do when Jaemin tapped your shoulder. 

“You’ll get used to it, that’s just how Chenle is,” the older one assured you. 

You tried to brush it off. That’s just Chenle’s personality. They say. It was weird given how your brother talks about him like a younger brother. 

“He may be younger than me but he’s smart, also calculated. But he still has a childish side of him. If you met him, you'd definitely like his smile.” 

Two weeks into your stay and you never saw Chenle smile. He seems reserved, as if he’s trying to hide something from you. You became curious, especially when the rest ignored it. Was your brother’s stories a lie? You wanted to approach him, and talk to him about your stay. You feel agitated, doing nothing and spending most of your time on your part-time job. But he seems busy, doing something, and completely shutting himself from the world. He couldn’t even look you in the eye.

You wonder if it was because of your brother, and yet, as much as you want to find the answer, you couldn’t find it especially when Chenle’s been avoiding you. 

It’s not like you want to leave the place, living with your brother’s former gang was much better than staying in your aunt's place. They were welcoming and still acted like a bunch of teenagers. They seem like a close-knitted family, and now you understand why your brother thinks highly about them. But of course, he mentioned that this is just a temporary stay, so you were also half-eager to not stay any longer. 

“We don’t know either,” Jeno answered when you opened up your concern. “It’s best for you to corner him.”

That was the only answer that you got. You only nodded and didn’t push them furthermore. Jeno noticed the way your expression faltered, he only smiles as he gently ruffles your hair. 

“He’ll be back here around two am, if you really want to talk to him.”

So you stayed up late. You’re used to it. Back then, you would wait for your brother’s return. It comforts you that he would go home late but alive. It assured you that he’s fine. 

Just like what Jeno had mentioned, it was almost two in the morning when the door opened. You stood up from your seat. You heard Chenle’s harsh breathing, as if he was struggling. You immediately went to him, surprising both of you. 

Your eyes widened to see him ruined. Open cuts and wounds in his face, blood-stained shirt and jacket, he was limping too. 

“Why are you still awake?” he asked, struggling to finish his sentence. 

“I was waiting for you,” you said, making him quiet. “You should sit, let me tend your wounds —“

“No thanks, I can manage —“

“Please,” you pleaded. “I do this to Mark too, I know what I am doing.” 

As if the magic word was your brother’s name that he agreed to. You helped him sit on the sofa, while you left to find the first aid kit found in the bathroom. Minutes later, you returned and began mending his wounds. You noticed how he’s looking sideways, not even batting an eye at you. 

“I was going to ask,” you started. “Until when can I stay here?” 

“Why?”

“I just don’t want to burden everyone,” you timidly said.

“You’re not a burden,” Chenle answers. 

“Really? Then why can’t you even look me in the eyes?” you asked. 

Chenle didn’t answer. He couldn’t help but remember Mark’s funeral — where you two first met. 

It was at a decent funeral parlour. The six of them went there together, and from the outside, Chenle noticed that there’s only a few visitors. You were Mark’s main mourner. Only sitting at the corner, holding the frame of your dead brother. Your head lay low, not even noticing their arrival. They all stood there quietly, trying to sink into their mind that Mark is dead. 

In the midst of the ceremony, Chenle’s eyes never left yours. He can see the resemblance of Mark to you, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

Yet he was intrigued at your calm demeanour. When it was time for them to bid goodbye, you personally sent them away, bowing at them as a sign of gratitude, and as you come face to face with Chenle, he couldn’t help but noticed the dead look in your eyes, and yet you seem to not shed a single tear for your brother. 

He doesn’t know what to feel about you. Intrigued? Curious? Guilty? All he knows is that he killed the only family member that you had. And as much as he tries to help you, he knows that he couldn’t do anything about Mark’s death. 

“Why can’t you resent me?” he asked. You stopped your tracks, looking at him. Chenle was devastated. He was wondering why you didn’t even try to push them away, scream or even call the police at them. 

But you only let out a small chuckle, “I don’t know, why would I?”

“I killed your brother,” he confessed. 

“You didn’t Chenle, I know the truth,” you told him. “You weren’t able to save him, that’s all.”

“See!? I was useless! How can you still mend my wounds after what I did!?”

You let out a sigh, “How can I resent the people who my brother considered as family?”

Silence. Chenle wasn’t able to say anything. You only gave him a bitter smile as you grabbed another alcohol pad and gently tapped it on his cheeks. That’s when he noticed how your eyes felt hollow, as if you’re dead inside. 

“My brother talks about you all the time, you’re like his younger brother,” you answered. “He thinks highly of you. He respects you, so how can I resent the person my brother loves?” 

“Why should I blame you for my brother’s death? When it was my fault that he joined the gang in the first place —“ and tears began to flow. Your hands drop as you hold onto the pad tightly. You couldn’t help but to sob, remembering that all your brother’s doing was for you.

All Mark wanted was for you to live a comfortable life, away from the shithole of your aunts’ house. And the only thing he can do as quickly as possible is join an underground gang. An easy access for money, but a risk. 

As much as you tried to stop him, it was useless. In the end, Mark was gone, and you don’t know if you can survive in this world alone. You felt helpless, that’s when you realised that you’ve also been dependent on Mark throughout your life. 

Your tears wouldn’t stop even when Chenle pulled you closer to his arms, you couldn’t help but cry louder. After weeks of being alone, this was the first time you found comfort.

“It’s not your fault,” Chenle muttered. “We never wanted this to happen,” he told you. 

And he was right. No one wants this, and the only thing that you two can do is assure each other. Both lost someone who’s very important to each other. Blaming and living with guilt was useless. 

Chenle thinks that it’s useless for him to let the guilt swallow him. He only lets out a deep sigh as he pulls you even closer to him. He was determined to never let you cry again. 

“I’m here, I’m not going to let you be alone again,” he swore to you.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct chenle #nct chenle fic #chenle fic #chenle imagines #zhong chenle #nct dream chenle fic #chenle x reader #nct dream chenle

[thefiery-phoenix]

yandere Gun Park x f!reader (how he would deal with some assholes trying to catcall his girl? and how he would comfort her??) 🤨 the situation might be like she called him to pick her up at late night after having a party at a club w/her friends? thank you!

THE BLOOD ON HIS HANDS (YANDERE JONGGUN PARK X READER)

You weren't one to head out for clubs but you decided to make an exception this one time since it was your friend's birthday and you couldn't miss out on it since it would be rude and you didn't have the heart to disappoint your friend on her special day but you also promised yourself that you wouldn't drink. You were dressed in a knee length maroon dress that hugged your curves and left your hair open as you grabbed your black purse and the gift for your friend and put on your heels and made your way down to the club for the party. Your friend let out an excited squeal as she spotted you and enveloped you in a hug and you placed the gift on the table nearby while you surveyed the scene around you, the strobe lights made your head throb slightly but you ignored the feeling and you felt yourself getting lost in your thoughts, trying to ignore the chatter around you and the hustle and bustle

You wouldn't say you had a bad time either, you had fun dancing with your friends and you couldn't help but feel bashful and flustered after you finished your karaoke song and everyone around you clapped and cheered for you. Your friend cut her birthday cake and after a few light hearted conversations with your other friends, you decided you had enough fun for one night and you could feel your social energy draining out as you bade your friends goodbye and you decided to leave. Little did you know, just like how good things must come to an end, a horrid end was about to ruin your perfect night unbeknownst to you

You've always found comfort and solace in the night time, you liked the way the cool breeze felt around your skin as you looked up at the inky dark night sky shimmering with stars and your mind could form images of various constellations you'd read about a while ago as you hummed softly to yourself and continued to walk. While you were walking, you halted a few moments later as you stared at the large yellow board in front of you with the words 'Construction in progress' as you groaned in dismay and you realized you had to take another route through the alleyways which was an option you weren't overly fond of since it meant you'd take longer to reach home. Besides, you were sure Gun wouldn't be too pleased if you were back home later than the time you both agreed on as you sighed and decided to just suck it up and deal with it and you started making your way to the alleyways

While you walked, you spotted a few alcohol bottles strewn across on the ground and a few cigarettes on the ground as well as you scrunched up your nose in distaste and walked faster, your heart beat racing after every step. Your eyes landed on the 4 men sitting on their bikes a distance away from you in the alleyway, their words a bit slurred and looking like they were drunk as you gulped nervously and put your head down, hoping that they wouldn't pick on you if you just minded your own business and went on your merry way. "Well boys, look what we have here, a fine piece of meat...damn she's hot'' hollered one of the guys as the other guys laughed in response at his words and you cringed at his words but didn't say anything and continued to walk faster till someone got in front of you and blocked your path. "Where are you going cutie, you don't wanna spend time with us and get to know us? I'm hurt you know...'' said the guy in front of you and laughed mockingly as he leaned closer to you. You flinched and recoiled backwards and tried to step towards the other side till he blocked your path again and played with a strand of your hair and sniffed it with a lecherous look in his eyes

"Please let me go'' you whispered as you backed away from him till someone grabbed your arms from the back and pushed his face closer to your neck. "You smell so good...and such a pretty voice...wonder how pretty you'd look when you're under us, screaming our names...I bet you'd like that wouldn't you given the way you're dressed...it's like you're practically asking for someone to spend the night with you'' whispered the man as he chuckled darkly and you felt tears prick your eyes at his words and bile rising to your throat. Your hands reached into your purse and you quickly dialed Gun's number hoping he'd answer the phone before another guy ripped your purse away from you and threw it on the ground away from your reach. "Let's have some fun with no distractions, yeah? No one's going to hear you scream...'' he spoke maliciously as his eyes glinted with dark desire for you and you struggled in vain against the man who was holding you captive in his arms and tears flowed down your face freely

You remembered seeing Gun fight multiple times and you tried to replicate one of his moves which ended up in one of the men slapping you hard across the face and he held your cheeks harshly and grabbed your hair which made you wince in pain. "I'll show you what happens to dumb little girls like you who think they're too good'' he hissed as his hand darted out to tear your dress off and you shut your eyes and whimpered till you heard the sound of the same man letting out a sharp grunt of pain. Your mind was filled with confusion as you opened your eyes to see the man who slapped you now on the ground grunting in pain and clutching at his now broken hand as a familiar guy wearing a black suit and black glasses blended into the darkness of the night as he emerged from the shadows looking irritated

"GUN!" you cried out in relief, your heart soaring with joy after seeing him as his eyes momentarily softened when his gaze landed on you but after the whimpers of the man beneath him got on his nerves, he calmly lit a cigarette and stomped on the guy's head and back and glared at the guys around you. Another guy tried to attack him and went in for a punch when Gun just let out a disinterested hum and grabbed his arm and twisted it as the man fell on the ground wincing in pain. Gun then kicked his shins and kicked his jaw which rendered the man unconscious. One of them tried to run away in fear when Gun grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall repeatedly over and over again till his head dripped with blood and he fell down unconscious. The fourth guy whimpered and pleaded for mercy as he fell down to his knees pathetically sobbing but Gun let out a noise of discontent and disgust as he grabbed him by his hair. "You bastards actually had the audacity to lay your hands on MY woman...I don't show mercy'' he replied coldly as he twisted his neck the other side and the guy fell down on the ground. At this point you were pretty sure he wasn't breathing and the others were probably dead or something as Gun, to add insult for injury stubbed out his cigarette on one of their foreheads and stomped on their hands for a good measure before he made his way to you and his hands gently brushed against your cheek to dry your tears

"Don't worry love...I'm here..'' he whispered as his expression softened to see your scared and vulnerable state and brushed a few strands of hair from your face and pulled you close to him. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around you and kissed your head gently. "How...how did you even find me, I thought the call didn't go through'' you said and looked at him as he smirked at you in amusement. "You really think I'd let my girl walk through these streets with no help? I'm always watching your every move, that's why I told you it's better if I just lock you in my house and throw away the key so you won't get into situations like this...although I'm tempted to do it now. I'm not leaving you...ever'' he spoke as his voice was laced with the usual possessiveness he had for you and his grip on your wrist became tighter

You tried to walk when you let out a wince of pain and your face morphed into a grimace as he realized you hurt your foot. He immediately lifted you bridal style in his arms and you let out a squeak of nervousness. "It's fine, I can walk, I don't want to burden you'' you mumbled as he gave you a sharp glare. "You're NOT a burden and never will be. Now stop your silly protesting, I'm carrying you whether you like it or not. Your foot is injured so don't give me that I'm fine nonsense'' he replied sharply as you could feel your cheeks tinge slightly with a blush and you hid your face with your hands which he found rather endearing and he chuckled softly as he pecked a kiss to your cheeks before he made his way back to his residence

You took a nice warm shower and he motioned for you to come to bed with him as you climbed on the bed with him and he wrapped his arms around you firmly and he kissed your head. "Thanks for saving me'' you mumbled and leaned closer to his warm embrace, that spread warmth through your heart and made you feel safe and protected. "Of course, it's nothing you should be thanking me about...'' he replied and stroked your hair. He watched you drift off to sleep, his heart weighing heavily to see the tired and pained expression on your face because of the ordeal you had to go through today as he held you close to him, keeping you safe and sheltered in his arms. He wouldn't hesitate to kill for you again, his only regret was giving those fools a quick and fast death instead of a slow and agonizing one. But the next time someone would ever dare to mess with you, he wouldn't hesitate to grant them a slow painful death, besides, what's more blood on his hands going to do when he's already killed so many in your name and for the sake of your love and safety?

#yandere jonggun park x reader #yandere jonggun park #yandere gun park x reader #yandere gun park imagines #yandere gun park oneshots #yandere gun park scenarios #yandere gun park headcanons #yandere lookism characters x reader #yandere lookism characters #yandere lookism x reader #yandere lookism #dark lookism characters x reader #dark lookism characters #dark lookism x reader #dark lookism #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons

[an0ther1]

Two Is Always Better Than One pt.2

Leah x Alessia

A/N: This is the “2nd” chapter of a 3 part short series I have on AO3. Thanks for all the dog name suggestions.

“LEE! LEAH! Swear I need to put a tracking device on you in this house.” Leah could hear from down the hall.

“In the study, love.” Leah was setting up their football photos throughout the room. They had been in the house for 3 weeks now. They had some custom built-ins made for the study and painted a few rooms before all their furniture and personal items were moved in. They still had a few things to unpack.

“That Martha woman got back to me!” Alessia started before she crossed the threshold. When she entered the room and saw the confusion on Leah’s face she continued. “The lady with the foster puppies the shelter told us about. Remember, the shelter we went to on Tuesday told us about those puppies that had been found by the pond in London Colney, they nicknamed them the Gooners.”

“OH YEAH!”

“Want to go meet them?”

“Right now?” Leah was still on the step ladder trying to hang an enlarged print of Alessia’s back heel goal against Sweden.

“YES! Before someone else takes the puppy that is meant to be with us!” Alessia smacked her hands against her thighs like a child that was utterly frustrated with having to explain themselves. However this was the first time they had talked about this litter of foster puppies aside from the initial mention of them at the shelter. “You promised me I could have a dog.” Alessia whined.

Leah finally got the picture on the hook in the wall and straightened before descending the small ladder. “Of course we can go see them.”

“YEAH?”

“Yes beautiful” Leah walked over and dropped a kiss to the top of Alessia’s head. “Let me just change my shirt.”

Alessia squealed. “I’ll get the keys and meet you in the car!” Then she was off down the hall, leaving Leah just standing there.

“Never again.” Leah muttered to herself.

15 minutes later they were in a village a stones throw from the training center. “These puppies are Gooners born and raised. One of them is definitely ours!” Alessia bounced in the passenger seat as Leah pulled the car over in front of a small white cottage. She had the door open before Leah even got the engine shut off. The defender could only laugh at her girlfriend's excitement. Alessia at least waited for Leah to catch up before she knocked on the door.

A few puppies could be heard yapping behind the door as well as a woman trying to calm them down. “Saka, get off of Declan. Leah! No, stop pushing Kai around. Little, get a handle on your team.”

Leah and Alessia just looked at each other. The door opened a moment later to reveal an older woman with dark hair that was graying around her face. She had her head turned back towards the dogs in the house when she first greeted the couple. “Hello, sorry for all the yapping. But trying to control 10 pups is-” She stopped mid sentence when she finally turned to face the blondes. “Bloody hell, you’re Alessia Russo and Leah Williamson.”

“That’s us!” Alessia said cherrily. “I emailed you about meeting the foster pups.”

“Really?”

Alessia glanced over at Leah for a moment. “Ah, yeah. I mean, are you Martha?”

“I am.”

“Then I do believe you were the one I was emailing with.”

“Oh. Yes, yes. Sorry. I just. You’re Alessia Russo.” The women then turned to Leah. “And your-” The woman shook her head. “Sorry, I just can’t believe that you two are standing at my door. And clearly my manners have completely left me. Come in. Please.” The woman stood back in the entryway to allow the footballers in. “I have 2 real life Gunners here to meet my Gooners.”

Leah laughed. “It would seem that way. And thank you for letting us come meet them.”

“Oh yes, of course. So, umm.” The woman pointed towards a couch in the living room. “Please have a seat there, or on the floor if you like. So yeah, I’m Martha.”

“Hello Martha. So did you say you have 10 puppies right now?” Leah asked.

“Yes. There are the 6 Gooners that were found near the pond. And then I have 4 others from a pregnant foster I took in. They were born about a week before I took the pups. Since no mother was found with the Gooners, Emilia stepped up and took the 6 in with her own. She’s in the garden right now having a bit of a break.” Martha smiled.

“I thought I heard you say a few names as you came to the door?” Alessia lowered herself onto the floor in front of the couch, which got the attention of several puppies who came bounding over to inspect the new person.

“Oh yes.” Martha chuckled. “All of the pups are named after players. So that one there is Kaka, and that’s Kai. The blonde one is Leah.”

Alessia scooped that one up first. “Well don’t you have the perfect name, pretty girl.” She cooed.

“The one with the long skinny legs is Stina. The dark one is Declan. And then,” Martha looked around the room and continued pointing and naming pups as she saw them. “There is Frida, Foxy, and Victoria.”

“I thought I heard you say Little, and that’s only 8.” Leah pointed out just as there was a crashing sound from somewhere in the house.

The older woman huffed. “That would be McCabe. And I’m sure Little is right behind her trying to get her to stop whatever mischief she has gotten herself into. I’ll be right back.” She headed out of the room.

“She can’t be serious.” Leah said quietly.

“Oh I can’t wait to tell the girls about this.” Alessia said as she rubbed the bellies of 2 of the pups.

A moment later Martha returned with a dog under each arm. A black one who was squirming in an attempt to escape, and a caramel colored one who seemed satisfied the other one had been captured. “These two, are Little and McCabe.”

“Do we need to ask which is which?” Leah chuckled.

“Your guess will be correct, I promise you.” The woman laughed as she set them both down.

McCabe shook like she had just gotten out of a bath before realizing there was someone new sitting on the floor and taking off like a tiny rocket. She barrelled through 2 other puppies before slamming into Alessia at full speed. “You are true to the namesake I see.” Alessia said as she picked the puppy up.

Little sat in the middle of the room for a moment, watching and observing all the other dogs before she seemed to decide everyone was where they should be and wandering over to Leah. She sniffed the defender's outstretched hand before sitting up on her hind legs to be picked up. “Well aren’t you a well mannered little thing.”

“She is definitely the responsible one of the bunch. We think she was the one that kept all the puppies together at the pond as she always seems to be rounding them up and checking on everyone. And then that one.” Martha pointed at McCabe. “Well her and Little are now connected at the hip because she’s always getting into something and Little is always trying to pull her back. Which is funny because McCabe is not one of the 6 Gooners.”

“Yeah, McCabe seems a bit bigger. But she’s younger, yeah?” Alessia asked.

“That’s correct. But, Little is her keeper. So much so that I’m hopeful they’ll find a home together.”

“Awe, aren’t you a sweet one.” Leah had Little on her back in her lap rubbing her chest. “Any idea what they are? Like breeds? They’re all kind of small”

“Well Emilia is part Dachshund. But she is mixed with something a bit heftier too, like a corgi maybe. And then I would guess the Gooners are Dachshund as well, but mixed with something smaller like another terrier. They have rounder snouts too.”

McCabe started getting feisty in Alessia’s lap and immediately Little rolled over from her relaxed position in Leah’s lap and jumped to the floor. She snipped lightly at McCabe’s ear causing the black pup to stop immediately.

“See. Little runs things.”

Alessia was giggling as she picked up McCabe close to her face. “At least you listen to your captain.” The puppy began squireming wildly until the footballer set her down, before taking off across the room full speed, Little hot on her heels. “Those two are adorable.” Alessia began calling over the other puppies who were happy to gain the blonde's attention.

Without a puppy in her own lap Leah pulled out her phone and began taking photos of her girlfriend with several of the pups in her lap, a bright smile on her face. She took several more photos over the next 20 minutes while Alessia rolled around on the floor with the dogs. Every so often you could hear a small bark from across the room and then McCabe would wander back to the middle of the room under Little’s watchful eye. And each time Little seemed satisfied that McCabe was going to stay with the group, the caramel colored pup sat itself at Leah’s feet.

“Kindred spirits it would seem.” Alessia said after the 3rd time.

Leah leaned down and rubbed the dog's ear, causing Little to slump over into her leg. “So it would seem.” She smiled softly.

Slowly one by one the puppies started to lose momentum and began curling up together throughout the room. Little was still settled next to Leah’s feet when McCabe came over and nudged the other dog. When she got no reaction, she crawled up into Alessia’s lap just above Little and plopped down.

Martha smiled at the footballers. “Looks like they’ve taken a liking to you.”

Alessia leaned her head back against the couch looking up at Leah. The look in her eye told Leah everything the younger woman was thinking before she even said anything. “You know, two is always better than one.”

“Is that so?” Leah smirked.

“One is so lonely.” Alessia pouted.

“I spend enough time yelling at McCabe as is.” Leah paused. “We are not keeping that name.”

“REALLY?!” Alessia squealed, waking several of the puppies. All except McCabe it seemed. “Martha, if we wanted to make these 2 ours?” She turned to the older woman.

“I would expect regular Instagram uploads to see how they are doing.” The woman smiled. “This is a private foster situation, so there really isn’t any paperwork or anything to be done if that’s what you’re asking. There are just some questions I like to ask.”

“Fire away!” Alessia hugged a sleeping McCabe to her chest.

“Do you have a fenced yard?”

“Yup! A big one! With lots of things to explore.” Alessia answered.

“Do you have a vet lined up?”

“Beth and Viv said they would give us the information for their vet. Said they highly recommend them. Especially for puppies.” Alessia played with the still sleeping dogs' ears.

“Wonderful. You two do travel. Do you have care lined up for when you are away?”

“We have several people willing to stay at the house with them.” Leah answered.

Martha took a deep breath and exhaled. “Well then. After seeing the four of you together, if you would like to take those babies home with you, I think you would be a great fit for them.”

Alessia spun around on the floor with McCabe in her arms, bright blue eyes looking at Leah. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Leah bent down and picked up the sleeping puppy at her feet. Little only opened her eyes slightly, clearly not caring about being handled. “You want to come with us and keep an eye on that little bugga for good? Hmm?”

Martha stood up. “Well then, let me get their things. They each have a toy and blanket. I’ll also give you a bag of the kibble they currently eat. You can keep them on the same brand or change it. You’ll just want to mix this one with whatever you get to help ease their body into the change. And then I have quick info care sheet.” The woman exited the room.

“Are we really taking them home Lee?”

“Yeah Lessi.”

Alessia rose up from the floor to sit on the couch next to Leah. “Thank you, Leah.” She kissed the other blonde softly. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Leah smiled as she leaned in for another kiss. “I did promise we would get a dog when we had a home with a garden, and I keep my promises.”

“That you do.”

“Alright. Here we are.” Martha reentered the room. “These belong to Little.” She held up a gray blanket and stuffed rabbit. “And these belong to McCabe.” She held up a red blanket and. . .

“Is that a shin pad?” Leah asked with a twisted face.

“It is. I honestly have no idea where it came from. Might be an old thing that belonged to one of my boys that she pulled from a closet.” She shrugged. “But as you can see from the teeth marks, she loves it.”

“She is going to need a new name before we introduce her to any of the girls.” Leah shook her head.

“Do we? It just seems to fit so well.” Alessia whined.

Leah leveled her with a glare.

“Fine.” Alessia rolled her eyes. “Martha, do you take donations or anything to help take care of these little ones or other fosters.”

“I personally don’t. I’m fortunate enough to be able to have a few fosters at once and manage. But if you would like, please donate to the shelter that sent you my way. They’re the ones that need the most help.”

“I will do that then.” Alessia smiled. “Alright McCabe. Are you ready to go see your new home? How about you, Little?” She scratched behind the ear of the pup in Leah’s lap before standing up with McCabe in her arms. Leah followed suit with Little in her arms.

Martha handed the items for each puppy to the footballer that was holding them. She leaned in and placed a kiss on top of each dog's head. “You behave.” She said to McCabe. “And keep her out of trouble.” She said to Little. “Right. I’ll get the door.”

Leah and Alessia followed Martha to the door. “Thank you so much Martha. It was a pleasure meeting you. And we’ll be sure to post plenty of pictures to keep you updated.” Alessia started.

“Yes, thank you very much.” Leah echoed.

“I can’t wait to see the official announcement with the names you pick.” Martha opened the door. “It was lovely meeting you both. Take care.” She remained on the porch and waved as the couple drove away.

On the way home, they made a stop at the pet shop for essential supplies. Mostly. They got a playpen to help contain the pups in the kitchen, or outside until they were a bit bigger, pee pads, puppy training treats, collars, harnesses and leads, and half the toy aisle. Alessia wanted to let the dogs have anything they picked. So every single toy that McCabe picked up and thrashed about went into the trolly. Little had picked up a single toy and carried it throughout the entire shop and car park as she sat in the trolly.

“We should have got that carrier that holds the dog to your chest like a baby.” Leah said as she held tightly to a wiggling puppy. “McCabe, seriously.”

“Here.” Alessia grabbed one of the toys they had purchased and handed it to Leah, which was swiftly snatched by the black pup who began thrashing in the defender's arms. “Calm down Stitch.”

Leah stopped walking. Alessia stopped the trolly a few steps later, turning back to her girlfriend. “What?” The striker asked over her shoulder.

“McCabe is Stitch. And Little is Lilo.” Leah looked at each pup as she said the names.

Alessia looked between the dogs and Leah. “Oh my gawd, Le! They are!” She scooped the caramel colored puppy out of the trolly. “What do you think Little? Hmm? I think Lilo would be a perfect name for you. And she.” She turned towards Leah and the other pup. “Is definitely Stitch.” Alessia took a few steps to Leah. “Lilo and Stitch, yeah?”

“Lilo and Stitch.”

Alessia gave Leah a quick kiss. “Come on. Let’s get the car loaded.”

The couple continued through the car park and loaded their items into the boot. Each pup still holding on to a toy. When they were settled into their seats, Alessia pulled out her phone. “Hold Stitch for a sec, Le. I want to send a pic to the girls.”

StarGirl23: jpeg.

StarGirl23: Anyone want to come over and meet Lilo and Stitch?

#woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #leah williamson #alessia russo #arsenal women #arsenal wfc

[changingplumbob]

6 months in...

Have a teen Cassandra, Devin and Charlie.

Today makes 6 months since I've been posting, and about a year that I've been playing with my rotational save. I'm so happy to finally have people to talk to about my sims so this post, much like my 3 months post, is here to say THANK YOU

Thank you first and foremost for caring about what I have to share into the void. I really didn't think my little stories would gain any followers beyond the people I migrated here from Spoutible with. After all they're sims living simple-ish lives, making their families with less drama than the average story on here. And no tidying up filters or edits. Somehow you welcomed them into your dash and I'm extremely grateful. Thank you for every single like you give. For those that comment, thanks for the chats. For those that want to comment, I promise not to be scary. For those that don't want to comment or don't have time, guess what? I still appreciate you being on this journey with me!

On behalf of my sims, thank you for accepting them. Thank you for understanding they fall all over the map. They have different body builds, genders, romantic attractions, sexual attractions, woohoo drives, are neurotypical and neurodiverse as well as having different moralities (I have an evil sim and a good sim now? Can't remember if they've ever talked but they certainly know of each other). I'm trying to add in more ethnic/cultural diversity where I can but with long lifespans it can take a while.

Between you and me one of my biggest tumblr fears is getting to part 3 of a household only for someone to comment "These ones are so boring, get back to blah blah blah", but... that hasn't happened? Somehow I've been extremely lucky and landed in the part of tumblr where none of you post mean or rude things on my posts. For this I am incredibly thankful.

Thank you for accepting me being me, and everything that entails. Including days where my IBS keeps me from being overly literate. All the cute cats I have no choice but to reblog. Understanding I have no idea how to play tag properly. Not cutting me off for an excessive love of puns and shoving song lyrics into tags. For including me with the boops, virtual flower bouquets, and asks where I can't seem to give a short answer.

Thanks to you for not minding me commenting on your posts. Extra thanks for reblogging the content and stories you enjoy to broaden my horizons.

So until later today (or your tomorrow) when I introduce which household we'll be heading next I decided to do something different. I have on my external harddrive screenshots from when I decided to start writing alongside my sims gameplay. There was some weird happenings way back when so have a flashback or three.

What's that? A couple of you have followed me in the past three months and haven't seen my cat? Let me remedy that! Here she is with one of her two favourite blankets.

EDIT: I'm super nauseous today and will probably be off tumblr while my IBS settles and I have to take her *points above* to the vet because her arthritis meds have her off her food and I want to make sure we're doing what we can to keep up her food intake because she's a delicate 12 year old lady.

#6 months in #feeling grateful #thanks for being you #thanks for letting me be me

[whumblr]

They are here for me

Prologue

-

“Dead men don’t just pop out to stretch their legs, Ava!”

“Don’t you shout at me! God, I came here to watch a movie, not to you ambushing us with conspiracy theories!”

Lucas opened his mouth to retort, but had none. Okay, yeah, he had kind of ambushed them on their weekend outing. But he had no other choice. Barging in on her at home was too dangerous. And she wouldn’t have taken that well, either. Hell, staying at his own home was too dangerous. But he needed someone to confide in. Either he was going paranoid, or he really was being watched. And neither was good.

He sat back and, to avoid Ava’s accusing glance, let his gaze roam over to the little girl now happily scurrying along the candy lane. She had been easier to pacify than her aunt; a promise of a later movie with a bag of candy to go with and she was happy to give them some time to discuss things.

A trait she probably hadn’t inherited from her aunt, or well, maybe she had… Always make a good deal. That was Ava’s motto, pounded into him ever since he started working with her. Ava wasn’t easily bought. Even at the office, if he’d try to get her in a good mood, seeing her favourite coffee drink waiting for her on her desk was only met with suspicion. Like it wasn’t just coffee but a bribe.

She was on his side here, but god, he needed something to convince her. Without sounding paranoid.

Ava followed his gaze, the girl now intensely focused, finger running over the containers trying to decide. “You owe me for this. That girl ain't stopping until that bag is full.”

“Yeah, fine, okay. Here’s ten bucks.” He slapped a bill on the side table. “And take this as well.” He carefully but deliberately placed a thumb drive on top of the bill.

Despite her anger and doubt, Ava didn't hesitate. She folded the bill over the drive, neatly packaging it, and tucked it away in her wallet. Only her voice carried her suspicion. “What is this?”

“Everything I have on that man. Files show he should have been released years ago, yet his body was brought in to the morgue directly from the prison. And now he’s gone. Nothing adds up here.”

“You couldn’t wait ‘til Monday—" Ava started, but a voice over the speakers interrupted her.

“Ladies and gentleman, at the request of the police we have to ask you to please evacuate the building through the main exit. We are deeply sorry for the inco—"

Lucas ignored the announcement at first, thinking they were just calling for the next movie to start, but at the word ‘police’ he jumped up. He flew towards the railing of the second floor, overlooking the main lobby of the movie theatre, nearly crashing right into it and leaning over.

At the floor below, people were already making their way out, flanked by a troop of military police who checked everyone leaving the building. A smaller group made their way inside, pushing through the confused crowd. Lucas watched it all unfold, equally confused by the spectacle yet also in total disbelief, ignoring the alarm bells blaring in his head.

A tall man in a long black coat who appeared to be the leader effortlessly made his way through, following his men. He oozed authority, striding his way past the crowd, his manner relaxed and calm, determined, and signalled with a single gesture of his hand for the men to split up and take the surrounding staircases up.

Lucas glanced back towards Ava, who quickly called her niece back to her and stood, ready to leave. He shook his head, gesturing for her to wait just a bit. Because this couldn’t be happening. This was proof he was just paranoid.

When he looked down again, his breath caught.

The tall man, the leader, was looking up. Straight at him. Eyes met. Narrowed. Widened, in Lucas’ case. And he knew.

The man called something out to his troopers but Lucas already pushed himself away from the railing and shot back to Ava.

“They’re here for me—” he started.

“Oh, Lucas, don’t be so dramati—”

“No. Listen. They are here for me!” he said, emphasizing each word. “I don’t have time. Take that drive and get out! You can go through the main entrance. I need you on this, Ava, please!”

And before she could even protest any further, he ran off towards the back, hoping to find an unguarded back entrance.

Useless, really. The building was probably completely surrounded by now, all escape routes cut off. But he had to try. He wasn’t going to surrender himself to them and attempt to talk this out. If they were willing to go to such lengths, in public… there wouldn’t be much to talk about.

He ran through the long hallway connecting the theatres, stomping over the red plush carpet, trying the doors to make for the emergency exit inside, but the doors had already been locked. He cursed a desperate note, continued running. His only way of escape was probably through the double doors. The main entrance, guarded by men who hopefully wouldn’t recognise him if he could just blend in with the crowd and get out, meet up with Ava.

He screeched to a halt as a rumble of heavy footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway, getting louder, getting closer. He turned on his heels and shot the other way. Heard shouts of recognition behind him. Panic seared through him and he nearly stumbled over himself in his haste to get away. Came to an abrupt halt again as two more men blocked his path from the other side.

They were armed… but they didn’t even bother reaching for their guns.

He froze for a second, fell a step back. Nearly tore his neck as he looked back; the other group now slowly closing him in. This couldn’t be happening. Right?! He glanced back and forth at the two groups of men not letting up, advancing on him as if he was a wild animal, as if he was the one who carried a weapon.

He was trapped. Completely trapped. The only option left was…

Fight! His body screamed, adrenaline bracing him, tensing his muscles. Push through!

Surrender! His mind countered instead, turning his limbs to lead with paralyzing fear as if it was already prepping to make him sink to his knees. Don’t make things worse.

Torn, he shot another glance back and forth. And made up his mind.

With a desperate scream he launched himself at the two men, hoping to bulldozer through.

They didn’t even blink.

He crashed right into them. Like crashing into a solid wall. Not giving him one inch.

One caught him by the elbow. An arm slid around his torso. A sharp pain exploded in his knee and he collapsed at their feet, half held up by his arm that was now twisted to his back. He hissed. Pain shot through his shoulder, forcing him face-down to the ground. Where he saw more combat boots drawing nearer.

“N—Get off, get—!”

He struggled with all his might, knowing full well he couldn’t throw off two trained men with their full weight on him. He flailed, begged, screamed. Bucked and twisted to get free. Managed to pull one hand free and driven by this small success, he doubled his efforts.

He vaguely registered slower footsteps drawing nearer, but with another knee forced onto his back he couldn’t look up. His chest pressed into the soft carpet. He trashed again, a final attempt—

When suddenly a harsh grip snared in his hair. His head was pulled up and before he could even realise what was going on, everything exploded in pain as his forehead slammed into the floor.

He couldn’t move a muscle for a few agonising seconds. Heard a distinct click. Made to try and bring his hands to press against his head, but something stopped him. He couldn’t see a thing, nothing but a white flash slowly fading to red, the red of the carpet that scratched his forehead as he stuttered back to life and slowly shook his head with a moan.

Two pairs of strong hands grabbed him by the upper arms, pulled him up. He followed with a groan, slouching in their grip, half bend-over, legs protesting against the weight forced on them. Blood gushed from his nose, dripped over his chin and splattered onto the carpet. His vision was still blurry. He blinked hard, trying to focus, his gaze stuttering over to the man still towering over him even now that they’d scraped him from the floor.

He barely had the strength to raise his head, merely stared straight ahead, eyes at chest height. He tried very hard to focus on one of the shiny buttons of the man’s long black coat until he was pulled upright. His gaze followed up, searching for the man’s eyes. They were the same cold eyes that had looked up at him from the lobby, now looking down with a certain cold condescension.

The man’s hard stare snapped to his subordinates.

“Take him away.” And with an equally cold harsh nod, Lucas was half carried along, down the stairs, the toes of his shoes scraping over the carpet every now and then as he struggled to keep up.

There was no mercy of a quiet exit by the stage door. The unit marched him right down the lobby, through the double doors of the main entrance, clearing a perplexed crowd to carry a bloody, half-conscious man to a police car.

He spotted Ava outside, hand in front of her mouth, eyes wide and fixed on his face. He tried to smile at her, but it probably came out as a twisted grimace. With bloodied teeth, perhaps. Not the reassurance he had in mind.

They deposited him like a limp rag in the back of the police car. The door slammed shut and he sagged against it, taking the pressure off his bound hands. The man getting in the front turned in his seat to look back at him. He could barely make out his face, but it was the man who had smashed his head in. His lips moved. Did he just say something? There was no concern in those eyes whatsoever, so Lucas doubted he asked an ‘are you okay?’.

The car blurred, the world turned to silence. And as the car rumbled to life, his vision joined gave in, everything turning black.

-

Still untitled prison whump project tag list :) @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop

#whump #whump writing #failed escape #public whump #manhandling #stoic whumper #captured #chase scene #restrained whumpee #my writing

[paradoxcase]

John 5:4

THE TOWER HAS BEEN REACTIVATED

So I guess that is for "Earth" and then "Alecto" and then "Harrow". It's interesting that this little secondary story does not actually tell us anything about where the name "Alecto" came from. Was it a name that John gave to her? Or one that she gave herself? Given John's obsession with the name Gaia, I would have thought he'd pick that

You've proven over and over again that no one should trust you with anything, dude

Harrow mentions "waking up" as being a separate thing from resurrection again later, but it's not clear what this means at either point

Are you telling me that John made them forget everything just by doing something physical to their brains and Mercy the anatomy expert who definitely figured out what Harrow did to her brain after only a few months never figured this out in 10,000 years? I cannot believe that

This makes it sound like the other planets were already populated before John destroyed everything. So how did those people die? Did just killing the planets cause that to happen? Did John kill all the people on the planets in addition to the planets? I figured that at least the technology to make the other planets habitable had come from after the start of the 10,000 years, but apparently not even that was invented during John's regime, the whole society has just been completely static the whole time. This is straining suspension of disbelief here

There's no way they decided they wanted to do whatever John did with Alecto, because until the end of Harrow the Ninth, all of the Lyctors thought Alecto was just someone that John resurrected who came back wrong, they didn't realize she was Earth, and they definitely didn't realize she was John's cavalier, that was the whole point of the reveal at the end of the last book

So confirmed that John only created the Lyctors so that they would be roped into fighting the resurrection beasts for him. And then he talks about ripping his fingers from his hands and throwing them to the resurrection beasts, but what he really means is sacrificing his friends so that he can continue on

Oh my god, I don't think I've ever been this mad about someone misinterpreting a bible story before. The whole point of the flood story was that God said, oh, no, this was a terrible mistake, I'm so sorry, I promise I will never destroy the world again no matter how bad it gets. The point was not that the world was evil and needed a "fresh start", the point of the story was that destroying the world just because there are some evil people there is wrong. And like, this isn't a one-time lesson in the OT, either, it comes back again in the Sodom and Gomorrah story when God wants to destroy the cities because there are some bad people there and Abraham has a big argument with him and argues him down to agreeing to spare the cities if there is even one good person there other than Lot and his family. This was like, character development for God, he went from someone who destroyed the whole world because of some bad people and he is learning and relenting and getting some perspective from Abraham. And then later you have the story of Jonah, where now it's Jonah who wants the city destroyed, and God is lecturing him about why that's not right. Like, to the extent that the OT, which was written by like four or five different people with very different ideas of who God was and then frankensteined together by an editor hundreds of years later actually has a coherent narrative and consistent themes, this is pretty consistent. How does someone who grows up with these stories fail at understanding them so badly? How is it possible for someone who probably has advanced degrees to have such shit reading comprehension? This is the most infuriating thing John has ever said in these entire last two books

So this is what she meant by "where did you put the people" at the end of the last John chapter. I would guess the answer is either that he actually consumed all of their souls for power somehow, or that their souls are somewhere generating power in some way. I guess this probably won't be answered until the fourth book

The "tower" that's been menitoned... but it doesn't seem like this is meant to be Canaan House, as people have indicated on previous posts, and at least in this case it seems to be something that's in the River, or maybe she is just travelling through the River to get there?

Also, since this is the last John chapter, I have to ask, for poll-making purposes: Is it ever clarified in this book or elsewhere which country was the one that hired John to puppet around their dead head of state?

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth

[f4iry-bell]

jameson hawthorne x reader enemies to lovers | part 2

part 1

i promise the 3rd part will be better and with a lot of gilmore girls reference!!!!

Jameson barely saw her after that, the only place he saw her was their journalism class which he wanted to drop out of because he was not interested in journalism, the only reason he joined this class was to compete with her. Now that he has won, what's the point? But there was something holding him back. Maybe he knew what it was or maybe he didn't. Or that's what he'd like to think.

After class he noticed a familiar face sitting under a tree with her laptop open, working on something. He was debating whether or not he should approach her. He won their little competition, there's no point in talking to this girl ever again. But it won't hurt to annoy someone who gets annoyed easily, right? So he walked to where she was sitting. Without looking away from her screen she spoke.

“What do you want?” She asked while typing something.

“What makes you think I want something?” He answered with a question.

“Seriously, why are you here? To brag? To rub it on my face that you have the spot?” She asked, finally looking up to him.

Jameson took a seat next to her on the ground, stretching out his long legs. “I would but I was curious. What are you working on?” He asked, peeking at her screen which made her shut her laptop.

“Why? So you can steal whatever I'm working on right now as well?” She asked.

“I wouldn't say I stole your idea. I simply wrote a better piece of work than you. The better one gets the spot” He shrugged.

“It was better because you had an insider! The insider being you is very helpful to you!” She snapped at him.

“Come on, Ace. It's just a spot. You can try next year,” He chuckled.

“For people like you. You know you could easily get a job at any magazine with that last name of yours without this spot, without an internship this spot may give you but it's not like that for me. I was supposed to get that spot, so by the end of senior year I'd get an internship at a magazine and would get a proper job. I had a plan, now it's ruined. The least you could do is leave me alone” She got it out of her chest and looked away from him.

Jameson didn't know what to say, he never had an idea of how much this spot meant for her, maybe she should have told him. He felt bad regardless. He didn't console her or say anything to make her feel better or even apologies instead he left her alone like she asked. 

_

This time it was her who knocked on his fancy apartment door, furiously. Jameson opened the door and tried hard not to smile.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” He asked, leaning against the door frame.

“You backed out from the Yale newspaper” She stated.

“Keeping tabs on me now, Ace?” He smirked. 

“I got the spot. Because you dropped out. I don't want the spot out of pity!” She explained. 

“I thought you wanted the spot”

“Not like this”

“Like what? I backed out because I got bored, not because I felt bad for you. Don't get any thoughts” He smirked.

“You did this on purpose, so everytime I sit there I'll be thinking of how I'm there only because it got passed down to me” Jameson was amused.

“Ah, now I don't control your thoughts. It's just you who think like that” He said.

“You are so frustrating!” She said.

“Says you” He chuckled which only made her about to lose it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Jameson took that time to check her out, he liked how she looked when she was mad at him. He found it very attractive. Something that he'll admit to himself.

“I'll get back at you, just watch.” She threatened.

“Do your worst” 

_

Exactly five days later Jameson got kicked out of his fancy apartment near the campus because someone told the landlord about how often he got arrested during his gap year and the landlord can't risk having cops showing at his door steps often. It's bad for the apartment complex’s reputation. And Jameson knew who exactly would have whispered this information about him to the landlord. The college’s dormitory was full, he can't get a new apartment near campus soon. He decided to keep his things and stay at a friend's place for a while. But then he got an idea. He packed a few things, made some calls and drove to a very friendly apartment. He knocked on the door and barged inside the apartment with his bag like he owned the place.

“What are you doing here?” She asked with a frown. “What's that?” She pointed towards the bag.

Before answering her question Jameson looked at her up and down. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that covered her shorts revealing her legs. “Well, I don't have a place to stay.”

“Aw, sad” She gave him a fake sad expression. “But that doesn't explain why you are here”

“Your roommate was kind enough to let me stay and have the couch. Very nice girl, you should learn a thing or two from her” He smirked. He called her roommate and used his irresistible charms. 

Her expression changed, to his favourite one. She gave him a hostile glare. “You’re not staying in my apartment.”

“Oh but I am.” He smirked, putting his bag down.

“You’re not the one who is paying the rent, I am. I make the decisions here” She pointed.

“And so does your kind roommate. Who likes helping homeless boys. You know, I wouldn't be here if you didn't get me kicked out of my apartment” He shrugged.

“You can literally get any apartment”

“I like this one. It's cute and cozy.” She didn't reply, instead she went inside her room and shut the door. Jameson had a satisfied grin on his face.

Jameson didn't just stay in her apartment. He messed with her, he took his fine time in the bathroom, he ate her food, he moved her things around which pissed her off even more. He would constantly knock on her room door just because he can.

When she came back after college she found him in her room snooping around. She immediately walked to him and snatched her kindle from his hands.

“Stay out of my room and away from my stuff!” She said with an embarrassed look on her face. 

“You have intellectual taste in physical copy of books, I'll admit. But your kindle on the other hand. Romance? Or must I say smu—” 

“Shut up. You had no right to go through my stuff!” She yelled.

“I understand, everyone has their needs.” He teased her.

“I said shut up. Get out of my room” She demanded.

“Relax, I didn't read anything. I just looked up the book and the internet told me some interesting things.” He explained. He wasn't going through her things, maybe her books. But he wouldn't actually go through her private stuff. He couldn't help but look up the book she was reading on kindle. It has a very cute cover.

“Out. Now!”

“Or what?”

“God, your life must be so boring that you decided to involve yourself in mine” She said.

“Boring? Ace, my life is anything but boring. Getting involved in yours just makes it better.” He explained. There is nothing boring about Jameson Hawthorne.

“Fine, you win! Now get out of my room” 

“Or what?”

Instead of replying she just groans. She was thinking, he's only doing this to get a reaction out of her. So she decided to stop giving him one. Maybe then he'll go away.

“You know what? Do whatever you want. I don't care.” With that she picked up her kindle and started reading on the bed.

“Reading that infront of me?” He asked. She didn't reply or even look at him. She was reading as if he's not even in the room.

“Hello?” No response.

“I'm going to open your laptop” He said hoping she'd stop him. But she didn't, her laptop required a passcode. He kept trying to do things that'll make her acknowledge him but she treated him as if he was invisible for a whole day. Jameson didn't like this, he enjoyed getting a rise out of her. Not when she ignored him like he wasn't even there. He was getting frustrated by this treatment. 

“I drank your juice,” He informed her.

No response.

“Oh come on.” He gave up. He gently grabbed her arm and made her face him. “At least look at me!” She did look at him, there something about the way she looked at him.

She smiled. “I win,” She announced.

“No, you did not.” He denied.

“You got frustrated. And gave up.” She smirked.

“Not true”

“Oh? Then why are you forcing me to look at you? Admit it, this only works when I give you a reaction, when I don't you get frustrated.” 

“You stopped playing. It doesn't count”

“I did not, I just used a different method” She shrugged. “My second win by the way” She told him. First the riddle, now this.

He looked at her eyes with an intense glare, he only had one win. 

“How does it feel to lose a very silly game?” She asked, bringing her face close to his. 

Bad idea. Wrong move.

 Because the next thing Jameson did was lose it, not his temper. It takes a lot more than this to get him mad. He lost control and kissed her while still holding her arm. He sure was attracted to her from the beginning. He couldn't resist when she was frustrated or like now bloating her win. He was frustrated too, because of his loss. Maybe that's why he kissed her. Probably that's why. But why did she kiss him back? Especially with the same energy as him?

His hand holding her arm moved to her waist while placing his other hand at the nape of her neck tilting her head up. Kissing her felt great, better than seeing the look on her face when she gets annoyed at the little things he does. The feeling didn't last long because she pulled back. He immediately released his hold on her waist and neck letting her take a couple steps back and then run to her room.

He didn't follow her or knocked on the door to tease her about the kiss. Instead, he picked up his bag and went back to place. It was one hell of a kiss because he couldn't stop thinking about it, the way his hands felt on her skin, the way she let him kiss. He wanted more of that kiss. More of her. He doesn't know what this feeling is and he doesn't want to know because if he did, he would have to act on it. Maybe this is where their little rivalry game ends.

#jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #the grandest game #jameson hawthorne x reader

[the-kipsabian]

i just woke up and im already sad

#got back into that mindset of knowing im gonna be alone on my birthday #with the vet bills dont even have money to do anything or order the stuff i originally wanted #my wife will be out of the country that weekend too #she promised me a cake the weekend after that tho. and 7th and 8th there'll be a lot of wrestling to watch #coworker promised me cake that friday but. yeah thats about it. nobody really remembers or cares when you turn 30 #im old im miserable im gonna drink my stupid bitter bean juice and do nothing all day woo #sorry im just. its less than two weeks away and i have nothing to look forward to thats special to me #i got kip in the mail but he'll be here tomorrow and thats it. and that wasnt even a birthday gift #i hate turning years old it just reminds me how little the world actually cares that im here #i'll probably just delete this later sorry #night is an absolute mess on main

[luveline]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.

luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader

James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 

He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.

"It's not about irritating me," you say. 

"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 

"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 

"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 

What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 

James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 

"You alright?" the smoother asks.

You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 

"Lovely."

"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 

James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 

"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 

Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.

"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 

"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 

Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 

Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 

You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 

"And what do you do?" you ask him. 

He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 

"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.

"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 

James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."

"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 

"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 

Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.

"Woah," James says, beaming.  

Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 

"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders #luveline's 40k party

[perlelune]

NDA | Coriolanus Snow

When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.

Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.

She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.

As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.

She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.

“So what do you think sets you apart  from the other applicants?”

You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.

This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?

Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.

Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.

So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.

It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.

Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.

“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.

But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.

“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”

An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.

Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.

You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.

You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.

Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body. 

The sudden collision threatens your balance.

Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.

As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.

“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.

As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.

You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you. 

 Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.

The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.

A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.

“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”

Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.

“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”

“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.

You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.

You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.

Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow. 

“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.

Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”

As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.

Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.

“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”

He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.

“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”

His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his. 

Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares. 

As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it. 

When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.

Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.

Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.

“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.

“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.

You close the cabinet and beam at him.

“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.

It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.

You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.

“It’s fine.”

You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.

“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”

He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes. 

“Stop it.”

You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.

“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.

His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.

“Laertes…”

He shakes his head, his expression firm.

“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”

Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.

You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals. 

Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.

You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.

“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.

He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.

“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.

“How did it go?”

“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”

The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.

Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.

“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“Okay.”

His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.

He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.

“Finish your plate before going to your room.”

Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.

“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.

“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.

He gathers his books and strides towards his room. 

Your voice rises.

“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”

“I…love you too,” he mumbles.

You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.

The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.

You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.

To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”

The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.

“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”

Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.

“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”

He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste. 

Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?

You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.

These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox. 

Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.

You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up. 

You take a deep slow breath before reading it again. 

This time, a squeal escapes from your lips. 

You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies. 

After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true. 

Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly. 

You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling. 

Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job. 

Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.

You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.

Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.

A weary sigh ripples behind you.

You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.

“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”

“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”

She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.

“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”

She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.

She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.

“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval. 

You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.

“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”

He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that. 

You turn to Pandora.

“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”

Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”

“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”

Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.

“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”

You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.

“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”

“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”

“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”

A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.

“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”

You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.

You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.

She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.

She was a fairytale princess come to life.

Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.

Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.

She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire. 

But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.

The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.

You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.

“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”

Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”

As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.

Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.

You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.

Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.

It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other. 

“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features. 

“And why is that?”

“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”

You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.

But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.

Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading. 

“You’re leaving again?”

You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day. 

You hunker down to his level.

“My little brother’s expecting me.”

His forehead puckers. “Stay…”

“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face. 

You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.

As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling  screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.

Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.

Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.

But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it. 

Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.

Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.

Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it. 

The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze. 

President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.

Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before. 

The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.

A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked. 

Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.

You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door. 

Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs.  The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back. 

No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.

…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind. 

You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.

But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain. 

You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.

You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery. 

“Yes?”

“The president wants to see you in his office.”

Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.

“Really, why?”

“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”

Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”

Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”

A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked. 

You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.

A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately. 

His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.

“Are you settling in well?” he asks.

“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”

“I hear my son is very fond of you.”

You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”

He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.

“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.

Your head rises. “What’s strange?”

“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”

Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”

“No fiancé?”

“No, sir.”

“A lover then?”

Warmth rushes to your face.

“No…”

He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.

“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”

A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”

“But…”

Your mouth dries.

“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”

His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”

Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud. 

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”

He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement. 

“Really? What happened then?”

His gaze locks with yours. 

“I grew up.”

Confused, you frown. 

“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”

Another laugh bursts from his chest.

“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”

He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you. 

“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”

“I…yes.”

Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways. 

He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.

“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes you are, sir.”

He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.

Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.

“Liar,” he mumbles.

Your pulse quickens.

He leans back and nudges your chin upward.

“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”

President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.

“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.

The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.

“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.

Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.

Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds. 

Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.

“Please, President Snow, s-stop…” 

“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.

Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.

You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.

Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves. 

“P-President…” 

He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.

Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.

Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest. 

When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.

There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt. 

He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.

When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.

Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.

“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.

His teeth nip the skin of your neck.

“...But I do.”

After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.

Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.

Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.

More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.

As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.

You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.

But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.

You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.

Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.

Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.

You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.

“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.

Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.

You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.

“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”

The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.

“You’re not my mom.”

A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.

“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.

You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?

“Martius-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.

“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”

Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.

“First Lady, I never meant-”

Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.

Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.

You shiver, waiting still.

But it doesn’t come.

“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”

The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open. 

You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle. 

“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”

The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.

Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.

“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.

The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs. 

“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”

You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.

“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.

Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.

“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”

A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.

The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.

“This is for the president,” you announce.

She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”

You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.

All of it feels wrong. 

And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.

You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”

Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”

You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”

“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”

Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.

How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.

The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.

You toss a questioning look at the driver.

But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.

You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.

Peacekeepers.

Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.

They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.

The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.

Your fearful gaze rises to him.

He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.

“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”

He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.

“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”

The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.

“Sir…”

His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.

“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him. 

Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.

“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”

Chills dance over your spine.

“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.

He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.

But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.

“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears. 

He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.

“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”

#dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

[moonit3]

A LOYAL BUTLER

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, smut, mentioned deaths, mentioned masturbation, obsession, afab! reader, forbidden love (?), fingering, cunnilings, overstimulating, forbidden relationship.

➥ yandere! butler x mistress! reader

➥ synopsis: with all men dead, you are the currently head of the family and by your side stand your loyal butler who helps you with a small problem.

➥ a/n: request by @taeee0902. based on a small chat we had a few weeks ago. I really love their idea of having a butler as a yandere for a mistress who can’t catch a break from work, so she uses her beloved servant as a stress relief. this one is a little short since I got a some projects from college I need to do. SECOND PART HERE, GUYS!

➥ unlike the rest of the noble houses of the empire, the barony is lead by a woman, you. since your father, brothers and uncles death, you have become the head of the family in the middle of the night with the approval of the last member of the royal family, the empress. meaning that none could take over your place if they marry you, making you the only person able to rule over the barony along with the help of elliot, your personal butler.

➥ he has been on your side since the early days. a little bit older than you by a couple of years, elliot has been your butler and best friend for a long time, someone who you can trust with your secrets and to help around work when you are stressed out. his gloved hands caressing your hair when you can barely stay awake from working hours and hour without a break or when elliot lays you down the couch of the office to give you a nice and deserved rest.

➥ it a routine that you are still getting used to it. always working without taking a single break (how father managed to do that?), talking and talking with people who are boring (almost falling asleep during meetings) and your less favorite, being so lonely. being the head of the house means that you have no time to spend one with the family, at least with those who still alive, and they live so far away from the barony that makes you feel so alone most of the time…but you have elliot at your side, don’t you? he won’t leave anytime soon, he promised that.

➥ most of the days is about you and elliot working together to fill the paperwork before night, it’s not easy as you expected, but its satisfying seeing how your hardwork later when the money arrives. and of course, you buy a few gifts for elliot to thank him for his help.

➥ sometimes are cufflinks that are made with the finest gems of the empire to match his eyes (that are only for you, my dear), expensive clothing that make many mistake him for a nobleman (he wishes to be the one to marry you) and a glass to help with his poor eyesight (he didn’t imagine that you could even more gorgeous). you are perfect, none can be compared to you and those who even try to stand up at the same height as your should suffer.

➥ and when you stop working for the day, elliot makes sure to take care of you. massaging your shoulder after you finally get a time to rest, preparing the soft and tasty food to make up to your hard work and helping you taking off your dresses. his hand unbuttoning the back of vests, to reveal your collarbone (the one that he dreams to place many marks on it) and your lingerie.

➥ he only could imagine how beautiful you are behind those piece of clothing, the water of the bathtub made difficult to see you nudity as he washes you hair with the finest shampoo and hearing you humming a melody from an old fairy tale. elliot feels like he is the happiest man on earth by touching your body in a intimate way, but he wishes to be more close with you and feel your body under his. is this too much to ask for?

➥ once the bath is done for good, elliot helps you put some lightly vests to cover you from the cold night and then guide you to the office, after all, you still need to work with some paperwork, where he stays right by your side for a couple of minutes before his time to leave. he was ready to leave for the night, but you call his name from the desk and asked him to come closer.

➥ is there something you need from me, [name]? he has the right to call by first name when alone. elliot hoped to be a simple request, such a glass of water, but you surprised him. you asked him, your personal butler, to have a sexual relationship with him. a casual thing, you told him that you need to let the stress out somehow.

➥ elliot’s mind told him to refuse the request, it’s not right to a noble woman and her butler to be in an intimate relationship, it’s forbidden! but his heart told him otherwise, saying it’s his only chance to be closer to you as he always dreamed of and that he could stop touching himself while thinking of you at night…he accepted your offer.

➥ the following day went smoothly to the servants of the household, after all, you looked so much better after days and days of stressing over working! but where is elliot? the butler was supposed to be serving you all the time, but no one can find him anywhere…maybe if they look under your desk they would find him.

➥ his fingers is hitting places you couldn’t never. teasing and touching every inch of your spongy walls, making you almost unable to hold back the moans that are desperate trying to get out. elliot has zero experience in touching a woman, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a faster leaner, managing to find the best areas of your inside to result in your body squirt under his touch. letting your fluids hit his lips and glasses, making him feel so powerful for being the responsible one to do it.

➥ eyes rolling back and trembling your whole body when elliot goes further with his tongue inside you. tasting how sweet and admiring how wet you can get by a merely teasing of his part, have you dream of this? how long have you been waiting for this to happen? he is going to ask it later, but now, he will be the responsible one to make you come by his tongue alone, elliot wants to drink til the last drop.

➥ his pleasure is ignored, completely obsessing over yours. elliot has his main goal to make you come by him and to hear the sweet sounds coming out of your lips, he adores it so much! it’s seem like time stops when you orgasm over and over til you can’t talk nor move your legs…and he isn’t stopping.

➥ elliot…t-too much, please stop. he doesn’t hear your words, his tongue continues to move inside and fingers are holding your thighs away to give him a better view of your pretty pussy, admiring it once again, then he continues with his work to make you feel good, unaware that you’ve reach your limit.

➥ luckily, you managed to push him away and elliot finally notice of your currently state. if someone say you right now, they won’t believe that you are noble lady, not with a commoner between your legs, with an expression from those erotic novels that many read in secret. it would be a such problem if anyone catch him this way.

➥ I-I’m exhausted… you are tired, of course you are, who wouldn’t be after a series of orgasm? but not elliot. he stares at you with his eyes begging for more, not even caring about his pants being ruined by his cum. tonight he is going to focus on you alone. you w-want more? he nodded, already teasing your clit again and whispering how much he loves you, his finger tapping your skin and fluids. well, since you asked it so nicely, elliot. you can continue it as long im working, okay?

➥ the smile on his face only grew before he went back to his place between your thighs, already feeling like he is the luckiest man in earth.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere male x reader #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere original character #yandere smut #tw yandere #tw smut #yandere butler #my oc elliot #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #x female reader #yandere x female reader #female reader #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

[steddiealltheway]

It had started out as a joke.

Okay, well Steve is pretty sure it started out as a joke to alleviate some of the anxiety before facing Vecna.

It was an innocent joke, too. Or somewhat innocent considering it was made right before they were just going to kill Vecna and maybe die in the process.

Eddie had said, "Hey, Steve?" And when he turned around, Eddie asked with a teasing smile, "A kiss for good luck?"

And Steve, in front of Robin, Nancy, and Dustin with an axe on his back, had just shrugged and walked up to him, planting a kiss right on his lips and lingering for a few seconds before pulling away. He whispered, "Good luck." Ignoring Dustin's whispered what the fuck.

"Make him pay," Eddie had kind of mumbled out in shock, and Steve just nodded, turning back to find Robin's jaw dropped. He just gave her a look that said What? It could be the end of the world. Sue me.

She had just raised her hands in defense while Nancy tried to hide a wide smile.

Later when Steve found Eddie's lifeless body in Dustin's arms, he didn't hesitate to press his lips against his again, trying to breathe life into him. When Dustin shouted something about feeling a pulse, Steve lifted Eddie up like he weighed nothing, and marched him to the gate, determined to save him.

After he was placed in a hospital bed next to Eddie, he was chastised a bit for working through the adrenaline and straining his own wounds while carrying Eddie. But Steve didn't care that it meant it would take a few more weeks for him to completely recover because Eddie was alive. And that's all that really mattered.

The first time Eddie went to physical therapy, Steve smiled at him and asked, "A kiss for good luck?"

Eddie laughed but reached out for Steve who bent over and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. It felt different this time. Less like the world was ending and more like a promise that everything would be okay.

Even after Steve was discharged from the hospital, he would come back for Eddie's physical therapy, offering a kiss for good luck before waiting for him to come back and tell him about the progress he was making.

But as his physical therapy sessions decrease as he gets used to his scars and new limitations, Steve finds himself still lingering around him.

He thinks Eddie notices. With the way he lingers around Steve as well, sneaking glances at him every so often, eyes dipping down to Steve's lips more often as he talks, he's sure Eddie knows what's on his mind.

So, it's really not a surprise when one day Steve, Robin, and Eddie are hanging out and Robin backs up with a piece of popcorn in her hand, she says, "Go long," to Steve, and Eddie asks, "A kiss for good luck?"

Steve doesn't hesitate to give him a quick peck before turning back to Robin and gesturing for her to toss him the piece. She frowns momentarily before tossing it.

Steve is almost upset when it lands in his mouth because it means no more chances of a good luck kiss.

But Eddie just smiles and says, "Maybe our kisses really do bring good luck."

Steve can't help but laugh a bit and nudge his shoulder as he grabs a piece of popcorn out of the bucket and leans back to toss it in Eddie's mouth.

Eddie leans forward this time, and Steve kisses him sweetly before pulling back and asking, "Ready?"

Eddie nods and opens his mouth, catching the popcorn easily.

Steve thinks that maybe their kisses really do bring good luck.

When Steve turns to Robin with another kernel, she jokes, "As long as you don't kiss me." But there's something in her tone that lets Steve know that they're talking about this later.

And soon, Eddie is leaving, and Steve can't help but kiss him again saying it's just good luck for the drive back to his new trailer. And of course, it's dark out, so maybe Steve puts a little more into this kiss than usual before they're both pulling away, breathing heavily into the small shared space between them. Eddie says, "Good luck here," before kissing Steve again and turning quickly to leave.

Steve lingers for a moment in the doorway, making sure Eddie drives off safely before closing the door.

"What the hell was that?"

"Jesus, Robin, how long have you been standing there?"

Robin crosses her arms. "I literally hugged him goodbye right before you two decided to make out in front of me. And since when has that been happening, dingus?" The hurt in her tone is loud and clear.

Steve leans back against the door with a sigh. "We've been doing the good luck kiss before all his physical therapy sessions. It's not a big deal though. It's just good luck. And tonight was the first time we've kissed for something other than physical therapy."

Robin's eyebrows furrow. "Steve, at one point he had PT three days a week. And how many sessions did you miss?"

"None," Steve confesses quietly.

"Oh my gosh," Robin says and walks to the living room.

"It's not like that!" Steve argues, following her.

Robin turns around and says, "Yes, it's not like you two have kissed multiple times for the past few weeks just for 'good luck' and nothing else."

Steve sighs and crosses his arms. "It's exactly like that." He pauses and looks away. "Okay, maybe I'm a little kiss-starved, but it doesn't mean anything!"

Robin worries her bottom lip as she stares at Steve looking conflicted. "Have you ever thought that maybe it might mean more to Eddie?"

Steve freezes before shaking his head. "It doesn't."

"Steve-"

"It's just not like that between us, okay?"

Robin stares at him for a few more seconds and quietly says, "You know that it's okay if it is, right?"

Steve nods, not really taking the words to heart. He doesn't feel that way about Eddie. Sure, he likes kissing him and seeing the way he lights up right before they kiss and the way he lingers after but...

It's just not like that.

Steve sighs and looks down. "I'll let you know if anything changes though, okay?"

"Okay," Robin says, sounding a little more satisfied with his answer. "Now you have to help me with my romance problems."

Steve sits back as he listens to Robin rant, trying to ignore the way she still associates him and Eddie with something romantic. And really the kisses are... they're just for good luck... Right?

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve thinks that maybe the kisses are less for good luck the next week after he starts hanging out more and more with Eddie. They've started asking, "A kiss for good luck?" for just about everything - Eddie getting up to get him and Steve two Cokes, Steve grabbing a blanket for them to share, every time they say goodbye, when one of them shifts on the couch or bed to get more comfortable. Anything really.

But now the good luck kisses are no longer verbally prompted. Sometimes, Eddie will look at Steve, and he'll just know he needs the good luck. Or sometimes Steve will look at Eddie, feeling a random need for good luck.

Usually, it never goes beyond the intensity of their first goodbye-good-luck kiss. And they have a mutual silent agreement to have no good luck kisses in front of the kids. Robin is fine - although that comes with a question about his feelings and whatnot which Steve actively likes to avoid.

It's not like he's in denial about the fact he enjoys kissing Eddie. He's just very much in denial about how much he likes kissing Eddie, and he would like to keep it that way until Eddie finds someone else or ends this... whatever they have.

Unfortunately for him, he's forced to think about it when he gets a little too careless during a movie night with The Party.

Everything was going fine really. Steve had even managed to slip three good luck kisses to Eddie when the kids were away from them. And really, they both needed it because dealing with the kids was sometimes hell.

But Steve really had no excuse when he sat down next to Eddie and openly kissed him in front of all the kids. He only realized his mistake when he pulled back and noticed Eddie staring at him with wide eyes.

"Uh, what was that?" Max asks, looking somewhat delighted at the new development.

Steve quickly explains, "It was a good luck kiss."

"See! I told you guys I wasn't lying!" Dustin shouts excitedly at everyone.

Steve and Eddie turn to give him an unimpressed look at the same time.

Dustin holds his hands up as his voice gets a little higher. "What? They didn't believe me when I told them about it before."

"Okay, now we believe you, but what was this good luck kiss even for?" Will asks.

Eddie shifts next to Steve uncomfortably, but Steve easily answers, "Good luck with dealing with you guys. Plus, I needed good luck getting comfortable."

"Good luck getting comfortable?" Lucas clarifies slowly, not even trying to hide his smile.

"Yes," Steve says exasperatedly. "Now can we watch this movie?"

"Are you two dating?" El asks.

Steve tenses up and glances at Eddie.

"No," Mike says, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Friends kiss each other all the time for good luck."

Will shoots him a look. "When we were just friends, didn't you literally ask me for a good luck-"

"Hey," Mike says with wide eyes as he turns red. "Not helping."

"We're not dating," Eddie states and starts the movie, "But we are watching this movie."

Steve feels his heart sink at the confirmation. Why the hell is he so upset about Eddie telling the truth? Because that's exactly what it is. The truth. They're not dating so Steve isn't allowed to get upset.

For the rest of the movie, Steve tries to get into the plot, but he can't when Eddie is sitting right next to him, reminding him of what he said.

When the movie ends, Steve immediately gets up and starts cleaning up the mess left by the kids and hurries off to the kitchen to work on the mess in there too. He needs to call Robin.

He scrubs at the countertops and half-heartedly waves at the kids when they yell their goodbyes and rush out the door. He gets stuck at one spot on the counter that won't give and scrubs at it harshly until a hand rests over his.

"Hey," Eddie says softly. "You okay?"

Steve slowly turns to face him and lies, "Yeah. I'm fine."

Eddie's eyes lower to his lips momentarily, but he doesn't lean in. "Are you sure?"

Steve nods in response and turns back to the counter.

"Um, good luck with this."

"I'm going to need it," Steve says, leaning in to stare at whatever is stuck on the counter. He pauses when he realizes what Eddie just said and turns around. "Good luck with the kids."

"I'm definitely going to need it," Eddie says dramatically huffing.

"I could take half of them, you know."

Eddie shrugs and moves closer to him. "Or you could do something else for me."

"Yeah?" Steve asks with a smile, "And what's that?"

"Give me some extra good luck."

Steve snorts as Eddie smiles brightly at him. But he wraps his arms around his shoulders and says, "Extra good luck coming right up."

And this kiss... it feels... different.

It starts out sweet and slow like usual, just a soft press of their lips together before they readjust to get a better angle. But Steve remembers the extra Eddie requested and runs a hand through Eddie's hair, pressing in closer. Eddie's hands wrap around his waist as he turns and presses his back against the counter.

Steve breaks the kiss with a gasp, needing more air and filled with slight shock as all his feelings for Eddie suddenly rise to the surface. He pulls back to look at Eddie for a second, taking in his blown pupils and pink cheeks as he whispers, "Jesus H. Christ."

Steve doesn't waste a second before he kisses Eddie again, immediately deepening the kiss but cradling Eddie's face in his hands, trying to offset the desperation of the kiss with the gentleness of the touch. He wants to let him know we have more time now. Unlike their first kiss, and unlike any of the other ones that Steve couldn't suck it up and admit were real, this is the start of something new. Something-

A loud car horn goes off outside causing Steve and Eddie to break apart, but they linger in each other's arms, both staring, knowing they have more to say but not the time in this moment.

"I have to go," Eddie whispers.

Steve nods, but neither of them moves.

The horn goes off again, and Steve reluctantly moves away, grabbing Eddie's hand to drag him to the front door. He waits a second and says, "Eddie..."

"I know," Eddie says and leans in to kiss him gently. "I'll be back, okay? As soon as I drop the little demons off."

The car horn goes off multiple times in an obnoxious rhythm that Steve guesses is Dustin's own creation. He kisses Eddie on the forehead and opens the door. "Good luck."

"God, I'm going to need it."

Steve watches as Eddie jogs to the van yelling, "I'm coming! I'm coming! It's not like you guys are near your curfew so zip it!"

Steve smiles as the van takes off and Eddie blows him a dramatic kiss.

As soon as they're out of sight, Steve races to the phone and calls Robin.

"Robin speaking," she answers, sounding as if she wants nothing to do with the call.

"Hey," Steve sighs with relief.

"Thank god. I thought you were going to be some telemarketer or something. What's going on?"

"I have feelings for Eddie," Steve confesses immediately.

There's a rustling sound and Robin sighs, "You finally realized it."

"Shut up."

"You know I'm right."

It's true, but Steve isn't going to admit it.

"So, what made you realize?" Robin asks.

Steve leans back against the counter. "He told the kids we weren't dating which I couldn't let go because it hurt so damn much. Then, I kind of figured out when I basically stuck my tongue down his throat."

"Gross. You know I hate that phrase," Robin complains.

"And that's why I say it," Steve says with a smile that slowly turns into a softer one as he thinks about Eddie. "I think I'm going to ask him out."

"I wonder if he'll say yes," Robin jokes. At least, Steve hopes she's joking.

"That's a joke, right?"

"Yes, dingus. I'm pretty sure you guys have been sort of dating in the form of excuses this whole time."

"Don't make fun of us."

Robin snorts. "I'm not, I'm just stating the facts."

Steve sighs, trying not to give away again that she's right.

"I'm happy for you guys," Robin says with an obvious smile that Steve can hear. "And thank you."

"For?"

"Realizing it before I had to knock some sense into you."

Steve rolls his eyes affectionately, knowing she can probably tell even over the phone.

"And for telling me. Which hey, how are you feeling about it?"

Steve shrugs. "I mean, I'm scared, you know? None of my relationships work out, and I need this one to be different."

"I think it will be, but I was more asking about how you're dealing with the knowledge that you like guys."

Steve huffs, "Yeah, I'm not dumb. I knew I was attracted to Eddie, I just didn't want to get emotions involved. I thought you knew this."

"Hello, I'm the same person who couldn't tell that Vickie was into girls as well."

"That's true," he shifts the phone to his other ear and says, "God, I can't believe we're having this conversation over the phone."

"I prefer it to the dirty Starcourt bathroom floors."

"I don't," Steve says with a fond smile.

"Eliminate all the trauma before that moment, and yeah, maybe I do prefer it. Even on the floor."

"I can drag you into the Family Video bathr-"

"Not a chance, dingus," Robin says immediately.

Steve laughs and pauses before saying, "Thanks for letting me take my time to figure it out. Sorry that I was kind of an asshole before."

"You're always kind of an asshole. It's part of the charm."

Steve smiles and says, "Well, then I'm going to be an asshole and tell you I have to hang up, so I can prepare for this life-altering moment."

"Gosh, you two are both so dramatic. You're absolutely perfect for each other."

“Goodbye, Robin,” Steve sighs.

“I would wish you good luck, but I’m not there to kiss you!”

Steve groans as Robin laughs. “I’m hanging up.” He does just that after he hears Robin shriek with more laughter.

She’s never going to let him live this down. (Not that he minds really.)

When Eddie comes back later, the first thing Steve says is, “I need a major good luck kiss.”

“For what?” Eddie asks with a small smile.

“So this really amazing guy will say yes when I ask him out.”

Eddie smiles and wraps his arms around his waist. “You think I’m amazing?”

“So presumptuous of you, assuming I’m talking about you,” Steve jokes.

Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, yes. I’m talking about you.”

Eddie smiles and says, “Well, I don’t think you need any good luck then.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks with a smile so wide it almost hurts.

“Definitely. But I’m going to give you some extra good luck just in case.”

Steve kisses him with a smile, pulling back immediately to ask, “You’re saying yes, right?”

“I thought I said I was giving you extra good luck first.”

“Eddie.”

“Yes,” Eddie replies and frowns. “But now what am I giving you extra good luck for?”

“Us? Or maybe we could just call it making out.”

Eddie makes a face and sticks his tongue out. “Bleh, no. No making out in this relationship. Just extra good luck giving.”

Steve laughs and leans in. Giving his boyfriend as much good luck as he can.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #getting back into writing #I hate being busy #someone give me some good luck

[augustinewrites]

“sorry i'm late,” you sigh, hurrying into the teacher’s lounge much later than usual. shoko’s the only one there, feet propped up on the coffee table as she flips through a medical journal. you throw your coat over the back of a chair before joining her, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes 

“morning, sunshine.” shoko chuckles, handing you a mug. “this is a double shot, but maybe i should have gotten you a triple? what kept you up last night?”

“nothing," you quickly defend.

“you sure? because i'm not above blocking all the exits until you tell me.”

“you promise not to judge?”

“not out loud.” 

you roll your eyes at your best friend, but wring your hands tightly in your lap as you recall the events of last night. “have you ever had a…a special dream–”

shoko sits up straight, eyes wide as she says, much too loud, “you mean a sex dream?”

“shh!” you swat her on the arm, glaring. 

shoko ignores your obvious distress, grinning from ear to ear. “who are you having sex dreams about? is it ijichi? akari? oh my god, is it me? is it gojo? don’t tell me it’s gojo…”

“i may have been dreaming about…kento.”

“nanami?!”

heat immediately pools in your cheeks. “you can’t tell anyone, especially gojo. and hey, don't say it like that!” 

“i swear i’m not judging!” she promises. “if anything, i approve!”

“ugh,” you groan, heading over to the counter to put your unfinished mug in the sink. “i don’t know what’s going on with me.”

“fantasizing is normal. i’ve fantasized about everyone here. you, nanami, even gojo.”

“seriously?”

she takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. “i'm a scorpio.”

that explains nothing and in no way makes you feel any better. if anything, you’re starting to feel a little possessive over someone who isn't even yours. 

“well i need to stop thinking about him like this,” you mutter, frowning.

“back to your dream. did you guys…do it?”

“shoko!” you gasp, gaze darting to the open door.

“so you did,” she deduces. “was it good?”

it was great. not that you’d tell her. 

“hey, naughty is good. naughty is sexy,” she laughs.

you rest your hip against the counter, shaking your head. “i can’t dream of him like that again. i can’t go on missions with him if i’m having these…inappropriate thoughts.”

“why? cause you want to be his good girl?”

some clears their throat loudly. 

both your heads whip toward the door, where nanami’s standing with his briefcase. “good morning.”

as he walks further into the lounge you wonder two things. first, how much he heard. second, how much force would it take to put your head through the wall–

“excuse me.” your entire body stiffens when a hand is placed on your waist, nanami gently moving you to the side as he grabs a mug from the cabinet. 

memories of last night’s dream invade the crevices of your mind, causing you to quickly step out of his reach. with his back turned you look to shoko for help, who simply makes a circle with her thumb and index finger and–

you feign casualness when nanami turns to face you, sending you a small smile before taking his coffee and making a swift exit.

shoko bursts out laughing as you groan, wishing you could melt into the floor.

_____

“look at them. they're totally talking about us,” gojo mutters, peeking into the teacher’s lounge.

“so?” nanami asks, prying gojo’s hand from his sleeve. 

“so, what do you think they're talking about? oh– oh, shoko just pulled out her phone. maybe they're talking about the thirst trap i posted for–”

nanami grabs the back of gojo’s shirt collar, dragging him away from the door. “why would they be talking about a picture you posted for your fiancée?” 

“because i'm hot–”

“please stop talking.”

“you’re hot too, nanamin! someone’s been giving you the look lately.” 

that makes him pause. “really? what look?”

the sorcerer wriggles out of his grip, an irritatingly wide grin on his face. “got your attention, did i?”

“what did you mean by that? what look?”

“the look. you know, the one where you’re picturing someone naked. fantasizing about them. caught her once while you were cooking us dinner. speaking of, what’s that one dish you made with the…”

nanami tunes out gojo’s nonsensical rambling, focusing on the few important things he’d shared as they walk down the hall. you were picturing him naked?

interesting. 

_____

when you open the front door of your apartment, nanami is standing there with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.

oh no. this is how the fantasies always start. 

“i was on my way home and wondered if you’ve eaten yet.”

you’d eaten two hours ago, but you step back to let him inside and get set up in the kitchen.

soon enough, your little kitchen is filled with the sound and scents of a home cooked meal. nanami is a natural in the kitchen, tossing veggies in a pan and stirring his homemade sauce.

(it almost looks as good as nanami does with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, cooking dinner in your apartment.) 

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when he reaches over to refill your glass. he refills his own, covering the pot and leaving it to simmer as he turns to where you’re perched on the counter.

“i wanted to talk to you about something,” he says suddenly, sweating his glass down. 

“hm?”

“i’m not above a few fantasies of my own.”

you almost choke on your wine. “gojo told you–”

he’s standing between your knees now, taking the glass from your hand and setting it aside. “i fantasize about you too.”

“you do?”

“i could tell you about them,” he suggests, voice dropping to a whisper as the tip of his nose nudges yours. “if you’re a good girl.”

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

[angelfic]

Howdy! Could I request a Theodore Nott, secret relationship, “don’t leave me… please”. ❤️

here u go!! i actually really like this idea and kind of wanna recycle it for a longer fic maybe.. 🤔 thank u for the request! 💌

theodore nott x reader + secret relationship + “don’t leave me… please”

➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game

You’re stressfully stirring sugar into your tea in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place when Mattheo and Theodore turn up, bruised and bloody in the hands of Alastor Moody.

The Auror had sent a message in advance through his Patronus, alerting members of the Order that he was heading to headquarters with two death eater defectors. An hour of hoping it’s who you think, and three cups of tea later, you breathe a sigh of relief when you realise Mattheo and Theo are alive.

The way Theo is leaning his weight on Mattheo doesn’t slip past you, and as soon as he finds you among the others, you rush forward.

“Hi,” Theo whispers, the greeting reserved only for you despite the numerous others in the dining room. His eyes are drooping slightly as he sways on his feet. Nonetheless, he gives you a weak smile. “I’m okay. I promise.”

You nod slowly, brows furrowed in concern despite his reassurance. Ignoring Moody’s confused stares, along with the whispering happening behind you, you do a quick scan of Mattheo and find that he’s definitely had worse injuries from spontaneous fist fights during your years at Hogwarts.

“Are you okay?” you mouth at him, just in case. He winks at you in answer.

Moody, seemingly snapping out of his confusion, turns to you and raises a brow. “You know these two, then?” he asks gruffly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.

“We all went to school together,” Dean Thomas pipes up, saving you from having to stumble over your words in an attempt to explain your relationship with Theo.

There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone in the room suspects you and Theo are more than just schoolmates, but you don’t move to address anything. The implications of you being in love with an ex-death eater aside, it’s none of their business. Moody doesn’t quite seem to accept this immediately.

”School,” he mutters, nodding begrudgingly. “And how well do you-”

“Alastor,” McGonagall cuts him off sharply. Peering at him over her spectacles, she purses her lips. “You can get to interrogating them about being Transfiguration partners after they’ve recovered. These boys need a healer. Now.”

“Yes, yes,” Moody replies grumpily, reluctantly letting them go to open the door to the hall. “We’ve got Poppy in the living room. She’ll fix them up, nice and quick.”

You step back to give the two boys space to make their way to the Healer, but Theo catches your hand and grips it tightly. “No. No, Y/N can do it. Just give her some of the medicine, I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You open your mouth to object, wanting Madame Pomfrey to assess him properly, but the pleading in his eyes has you hesitating.

“Don’t leave me…” Theo’s voice becomes lower, quieter and earnest. “Please.”

“Okay,” you exhale, cupping his face with your hand and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. You look over at Professor McGonagall for confirmation and when she sighs and nods, you respond with a grateful smile before turning back to Theo. “I won’t leave you.”

Mattheo clears his throat, popping the little bubble you and Theo have found yourself in and making you look away, cheeks warm. Walking over to where Moody holds the door open, Mattheo gives you both a knowing look before speaking to the rest of the room. “I guess I‘ll be seeing dear, old Poppy alone then. Nothing she hasn’t fixed before.”

Taking this as your cue to leave, you wrap an arm around Theo’s waist to support him as you make your way out of the room and up the stairs to an empty room. You help him to sit on the bed and disentangle your hand from his, dropping a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I need to go get the stuff from Madame Promfrey, I won’t be a minute-”

“Not yet,” Theo pleads, hooking pinky finger around your own and tugging lightly. “I’m not that injured, just… come here for a second.”

Your resolve crumbles immediately due to not having seen Theo since school ended a month ago, during which he was trying to leave the other side of the war without getting himself killed. You sit next to him on the bed, but he immediately reaches over to manoeuvre you by the waist until your legs are wrapped around him in a straddling position. Theo presses a soft kiss to your lips and the pure love radiating from him makes your heart jump to your throat. When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed and content than he has in months.

“Hi,” he says, a gentle smile playing about his lips while he fingers the hem of your shirt where it sits at your back. Tingles run down your spine where his cold fingers brush against your skin and you end up leaning into his chest even more, causing his smile to deepen. “I missed you, darling.”

“What, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good company?” you tease, tilting your head. Theo scoffs in disgust, lightly tugging on a lock of your hair and looking at you expectantly. “I missed you too, Theo. So, so much. I’m glad you got out.”

“Me too,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. You both stay in silence for a few minutes and you bask in the warmth of Theo’s breaths fanning over your collarbone. He nestles his face into your neck and seems perfectly happy just to stay there when he speaks. “It was torture staying away, you know. I’m never leaving your side again.”

You run your fingers through Theo’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and biting back a smile when he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. “You being glued to me is probably going to make it clear that we’re more than ex-Transfiguration partners, by the way.”

“I bet you anything they all already know,” Theo murmurs distractedly. You frown and sit up straighter to look at him, raising a curious brow in questioning. He looks at you like it’s obvious. “Mattheo is downstairs, unsupervised. If he hasn’t told everyone by now…”

You shake your head, shifting to move off Theo’s lap. A pout forms on his lips, but he reluctantly lets you stand. “I better go do some damage control while I go get the stuff from Pomfrey. Merlin knows what embarrassing things Mattheo is telling them right now.”

“I can think of a few things,” Theo says, his innocent voice contrasting with the devious smirk on his face. “Like the time we were in the Astronomy Tower and you were too loud, so-”

“Right, okay!” you interrupt loudly, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you try your best not to relive that particular memory. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way Theo is cracking up, you smile sweetly at him. “You haven’t had any injuries to the head, have you?”

“No, love,” he replies, grinning. “Why?”

You grab a pillow and swing it into Theo’s face, knocking him backwards on the bed. Crossing your arms in satisfaction, you falter when he stays laying down and moans in pain.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” you rush out, panicked as you move the pillow out of the way to climb onto the bed and hover over him. Theo cracks his eyes open slightly, his face scrunched up in discomfort and your stomach drops. “Theo, where does it hurt?”

“Here, come closer,” Theo winces, gesturing you forward, closer and closer and you furrow your brows in confusion. When you’re close enough, he snakes his hand around to the nape of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t bother admonishing him, your head getting dizzy from the feel of his lips moving against your own. You only pull away when you hear sudden laughter coming from downstairs. Theo doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest when you do. “All better.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes and sitting up again. You make sure you put all of your weight on the mattress to do so, just in case you actually do end up hurting him. “I’m actually going downstairs now, okay? The idea of Mattheo talking to McGonagall is driving me crazier by the minute.”

“Come back quickly?” he asks lightly, but there’s a hint of pleading in the way his hand circles your wrist. You give him a reassuring smile and another quick peck on the lips.

“Always.”

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #Theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x y/n #Theodore nott fluff #theodore nott smut #theo nott #Theodore nott imagines

[animexts]

Please don't die | Megumi Fushiguro

Sumarry: Megumi feels his world crumble when he sees Y/n on the brink of death.

Paring: Megumi X Mother figure!Reader | WC: 2.877

A/N: Well, I'm sorry for any mistakes I made here, I'll review it later. This story, the reader is Gojo's wife.

Main masterlist | jjk Masterlist

────────────────────

Megumi feels her body freeze when she sees Y/n's body being thrown by the curse they were facing.

"Y/n-sensei!" He hears Itadori screaming in the background, but all he can pay attention to is Y/n's bleeding body lying unconscious on the floor.

“It's not your fault”

Is what she would say to him, and then she would give him that smile that manages to relax his whole body.

Y/n was a special grade sorceress, and to Megumi, she was not only the best sorceress, but also the best person.

She was smart, responsible, loving and just the best mother he could ever have.

"Why didn't you fucking take care of her?"

Megumi thinks, clenching her fists with all her strength.

He never thought he would want Gojo's presence as much as he does now.

As if his legs were moving by themselves, he was running over to Y/n and kneeling beside her body.

"Sensei please wake up." He says rocking her gently.

"Sensei please... please don't die mom." He says crying and rubbing his hand on her face.

If he was a little stronger, if he was faster, he never wanted to fulfill the promise he made with Gojo a few years ago so much.

"Listen Megumi, since we're going to share Y/n, you need to promise me that you'll take care of her with your life." Gojo says looking seriously at the Boy.

"She's strong, I don't think she needs my protection." The boy says with his arms crossed. "She's strong yes, but it turns out she'd rather protect those she loves than herself." Megumi looks at Gojo and sighs

"Okay, I promise to protect her"

And during her lifetime, Megumi saw how right Gojo was, Y/n put herself in danger several times to save him or some of the students, both first and second years.

"They're just kids"

Was what she always said.

And unfortunately, that's what was happening now, Y/n spent the day exorcising curses practically alone, as seeing how Itadori and Nobara were still hurt from the previous mission, it sure exhausted her.

"Please Mom, don't leave me too." Megumi says hugging Y/n's body.

He is so desperate, he didn't even notice Gojo coming and finally exorcising the curse.

The Shaman feels his blood run cold when he sees his wife covered in blood, it was even sadder to see Megumi in that state.

"Megumi, let's take her to shoko." Satoru says trying to take his wife from Megumi's arms.

"No! don't take her away from me!" He says holding tighter.

"Come on Megumi, if I take her it will be faster, please is my wife you're holding." Gojo says and Megumi, still reluctant, hands Y/n to Gojo, who immediately leaves.

"Don't worry, Y/n sensei Is one.of the strongest people I've ever met, well she and Gojo sensei." Itadori says putting his hand on Megumi's shoulder.

The strongest couple

Megumi remembers perfectly well only the day when Gojo introduced Y/n to him and his sister. Unlike Gojo, Y/n was responsible, more serious and easier to talk to.

"Here you are, my beautiful wife Y/n!" Gojo says putting his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm not your wife." Y/n says pushing him, and bending down to be at the children's height.

"You're not YET"

"Hi, don't worry, me and this idiot here will take good care of you two." Y/n says, and gives the kids a warm smile.

And that's what she's been doing since they met, Megumi thinks, no, rehash that, he KNEW he wouldn't be the man he is today if it weren't for Y/n's (and Gojo's, of course) incredible upbringing.

"You're worried about sensei aren't you?" Nobara says, as the three walk back to the school.

"I'm sure you don't have to worry, she's pretty tough!" Itadori says smiling.

"I hope you're right." Megumi says, and feels her palms sweat when they arrive at school, and see Gojo sitting on the stairs.

"Look who's here! It took you a while huh." Gojo says standing up and Megumi sighs in relief.

Even though he knows that his sensei is very good at hiding his feelings, he knows that the feeling of losing his wife, best friend, could not be hidden.

Gojo looks at him and sees the anguish on his face.

"She's fine, she's in there resting." He says, and Megumi's face turns red.

"I knew!" Itadori says jumping up.

"You two can go rest, Megumi and I are having a family reunion here with Miss Saves Everyone's Life." Gojo says, and he and Megumi head to their rooms.

"I'm sorry sensei, I couldn't protect her as I should have and as I promised you." Megumi says as the two walk to their rooms.

"I know how much you love her, and you tried to protect her, just like I know how stubborn my wife is, when she wants to protect someone, nobody can stop her." Gojo says and notices that Megumi has clenched her fists.

"I thought you were used to her craziness by now." Satoru says trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to the feeling of almost losing her."

"Me neither" Gojo thinks.

Gojo knocks on the door, and opens it carefully, Megumi almost cries when she sees the state of the woman who always conveys that powerful and independent aura.

"Gumi!" Y/n speaks softly but with happiness in her voice when she sees the younger boy.

"Sensei..." He says quietly, as he doesn't trust his voice anymore.

"Oh Gumi, I was so worried about you." She says with teary eyes.

"I... I'm sorry sensei, I couldn't protect you like I should have." Megumi bows with her eyes closed, making Gojo and Y/n look at him in surprise.

"What are you talking about? I should protect you Gumi, I know I'm not your blood mother but-"

"Don't finish that sentence, you are my mother, and I owe you my life you've protected me my whole life, I want to protect you now... mom." Megumi says crying.

"Oh my love come here." Y/n says opening his arms, making the younger boy immediately fall into the woman's embrace, just like when he was younger.

"You'll always be my baby." Y/n says and kisses Megumi's head, you might think he wouldn't like it, but coming from her, he almost cries from her affection.

"I think for the sake of my sanity, and Megumi's, you better stop giving your life for others, because baby I swear that if you die, the world will gain two crazy mad sorcerers." Gojo says taking off his blindfold.

"And we don't want that right?" Y/n says laughing.

"No, definitely not." Megumi responds by laughing too.

Gojo and Y/n look at each other smiling fondly, they were doing a good job.

"Family hug!" Gojo says lying on top of Megumi.

"You're going to hurt Y/n you freak, get out of here." Megumi says trying to push Gojo away.

They weren't the most perfect family of all, but there was more love than many out there.

────────────────────

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jjk gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #anime