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obsessive-ego · 4 years ago

Text

Just go with it

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Lewd mentions

Beetlejuice needs you to pretend to be his fiance or he's in trouble

"Babes?"

...

"Babes, wake up"

....?

"Y/n wake up"

What?

Was your first thought as you are shaken awake by the ghost who has made your home his, you mumble out something unintelligible as you grope around for your phone, you cringe as the bright light of the screen blinds you, as your eyes adjust to the light you groan, 4am.

"Beetlejuice, what-"

"Okay, babes, no time to explain but I need you to pretend to be my fiance" despite the odd statement beetlejuice sounded a tad worried.

"What?"

"Long story short I may have said a few things to some guys, and if we dont pull this off I will be dragged back to the netherworld" the ghoul whispered dragging you out if bed.

"Oh" was all you could muster is your drowsy state.

"So theres a suit from the netherworld waiting to meet you, in your living room, now" beetlejuice continued rubbing the back of his neck.

You sigh and shuffle about your room, slipping on slippers and giving your hair a quick once over, as you reach for your housecoat beetlejuice swats away your hand.

"Bee-"

Beetlejuice drops his jacket around your shoulders "this will work much better babes, we need to sell this"

You groan, you were too tired for this, thank god you didnt work in the morning, who knows how long this shit is gonna take, but as tired as you were you couldnt let whoever take your ghost back to the netherworld.

"Okay you're my fiance, I proposed a week ago, and you're head over heels for me, that last part wont be hard to fake huh doll?" The ghoul gives you a wink, you sigh.

"Wait, almost forgot" the ghoul snaps his fingers, you feel a light squeeze on you right handed middle finger.

Upon your finger appears rather tacky, pretty ring, the band was black and white, and resembled a snake, the gem was a brilliant green, you honestly felt your heart squeeze when you saw it, to be honest staring at the ring felt like a dream, maybe because you just woke up? It was beautiful, and the idea of it being for real kinda hurt knowing it was for pretend, but those feelings didnt matter right now, Beej needed you to help him avoid being dragged back to the netherworld, you can think about those depressing emotions later.

The two of you leave the bedroom, beetlejuice takes the lead as you shuffle behind.

As the two of you enter the living room you could help but pause and stare at the 'suit' beej claimed that was waiting for you.

In your little arm chair sat a fairly tall skeleton man, his bones a blueish hue, wearing a lime green suit that looked fresh off the rack, guess not all dead guys wore dirty clothes, in all honesty this was your first time seeing another dead person aside from the maitlands and beetlejuice, they were human, beej was humanish, but this guy looked like he walked out of a cartoon.

"Sorry for the wait, you know breathers, they need to sleep" beetlejuice cackled snapping you from your thoughts "well there's y/n, theres the ring, and theres the door, feel free to use it" beetlejuice snears, wanting to get this whole thing done with, yes he adored messing with you, and with different circumstances this could have been funny, but too much was on the line for him and you were an awful liar, he loved you sure, but theres no way you could pull off lying.

"Y/n I presume?" The skeleton gestures to you, completely ignoring beetlejuice, you nod "its pleasure to put a face to the name, I apologize for the rude awakening, when you've been dead for as long as I have, you tend to lose the meaning of time, my dear this wont take long, we just need to clear up some loose ends then you can get back to your rest" the skeleton gestures you to sit on the couch next to beetlejuice who has already made himself comfortable.

You gently sit down next to BJ who was quick to drape an arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side.

The skeleton pulls out a clipboard from his jacket and flips through the pages

"Lawrence B Shoggoth, y/n m/n l/n, I have requested an audience with you two to clear up some issues with Lawrence's recent updated paper work, not to mention a handful of rumours that need to be put to bed" the ghoul flips through the papers "it says here the y/n you are Lawrence's spouse, is that true?"

You nod

"You see y/n, Lawrence here cant be trusted at face value, so that is why I must converse with you on the matter, so you are his fiance correct?"

"Yes"

"I see, now how long have the two of you known each other?"

"About a year or so" you shrug

"Mmmhmm" the ghoul scribbles down something and continues "now when did he propose to you?"

"Last week" this was so anxiety inducing, for a man with no eyeballs it sure felt like he was staring into your soul.

"Now what drawn you to such a, oh how do I put this, such a man?"

You hear beetlejuice huff out as if he was insulted.

"Well, beetlejuice may be rough around the edges, and can be a dick at times, but he's great company, hes funny, witty, has great taste in movies, and he makes me smile, hes also, well, he's also good looking too" you look away from both parties, as you were clearly embarrassed over what you said, it was the truth, but it still made your face burn.

Beetlejuice leans forward, looking in your direction, eyes wide and mouth a gape, his hair now a bright pink.

"Mr Shoggoth, you look surprised at y/n's words" the ghoul grabs Beetlejuice's attention.

"Heh, you see y/n is the shy type, hearing that type a thing is rare and ALWAYS gets my attention". Beetlejuice slicks his hair back removing the pink and resetting it to its default green.

"Mmmmhmmm" was the ghoul's only response as attention was drawn back to you.

"So y/n you truly are betrothed to Lawrance, you want to be wed to him on purpose?" The skeleton's tone was almost surprised, as if beetlejuice was the most revolting creature in existence and you wanting, out of your own free will to be bound to such a thing, was the most insane thing he has ever herd.

You nod, beetlejuice gives the skeleton a smug toothy grin.

"This isnt a joke, nor is he blackmailing or threatening you?" His tone sounded desperate, as if he needed to prove beetlejuice was lying for his own good.

You only shake your head, while beetlejuice surpresses a laugh

"Ya see bone head? I'm innocent~" he chuckles, squeezing you close to his side.

"Y/n you are aware of what you're doing for Lawrence correct?" The skeleton sounded almost smug, you only stare back, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You see y/n, you are doing Lawrence here a huge favor, when the dead marry the living, they are able to walk the earth like you do, you are granting him life, something he has never had, this is why we must confirm with you, that you understand what he's doing" the skeleton gestures to beetlejuice, the demon only rolls his eyes in response.

"I know"

Attention is drawn to you

"I know all about that life giving thing, beetlejuice told me about it"

"Well you see y/n, this isnt the first time Lawrence has-"

"I know, I was told, by him and the person he tried to marry the first time, small world huh"

The skeleton pauses for a moment then coughs into his fist, as if to regain his composure after being surprised, he continues "I see, Lawrence has been honest with you, I didnt think he had it in him"

Beetlejuice snarls at the comment, tips of his hair turning red.

"Just a few more loose ends y/n then you can return to your rest" the skeleton flips through his papers "ah, Lawrence, y/n may have been couched, and since you seem so eager to speak, I do have a few things I need to clarify with you, if the two of you are in love as you say and this isnt a farce, you would know plenty about your future spouse, when was y/n born?" The skeleton snears as if hes caught you two red handed

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "easy *birthday day and year* hell I woke them up with some early morning birthday head"

You cover your face in embarrassment at that comment, yet you were surprised he knew the year.

"Correct, and might I saw congratulations on a LEGAL partner this time"

Beetlejuice rolls his eyes at the low blow before grumbling "it was a green card thing"

The skeleton ignores Beetlejuice's comment and continues "what drew you to this breather? And please keep it out of the gutter"

Beetlejuice huffs "spoil sport, y/n here is one of the kindest, sweetest, softest breather I ever met, they let me do whatever I want, they want me around, no stings attached, they got great taste, just look at the company they keep, and let me tell ya, the first time we met they sucker punched me in the jaw for scaring them, and I've been dreaming of that swing ever since"

You just stare at the ghoul, he remembered that? He remembered how he first met you? When lydia locked you in the basement and he jumped out at you, successfully scaring you but earning himself a fist in the jaw, wow. Your face felt hot remembering that, what a frist impression.

The night droned on and on with dull questions the suit had lined up to prove beetlejuice was lying, but every question had an appropriate answer, and the skeleton knew he could not prove anything as the night went on.

Low on patience and time he decided call it quits.

The skeleton pushes his clipboard back into his jacket and sighs "I appreciate your time y/n, thank you for your cooperation, and Lawrence, I look forward form your departure of death, a short vacation from you is the pick me up I deserve" the skeleton raises up from your chair and walks over to a wall on the other side of the room, you watch him draw a door, and knock 3 times, you're livingroom wall opens up to the netherworld. You freeze at the sight, you always felt uneasy seeing the netherworld portal open up, maybe it was a living thing? As if beetlejuice felt your discomfort he pulls you into a side hug, grounding your anxiety, you give a sigh of what feels like relief.

The skeletontirns to face the two of you "Before my departure, y/n I do have one final thing to ask you, can you kiss Lawrence for me?"

"What?" You gawk in confusion

Beetlejuice snorts out a laugh "what? You the type of guy who gets off on watching others get hot and heavy, I mean I feel ya, but if you insist, I can help a guy out" beetlejuice is quick to cup your face "give daddy some sugar~" he purrs puckering up to go in for the kiss.

"Lawrence you misunderstand me, I ask y/n, if you two are truly betrothed, shy or not, y/n shouldnt have any issues kissing their lover" the skeleton gestures to you, without eyeballs or eyebrows he sure wore a smug face, as if he found you two out.

Beej snorts out his nose, great, he's fucked, theres no way you could sell this now, the ghoul had to take the lead and try to steer this away from what this bureaucrat wants "Shy or not, my little sex pot here isnt too keen on others watching, believe me, I tired, the only thing they wont do in the bedroom-"

"Bee, it's fine" you interject, gently grabbing the demons sleeve, he looks at you mouth agape, green slowly blossoming into pink in his face and hair.

"You mind leaning down honey?" You ask softly, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, yes beetlejuice has kissed you more times then you could remember, and yes, youd be lying if you didnt enjoy them, but taking the lead? That was new, and to have someone watching? Not to mention if you dont make this look good he's gonna take beetlejuice away.

Beetlejuice on the other was practically glowing pink, and vibrating with excitment, not to mention drooling.

You gently cup the demons face, running your thumbs across his stubble, you swore you could hear the demon purring, you take a deep breath through your nose before closing the gap between the two of you.

Beetlejuice's hands find homes for themselves, on in your hair, the other on the center of your back. Your hands move from the demon's face and bury themselves in his messy hair, gently giving his head a scratch, you squeak with surprise as the ghoul lifts you up from the ground, instinct kicks in nd you wrap you legs around his waist, lips still locked with his, you feel his tongue probing at you mouth, begging for your permission to enter, you oblige, his tongue wasnt new to you, you felt it a handful of times, running up the side of your face when the ghoul was trying to get your attention mostly, but in your mouth?

It was long, and big, and kind of cold, it easily took the lead, exploring your mouth.

You push on Beetlejuice's chest to notify him you needed to breath, the two of pull your lips part from each others, a thin line of saliva still connecting the two of you.

"Oh Lawrence" you sigh

The demon now completely electric pink, still holding you up growls before asking "couch?"

You hum out "yes"

Before the ghoul flops backwards on the couch, having you sit on top of him, you give his tie a quick yank and he groans in response.

"Oh doll, you're lucky you dont work tomorrow, cuz I want you to ride me all night~"

"Ahem!"

The two of you freeze for a moment, beetlejuice snickers at your face, clearly embarrassed, you pause for a moment, swallowing your shame before addressing the ghoul who was still here

"You're still here?" Was all you manged to breath out

"I mean I'm into it, but y/n? Not so much, and they clearly arent into you watching so" beetlejuice snorts, trying to wave the skeleton off so the demon could relax.

"I see, y/n you clearly are attracted to him, and understand all the consequences of marrying the dead, I declare that Lawrence B Shoggoth was, in fact, telling the truth, this should be a holiday, such a rare occasion" the skeleton trailed off as he walked into the netherworld, you only watched as he vanished and the walls of your little apartment rearranged themselves like it never happened.

You sat top beetlejuice for a moment, sighing over dodging the bullet of losing your, very dear friend, you may or may not be head over heels for.

You're reminded of where you were sitting with a familiar pinch on your butt.

"Hey honey~" the ghoul purrs

You jerk up at recalling the situation you're in, beetlejuice groans at you movement

"Careful sweets, keep moving like that and you'll turn this semi into a boner" he snorts out a chuckle.

You're quick to get off the demon, though he did grunt in protest, before sitting back up and pulling a couch cushion over his lap, despite how crude he was, he did have SOME common courtesy.

As much fun as it would have been for the demon to tease you on your rather hot actions, he noticed how your attention wasnt on him, rather then you were staring at the wall that was once the door to the netherworld.

"So we did it?" Was all you seemed to whisper

"Yup, I got to hand it to you babes, you did quite a good job fooling that stiff"

You turn back to the demon and give him a soft smile feeling completely relieved.

"You know it's funny y/n, you're a terrible liar, and you sure as hell cant act, you got way too many tells, but yet, I didnt see a single twitch nor did I hear a single stutter, why's that?~" you knew that tone oh too well, it was the 'I know something embarrassing about you' tone, it was smug yet made your legs turn to jelly.

"I guess when it comes down to really important stuff i guess i can-" you stammer while fiddling with the hem of your shirt

"I dont think so dolly" beej was quick to interrupt "babes, you've been wearing my jacket the whole time, I've seen you keep glancing down at the ring, and fuck me, the amount of fire in that kiss, someone like you cant fake that"

You refuse to look his way, this was one hell.of a way to come clean with your feelings, a heavy silence fills the room, though you're pretty sure beetlejuice could hear your heart pounding away.

As if the ghoul could sense your discomfort, he sighs "ya know babes, it's pretty late, and breathers need to sleep, so how bout you head back to bed and I'll finish grilling you in the morning"

Glancing back at beetlejuice you could see the flicks of purple appearing in the pink mess of his hair, you give the ghouls half hearted smile, as you go to take off the jacket he raising his hand motioning you to stop

"Its gonna be cold tonight babes, how bout you keep it warm for me?"

"Oh, alright, night Bee, glad I could help you" you wave off as you head to your bedroom to over think what just happened.

Beetlejuice groans when he hears the familiar sound of your bedroom door closing, he was so close to getting a real confession out of you, but tomorrow morning is gonna be pretty dangerous for you, he sighs removing the pillow from his lap, he had a more pressing matter to attend too, and with your taste on his tongue and the beautiful imagine of you on top of him yanking at his tie, this 'problem' wont take long to deal with.

Bonus

The next morning was quite awkward, beetlejuice wasnt kidding about grilling you in the morning, but at least what felt like an interrogation last night, now felt like childish teasing

"Bee, can I ask you something about last night?"

The ghoul beams with excitement at your question "anything you want babes"

"If we would have failed, what would have happened to you, you said you would have been dragged back to the netherworld and" you pause hoping the ghoul would fill in

"Oh, yeah, if we would have got caught I would have had to spend a week in the netherworld with my mother fixing this paperwork and just being chewed out, a nightmare babes, we dodged a bullet" he raises his hand for a high five as if to congratulate you on helping him out

"What, I'm sorry what"

Beetlejuice lowers his hand and frowns at your response

"Beetlejuice I was worried sick, I thought they were gonna take you away forever, i was terrified if i fuck up I'd never see you again, like what am i supposed to do without you?! I dont want you to leave me" you practically screamed

Beetlejuice only started at you, slowly soaking in what you said

'I dont want you to leave me'

His blank stare slowly shifts to a smile, flicks of pink appearing in his hair "dont worry sugar, you're stuck with me"

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader

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physicalturian · 4 years ago

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[G] My Prince - Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader

[Spoilers for : Shadow and Bone; Siege and Storm; Run and Rising] [No spoilers for : King of Scars ; Rule of Wolves; Six of Crows; Crooked Kingdom]

[She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 9569 Archive of our own

Tags : Flirting / War / Fluff / PTSD / Cuteness / Awkwardness / Soft / Love confession

Request stated : Hi ! Could you do a Nikolai Lantsov x reader request ? Where they are in love and have been together since she joined his crew after running away from the Little Palace but then everything happens and they break up because he has to marry Alina and then after he becomes human again and the Darkling is killed they get back together.

- - -

Everything happened so fast, the attack on the Little Palace by The Darkling, the explosions, the blinding light from the roof, all my fallen friends on the ground bathing in their own blood. Names were screamed in despair; we all retaliated the best we could, but we were outnumbered by far. I did not know what were those things that came flying straight for me, but I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by fear. I tried to get out of the way, no matter how many times I told myself to dodge, I couldn’t. And yet, I saw the demon-like bird’s claws pass right next to me, only grazing my cheek as I was thrown out of its way.

“Now, I understand those creatures are fascinating, but they’re not exactly the friendliest,” I heard next to me, a hand gripping my arm tightly. I couldn’t move, but felt a gloved hand turned my face and look at me, “You!” “Your knight in shining armor, the honor was all mine,” The blond said with a smirk, but there was still urgency behind it.

Looking around quickly, he told me to hide behind one of the trees and came back with a few other Grisha before hurrying us back to what looked like a flying ship. I wanted to stare at it a moment before the man lifted me off the ground, “I know it’s impressive, they all say that, but now’s not the time to look,” He said in a light, playful even, yet serious tone as he helped me on deck, he once more told me to stay, maybe even sit then left.

This was my first encounter with Nikolai Lantsov, the bastard son, the witty only living heir to the throne of Ravka.

I did not remember much of that night until I got on the ship, I know I was brought of change of clothes, my red kefta was a tone deeper, wetter than it used to be. When I placed my hand on the fabric, and looked at my palm, blood stared right at me. I did not know what to say, and only stared at it until a hand placed a wet washcloth on mine. “Unless the Little Palace hid blood-sucking people in their basement, which I wouldn’t be surprised of, and you’re hungry- then it’d be better to clean yourself up, dear.”

“I’m not a vampire.” I uttered before grabbing the cloth from his hand and slowly getting the blood off myself, taking off the kefta, I still had clothes underneath, but I did feel the frilly temperature of the night. I throw a glance at the prince and found him looking anywhere but at me, “Why aren’t you looking?”

He huffed, a smug smile adorning his features, “Is that a request? If so, I’ll gladly-“ “No, not a request. Just curious.” I replied with a huff. I couldn’t help the tired smile on my lips as I dipped the cloth back in the water to finish removing the blood before putting on the clean clothes I was offered. “I might be known as the bastard son, but I still have the education of a prince,” He paused. “But don’t worry, I’ll gladly look when you’ll ask for it-“

“Gross, no thank you,” I glanced at him and nodded, “But thank you for the clothes. I should probably… do something-” Then I remembered, my eyes widened when the penny dropped, I quickly scrambled to my senses and got up, giving the best curtsy I could muster in this state, “Your highness, your highness, pardon my being improper I-“ He shook his head and stood up, laughing charmingly but also what seemed to be exhausted. “Don’t, right now call me Nikolai, some call me Too-Clever fox,” A smile made its way on his lips, “But you can also call me handsome, pretty face,”

Laughing, I interrupted him, “I think Nikolai is a fine name, I’ll be sure not to remind you of your title, your high- Nikolai.” He looked at me for a moment, his mouth widening into a grin as he asked me my name. When I told him, he shook his head and held my hand gently, “I think ‘gorgeous’ suits you better,” he then pressed a kiss on my knuckles. I pulled my hand away, rolling my eyes.

“Call me as you please, I do not really care,” When he was about to reply, Zoya called him, if not pressed him, to come, saying they had to talk. I was ready to leave, but he pulled my hand once again, “Ah, duty does not wait, but my heart does, hopefully you will?” I scoffed and swatted his hand away, “I’ll be going, no one makes Zoya Nazyalensky wait, you should hurry if you do not wish to be thrown overboard.” I said playfully before leaving.

This was the extent of my first encounter with Nikolai Lantsov.

We encountered one another a lot more, but those happened at night. I kept having dreams of the attack on the Little Palace. I would wake up in the middle of the night, breathless, sweating, and unable to go back to sleep. Not wanting to wake the people around me, I’d go back on deck, there would be squallers and inferni, making the ship work, while the prince would be sitting with plans in front of him. A thoughtful expression on his face. I blamed my tired state for the first time the thought crossed my mind, but under the moonlight, his expression determined and focused… He was almost handsome.

I must have stared too long that time, he lifted his head from the plans and looked at me curiously before smiling and beckoning me to come closer. I turned around to leave but he called my name, I couldn’t ignore it, or perhaps was it because he was royalty and I felt like I couldn’t ignore him. So, I joined him, sat by his side and did not say anything. He was the one to start the conversation, “The dreams are the worst, but you get used to it, for what it’s worth. I have them every night, from the front.”

“Is that why you are awake, my prince?” I did not realize I had used his title; I was overcome with exhaustion and couldn’t think straight. I heard him chuckled, “War does not wait, gorgeous. We need a plan of attack,” I looked at him a moment, then at his plans. “And where do you think we’ll find the resources to build this? Ravka is overcome with debts,”

This is when he started ranting, with eagerness, about what he had planned. What was going to happen, the steps to follow, I listened intently, finding it almost endearing how passionate he was about it but forgot that thought as I fell back asleep.

I did apologize when I woke, about falling asleep, telling him it wasn’t boring, but that I was exhausted. He tutted me and added, “Nonsense, I enjoyed watching you sleep, did you know you snor-“ “I do not snore. And it’s definitely creepy to watch someone sleep, my prince.” He only laughed in response. Something in my stomach churned, I shouldn’t be friendly with him, but it felt easy to be as such with him.

He had this easiness about him, this charm that one couldn’t help but let themselves be drawn to. It was a useful skill if he were to become King of Ravka, a skill that he had honed throughout years of… What had the young prince been doing these past few years? I never saw him inside the palace, as if he wasn’t even there. But he hadn’t been doing nothing, he seemed full of resources.

While I pondered some more, I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up, Zoya gestured for me to get up and to look. As I did, I saw a gorgeous looking building made of glass, “What is that place? Did you know it existed?” I asked her in awe, she only shook her head before adding that the prince was full of surprises and for now it was useful, but she was keeping an eye on him.

“I do like to keep a few tricks up my sleeve, it comes in handy when I want to see that look of surprise on the face of pretty women,” Two sighs followed his words, one from Zoya and another from me before we moved away from him and made our way to slightly unsteady lift that led us deeper inside what Nikolai introduced to us as the Spinning Wheel. I did not feel safe underground, and yet, when our feet met the ground, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from my chest.

This place was foreign to me, I was used to the safety of the Little Palace’s walls, knowing all that was happening, when it’d happen. When the attack had happened, that routine had been disrupted and I knew it was never coming back. It was the beginning of something big, something I did not want to get used to. And yet, right now, between these gorgeous walls, with people running around, crates in hands, sweat dripping from their foreheads as if they had been working non-stop, and with few peoples I knew… I felt safer. Not entirely safe, but a step closer to feeling such.

“You do like to daydream, I can’t blame you, I am quite the sight,” Said the blond prince as he joined my side, looking where I was looking. I felt his shoulder hit mine and shuffled away, still wanting to put some distance between a man I knew I should fear for he had power where I had not. “I got lost in thoughts. I’m still trying to take in what this all means,” I said softly, meeting the blonde’s joyous gaze, when he met mine, he seemed to be shaken only for a moment before fondness replaced the excitement.

“It’s something big, bigger than all of us,” he started, making me sigh in loss of hope, as I mumbled, “What are we even doing if it’s impossible to win?” It made the prince laugh as he grinned at me. I did not like how lightly he was taking the situation and was about to give him a piece of my mind when he said, “When people say impossible, they mean improbable,” “We lost the only possible person who could take the Darkling, I don’t see Alina anywhere around,” I stated, my arms open wide as I turned around to emphasize her missing.

“Being optimistic is sometimes very close to being delusional, my prince, I do not buy that bullshit attitude of yours-“ “Hope is what keeps us alive. Soldiers and Grisha alike, we’re all tired, exhausted even and even though you do not appreciate that bullshit attitude of mine, it is what we all need.” He said in a very political way, with that charming smile, “And even without the sun summoner, I’m pretty sure I can outwit that old geezer,” He said in full confidence, almost puffing his chest as he said so.

“What we need is to be better prepared, they did not teach us how to fight at the Little Palace,” I paused and observed the young prince a moment, “When you become King, you should change that, because this is only the beginning, my prince,” Before I could leave to join Zoya that I could see at one of door, not only did she disappear out of sight, but I felt the King grab my wrist. Scowling, I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, “Grisha will be training with soldiers, you will not go unprepared,”

His tone was serious, then a smug smile drew itself on his lips as he let go of my wrist, “But what did I tell you, gorgeous? Call me Nikolai, this situation does not call for formalities,” He was changing topic, perhaps he did not want to talk about such matters with me, or perhaps he wanted a change of air. I played along and gestured for him to walk with me, “Well, Nikolai, if you could show me to the Grisha quarters-“ “Oh it’s now mixed rooms, hope you do not mind,” He threw me a playful grin, “If you do, I shall let you know that I am the owner of a single room. Now, it’s close to the King and Queen’s room, but I’ll be sure to ask the fabrikators to help with the acoustic, the King does snore very loudly,”

I rolled my eyes, hopefully hiding that I thought he meant something else with the acoustic. We didn’t talk more afterwards, for I did not ask him any other question and he seemed to understand I was not in the mood to talk. The situation we were in stressed me out and talking about it in details did not help. When he led me to my shared room, he slipped away to meet up with Zoya along other Grisha and soldiers.

I never considered taking him up on his offer of the single room.

While everyone trained during the day, and it was tiresome, so tiresome that I would pass out the moment my head would hit the pillow, I would still wake up during the night. My body almost shaking in fear. I could still see those screeching creatures coming for me, the dread I felt that night, bodies surrounding me. Blue, red or purple, it did not matter, every kefta had ended up tainted in blood. We were taught to use our power, promised safety but never taught to deal with such things.

Running a hand on my face, I got out of bed without a sound and made my way out once more. If every night was going to end up like this, I might as well find a quiet spot to sleep and give my room to someone who could use it, I thought as I tightened my kefta around my form. I walked up the stairs to, hopefully, find peace and calm down by staring at the stars. I let out a sigh of relief when I found nobody there and sat against the wall to look up the stars.

I do not know how long as stayed there, trying to steer my thoughts away from the depressing feelings I was feeling, and it was hard, I could barely manage it. When I remembered a good memory, I was reminded that the friend I shared it with was laying on the ground, dead. I tried not to cry, I promise, but failed. My peace was interrupted by someone clearing their throat nearby. I turned around and instinctively tightened my fist, slowing their heart before I could see who it was.

I let go just as fast when I saw the blond prince in front of me, he breathed out heavily, “Usually, I’m the one who has the ladies say ‘my heart stopped’ but dare I say, you left me breathless,” he scoffed humorously. I rushed to his side, wiping my tears away, apologizing as I patted his chest, his arms, anything, I did not know what to do. “I’m fine, don’t you worry gorgeous. It takes a lot more than that to take me down, I’m quite resilient, something the King never quite liked.” I squinted my eyes, not knowing what it meant before stepping back.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t the brain of the war be resting?” I asked with my arms crossed over my chest. It made Nikolai chuckle, “You flatter me, I am indeed smart and do require sleep,” He paused. “I should also let you know, I have people on watch who warn me of the whereabouts of everyone here. You can imagine my surprise to hear you sneaked out at this hour, gorgeous.”

Sighing, I turned around and sat back where I was, “I feel like you’re not going to leave until I tell you,” I pondered out loud, nodding, Nikolai joined me saying I was very right then added, “But I’m fairly confident I can guess what’s bothering that pretty mind of yours,” I quirked a brow at the blond, wordlessly telling him to go ahead. “The nightmares are not going to leave just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “I know… I know… I’m just trying to clear my thoughts, I can’t fall back asleep when I wake up from that,”

“You did not seem to have any trouble on deck,” He pondered out loud, his eyes observing all my moves. I looked straight ahead, not wanting to let him read me. I shrugged, brought my knees to my chest and rested my arms on it to lay my head on them. “I guess my focus was on you and not my thoughts, maybe that’s why… it doesn’t matter though,” Turning my head, I looked him up and down, and changed topic, “Sorry again for the,” I moved my hands vaguely, talking about moments ago when I slowed his heart, “Thing, you startled me,”

He laughed and shoved his hand in the pocket of his coat, pulling out a notebook and a pen, “It’s all in the past, we can go back to you loving the sound of my voice so much you fall asleep to it,” “I did not say that,” Opening his notebook, he started doodling as he spoke, “No need to, I reckon it’ll be demonstrated when you’ll fall asleep once more as I start explaining this great idea I had with David earlier this afternoon, it’s underwater boats and…” If someone asked me, I’d say I was bothered by the prince’s presence.

But no one asked. It was just me and my thoughts, and his presence was secretly welcomed. He was funny to be around, light-hearted. I know behind all of this, was a man riddled with responsibilities, problems and perhaps as much stress as I was. But maybe we both needed this, someone else to simply hang out with. Not talk about the civil war, simply enjoy one another’s presence. I do not know what I brought him, if anything I thought he’d want to leave.

But he stayed. We met up like this almost every night, on this very spot.

It became close to a habit, when I’d wake up during the night and sneak out of my room, I’d see the blond leaning against the door frame, a smile on his lips. He’d wave at me before following my steps. Sometimes he’d remark how I was earlier or late, I’d just laugh it off and gesture for him to just follow. One night he suggested we’d perhaps take blankets, adding that as much as he enjoyed those little escapades of ours, he would rather avoid losing his toes. Since that night, there was a crate outside with blankets.

Tonight, I’d taken upon myself to bring a book too. I felt bad, falling asleep when Nikolai would enthusiastically rant, it did not stop him from talking though. He would often mumble to himself or ask me questions I couldn’t answer but I’d try nonetheless, making him think before his face would light up as if he had the greatest idea. He would resume his scribbling.

Tonight, however, he went silent, when I looked his way, I saw he was reading over my shoulder, I quickly placed my hand on the pages and closed the book. He whined, going for the book, “Come on, it was getting to the best part,” When I felt his cold hand touch mine, I simply let him take the book and shrugged, my face warming up, I was not going to play tug war to keep my book. His face was startled for a moment, if not hurt.

I felt bad. I did not mean it as anything bad, I simply got caught off guard. And I also knew the feelings that had started developing within me and knew I could not act on it nor let myself believe anything would happen. He was royalty, he was a war leader… he was funny, and brought warmth to my cold, cold, heart.

So, I chuckled nervously, “Your hands are cold, my prince-“ “Nikolai, it’s Nikolai. I’d think you’d remember it by now considering the many nights we’ve spent together, most women would remember it by the end of the first night,” He said charmingly, as he opened the book on the right page on my lap and leaned back against the wall to face his notes.

“Am I most women? I find myself to be quite different from others, the nightmares add to the charm do they not? I even thought we had something special,” I said in a jokingly dramatic manner as I turned a page and waited anxiously for his reply, inside I regretted saying anything. Why did I want him to tell me we had something? I was being delusional, this was but companionship, we both had trouble sleeping and found one another’s company enjoyable, that was all. Pure, platonic companionship.

I heard him chuckle and dared look his way, I felt my face warm up when I saw him looking at me with a huge smile as he was leaning on his fist, his elbow resting on his knee. He looked slightly stupid in this position, but also cute. “I think I found the pattern; all things have a pattern. It’s only a matter of finding it to understand,” I quirked a brow at his words and closed the book on my lap, making sure to put the bookmark. “For example, I like my women strong and hard to get,” I felt my heart skip a beat but only rolled my eyes in response.

“How charming, where are you getting at, my prince- Nikolai,” He made a victory sound, and leaned forward, pointing at me with his index as his grin widened. “This, exactly this, oh this is good,” He said excitedly. I couldn’t help the small smile on my lips. I was waiting for him to develop, “Tell me if I’m wrong, gorgeous, but I think you’ve fallen for my charms.”

I raised my brows in surprise and hid my embarrassment by simply questioning, “That’s quite the reach, I do wonder how you came to the conclusion,”

That cocky smile never left his lips, he grabbed my book and set it down on the ground, then resting his hand next to it as he leaned in. I leaned back. “I’ll wait longer, I need to test that theory first, I’ll keep you up to date gorgeous,” He winked, brought my knuckle to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss on it before returning to his thinking.

This time he talked loud enough for it to be thought a conversation, which ruined my reading plans. I rested my head on my knees and looked at him as he talked. It was a close call, maybe I should be more careful with what I do if he knew I liked him. I was not going to abandon our late-night talks, but maybe I should be more aware of what I do. I did not know what was my tell, but I was going to make sure to not let it slide anymore.

I fell asleep soon after. I think I felt something cold touch my hand before passing out, but it was probably the ground.

We never stopped the late-night conversations. Only, I felt like the young prince was more insistent with his flirtatious ways, and I couldn’t say I was immune to his charms. He would say the most ridiculous things, and yet I would laugh and feel weird in my stomach, like,

“Focused and determined, if I did not know it was a romantic story, I’d think you were doing hard maths. One would wish you’d look at them as intensely as you stared at those pages, gorgeous.” He once said, I huffed a laugh, suddenly feeling self-conscious with his intense gaze, “Perhaps my prince wishes I’d look at him that way?” I said half-jokingly. “Oh, you already do, I can feel your stare when I’m talking about my inventions, it’s endearing to see you so enthralled when I talk,” He said with a smug smile.

I looked away, focusing my gaze on the sky, “I’m not enthralled, I’m confused, go back to your notes,” I mumbled, opening my book again.

Another time, we were talking heatedly about a topic we both had in common that I found the most interesting. At some point during the conversation, he would only pitch in from time to time, it took me some time to notice that I had been rambling. When I stopped and told him to go on, he shook his head, “Nonsense, I find there’s a certain glow to your pretty person as you talk about things you hold close to you heart. One’s mind tends to wonder if an expression as beautiful as yours could be brought at the mention of one’s name…” He trailed off with a slight smirk.

“Nonsense” I imitated his tone playfully, “One could maybe talk as themselves if one feels there is something they’d like to share, wouldn’t you think my prince?” I asked rhetorically, my face was warming up. I hoped I read it right, I hoped he wasn’t just flirting for fun and hoped he felt the same way, but I was not going to take the first step. Would it not be considered arrogant of someone like me to think I had a chance with a prince?

His laugh reached my ears, then an excited huff as he moved away from the wall and scooted closer to me, sitting perpendicular of me. “Are you curious of my theory, gorgeous?”

I was, if he was asking, it meant I hadn’t been able to hide it as good as I thought I had been, “Not in the slightest, no,” I replied off-handedly. He turned me around, his hands gripping my shoulders as I faced him, “But you are, I can see it! You are curious, and a bad liar, but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” He winked as he drew a cross over his heart. “See, this theory of mine,” He paused and pulled out his notebook, “Which has been proven, right here,” He showed me his notes, but I could barely read it.

I knew he wrote well, but when it was more of a brainstorming, or rushed notes, he wrote like a pirate. I nodded for him to continue. “You like me, we’ve been over that-“ “I don’t think we have, you seem very confident though,”

He tutted me and continued, “You only call me ‘my prince’ when you’re flustered or embarrassed, as if you’re trying to distance yourself, am I wrong?” He asked with a breathtaking smile, he was overjoyed by this. As if he had solved the most difficult problem of his life, which I hardly think it was.

“I don’t-“ “Did you notice, in casual conversations, you call me Nikolai, as you should. But the moment I flirt with you,” He changed his tone when he continued and imitated a sort of shyness, “my prince,” he said with a heartful laugh.

I know he meant it as a joke, but I took it at heart and scoffed. I threw him a cautious glance, taking in how handsome he looked under the moonlight. How his hair was still a bit messy from waking up in the middle of the night, I never knew if he couldn’t sleep either or if he woke up for me, but I believe the former was more probable.

There was moment of silence, which was rare with Nikolai Lantsov. As if he could not bear the silence, but he never said so, instead he did the conversation all by himself. He always knew what to say, no matter who he was talking to, maybe that’s what was going on here.

Or perhaps he wanted me to tell him I liked him… “One tends to distance themselves when they know that liking a prince only ends up well in fairytales,” I mumbled, shrugging. I had to try hard to calm myself, even considering using my power to calm my fast-beating heart.

“Are you saying liking me is only possible in a fairytale?” I took the bait, I had already started talking when I looked at him in panic and saw the smirk on his face, “No, I’m saying it’s not as simple as one would think to … get together with royalty,” Chuckling, he grabbed my hands in his and pulled me closer, our knees touching.

“Let’s talk properly, shall we? I want you, and I am fairly certain you want me too-“ Nikolai started, I had to interrupt, “Pardon?” I uttered in shock; my eyes as wide as a diner plate. An unusual nervous sound left his lips, as the blond quirked a brow, “It’s hard to believe I read the room wrong, from what I gathered you do not look at anyone else the way you look at me. Though it is only fitting that I’d receive all the attention.”

“I thought you were fake flirting Nikolai, I thought I was being delusional,” I let go of his hands and let myself fall back on the ground delicately, now staring at the starry sky, a chuckle of disbelief escaping my lips. I heard him shuffle closer as he laid down next to me. Heat was emanating from his body, making me want to scoot closer and hold him but I stood there.

“I’ll admit I am of flirtatious nature, but you’re the only one who enjoys my talking, that is something I am grateful for,” He started, “You are also very smart, and beautiful. I wouldn’t say as beautiful as me, I am quite the charming lad,” we both chuckled, as I nudged his hand playfully. He stopped me by grabbing it and intertwining our fingers, my breath hitched, and I turned my head to face him, slowly. Nikolai was already staring at me with a lovely smile.

I loved the idea of being with him, but I knew it wasn’t possible, “It would have been nice… to be with you that is…” I said with a sad smile, “But I don’t think the King and Queen would appreciate it, for Ravka’s sake-“ “There, already thinking like a true Queen,” He said half-jokingly, I don’t know what he was doing. He was supposed to tell me I was right, it wouldn’t work, he was supposed to cut everything off. Instead, he was entertaining the thought.

“Dear, let’s not think of what’s to come and enjoy our time while we can, shall we?” “You say that as if we were going to die, that’s not the optimistic Prince I know.” I said humorously, not enjoying the dark turn the conversation was taking.

“You are very right, gorgeous. You are correct that the King and Queen won’t like it, not one bit. They’re quite set on marrying me off to some wealthy princess, but I do love a challenge, let’s first win this war. Anything can happen, and until then, I would gladly have you by my side.” There was some uncertainty in his tone when he continued, almost timid. Uncharacteristic of him, but I found myself relax slightly knowing he was not always brash and charming. As if we had a common ground here in both being new to this. “If you desire to not go forth with this, I’ll respect your wish, gorgeous.”

“I want you too Nikolai,” I heard a short sigh of relief, “And my wish is for you to kiss me, can you respect that-“ I was interrupted by a breathless laugh as two hands cradled my face gently and pulled me closer, his lips pressed against mine, I could feel the smile on his lips and could only oblige in returning it. “Good, do you want to keep this secret or-“ “I think keeping it between our closest friends would be better, not that I’m ashamed. I’d flaunt you in a heartbeat, not that people would care, but…” “-But let’s not have the court talking just yet, I’m sure women will be jealous. Who wouldn’t be with such a handsome man by your side, after all? I’m quite the catch,” He paused.

“And maybe let’s avoid the wrath of the King and Queen’s for now,”

“Well… I never went fishing, but I’d say you’re an OK fish,” I told him teasingly, jumping back on his saying of being a good catch. He huffed in faux-shock, “An ok fish? I’ll have you known I am more of a very handsome fox, have you seen my lush hair?”

This was the night I find out Nikolai felt the same way I did about him. From that day, I did start considering his offer of the single room but was afraid of people finding out.

Meeting in his bedroom would be more comfortable, in a way we wouldn’t be sitting on the floor and freezing ourselves to death. But I love the blanket of the wide-open night, the darkness of it, the secrecy it brought us, something I doubt a room next to the King and Queen’s room could bring.

We’d play the game well. The one where we weren’t supposed to be close, it was hard to keep it up with Nikolai’s subtle flirts when we’d cross paths. During the day he’d be running around, getting things done, with other people around him and would still dare to look my way while I’d be training, and wink at me. When I’d receive a hit from losing focus and look back at him frustrated, he’d grin and mouth “careful”.

The soldier I was training with was starting to catch on, I thought she had found out when she chuckled. “Has the little Grisha taken a liking to the young prince?” I scoffed in response, playing it off and retaliating her previous attack. “I’d be a fool if I did, let’s resume,” I was indeed a fool and there was no helping it. I was falling more and more in love with the witty prince the more I spent time with him.

He grew bolder in his moves, making me look at him exasperated the day he asked the person I was training with, if he could practice a bit. Thinking he meant for me to leave, I stepped aside but he laughed, “You can go Zeke, I’m a bit rusty but I want to see how our little Grisha is fending for herself,”

I looked him dead in the eyes, without showing my true feelings. I threw a glance at Zeke, hoping they wouldn’t try to read the room, instead they left a bit confused.

We stepped closer to one another, reading our weapon, “Nikolai, what are you doing,” he grinned, oh so charmingly, “Making sure my training programs is working, of course!” He exclaimed as we started fencing. I had a hard time getting a hit on him, I tried to argue that he had been doing this since he was a child, probably. Adding to that his great side life as privateer, he must have been in many fights, but then I remember he would mostly fight with pistols.

When he was about to hit me another time, I used my power to make him feel dizzy. I fell back, avoiding his sword, he only lost a bit of his balance and stood standing right there. “I believe that’s cheating gorgeous,” He whispered, extending his hand to me to help me up. I didn’t take it and stood up on my own, leaning in and gritting through my teeth, “I can’t concentrate when you’re looking at me like that,” His grin only widened at that, “With burning passion and awe? You truly are stunning when you’re fighting, dear,”

I gave him a deadly glare once again, unable to hide my blush, “Nikolai, no!”

“Nikolai, yes, I believe I won. See you tonight?” He looked around mischievously before placing a delicate kiss on my cheek and slipping away without an ounce of regret in his strut. I stood there in shock until Zeke returned and we resumed our training. No one had seen a thing.

Later, the return of the Sun Summoner happened. The worry I felt upon being discovered with the prince grew in a different direction. Upon her return, a lot went down, one being the making of Nikolai a King. His father had abdicated, both him and the Queen were to stay away from Ravka. Talks about an alliance between him and Sankta Alina was going around, meaning, a marriage. I ignored it the best I could.

One time we almost got caught when I was told the King had asked for a meeting with me, I held back a groan at how this lacked discretion. I made my way to the room dedicated for the war meetings with the most important people, and saw Nikolai looking at the map on the table in the middle of the room. He signaled for the person who accompanied me to leave, that this was important and needed all his focus. They nodded and closed the door behind. His diplomatic attitude fell to the ground like a cape being removed off his beautiful person.

“Your majesty, you’re growing careless,” I was afraid someone was listening on the other side of the door and kept some distance between us, something he did not seem to be in the mood for. Instead, he grabbed both my hands and pulled me deeper into the room, whispering, “I wanted to see you and as your King you cannot refuse me,” He said playfully, “Nikolai, do you not care what people might think of this?” I asked, exhausted.

“The people think there is something between Zoya and I,” I felt my heart clench, sighing heavily as I rested my chin on his chest, looking at him from a weird angle. “Which… there is not, right?” I felt his arms tighten around my waist, it felt comforting to be in his embrace like this, I felt untouchable. He looked at me with a big smile, “Is my darling jealous?” I rolled my eyes and looked off to the side. “I love you Nikolai, Saints do I love you…” I paused. “But there is talk about getting married to the Sun Summoner, the people need a Queen they can look up to, and I think you should make that alliance…”

He sighed and played with my hair as he spoke, “I’ll only accept one Queen by my side, I do not wish to marry Alina,”

“What you want is different from what Ravka needs, Nikolai. You and I both know that. We both knew from the moment we started this that, things will change, and I hardly think I would be fit for the throne. A Saint is what the country needs-“ “Funds is what Ravka needs, I am already considered a bastard, I have been called many names at the court but I meet their insults with laughter, I can add fool to the many titles I have been given it means I can marry the one I truly love,”

I took a deep breath as I cradled his face in my hands, “Funds is what the country will need once we won… But hope is what keeps us alive, is it not? The people need hope right now, hope from a Saint ruling over them, I will stay by your side always, but you need this alliance with the Sun Summoner Nikolai,” We were interrupted by heavy knocks on the door before Zoya came rushing in, a scowl on her face. I had had time to step away from Nikolai and slump quickly on one of the seats to make it look like it was just a conversation.

His mask came back the moment the door open, we did not talk more about it.

I later heard he did propose with a big ring to Alina, Zoya informed me. But she had turned him down. I had to tell him to try harder, giving him tips of what I think could make her swoon. But deep down, I felt offended for his sake, why would she refuse him? He was handsome, smart, kind, gentle, funny- I stopped my thoughts for a moment, realizing how much I loved him and how much my heart ached for him. This situation was affecting me more than I thought it would, I knew he did not love her, and I also knew it from the start that it’d come down to that, but it still hurt.

That same day, in the evening, I left my room late but did not find him following me. There was a pinch in my heart as I climbed up to reach the outside. When I arrived there, I saw Nikolai sitting on the railing with Alina a bit further away from him. My heart shattered but I kept my composure, Alina stepped away from the railing and met my eyes with surprise. I was the first one to speak, “My apologies, your majesty, Sankta Alina, I will leave you be,” with a curtesy I moved to leave but heard Nikolai call my name.

Turning around, I held his gaze. I clenched my jaw, feeling jealousy build inside me. It was unlike me, but I couldn’t help it. I bowed once more, “Does your majesty require-“ “Gorgeous, I told you to call me Nikolai,” Many thoughts crossed my mind, but mostly, what is he doing? I heard him a lot closer this time, his hand reached for my cheek as he lifted my chin. I uttered his name in a warning tone, barely above a breath. “Oh, don’t worry, he told me about both of you. I wouldn’t have guessed; I mean sure I could see you clearly had a crush on the Too-Clever fox here.”

“Alina, who wouldn’t? No one can resist my charms, I make women swoon with just a wink,” “And make them leave the moment you open your mouth, a shame you cannot for the life of you shut up Nikolai,” She replied playfully, making him fake gasp.

I watched the interaction in shock, stepping back from the King, still not sure I could display anything else but curtesy to the King of Ravka and his little Saint. Daring to speak, I looked at the Sun Summoner, “I like listening to him talk, it’s interesting, don’t you think Sankta Alina?” She stared at me, before looking at Nikolai then back at me, “You managed to him blush!” “I do not blush; the air is frisky here. Let’s go back inside,” He ushered us both towards the door, only to have Alina stop us. “I’ll go back inside, but you,” She pointed at me, “Call me Alina, I am no Saint, and you,” she pointed at Nikolai, then at the ring on her finger, “I’ll only keep it until we win, but we are not getting married,” Then she left.

Nikolai’s hand reached for mine and pulled me to our usual spot, pulling out a blanket and wrapping us in it quickly before talking, “As you can see, it’s unfortunate but the Saint does not wish to marry me, there is nothing I can do to force her,” He said a bit too happily. His hands both held mine, warming them up. The night was warmer the previous one, but it was still too chilly for any of us to stay outside without the proper blankets. “If the court does not call you a fool, I will. You have to be more persuasive with her, I know full well you could persuade a rock to move with just your charms,” I said with a light tone, but I was being serious.

He brought my hands to his shoulders before helping me sit on his lap, it felt strange to be this close, but I did not say anything. “Would my charms work on you if I asked you to marry me?” I huffed a laugh; He was joking at the worst moments. “Nikolai Lantsov, Major of the Twenty-Second Regiment, Grand Duke of Udova, King of Ravka, the man who proposed to two women in one night. You’re-“ I scoffed, pausing as I rested my forehead against his, a small smile on my lips, “Don’t joke like that, I know if you ask again I’ll say yes, and it’s not… not until we won,”

“Then how about a promise? I want you, no, need you by my side, I’ll wait until we won,” He paused, smirking. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and observed a moment, “Since the big ring is in Alina’s possession, no one will notice if…” He dug inside the pocket of his coat and turned my head just slightly; His hand grazed the shell of my ear as he spoke so close to me that I felt his breath hit my skin. “Sturmhond is a very fashionable man, I’m sure you’d like him, very charming too,” I made a confused face, moments after, he let go and gestured for me to touch.

I felt a metallic thing on the shell of my ear, “Is that an ear cuff?” “Absolutely, I might be very eager to show you off, but I am not an idiot, and if any of us wore a ring, it’d be a bit obvious. Don’t you think?” He did not wait for an answer, “We’ll both know what it means. I will definitely buy you a gorgeous ring once this is over, but let’s settle for this little trinket for now-“ I cut him off by kissing him deeply, earning a surprised sound from him before he returned the kiss.

I looked at him with a huge grin, he seemed embarrassed but recovered quickly, “I’ll take that as a yes,” “You are very thoughtful, thank you. I like it, I don’t have anything for you, not that you could wear anything without everyone being suspicious.” I chuckled.

“Oh my heart, I have plenty. Know that you are in my thoughts always,” “I think that’s my cue to leave, I have had my quota of…” I gestured at him playfully. The blond man pulled me closer, “Affection? Well, I have not, and as your King, I demand you stay until I am fully satiated.” And I did. We stayed there all night, until we fell asleep. It was good.

This happiness did not last long. Some way, The Darkling found the Spinning Wheel. Everything went south from there, people dying, running around. I saw the woman who had taught me to control my power, jump into the void, I saw my lover getting snatched from in front of me, his screams reaching my ears. I called out for him but tried to hide my sadness, my heartbreak, behind fear. I failed. I yelled his name in despair, he fell back on the ground but was in searing pain. I approached him but saw his form change, it had taken the shape of something close to a volcra. “Nikolai!” I reached out for him, he stopped midair.

His hand reached out for mine, for a single moment. I was not paying attention to what The Darkling was saying but was solely focused on the King that had transformed into a demon. I tried to pull him towards me, his claws dug inside my arm, but I didn’t let go. He pulled back, leaving red marks on my arms as I fell to my knees.

This was what this man left behind, this bastard. The man I believed a mentor. He took everything for himself, he did not care. He claimed it was for the greater good but was a selfish- “Piece of shit!” I continued insulting him, but he only laughed, mocking me, saying I looked a poor little puppy in love.

Soon enough, he disappeared. I do not know what happened next, I was out of it.

I was later asked to join the Saint’s team in the search for amplifiers that I believed were legends, myths. Until it was not, I did not talk much during the trip. No matter what happened, I kept my composure. Or did I? I would play with the ear cuff Nikolai offered me, thinking back on our moments together. Zoya would sometimes try to have me talking, we would talk a few until none of us found the strength to keep up this charade. We were both exhausted, unable to fake being anything but terrified, lost, confused.

During the trip, Alina disappeared and came back out of breath telling us she saw Nikolai, adding he was still himself, she knew. I did not want to believe her. I knew her to be way too optimistic, maybe more realistic, but I did not wish to believe her. I did not wish to have false hopes, believing Nikolai was lost seemed easier than spending my energy on hoping.

Hope is what keeps us alive, I heard him say in my head. And I knew, Saints did I know that hope kept us alive… And part of me was still hopeful. I would later be glad this part hung on until the end.

As much as I’d deny it, Alina’s news of having seen Nikolai, even in his demon form, and telling us he was still in there… it kept me going. Even in the hard times, even as we entered the fold, I was still thinking, maybe he’ll come out of the sky, grinning as usual, explaining us how he oh so easily escaped the hands of darkness. How he was back and ready to outwit that geezer of Darkling.

It was anything but. The attack in the fold went awry at some point, I did not know when, I knew I got shot but kept going by stopping the bleeding. We couldn’t see anything anymore, I had gotten separated from the squad, and was now cornered. I tried to fight off the Volcra the best I could, but there were no inferni around, no Sun Summoner. I was going to die, but hopefully it wouldn’t have been in vain and in the end, Alina will have killed The Darkling.

Death did not happen. Instead, an ear-piercing screech did. I felt talons grip my shoulders, it hurt but they did not dug fully into my skin, I tried to fight off the Volcra that had grabbed me. Fear coursing through my body, but as I did, I realize it was bringing me closer to the limit of the Fold.

Then, a blinding light.

Alina’s power. She was using it, she was helping us, she was winning. Darkness was going away, everything was clearing up, the Volcra- I was now falling. The Volcra that was carrying me had let go, I looked where it would have been standing and saw a blond mop of hair. Nikolai? I thought, before I could see who it was, I hit the ground hard and lost consciousness.

I mustn’t have passed out long, since when I opened my eyes, the brightness was only dispersing. I stood up quickly, and looked around me, a naked body on the ground next to me. Turning their head, I gasped and tried to get them to wake up, “Nikolai! Nikolai, please wake up, for the love of Saints, wake up!” I took off my kefta and covered him the best I could, repeating his name over and over again. I knew he was still alive, I could feel it, but I was afraid to use my power in this state.

The adrenaline coursing through my vein would make me fuck up, which I did not want. After a few moments, I heard groans and the man in front of me sat up, I moved the kefta to cover him properly. When I met his gaze, my heart stopped.

He was exhausted. Covered in bruises, his hair messy, his gaze confused. “You’re back…” I whispered, reaching out for him, he took my hand in his and brought it to his chest, “Did you ever doubt it? I am well-versed in achieving the improbable.” He said with a grin, I stared at him in awe, feeling the tears welling up. I wiped them away before they could even roll down my cheeks, “I’ll admit I did, but I am relieved you’re alive,”

He brought me in a tight hug, which I broke quickly as I leaned back and quirked a brow, looking at him insistently. He looked down at himself then back at me, “I do hope you are enjoying the view, gorgeous, it’s a sample of what you’ll get once we-“ “Your majesty! Are you alright?”

And here, our moment got ruined. I stood up and was about to explain hat had happened, when Nikolai spoke, “The Volcra did not seem to enjoy my fashion sense, they ripped it to shreds. You have spare uniforms laying around, yes?” The soldiers nodded and led him to the tents set nearby.

I waited until everyone left what remained of the Fold. The survivors returned to the camp, we counted our wounded, healers did their work. I saw Alina bring in a wounded man and noticed by the look in her eyes this was the person that mattered to her. She seemed different than before, she also kept her head low, as if she was hiding. So, I did not say anything.

Nikolai had her brought in, they talked a long while, whilst my wounds were getting tended to.

Part of me hoped they weren’t arranging a real marriage. I knew it was stupid, but I still thought it could still happen. My daydream was interrupted when the healer went for the gloves around my hands, I stopped him, “No need, there’s nothing-“ “I must check, I’ve taken care of everything but I have to be sure,” I did not want them to see, I tried to snatch my hand away and heard a throat clearing by the entrance.

“The lady said no, out you go, I would like to have a word with her. No one is allowed, this is important matter,” Just like that, Nikolai had kicked the healer out of his own tent. I told him off, telling him he was making a scene and yet let him hold my hands gently as he looked at me without a word. The prettiest smile adorned his features, even as I berated him. When I was done, he smiled wider, “You are so beautiful when you’re passionately yelling at me,” “Nikolai,”

“What’s with the gloves, dove?” he asked in all seriousness, his fingers grazing the edge of he long gloves. “I…” “May I?” He asked. I nodded. He pulled them off and saw the dark lines on my left arm, “It’s healed up, there’s just nothing they could do about that. I don’t know… I-“ “How did this happen? Tell me,”

I paused then pulled him closer, “You did, but it’s alright, I forgive you- It wasn’t done out of malice or anything of that sort, I had tried to keep you closer but the-“ he ran his hands through his hair and apologized. He seemed to be truly regretting it, even though he was probably unaware of his own actions.

“Nikolai, please, it’s nothing. It’s over,” I grabbed his hand and only now noticed he had the same marks as I did. His hands were covered in black threads almost. He looked at our intertwined hands a moment, “What if it’s not over?” Vulnerability, something the King rarely showed. “Then I’ll be here every step of the way,” He pulled me into a hug and stood there a moment.

I broke the silence, adding, “It has some charms, don’t you think? It’s almost matching tattoos,” I said jokingly. The blond man laughed wholeheartedly as he leaned back, “I say it’d look even better with,” he grabbed my hand a slid a golden ring on my ring finger, “this, don’t you think it complements it?” I looked at it in bewilderment, gazing up at Nikolai. My hand went to the ear cuff he had offered me, he stopped me, “Keep it, I think Sturmhond would agree it suits you better than him,”

I laughed. “I suppose we did win… I am still not fit to be Queen, and I am still very set on you being a complete fool for doing this,” I said calmly, but inside my heart was soaring. “It’s a lot of words to say yes, don’t you think?” He said teasingly, his hands cradling my face, “Let me try again,”

He kissed my lips tenderly, “Will you marry me, gorgeous?”

I nodded and pecked his lips softly, “Yes, my prince,”

“I am actually a King now,” “Please Nikolai, just this once, shut up,”

He leaned in, “Gladly,” and kissed me once more.

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imo-chan-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

『 As your boyfriend | BNHA Headcanons 』

From the good, to the bad, to the downright adorable.

Characters: female!reader, Aizawa Shouta

Tags/warnings: Boku No Hero Academia (anime), 18+, explicit descriptions of sex, smut, fluff, soft dom Aizawa, relationship, headcanons

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Right, so I'm simping for this man biG TIME, but I'm only on season 3, so no spoilers or anything, please. This is my first BNHA post (and it turned out way longer than I was intending 😅) Please let me know if you want more in the future!

Also, I have a repetitive strain injury, so typing stuff is taking a while at the moment. Sorry about that. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ ~Imo

☆ Aizawa Shouta ☆

I'm not going to lie. Shouta can be a big ol' grouchy pants sometimes, and it's basically impossible to win an argument against him makes you want to tear your hair out, sometimes

But most of the time, he's just tired and in pain, and he doesn't mean to be so crotchety

He's not the type to make excuses, though. That's childish. He means his apologies, even if they're simple

He'll normally initiate an apology by gently wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his forehead on your shoulder 🥺

Physical contact is incredibly personal and intimate for him. He doesn't just touch anyone, or allow them to touch him

You're special 💞💫

Soft, gentle touches, like his fingers interlacing with yours, or his leg brushing up against you, are basically his way of saying 'I love you'

Catch me crying in the corner, a'ight? 😔

He rarely ever raises his voice. Like, ever he doesn't need to, and is aware that it can be scary

He's definitely the kind of guy to forget to tell people that you're dating, simply because he doesn't see how it's relevant or anyone else's business 🤦‍♀️

I mean, he ain't wrong, but–

And his mood switches between 'antisocial' and 'clingy' like a mechanical metronome did someone say 'cat'?

Sometimes, you'll be lucky if he speaks more than three words to you together in a whole day nothing personal 🤷‍♀️

But on other days, he literally won't let you out of his arms for the world he's complicated, okay?

You have missed many a parcel delivery because he wouldn't let you get up from his lap to answer the door 🙄😂

Boundaries and responsibilities are key and highly respected by Shouta, and he would NEVER erase your quirk without your permission, unless he literally had no other choice like someone's going to get hurt, or something

Is generally quite serious so what's new? but you're one of the few people he can relax around when he feels like it

9/10 of his jokes are dad jokes 😎 hell yeah

Takes a hard stance in financial debates, but is constantly broke af 😶 says he'll buy you dinner and presents you with some instant noodles with a 'Reduced To Clear' sticker on them

Will take a bite of your food/steal some off your plate without asking, and literally say nothing to defend himself #gremlin

Is incredibly shy and uncomfortable about being ~le horny~ until you've been together for literally forever

Even then, he's still shy about it when he has to bring it up and it's pretty cute, let me tell ya

It took him forever to admit to you that he gets turned on when you eat ice lollies

Guess what you do whenever you want to mess with him like a little brat 😛

But if he's in the mood, he will 100% whisper something dirty in your ear, even if you're completely alone and probably well past third base

He does it because he knows your pussy will clamp around him at the sound of his voice 😳🥵

*fans self profusely*

Genuine, unadulterated smiles are rare with Aizawa, but when he does 🙌 Heaven hath opened its gates and allowed an angel walk amongst mere mortals 🥺🤧

If he lays his head on your chest, he will fall asleep like that *snaps fingers*

Surprise nose and forehead kisses to show he loves you ❤

Calls you 'Kitten' this is basically already canon at this point

And he's all about those deep talks with you at 3 am when he can't sleep

Speaking of insomnia!

It's cheesy, but you're like a soothing balm. The warmth of your body makes him feel safe, your touch helps him relax, and your voice soothes him to sleep

He's never slept as well as when you're beside him 😭🤧

When cuddling, he likes to be the big spoon but will accept being the little spoon if you if you press your boobs against his back and ask really nicely 🤭

And he loves you stroking his hair and running your fingers through it 🥺

Netlix nights and pillow/blanket forts!!

Rainy days are a godsend. Staying inside all day under the blankets, with the soft sound of the rain falling outside and no-one to interrupt you – literal paradise

He makes mean hot cocoas and Irish coffees 😋 I feel like this man lives off Irish coffees 😂🤣

Wears a lot of black and grey sweatpants at home 😗 which highlight the outline of his dick just right, if ya know what I'm sayin' 👀

Doesn't like going out for dates and prefers staying inside and doing stuff together same, honeyy

But if you really like going out, he will somewhat begrudgingly agree to it and get all dressed up for you, just so long as he gets his fair share of home-dates, too 🤗

But if you also don't like going out... the two of you will basically never leave the house, except to get groceries in your pyjamas from the 24-hour convenience store down the road at one in the morning oddly specific, I know, but you get me

And sorry, but I don't make the rules

Well, actually, I do. But shush

We all know that Shouta cleans up *chef's kiss* So when you go somewhere ~fancy~ he always looks so damn fine 😩

But he has very little idea that he's hot he sees himself as a tired, walking dumpster fire🚶‍♂️🔥

Shouta will 100% turn into a crazy cat dude with 15+ cats if you don't stop him I never said you should, though 🙃

And is a 'minimalist texter' – basically, if he can't answer a text with 'yes', 'no,' 'maybe', or 'OK', then he probably won't answer it at all 😭😂

Especially if you try and sext him or send him your nudes while he's at work. He'll probably lecture you when he gets home and depending on just how much you turned him on, he might proceed to teach you a lesson...

But wear his shirt, and just his shirt or his hoodie and he's yours

Heart eyes, motherfucker 😍

And, depending on how you two are feeling that day, you may or may not end up getting dicked down on the nearest semi-flat surface right then and there 👀

But don't misunderstand. This is an incredibly tired man you have here, and his libido actually isn't through the roof sorry, ladies so this kind of thing isn't an everyday occurrence

But when he dicks you down, he dicks you down goooood

Shouta's not big on PDA, but makes up for it in private. We're talking hands and kisses all over your body he leaves nothing unloved 😏

And while he's not big on PDA, he is big on sneaky displays of affection or 'SDA', as I like to call it

Like subtly grabbing your butt for a second, or his hand on your thigh under the table at a dinner etc. especially around other people

But what really gets him going is slowly removing your clothes and taking you fully naked, spreading your legs wide and holding them open he likes the view 😍

He lowkey highkey worships your body 🙏 and will literally not shut up about how fucking pretty you are, and how fucking good it feels inside you his words, not mine 😳

Groans and growls a little when he's getting close/cumming especially when he's being a little rough and likes to cum together, but knows it's not always practical

He tends to be a gentle dom, but can get just a teensy bit 🤏 rough if he's too into it – but nothing outrageous

We're talking rough thrusts and a brutal pace, maybe holding onto you a little too hard and, waaahh, he gets so embarrassed if he leaves bruises

Is also into a little bondage, but again, only light stuff – restraining your wrists with his hands or his tie or his Capturing Weapon 👀 maybe blinding-folding you if you're okay with it

If you're not blindfolded, then I'm afraid he's all about that eye contact

Eating out your pussy? Eye contact. Pounding you into the mattress? Blazing eye contact. Rearranging your guts in front of the mirror? Fucking eye contact

And CONSENT, BABY. THAT'S WHAT HE'S FUCKING INTO 😌🙌💞

But all jokes aside – he's too used to taking without consent with his quirk, that he's kind of paranoid about it comes to sex but it's adorable and sweet, and honestly, still kind of hot

And speaking of eating pussy – goddamn does he like to please you. Like cream to a kitty 😛

Oh, and he just loves it when you suck on his fingers as he's pounding into you 🤤

And he likes to leave love bites in personal, inconspicuous places and sometimes on your neck

He's marking his woman 😌

When he gets suuuper horny, he likes to fuck you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror. It's a specific kink he has of watching himself stretch you out as the length of his cock disappears inside you...

I can get behind that, lemme tell yaaa

I said he tends to be dominant, but female doms – fear not!

Shouta is quite flexible when it comes down to it and is kind of lazy, lmfao so he definitely has time for laying back, having the control taken away, and having his dick ridden

For him, it's really all about communication and what you're both comfortable with

I will say this, though: sometimes, his cat watches you while you're banging 😅😂

The first time it happened, you freaked out and refused to continue because – how could you??? But eventually, you just kind of got used to it 🤷‍♀️

The same way you've got used to it following you to the bathroom every time you go to take a shit 😭

So now, you just kind of laugh about it, which helps keep things a little lighter 🤗

After sex, he does like to snuggle, but you'll be lucky if he stays awake for more than 30 seconds it's one of the few times he actually can sleep well

If you're ever out and about, or even inside, and cold, he'll wrap you up in his clothes/scarf/blanket like a sushi roll like Eren wrapping up Mikasa in his scarf, all deadpan and everything 😐

It's not that often, but when he gets drunk, he gets all soft and emotional, and starts babbling about how he can't believe he got so lucky to be dating you, and that he's sure he hasn't done anything to deserve it mah heart

He's pretty sure he wants kids, but he doesn't feel like now is the right time, and is lowkey afraid that it's never going to feel like the right time

He also constantly doubts himself, wondering if he'd actually able to look after them and protect them the way a father should class 1-A got him second-guessing himself 🥺

Besides, it's not all about him. You clearly have a say in it too, and he doesn't want to force you into anything

Again: communication and comfort zones

Dating Aizawa definitely has its ups and downs, and it's not smooth sailing, but he's prepared to work for a life with you because he's found a connection with you that he hasn't feel with anyone else

He knows that you're both far from perfect, but hopes that, for once, you might just make something good, and make it last 🥰😇

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wallgirl · 3 years ago

Text

The Little Nereid Part 17

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 1,800

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful. Loving someone like Poseidon is not easy period, let alone as your first love. But Dynamene is young and naïve, and all she wants is a chance to be at the sea god’s side.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. Graphic violence parts 15 and 16.

Updated regularly; will have about 20 parts total.

Warning for this chapter: references to injury and blood, largely at the end of the chapter. Avoid if squeamish.

—

Am I dead?

It was the first thought to arise as she woke out of a thick haze. Tiny motes of dust drifted before her, but when her eyes tried to focus on them, they seemingly disappeared. Had they been there at all?

She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Before her was an endless expanse of black, completely impenetrable and all encompassing. She instinctively knew that it went on forever, despite not being able to see anything besides her own pale body. She felt some sort of tepid liquid beneath her feet - was it water? - but couldn't bring herself to look down past her shoulders. She remembered in horrific blurs what had happened to bring her to this place, and feared what she might see there.

But I don't feel any pain. Could it be...? Dynamene looked hesitantly down at herself. Her white peplos stretched clean and untorn across her intact chest. She pressed her skin hesitantly, but felt no pain. It was as if the wound had never existed.

Now that she had gotten her bearings, she turned about in hopes of spotting something, anything, in the endlessness. Is this purgatory? Dynamene knew that when deities perished, so did their souls. Their consciousness ceased to exist along with their body. I think, therefore I am. I must not be dead. So what's going on? A neutral silence did nothing to sate her curiosity. Is this it?

Seconds ticked by with no change. A feeling of dread sunk in her chest. No, this can't be it. I still had so much I wanted to do.

I was such a fool.

She thought of her family, and her final argument with Ianeira. I'm sorry. I should have listened. She pursed her lips as she fought back tears. If this is the end, I apologize. I didn't mean to hurt you all. I wish I could change it. I wish I could see you again.

Then, suddenly, there was something bright that stood out against the void before her, a long, long ways away. It seemed to call to her in the distance with its brilliant white light. With nothing else to do and no answers to her questions, Dynamene ran toward it. Her feet splashed through the black water, droplets lit by the faint glow emanating from her being.

She stopped, breathless, after what might have been a few seconds or a few hours. The something had taken on the shape of a person, a bit taller than her, and with their back largely turned to her. Dynamene stepped forward cautiously, allowing their features to come into focus.

It was him, standing there before her in the black. His body emitted an eerie white glow, just like hers. She stood in bewilderment for several moments. She could only see the edge of his cheek with the way he was turned, no other part of his face. Dynamene was at a loss. "Why are you here?"

There was no answer. He didn't even move. Was he really there? Was it just a figment of her wounded body's imagination? She curled her fingers uncertainly as she considered reaching out to see if she was merely hallucinating.

Then his face tilted slightly towards her, making it clear he had heard her. Still, he refused to show himself to her entirely, and Dynamene's eyes widened. There was something in the bowed angle of his head...

Are you ashamed?

As if trying to dispel the notion, he finally stepped to face her completely. His colors looked washed out in the white glow, while the faint shadows traced the edges of his face. It seemed he was at last in a place every bit as fittingly ethereal as he was. But he continued to remain silent, and Dynamene's gaze shifted away in frustration.

"You're the one who brought me here. So why have you come now?" She couldn't veil the accusation in her voice. "I tried to tell you. But you didn't stop. You killed me."

Here in this endless vacuum of existence, Poseidon held no power over her. She was already on death's door, that much seemed certain. He couldn't harm her now. Dynamene was free to speak her mind completely. "Why didn't you believe me? Did you call me to your room just to kill me?" There was more bite to her tone now. "Was my love only a burden to you?" Her accusations echoed across the space.

His gaze finally flickered to meet hers. She felt no joy from it, only a strange sensation of tired defeat. Her shoulders slumped. "I suppose I'm going to disappear forever now, aren't I?" She twisted her peplos with guilty hands. "And I... I brought it on myself. I didn't listen to my family. I didn't see... I didn't understand. They'd warned me."

Nothing in his somber expression changed, but the shadows had deepened across his face. He took a single step closer to her, and she looked up at him with a miserable expression. Then he lifted one hand to clasp over hers, stilling her worried fidgeting. "I didn't mean to bring you here, Dynamene."

Her lower lip trembled, and she had to look away as he continued. "I thought you were a fake sent to replace the real you. I thought someone might've abducted you. I couldn't hear your heartbeat; your appearance had changed; I sensed strange magic about you."

So you didn't mean to hurt me, yet... "So your first response was to maim?" Dynamene pulled her hands away. "You would've lost the only chance to find me if your theory had been true."

"I-" Poseidon's words came to a stop mid-breath. It was the first time she'd ever heard him halt in the midst of a sentence. She turned her eyes back to him in confusion. He looked at war with himself; what was it that he'd meant to say? He took a moment to settle on a fitting response as his expression smoothed back out into stoicism. "I allowed my rage to get the better of me."

Her mouth nearly fell open. Poseidon was admitting fault. He had just, before a mere Nereid, confessed that his emotions had got the better of him.

Emotions spurred on by the thought that she might've been harmed.

She looked away as she absorbed this. The little motes of dust had returned, flickering gently in their light. They danced in little waves, fading in and out of sight. Poseidon had gone against the appearance he fought so hard to maintain for her. He cared about her. His heart had thawed at last, just as she'd wanted.

But there was no change within her heart except something bittersweet that ached. Her bleak expression remained as she looked up at him.

"Do you not forgive me?" He asked in a hushed voice. A vulnerability she didn't recognize had crept into his words.

Dynamene pursed her lips, thinking desperately about how to respond. Do I forgive you?

I... I think I do.

I do forgive you, but it doesn't change the way I feel right now.

That terror I experienced, that agonizing pain... You say you didn't mean to inflict it on me.

But how many countless others have you taken in the same way, with no regret? Your own brother, the Titans... People who have wronged you. People who would do you harm. And people who you perceived to have slighted you. Now I finally understand it all.

You did them the same harm, and you didn't feel anything.

"I forgive you," she whispered, but the words were meaningless. This wasn't about forgiveness. Something nameless had changed beneath the current.

He lifted his hand to gently smooth back her unruly bangs. His dark eyes drank in her face, even as she remained largely unaffected by his gesture. The girlish infatuation of before was completely extinguished. Now disappointment prevailed in her eyes.

But regardless, his feelings were unchanged. Now, for the very first time, they were truly alone. He finally admitted his desire for her to himself, even though he still didn't understand it. And as he leaned down closer to her, his eyes closed for the first time as he allowed himself to become immersed in his emotions.

And despite her disillusionment and sorrow, she loved him yet. A man of ice who had thawed only for her. Allowing him to enfold her in his embrace, her lips met his.

Two beings of light, entwined in the dark.

---

Dynamene gasped, a ragged, excruciating sound. Poseidon drew back in shock, staring down at her with sharp eyes. She coughed violently, wracking her thin body with the effort. Poseidon quickly lifted her shoulders to help clear her airway. Lifewater dripped from her lips, tainted red with his own blood. It was then that he understood what had happened. Before, when he had bit his lips in anger...

His blood was reviving her. Poseidon immediately bit his lip again and kissed her once more, pushing his blood into her. He forced several breaths of air into her, desperately willing her to keep breathing, before moving back to monitor the effect.

The flesh around her wounds had stopped disintegrating, though they were not healing. She gave another gasp for air, then fell silent.

He wasn't going to give up. He removed one glove and tore through the skin of his finger with his teeth. The gash began to drip blood, and he held it above her open mouth. As drop by drop ran down her throat, she began to move once more. He squeezed his hand, willing the blood to run faster, to hurry her revival.

After many agonizing seconds, Dynamene's eyelids twitched. Her bleary eyes opened slowly and focused on him. The sound of dripping lifewater stopped.

Poseidon exhaled. He rebandaged her chest, pulled her back into his arms, and stood. She was healing. She would live. Now to get out of this forsaken place and back to the palace. She would need more medical care as soon as possible.

Dynamene's eyes remained open, but she said nothing. Even if she had wanted to, her body wouldn't have been able. Her drowsy gaze didn't leave his face once. Something was ending now, but for however long as they had, she just wanted to drink him in. Poseidon... Her Poseidon. Just hours ago, this would have been a dream come true. Now, where had that exhilarated part of her gone? Had it remained behind in the blackness of that silent space? Had their conversation even taken place, or was it just a feverish dream?

What's changed?

No, I don't need to ask. I know.

Just let me enjoy this while it lasts. While I can still see you so close like this, and be in your arms, without any regrets.

She allowed her sore body to rest limply against his, and despite the speed at which he moved through the water to bring them home, her gaze never wavered.

---

We're going to the end now. I can't believe it. This is my longest fanfiction ever. I've gotten to know Dynamene so well. I don't think she'll leave my mind, even after the fic is finished.

I spent the most time on this chapter because I had a very specific mood for it in mind that required a lot of editing and re-writing. I let it sit for a few days before going back and putting more meat into the gaps. That's how I prefer to write - get the important stuff out first, and garnish with detail later.

There was this song by Kaskade that I thought about a lot with this chapter. It's called Borrowed Theme. Maybe I should've titled this chapter that, but that feels a little childish. The title kind of references a different song, anyway lol

#record of ragnarok #poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #poseidon x oc #fanfiction

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sencire · 3 years ago

Text

To turn a blank page

“I don’t do cuddles in the morning” – that is all Lexa is prepared to give her latest conquest before bailing. But there's something about this blonde that tells her it won't be so easy this time.

Featuring failed womanizer Lexa with a lot of baggage and Clarke with very little baggage ...

Chapter 1

Read on ao3 instead

The tickle of sunlight on the tip of her nose wakes her. Lexa wiggles her nose but the tickle doesn’t go away. Cracking one eye open, she finds it way too bright and turns onto her stomach, rubbing her nose into the pillow. The soft fabric smells clean but unfamiliar. She groans, her limbs too heavy to move yet. Carefully, she opens the other eye. The covers are a plain, somewhat sterile white. The kind you find in a hotel room.

Another tired groan escapes her, a little louder this time, and she pulls at the sheets to hide under them. Blurred images flash before her closed eyes. She has no idea how late it is but her body tells her it wants to stay underneath the cozy blankets a little longer. Just a few minutes, then she’ll get going.

“Hey, leave some for me!”

Lexa’s eyes fly open at the sound of the sleepy voice. The mattress tilts slightly, then an arm slides around her and a warm body snuggles up to her back.

Oh.

Right.

The hot blonde. Carol. Claire. Carly? Shit. Lexa can’t remember. Her tired mind manages to piece a few fragments together though.

She had picked a club with good music last night and not too many people and had planned on letting the thumping base mute out all other sounds in her head. She had been enjoying herself. Trying to flirt with the cute barkeeper and actually aiming to go home with her.

But before she could make a real move, she had been distracted by a loud female voice. Amazed at how anyone’s voice could carry above the music, Lexa had turned to see what the commotion was about. She saw a blonde woman arguing with a guy. Lexa slid off her chair right away. It hadn’t looked like the blonde needed help though. She moved into the guy’s space to get him to back off. Probably some idiot who didn’t understand what ‘no’ meant. Staggering backwards, he held out his hands as if to apologize and at the same time hold off an attack. It made Lexa chuckle. Clearly, the blonde was winning. She climbed back into her chair and resumed trying to catch the barkeeper’s attention but found her chatting to another customer at the other end of the bar.

She had almost forgotten about the incident again when a little while later someone bumped rather roughly into her. Lexa was about to tell the person off when she noticed it was the blonde fury from before, leaning onto the bar with a huff. Lexa nodded at her with a wink.

It was like the sun smiled back at her. Lexa was instantly mesmerized and she felt a broad smile tug at her lips as a response. The barkeeper was forgotten. She liked how the blonde’s blue eyes widened as they took in her face. Lexa knew about her effect on women, it always worked in her favor. So then she had turned her attention fully to her new challenge – only to find that the doors were already wide open.

“So, I see you can stand up for yourself.”

The woman looked at her from underneath her make-up heavy lashes, giving her another bright smile. She looked like an angel and Lexa was unable to tear her eyes away from her. Something about the way her gaze never seemed to falter when Lexa looked into her eyes. When the woman finally spoke, her voice was low and very telling.

“You noticed. And I noticed you.”

A drink later, Lexa hadn’t been all that surprised at the feeling of a hand on her thigh, moving up slowly, spreading warmth right into Lexa’s core. The deep gazes and the rosy tongue darting out to run along very kissable lips. And that low cut shirt and its contents. A low growl crawling up Lexa’s throat in approval. It had been instant and mutual. So it hadn’t taken them long to make up their minds and leave. Stumbling through the night, giggling, kissing (yeah, she remembers that well), making out in the elevator on the ride up, fumbling with the key card in the lock and … well … waking up in a hotel room.

Way to go, Lexa, she scolds herself. Aren’t you getting too old for this? Her mouth feels like she has chewed on a dirty rag. She untangles her legs from the sheets, sticking out her knee to hold her position. She moves her tongue inside her mouth to unstick it from her gums.

The hand on her stomach slowly moves up to her chest and stops there, growing limp. Lexa realizes she’s not wearing a shirt. She’s not wearing anything at all.

Right. She frantically tries to jumpstart her brain. This is fine. It’s not the first time she has woken up next to a stranger. Lexa rubs her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. And turns around slowly.

The first thing she notices is the mop of wavy blonde hair sticking out from underneath the covers. A careful tug at the white sheets reveals a smooth forehead, then a set of eyes, closed with remains of kohl, a very cute nose and, oh, those lips. Lexa looks at them for a moment, her eyes being drawn to the small beauty mark just above upper lip. This is a very pretty girl. At least her taste is still impeccable.

“Hello, gorgeous.” The same husky voice she had last night, only now it’s also heavy from sleep. And now the woman’s blue eyes are fixed on Lexa while her lips curl into a smirk.

“Cat got your tongue?” A hand comes up from underneath the covers and reaches for Lexa. Before the blonde’s fingertips can touch her, Lexa snaps her head back and grabs the hand. She makes an effort not to grab too tightly. She just needs to hold it away from her face.

“I need to get going.”

She throws off the covers and rolls out of bed. Her clothes are scattered all across the floor around the bed. She starts looking for her underwear.

“So this is … what … fuck and leave?”

Lexa stops walking around for a moment to look at the woman who is shifting to sit up against the headrest.

“I’m sorry, I don’t do cuddles in the morning.”

The blonde raises her eyebrows, then lets out a humorless laugh.

“I wasn’t going to marry you so there’s no need to treat me like I have an infectious disease all of sudden. You could still be nice. We had a nice time, didn’t we?”

Lexa inhales deeply and takes her time to exhale, sitting down on the bed to put on her socks. She hangs her head and nods. Ah, there are her panties sticking out from under the sheets at the foot end. She pulls them out and wriggles into them.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I just … I don’t like getting too close.”

The other woman studies her for a moment, pursing her lips. “That’s not the impression I got last night. You were pretty desperate to get really close.”

“Look,” Lexa pauses, still unable to remember the name and decides to take a chance because the situation is ruined anyway, “Claire, I need to get going. I had a really nice time with you, thank you for that, but I have to go.”

She gets up and reaches for the pair of jeans sitting on the armchair by the window. She peaks outside, squinting at the sun that seems to be up too high already.

“Clarke.”

“Huh?”

“Name’s Clarke. And you’re welcome. Lexa.” Her voice is cold as ice, her blue eyes shooting arrows.

“Or maybe I should just call you asshole.”

That actually hurts. Lexa pulls on the jeans, almost losing her balance when her foot gets stuck. But when she closes the button, there’s too much room. This pair of jeans is for hips wider than hers. She pulls them off again and finds another pair on the floor on Clarke’s side of the bed. Those must be hers. She reaches down to pick them up and spots her black t-shirt crumbled between the bed and the bedside table.

She pulls it out and flaps it to remove the worst creases but doesn’t put it on yet. She’s pretty sure she also wore a bra. But she can’t see it anywhere.

Clarke has propped herself up on her elbow, quietly watching her get dressed. Now she purses her lips, letting her eyes wander across Lexa’s bare upper body.

“You really are hot,” she says with an approving click of her tongue. “Sure you don’t want to stay? It might help you to remember my name if you’d repeat it a few times. Preferably while you’re coming.”

Lexa’s face turns a bright red and she drops her head to hide a grin. What kind of a woman has she picked up there?

“I can’t.”

“Got to be somewhere? It’s Sunday.”

“Clarke –“

“Alright, I got it. Mystery woman.”

Lexa pulls the shirt over her head. She has no idea where her bra is and this is getting weird.

“Didn’t you forget something?”

Lexa turns her head to find her bra dangling from Clarke’s index finger. She crooks her finger and it drops onto the mattress.

“Found it under my pillow. Not mine.”

“Ah, great, thanks.” Lexa leans down to take the bra. She twists it in her hands and then decides to sit down on the bed. When she looks at Clarke again, a blank face meets her. Searching eyes are scanning her face. She knows that look. She’s seen it before. Every time she gets caught before she can make an escape while they’re still asleep. Clarke is wondering what went wrong and can’t decide whether she wants to be angry or disappointed. She’s probably both.

“Clarke,” Lexa starts, trying a smile. “I’m really sorry. You seem like a nice girl.”

“Oh, do I?”

“Yes. And if we had met under different circumstances, I would stay.”

“Oh, would you?”

“Yes!”

Would she really?

“No, I wouldn’t. I just don’t do close. Although you are tempting,” Lexa adds, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Clarke sits up higher and with her abrupt movement, the sheets slide down. Lexa’s eyes drop onto the full breast that is revealed before she can stop them. When Clarke notices, she pulls the sheets up again to cover herself, hiding a grin.

“You don’t get to see that anymore. You know, you were polite and gentle last night, I really thought you were different.”

“You don’t know me. Maybe I am just an asshole.”

Lexa squirms a little under the scrutinizing look that Clarke gives her. She narrows her eyes and keeps them fixed on Lexa’s face. Lexa can almost hear an electric fizzle in the air between them. The same that had been there last night.

“No, I don’t think you are. Come here.” Clarke holds out her hand. “I’m not going to let you go like that.”

Lexa wonders why she doesn’t just go. What’s the point in prolonging this awkward situation? It’s just impossible to tear herself away though. There’s something about Clarke that makes her want to crawl back into bed and go back to sleep in her arms. Like last night, when one smile had made her feel like she could trust her.

She looks at Clarke again now, her outstretched hand within reach and decides to take it. Clarke pulls gently and Lexa suddenly doesn’t want to fight it anymore. She leans in, allowing herself to sink against Clarke’s lips and into the softest of kisses. It makes Lexa’s heart ache. She whimpers quietly which encourages Clarke to wrap her arms around her and without thinking Lexa snuggles closer. If Clarke is surprised, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she starts to gently run her fingers through Lexa’s hair.

“That’s enough now, I don’t do cuddling, remember?”

“Mhm, I know,” Clarke whispers and kisses her forehead. “Shame though, I’m the best cuddler.”

Oh, this is … she needs to get going. Lexa pushes herself up and feels Clarke’s arms slide away.

Lexa gets up and pushes her cell phone into her pocket, crumpling a few loose bills in the process. She crosses the room towards the door and puts her hand on the doorknob. Pretending to study the escape plan that hangs there, she closes her eyes briefly, still feeling the softness of Clarke’s lips on her skin. What is happening here? She straightens up and opens the door.

“I’m really sorry. Don’t think too badly of me.”

“I won’t, tiger.”

Lexa stops in the doorway to look back over her shoulder.

“Goodbye, Clarke, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

It’s a lame joke but it’s all Lexa can think of. She steps out and pulls the door shut behind her to Clarke’s hearty laugh. Her shoulders sag and she takes a couple of hesitant steps down the corridor. This just doesn’t feel right. She never feels regret like this when she leaves her one night stands. Digging around in her pocket, she pulls out a box of mints and pops one in her mouth. She wishes she had been able to take a shower and brush her teeth but that can’t be changed now.

When she reaches the elevator, she hesitates again before pushing the button. Part of her wants to go back. The other wants to run. The elevator announces its arrival and the doors slide open. Relieved to see that there’s nobody else inside, she enters and pushes the button for the lobby. Waiting for the doors to close, she looks back down the corridor, still wondering what it is about this woman that makes her heart so heavy.

Her phone vibrates in her back pocket and she pulls it out. She has a new message from an unknown number.

“I think I like you, tiger.”

Continue with chapter 2 on ao3

#clexa fic #clexa fanfiction #clexa #my fic

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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

Bowling Ball Baby

Franklin x Female Pregnant Reader

(Franklin is MGG’s character from beginner’s luck)

Gif courtesy of the ever wonderful @imagining-in-the-margins

A/N: I have recently become obsessed with Franklin because of @httpnxtt and @sunlight-moonrise so I decided to write some fluff with a dash of angst for him. I also have smut upcoming for this character as well. Thanks to my beta readers @sunlight-moonrise and @definitelynotkatesblog y’all are amazing!

Warnings: Fluff with a dash of angst, marital dispute at the beginning (is later resolved, and a few swear words.

Masterlist Word count: 1.9k (this was supposed to be a blurb lol)

Fighting with Franklin always left me at rock bottom. We both had feisty personalities but still didn’t fight often, usually just scathing quips when we were irritated. On the rare occasions when we did explode into a fight it was full of screaming, crying, and hurtful comments. Our tempers had been close to boiling over for a while now, my pregnancy hormones were making me extremely irritable and Franklin’s feisty demeanor didn’t exactly mesh well with that.

My 8 month pregnant belly felt like I was lugging around a bowling ball constantly, my back felt like it was being broken everyday. I constantly felt like I was standing on pins and needles, plus the baby felt the need to show me just how strong she or he was by kicking me in the ribs.

The fight had started after Franklin came home from work, I was sitting on our couch with my feet propped up and covered in an ice pack to relieve some of the stinging pain. Unfortunately for my poor swollen feet the ice pack did little to dull the throbbing.

“Hey, Frankie?” I called, hoping I could convince him to swap out the thawing ice pack for a frozen bag of peas.

“Not now, I’m busy.” He answered shortly, his back facing away from me, not fully acknowledging my presence. He was usually extra irritable after work; he felt trapped in his job, like it was holding him back from his dream of bowling professionally..

I huffed loudly, not that he could hear it from the other room, doing god knows what. He returned in a rush with his bowling ball bag in his hand, headed for the door, his Big Z Tires shirt hastily thrown on. My mouth fell open when I realized he was leaving for the alley.

“You’re leaving?” I squeaked, watching him while he hastily shoved a bagel in his mouth.

“I’ve got to go to practice” he muffled around a mouthful, sounding annoyed. I always supported Franklin and his dreams of being the best bowler in Little Falls, but this time I wasn’t going to let him escape his responsibilities of our relationship so easily.

“Could you skip today?” Treading lightly by asking softly. “We haven’t spent any time with each other in like a month and even then it was at the alley.”

His face switched from being annoyed to enraged despite my asking nicely, he was still going to get pissed off- figures.

“How could you be so inconsiderate- you know how important this is to me and the whole town!” he yelled. I was spooked but quickly composed myself before replying.

“I’m not being inconsiderate, you're never here.” I stated in a deadly tone, I didn’t want to make this worse by joining in on his raised voice. “I understand it’s the most important thing in Little Falls, but shouldn’t our baby be more important to you?!”

All I got in response was a dismissive scoff. I could feel myself getting angrier, we’d both said we wanted a baby and for the past month he acted like he couldn’t care less.

“You might as well go move into the bowling alley.” I mumbled under my breath, fiery spite fueling my words.

“Even with the pins, it’d still be quieter than your nagging.” he shot back.

“Excuse me?!” Now it was my turn to shout; he just had to continue to stoke the fire increasing in my belly. I waddled my way to stand right in front of him, ignoring the pain of my swollen feet. I didn't want him to wiggle his way out, if he wanted an argument he was going to get one, he was the one who started it after all.

“All you’ve done is whined and complained these past few weeks.” He was acting like a hypocrite, whining and complaining to me about something we both agreed to do together. I had never felt more alone.

“How would you know? You’re never here to spend time with me!” The timbre of my voice cracked as my heart started to shatter.

“Just stop, ok? I get it you’re pregnant but come on Y/N it can’t take that much hard work!” That comment was the straw that broke the camel's back, my anger turned to melancholy as hot tears spilled over onto my cheeks as I waddled away as fast as I could back to our bedroom.

I could hear his desperate voice trying to get me to come back, offering any pleading or begging he could think of, but I wasn’t having it. As I got to our room I slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it tight so he couldn’t follow me. If he wanted to act like a dick, he'll sleep on the couch for the night. Knocks started to hit the door with his voice barely permeating through the wood imploring me to let him in.

Tears fell down my cheeks while I rubbed my belly, all I wanted was for us to be a happy family, but I needed Franklin to be fully committed. Sinking down onto our bed I contemplated where this left us. I almost packed a bag to stay with a friend for the night but I was too tired to go through with it, the fighting had taken all the energy out of me. The mattress cuddled my body but it wasn’t as good as Franklin, which only made the drops fall harder. My sadness deepened when the knocks stopped, the room now a void, offering no comfort to me. Dread sat in my belly as I drifted off into a restless sleep.

~~~

Physically and emotionally I was strung out, I was in no mood to talk or argue so I had been tiptoeing around Franklin all day, his behavior had made me seriously start to question if he was truly invested in our relationship. Once dinner rolled around I padded my way into the kitchen, the baby had been craving some sweets and I was highly considering just binging on candy.

I glanced over to the stove to find a ridiculous sight standing before me. Franklin had his bowling shirt on- he honestly rarely took it off and had about 5 of them. Covering most of the front of his yellow button up was a baby sling I had bought a few weeks ago in preparation, in it sat my old purple bowling ball I used when I was in Highschool. He must’ve dug it out of our closet as I hadn’t used it since our last competition senior year. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I reminisced about the old team where we’d first met. I gazed at the 8 pound perfectly round ball, weighing down and stretching the fabric directly in the middle, it looked exactly like what you’d think a bowling ball in a baby sling would look- ridiculous.

“I remember you saying you’ve been craving something sweet so I decided to make pancakes for dinner, I even added chocolate chips.” He spoke, breaking me out of my memory. I hadn’t even noticed he was making pancakes, my focus on the bowling ball strapped to his stomach.

“We’re not going to talk about the bowling ball?”

“Well I was being a dick-” I swiftly cut him off. My rage was being stoked slightly by his whimsical attitude, I couldn’t tell if he was trying to cheer me up or was really that thick and couldn’t understand my frustrations.

“Yeah, that’s the understatement of the century.” I’m sure the steely edge to my tone was not lost on Franklin, and I still wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of eye contact.

“Like I was saying- I was being a dick and I was thinking to myself, ‘Frankie she’s carrying the weight of the relationship right now. You want to get inside a woman’s head? You become a woman.’ So I thought I’d join you in solidarity- as an apology.”

Silence filled my part of the conversation as I pondered his words. It certainly was an odd way for someone to make up a fight, usually people bought flowers, chocolate, or go on a fancy date. Franklin, however, always had a way of apologizing in the most obnoxious and ridiculous ways that were incredibly sweet, but also made me want to bang my head against the wall. He had stopped flipping the pancakes, anxiously awaiting my reply to his apology. The slight char they were getting wafted a burnt smell through the air.

“This is the first thing you thought of for an apology?” I giggled out breaking the tense silence, his shoulders relaxed as he let out an audible puff of breath. I may have found this funny but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook just yet.

“Well- you know me, I’m not very good at apologies.” He said in a regretful tone, turning back to the pancakes finally removing the almost carbonized pancake from the skillet. A cringe made its way onto his face after catching sight of the rubbery burnt cake and swiftly chucked it in the trash. “I really am sorry Y/N.”

“You’re saying that now because your back hurts- Am I right?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, still not fully accepting this apology.

“No, that’s not the main reason I’m apologizing, but yes, oh my god my back fucking hurts.” His right hand started to massage his sore back as his other poured in the last scrapes of pancakes, sprinkling it with an exorbitant amount of chocolate chips. My mouth was watering at the sight and delicious aroma.

“How long have you been wearing it?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the heavenly scent.

“Like 10 minutes, I totally understand why you waddle now” Flipping over the last pancake, he started to set the table, his waddles were even more awkward compared to mine because of his long limbs.

“Well now that you understand, you’d better be massaging my feet everyday to make up for it.” I sharply stated though I couldn’t help but slip in a few giggles in between. I had been carrying this baby close to 9 months and Franklin could barely handle 10 minutes without keeling over.

“Yes, of course. I promise.” He set the plates of pancakes down on our round table, then pulled out one of the chairs and helped me sit down. I noticed that he had even set up the silverware in its supposed proper place along with the napkins folded into little triangles, he did go all out to make it up to me.“You know, you're the actual god in this family.” He remarked as he slung off the baby sling, relieving the tension from his back. I wished I could do the same.

“I love you, you big weirdo.” I snorted in response. While his godliness was usually referring to his bowling skills, it was nice to have my literal creation and carrying of life inside of me acknowledged too.

“I love you too” He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing soft kisses to my neck and rubbing my belly, silently assuring me that everything would be alright.

#franklin #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #franklin x reader #mgg #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #beginner’s luck #franklin imagine #franklin fanfic #franklin fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic

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vietzuko · 4 years ago

Text

if we used to share a discord server, this post is for you!

hello! i am going to try to do this as anonymously and non-confrontationally as possible. i do not want this to be a spectacle or call out post, but i will say that i am quite disturbed by the way situations have transpired on the server.

in case you didn’t notice, i left! when i left, i wrote a little goodbye post in #general, which has since been deleted. either the mods deleted my goodbye or they banned me from the server (which automatically would delete my message). in case you didn’t see it, here was my goodbye message:

hi everyone, i’m leaving the server. if you’re a POC who is interested in joining an ATLA server where POC can talk about ATLA and critically discuss race, feel free to PM me for a link! otherwise, this is goodbye. see you all around.

i won’t rehash everything that happened in the events leading to this, nor will i name names in this post. if you were on the server, you probably saw what happened publicly or you can message me personally, either here or on discord. if we know each other through the server and you want some clarity over names/events in this post, please PM me.

if you are a POC in the ATLA fandom who is concerned by the events of this post and you would like me to clarify which server i’m talking about, please PM me.

i just wanted to share the very long message that i sent to the mods (on their prompting!) because i feel that it shows my perspective on what transpired. unfortunately, this message did not result in any meaningful change, except for me getting banned/my messages removed from the server. i suppose that’s a type of meaning! haha.

anyway. here’s the message. cw for racism, yellowface

hi MOD 1 (and presumably the other mods who will read this message)! thanks for reaching out. i’ve had some time to dwell on the situation and discuss it with other people in the server who witnessed it and reached out to me personally. this is going to be an unbelievably long message, so i apologize in advance and thank you for your time in reading it.

i think the first thing i’d like to do is give some context for the incident and to give my perspective on why i said the things i said.

i have PMed a mod about a racist incident in the server exactly once. it was when i first joined, and i saw a picture of a white person in yellowface in the cosplay channel. i didn’t know any of you personally yet (and this was before some of you even joined on as mods). i have since told SERVER MEMBER 1 about this incident and i’m pretty sure they mentioned it to you because i noticed you’ve changed the yellowface rule. but i think that the context of me pinging a mod about a racist incident and then witnessing another (although less egregious) instance of racism by the mods might explain why i am, in general, hesitant about talking to mods about racism on the server. i am just trying to live my life and experience as few micro-aggressions as possible.

i also think the fact that i regularly educate and push back against white people’s racially harmful messages in the server is also important context. i realize none of you likely know this, but about every two weeks i receive an unsolicited PM from a different white person apologizing/asking for forgiveness/asking for reassurance/asking further questions about their racism on the server. i’m glad people are learning from me, but this is a huge amount of emotional labor that i put into the server and its members because of course i have to reply and explain things and tell them not to worry and thank them for apologizing, etc. i know that these messages aren’t your fault, nor am i asking you to do anything about this. but it feels important that you know the price that i (and perhaps other poc in the server, although i can’t speak to that) pay in order to share space with you.

MOD 2 has even messaged me personally to thank me for educating people in the server and responding to racist messages, saying: “really appreciate how much effort you put in and everything, i was trying to type something up but floundering badly.” it was a nice message, and i appreciated it a lot! it also led me to believe that the mods would prefer if i engage with racist messages myself, rather than ping them, because it felt like i was just going to be more able/willing to articulate a response anyway.

so when SERVER MEMBER 2 messaged the zukka channel “thought that lives in my head rent free: Sokka's hairstyle in canon is just a warrior's hairstyle and has meaning because of that. Sokka wearing the same hairstyle in a modern AU is undisputably queer-coded” and nobody replied for a while, i assumed that it was because they had seen what i had seen-- a racially insensitive message that totally ignores sokka’s indigenous heritage and the history behind indigenous hair-- so i decided to step in with what i thought was a balanced response.

SERVER MEMBER 2 then replied with a cheery “Fair enough! I will defer to your greater knowledge,” which i couldn’t tell was sarcastic or not, but i decided to be generous and to believe they were genuinely thankful for my reply, so i responded with a “you too can have great knowledge. i only know things because i read things. anyone can read things and learn,” which is something i firmly believe and also a way to divert the conversation away from SERVER MEMBER 2’s mistake, which i felt was the most dignified solution for them. i suppose this message could be read as aggressive because i didn’t use exclamation marks? but that feels unfair and ungenerous because i genuinely did not mean this message in a harsh way.

then SERVER MEMBER 3 jumped in and asked a few questions, which i read as a request for clarification, so i tried to continue to explain my point. it felt like SERVER MEMBER 3 wasn’t understanding what i was trying to explain, or at least i wasn’t able to articulate myself well enough, which was making me a little tired and stressy (and i was also thinking about my own race and queerness in stressful and triggering ways), so i decided to tap out of the conversation.

me: dude i love u and i respect u and i truly believe that u are trying very hard to understand, but this conversation is making me kinda heated

SERVER MEMBER 3: I’m gonna step back from it because it’s not my conversation to insert myself into, which is what I did initially and apologize for

me: i think it's so important to engage + ask questions & i appreciate that u respect my opinions on these things, but i think i'm just. i have said what i need to say and now must sleep. much love to all.

to me, this felt like me expressing that i was feeling tired and upset and leaving the conversation, while still attempting to reassure SERVER MEMBER 3 that i still admired him as a friend. i felt like the conversation had ended peacefully!

i hope this helps explain why MOD 3’s message came as such a surprise.

“the escalation to defensiveness and accusation regarding the original (relatively benign) statement was unnecessary and exaggerated. There’s an atmosphere of purity policing that’s been growing, which is why I took away the squick channel, as I assumed that a space that encouraged no repercussions was facilitating irresponsibility aggressive arguments. “

i truly didn’t believe i was being defensive. i was very careful not to accuse anyone of anything. in fact, i tried as far as i could to coat my language in “i” statements-- “i would personally not choose…”, “i would just. stay away from…” in order to avoid “accusations.” i was also trying very hard not to be aggressive, and i (and other poc that i have spoken to about this) believe that the idea that my messages were aggressive is racialized. just because a poc is upset about racism, it doesn’t mean they’re attacking you personally!

i feel so hurt that my messages were wilfully interpreted in this way, instead of being read generously and from a more compassionate perspective, especially since i voiced my own upset and discomfort during the conversation. it distresses me to think that me expressing negative emotions is seen as aggressive, rather than a cause for empathy or care, and i do believe that this is because of my race.

if a mod had asked me to take the messages to the DMs or to squick or even just let me know that someone was interpreting my messages as aggressive, i would have changed my behavior. (like i said earlier, i spend a HUGE amount of energy coddling white people on this server. i am very used to it.)

instead, i got the shock of 45 minutes after the fact, being publicly chastised and labeled as aggressive and being told that my conversation was “something nasty or unwanted.”

the idea that SERVER MEMBER 3 was de-escalating a “clearly escalating situation” feels untrue to me. i was ready to move on after i sent my message to SERVER MEMBER 2, but he kept engaging me on the subject! (no hate to SERVER MEMBER 3 on this.)

i think one of the most painful parts of this whole situation is the implication that i was attempting to “purity police,” as though i am a person who picks fights just because i want to feel good about picking fights?? or to act holier-than-thou???? i do not do this. if you have witnessed ANY interaction i’ve had with a racially insensitive white person on the server, you will know this.

i am simply a person of color trying to live my life. i do not want to fight about racism. i want to chill out and watch my cartoons. unfortunately, sometimes, someone will say something that i consider racially insensitive and i will do my best to engage and explain why i find this insensitive. that is all. (it is important to note that most of the time, when i see racially insensitive things on the server, i do not say anything because i am tired and it is a lot of effort to engage. i truly only engaged this time because nobody had replied to the message and i was just like, oh, fine, i guess i’ll educate, since no one else has!)

this whole incident has honestly made me really hurt and disrespected. i have enjoyed my time on the server and i have made some good friends there. however, it feels clearer and clearer to me that the server is a space where white feelings of safety (not being criticized for their racist content) are prioritized over poc’s feelings of safety (not having to witness and experience racist content). i sincerely considered myself to be an active and enthusiastic member of the server, maybe even friends with some of you, but it feels to me that all of our previous positive interactions have been displaced by this idea of me as an aggressive, overzealous purity cop who calls things racist for fun.

i don’t even know how to repair my relationship with the server after this because i really do feel horrible and sick about the whole thing. i have spoken to other poc who also expressed their concerns about the way the mods handled the situation, even if these other poc weren’t directly involved, and some of us are considering leaving the server, if we haven’t already. (i would also like to note that these people reached out to me, unprompted, to make sure i was doing okay after what they and i interpreted as a micro-aggression by the mods. like, we independently read the situation in this way.)

(also, not sure if this matters, but i talked to SERVER MEMBER 3 the morning after the incident because i wanted to make sure he was okay, and we both ended up apologizing to each other and having a really good and productive talk.)

thanks again for reading this. i hope that you’ll be able to better understand my perspective on what occurred. i truly appreciate the work that you put into the server (especially as someone who also puts work into the server lol), and i know it’s difficult to mod a large server (i also mod an atla server!), but i continue to feel hurt about this. i know it’s hard to read tone over server messages, but i really wish that my (and SERVER MEMBER 4′s and SERVER MEMBER 5′s ) server messages had been read with greater compassion.

...

and that’s all folks! i’m going to be remaking my blog soon, partially because this whole experience has exhausted me and partially because i have been meaning to anonymize my internet presence for some time.

#felix.txt

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deathduty · 3 years ago

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Pain of the Week || Deirdre & Milo

TIMING: Current LOCATION: An alley somewhere PARTIES: @deathduty & @wickedmilo CONTENT: discussions of addiction, drug abuse and drug use. Medical blood (for first aid), gore (removal of debris from wound), suicidal ideation (death imagery) SUMMARY: A vampire finds a banshee in an alley. A vampire decides to help; a banshee calls him stupid. OR two grumpy people insult each other

Milo wasn’t drunk, but he definitely wasn’t sober, and as he wandered down the empty suburban streets of White Crest, he used the alcohol in his system to suppress any memories of Dani, and his parents. Avoidance wasn’t exactly a healthy coping mechanism but he couldn’t care less about that fact. So long as he could stop thinking about her, so long as he could stop thinking about them. If only for a brief, blissful moment in time, he wanted to forget what he was, his new life and the complications brought with it. But when had he ever gotten his way? When had life ever been that easy, especially now? The scent of blood hit him first, followed by the quiet sound of ragged breathing, and he realised the town had well and truly swallowed him whole when his first response wasn’t shock, or fear, or concern. But rather frustration, and resignation. He was growing used to unusual situations, growing used to being chased, or hurt, or coming across others who were being chased, or hurt. It made him wonder whether White Crest had always been this dark. According to his supernatural friends, it had been. And yet, how could anyone be so unaware of the violence? He had been living in ignorance for twenty-two years, oblivious to the things that were happening around him. And now that he was finally being forced to address them, there didn’t seem to be an escape.

Regardless of his annoyance, regardless of another walk home being interrupted by something that was very much not his problem, he knew he needed to offer his help. As selfish as he was, as self absorbed, and inconsiderate, there were certain lines he wouldn’t cross. Sure, he might steal someone’s wallet to pay for a hit, or look the other way during a bar fight he didn’t want to get involved in. But leaving somebody alone, and injured, when there was nobody else around, felt beyond wrong. In the same way he had insisted upon helping Raina, he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t insist upon helping this person. Whoever they were, whatever their circumstance. Letting out a pointed huff of breath, he changed direction, crossing the street to head towards the source of the blood. It was easy to follow the scent, and it didn’t take him long to reach a small alley between businesses, the buildings closed and locked up for the night. “Uh… hello?” He called, eyeing the woman he could see sitting between the narrow brick walls. Her legs were flat against the floor, and his eyes were drawn to the pool of blood steadily building beneath them both. “Are- are you okay?” Wow, what a ridiculous question. But he wasn’t exactly well versed in the etiquette of helping bleeding strangers. “I mean, you know... can I help?”

Deirdre was used to pain. Sometimes, it seemed she lived in it—cycles of her pain, other’s pain. Sometimes, it was just a matter of what pain of the week it was. This week: her legs. Some creature had found her to be easy prey. It clawed and scratched and stabbed and bit at her legs, as she tried to kick it away. Normally, she was a killer. Normally, creatures of that sort never got close enough to hurt her. But she stared into its hungry eyes, and knew it was not a creature of malice. And perhaps she had grown tired of all the pain she caused, but she couldn’t bring herself to do more than let loose and harmless scream and stumble away. With Deirdre’s palms screaming red as she scraped them along the rough alleyway brick, she tried to find steady footing. She couldn’t walk like that, she could hardly stand. Soon, she wasn’t doing either. She slipped to the floor, hissing and cursing on her way down. Getting home wouldn’t be as easy as hailing a cab in the night hours. She didn’t know how many minutes passed with her sitting on the damp ground, painting with her blood, only that when she did open her eyes, a boy was staring at her.

“I don’t need your help,” she hissed at the boy. “And I don’t want your help. Do I look like a charity case? Do I look like I need help? I’m perfectly fine, you idiotic--” Her leg protested. Deirdre winced and leaned forward, beads of sweat rolling down her face. “I don’t need…” She reiterated, “I don’t need…” Normally, she never asked for help. As it turned out, she wasn’t her normal self. “...help me…”

Milo raised his eyebrows, almost shocked out of his hesitance by the venom behind the woman’s words. “Okay, yeah- fuck me, right? The guy asking you if you need any help. It’s not like you’re bleeding on the fucking ground.” He laughed, resisting the urge to give her what she wanted. If he left her alone it would certainly save him a lot of trouble. Moving closer, despite her rather forceful insistence, he realised there was an edge to the scent of her blood, something sweet, and alluring, and decidedly not human. Whatever the Hell she was, he could only hope she wouldn’t pose a threat to him. Not when he was genuinely trying to do the right thing. Without giving the memory permission to surface, he was suddenly thrown back to his first attack, his first time drinking human blood. He had been in an alleyway just like this one, only a stranger had been offering him help. He had killed them. He had watched them die. Apparently good intentions meant jack shit in this town.

Watching for a brief moment as his company seemed to struggle against the pain she was in, it took a surprisingly short amount of time for her to admit defeat. Eyeing the blood on the ground, taking a moment to ensure he wasn’t about to lose it, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Apparently other people weren’t the only danger now, he was very much a part of it. A new member of the twisted, underground community responsible for so much pain, and suffering. But he was determined not to hurt her, and hopefully, if she became aggressive, he would be able to fend her off in her current state. His parents were doctors, they had basically been grooming him his entire life to follow them into the profession. If anybody could do this, he could. He needed to try, at the very least. “Oh, so now you want the idiot’s help?” He asked pointedly, moving to crouch before her in an attempt to find where the blood was coming from. “Are you going to tell me how you’re injured or would you rather insult my intelligence again?”

The boy was not human. Deirdre knew this because, as he neared, he stank. Not of sweat and questionable body spray like most human boys of his presumed age range (how old was he? 16?) but the way she had grown up on. A stench that buried deep in her heart, filling her with warmth. Being a banshee meant she knew these things; being fae meant she was tasty to the undead of the world. She groaned. Was he going to use her legs like a water fountain? The last thing she wanted, after being attacked, was being licked by a boy in an alley. “No, I’d rather just insult you,” she hissed, “you pea-brained, piss-filled, wet bread ex-human.” It occurred to her that she should probably be kind to the boy who might help her. It was a thought that didn’t linger for long. “Do you even know what to do?” She asked in more of a grumble. “And I don’t need your help, you prepubescent—” She wheezed again, cursing as she gripped her leg. Don’t be mean to the boy who can help—this time, the thought lingered.

“I’m sorry,” she conceded in a whisper. “It just...hurts. I think...I think there must be something stuck in my thigh. Normally I would be healing now but…” Deirdre winced and knocked her head against the brick. Through clenched teeth, she tried to point the spot out to him. “I was attacked,” she explained plainly, “what else do you think happens in this town? And you can’t see my ass from your angle, but I’m a real snack.” She tried to smirk, but in her state, the best she could do was a tight-mouthed, toothy wince. “Are you going to help me, or not?”

Milo listened to the woman berate him, almost amused by her insults until she called him an ex-human. His expression hardened, and he glared at her. It wasn’t as though he needed the reminder of everything he had lost, especially not now, when he was trying to help someone. “Yes, actually. I’m sure that comes as a fucking shock.” He bit out. “My parents are doctors, they kind of raised me to follow in their footsteps…” Leaning back on his heels, he eyed the woman. The fact that she knew he wasn’t human implied she wasn’t human herself. The smell of her blood had made him suspicious, but her words offered him undeniable confirmation. Usually, he would be annoyed by the knowledge. Where were all the humans in White Crest? Living normal lives? Away from this chaos? But he actually felt a strange spark of hope. If she wasn’t a human there was a good chance she healed a Hell of a lot faster than one. Continuing to glare, he sincerely hoped he didn’t look prepubescent and she was only trying to get to him. Jeez, the thought of being perceived as a teenager forever wasn’t exactly a fun one. “I’m 22, asshole.” He muttered. “Like, actually 22, before you ask.” It felt necessary to add given what he was now, even if it did essentially out him.

Beginning to carefully roll up his sleeves, he chose to ignore the apology. He had a reputation for utilising his sharp tongue when he was angry, upset, or hurt in some way. He knew exactly what the woman was doing, the least he could do was make an effort to be understanding. “Yeah, no shit it hurts. In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re bleeding out in an alleyway.” He made an effort to soften his tone, matching the way she had carefully softened her own. “How is your healing?” He asked. “If we get this shit out, are you going to be good to walk?” He knew that healing abilities greatly depended on the severity of the wound, but he figured she would know better than him just how badly she was injured. His mind running through the various ways of dealing with a potential stab wound, you weren’t supposed to remove the item until you were safely inside a hospital but that wasn’t exactly an option here. “Hm, I’m gay. Don’t flatter yourself.” He countered, resisting the urge to point out she could still be considered a snack. Only literally. “Yes, I’m going to help you. Why else would I still be here putting up with your bullshit?” He asked. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to do this- show me where you’re hurt? This thing that attacked you, I’m assuming it wasn’t a person… do you know what it was?”

Doctors... Deirdre stewed the thought in her head. Parents that wanted him to be a doctor, but now he was a vampire. Was that tragic or funny? “You look like a teenager,” she muttered instead, turning her face away from him. Sympathy for a stranger wasn’t her style, she wasn’t about to make it. Yet, as she decided she wasn’t going to ask, wasn’t going to care, was simply going to make this kid help her and then throw cash in his face, something he said stuck out to her. Actually 22. She turned back to him and the annoyance in her features softened. “Are you new?” She asked him, “newly turned, I mean.” Deirdre opened her mouth to say more; part of her wanted to say she was sorry, another part knew there was no point. He must’ve been sorry enough for himself. His parents wanted him to be a doctor, he was a vampire. She turned her face away again.

“It’ll take me a bit, but I’ll be fine,” the banshee sighed, turning her eyes to the dark sky above. “I don’t heal like a zombie, but I heal faster than a human. And I’ve been hurt worse, and walked in worse conditions.” As he continued, she turned back to him, surprised to find a chuckle escaping her lips. “Well, you’d still know a good ass when you see one, wouldn’t you? Or are you tasteless and stupid?” Deirdre reached down, tearing up her dress to get it out of the way. “It was--” She grunted, the shrill sound of ripping fabric cutting her off. “--something like you.” Deirdre glanced up. “A spawn. Something you very well could’ve been turned into.” She paused, having torn up her dress enough to expose the wound. “Assuming, of course. Maybe you’re of the brain-eating sort, I don’t know.” She pointed out the spot where the cut was the deepest, where she felt the most pain. “I think maybe its nail broke off, or a finger.”

Milo glared at the woman, giving her his most powerful deadpan stare. If she wanted him to help then she needed to stop insulting him. At least, he spitefully wanted to think that. He had a feeling both of them knew he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from her. “And thank you for that boost of confidence.” He countered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He opened his mouth to continue, to make it clear how annoyed he was by her consistent mutterings, but he witnessed her expression shift, and was caught off guard by her next words. He wasn’t expecting sympathy, or empathy, or whatever this was. He hadn’t been given time to build up his walls, and the alcohol in his system certainly wasn’t helping him to hide his pain. “New enough.” He admitted. “It’s been a few months, not that it’s any of your business. What are you going to do, plan a memorial? Tell me you’re sorry that I’m going to look like a fucking teenager forever? I don’t want to hear it.” He pointedly turned his attention to her leg as she began to tear away the material of her dress, hoping he could hide his expression.

“Give me that.” He said, holding out a hand, gesturing for her to fully tear away the strip of material. At least then he would be able to stem the bleeding. He could only hope supernatural creatures followed a similar logic to humans when it came to blood flow. Faster than a Human. That was good. Even if stemming the blood flow didn’t help it to congeal around the wound, she would begin healing the moment he removed what was embedded in her flesh. He nodded to let her know he had registered her comment, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as she continued. Jeez, did she ever shut up? “Well, maybe I’m a bottom and I have more important things to worry about.” He countered, saying the first thing that came to his mind because he couldn’t bear to give her the satisfaction of winning. Feeling his heart sink at the mention of a Spawn, he didn’t need the reminder of how close he had come to becoming one himself. How somebody had killed him, and turned him, not knowing what his fate might be.

“You think I don’t know that?” He snapped. “Lucky for you, I’m still Milo, and I think I’ll be sticking with blood.” Were there vampires who ate brains? Or was she talking about zombies? Maybe she didn’t know which undead creature he was. He shelved the question for another time. Harsh would know, and the man seemed to have a strange sense of patience when it came to his never ending questions. Wrinkling his nose at the mention of a nail or a finger breaking off, he wasn’t entirely sure which possibility was more disturbing. A Spawn was a person, after all. Or a Spawn used to be a person. His heart broke for whoever had been forced to suffer in such a way, whoever had lost themselves to become such a monster. “I don’t exactly have any tweezers, are you going to be good if I like- get in there and remove whatever it is?” He had no other choice, it needed to happen, but asking for permission first felt like the right thing to do. “I’ll do it as quickly as I can. I’m not out to hurt you, even if you are incredibly annoying.”

It wasn’t Deirdre’s business. She knew that. This child—Milo—was telling her that. She was telling herself that. And yet, her mouth opened without her meaning for it too. Her voice drifted out soft and warm and apologetic. “Did you get a memorial?” She asked, “you could have one now. All the dead deserve to be remembered; as they were, and in your case, as they will be.” But it wasn’t her business, and she liked calling the brat annoying more than she did thinking about how sad and terrible his life must’ve been. All their lives were, that was just the thing about pain anyway.

“You would be a bottom,” Deirdre said, hoping it came off as scathing as she wanted it to. Her legs burned, and the only person who could help her was some tragic undead child. That alone was enough to make her grumpy, but as Milo suggested it, she realized the bratty vampire would have to stick his fingers into her thigh. Which was exactly as terrible as it sounded. “Some vampires don’t realize,” she clarified with a groan, preparing herself for the pain to come, “how close they were to becoming something else. If it had just been a different vampire that turned up. If the intention had been different…” Her words trailed off, knowing she had no real point to make. “You’re stupid,” she said suddenly, as she realized she was being too nice to him. “Go ahead and stick your hand inside. I very well can’t do it myself, or else I wouldn’t be here.”

Milo faltered, opting to feel anger instead of the many emotions threatening to break through and overwhelm him. Who did this woman think she was, asking him such personal questions, questions he hadn’t even considered until now? It infuriated him because he didn’t want to feel. He didn’t want to think about everything he had lost, the fact that he really was dead, the fact that somebody had targeted him, killed him, and clearly walked away from his body without caring what might become of it. “I was born and raised here.” He snapped, an edge to his voice as he tied the strip of material around the top of her thigh. His movements were probably sharper than they needed to be, and he definitely tightened the knot with more force than necessary, but it was proving to be a helpful outlet for his frustration. “Kind of hard to have a memorial for someone you see walking around at night.” When the blood flow had been stemmed, he began using the sleeve of his hoodie to scrub away as much blood as he was able to. It was coating her skin, making it difficult to see exactly where the injury was. “I don’t want a memorial.” He insisted, only briefly looking up so that he could glare at her. “I don’t want to be remembered. I’m still here… saving your ass.”

When he could adequately see the entry point of whatever was embedded in his company’s flesh, he began to roll up his bloody sleeves, ignoring the sweet scent that permeated from them. “Yeah? Don’t be jealous because my sex life is more interesting than yours.” He countered, despite his sex life currently being very, very uninteresting. After becoming a vampire, the last thing on his mind had been getting laid. He was far too focused on maintaining his existential crisis. “I do realise.” His voice was dripping with bitterness, and he made no effort to hide that fact. Her words were drawing out memories he would much rather forget, he was being forced back into the fear, and anxiety he had been drowning in the night his life had been stolen. “I’m stupid?” He demanded an explanation, refusing to let the comment go. “Really? Why? Because I got myself killed? From where I’m sitting it looks like you nearly did the fucking same like, ten minutes ago.” Giving her no warning, the moment she offered him permission he slid his thumb and forefinger into her puncture wound.

The anger in his chest was almost helpful, it allowed him to concentrate on anything but what he was actually doing. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of heat, muscle, and slick blood, It didn’t take long before he discovered what he assumed to be the nail or finger. Slowly he began to inch it backwards, so that he didn’t lose his grip. It seemed to have scraped against bone, which was definitely why it had broken off, and not been pulled out when the creature had been forced to withdraw. He shuddered to think about how painful it must have been for the woman beneath him, about how painful it must be for her now. As irritating as she was, he couldn’t bring himself to delight in her pain. He wasn’t that person. He had vowed to never be that person. So he was careful, and considerate, his movements slow, and gentle in a way they hadn’t been only moments before. “I’m sorry- If I do this too quickly I could cause more damage… just- a couple more seconds, okay?”

“That’s not true,” Deirdre was quick to retort, wincing at herself. Perhaps it was a sensitive subject for her given Morgan’s death? Yes, yes, that sounded right. Deirdre sighed and clung to that explanation. Morgan had mourned herself and pained over the lack of recognition of her death in the world. The idea of a memorial sounded nice to her. Did it sound that way to this child too? “To move on, to move past it...wouldn’t it be something to face? Memorialize? Wouldn’t you want to? Don’t you think someone other than yourself should mourn you?” Deirdre winced again, this time from the pain and jostled forward with ragged breathing. She could see the child glaring at her through the corner of her eyes, and truthfully, she would too if some lady she was forced to save was trying to philosophize about something she didn’t know. But Death was a force she knew well, better than anyone else ever could. She was born to it. She lived by it. And one day it would claim her servitude.

But that day was not today, and she wouldn’t let it be. To die in the hands of a bratty vampire would be embarrassing enough to cause her ghost to haunt the alley forever. And she would’ve liked not staring at damp bricks for eternity. “My sex life is very exciting, thank you very much,” Deirdre huffed, “in fact, it’s very active and just yesterday my girlfriend and I—why am I telling you this?” She groaned, knocking her head against the brick behind her. It seemed all she could do was lean forward or back, and both caused undesirable pain. “No you’re stupid because you’re stupid,” she growled, “and I didn’t—I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. I’m not.” She always worried any wheeze or cough of pain would be a scream waiting to rip out of her, but if that was the case, it would’ve happened ten minutes ago.

Unless it was the child’s shoddy doctor work that would do her in. “I’m used to this,” she confessed, addled with pain that grew sharper and sharper as the child dug around. But what she’d said was true. She knew a life of pain, she had been raised to endure it. Deirdre had suffered far worse than this, and that truth was the only thing that kept her awake and hissing. But in her agony, where the world turned dark and then white, she always thought it was like looking into Death. It smelt like fresh cut grass, and it sounded like the jingle of cow bells. The sort of place she’d like to be, the sort of place that wanted her. Unfortunately, in the moments between her spasms of pain, it was just old brick to look at. “Were you a med student when it happened?” Her head rolled to the side, staring at him. “Bright prospects? Future to look forward to? Boyfriend waiting for you?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to move past it- you know what, no. We’re not having this conversation.” Milo snapped. He had more important things to worry about, he refused to get drawn into an argument. “No.” He insisted, his tone laced with aggression. “I don’t want other people to mourn me. I’m still in their lives, I’m still here, I’m still me. There’s nothing to fucking mourn.” Of course, that wasn’t true. There was an awful lot to mourn, but he wasn’t about to admit that, not when this woman clearly thought she had the answers to all of his problems. Laughing, unable to help himself, the sound was sharp, but not devoid of genuine amusement. He enjoyed the fact that he had clearly gotten to her. The pain might be making her delirious, or keeping any filters she had in place from working, but his attempts to annoy her had evidently been successful. “I don’t know, but you sound awfully defensive.” He replied, ignoring the comment on his stupidity as he focused on his task. For a brief moment he could see an element of fear, or anxiety. Something that made the woman beneath him seem incredibly vulnerable. It didn’t feel right to continue in their back and forth when she was quite literally in agony.

“I know you’re not.” He assured her. “You’re going to be fine, okay? I just gotta remove this thing…” It didn’t matter to him what she was used to. Be it pain, dangerous situations, clumsily applying first aid while sitting in a pool of blood… nobody deserved to hurt like she was currently hurting. Chewing on his tongue as he concentrated on what he was doing, he was still in the process of carefully drawing out whatever had created the puncture wound when she decided to ask about his past. It seemed every time he softened towards her, she found a new way to upset him. He considered her question, despite not wanting to. For the first time ever his heart was aching for the life he would never have. He wasn’t the type of person who went to med school, and settled down. But until recently that had been his own choice to make. Now he couldn’t do those things. Even if he wanted to, they didn’t feel like options. He wasn’t going to find a stable career, or a boyfriend who loved him. Nobody was going to grow old with him. Choking on an emotion he couldn’t quite place, he dug his fingers into the woman’s injury with an unfair amount of force. “No.” He admitted, his voice cold, and distant. “I gave up any chance of that when I chose getting high over going to class.” Twisting his fingers yet again, he tugged at the object embedded in her thigh, his jaw set, his body tense. “And I don’t date.”

“Not ‘move past’ but….” Deirdre held her tongue; he didn’t want to talk about it. And she, for that matter, wasn’t supposed to care about it. “Don’t you want them to know how it hurts?” She was speaking partially to herself now, delirious with pain and knowing the child didn’t care to listen anyway. “How much you’ve lost? You’re still here, but you’re not you. Not the same. Maybe you’re better off like this. Maybe it’ll be okay. But don’t you want someone to remember that you had a life? A life that was worth living?” And then he laughed, and the sharp sound broke her train of thought. “Or something like that…” she mumbled.

And then it was her turn to laugh, and she did so readily. How funny to be comforted by a stranger. “I’m not going to die because I woul–“ Deirdre’s sentence halted with a cry of pain, she bit down on the inside of her cheek until she could taste sweet copper simply to stop herself from screaming. Her lungs burned as she swallowed down more gasps of agony. As annoying as the child was, she thought it would be wise not to scream right at him. Maybe she really would die, it almost felt like the child was trying to kill her. “Just take it out, you grape-sized-brain having stinky child!” It wasn’t her finest insult, but control in moments of impulse were her specialty, and so she also thought it was wise to censor at least some of her thoughts around the boy. “Not ‘give up’...” she spoke through clenched teeth, “you didn’t give anything up, you idiot. Nothing is over until–” you die. Or, that was the adage her family imparted. But he was dead, and what did that mean for him? “–until it’s over.” She rasped, “and don’t act like sadness and loneliness is the only choice you can make.” Deirdre huffed. “Idiot.”

“I am.” Milo snapped, his voice cracking with emotion, giving away how terrified, and upset he was by the statement. His biggest fear was losing who he was, and now somebody was here, telling him he already had. Blinking away tears, he took a deep breath, desperate to hide how badly her words had affected him. “I’m still Milo, and I still have a life. So you can stop it, okay? Just- just stop it. I don’t give a shit about memorials, or mourning… I don’t…” He swallowed his emotion to the best of his ability, focusing on keeping his hands from shaking. He was trying to do something good, something selfless. Why did it have to be so difficult? Glancing up briefly, he didn’t get to hear why the woman knew she wasn’t going to die, but maybe that was for the best. Her cry of pain reminded him of why he needed to be careful, and despite his inner turmoil, he genuinely didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t like hearing how much agony she was suffering.

Then she was insulting him again, and it was everything he could do not to make his task hurt even more than it already did. Apparently it was going to be a constant back and forth. “Most people are smart enough to not insult their doctors.” He muttered, any bite from his voice long gone, replaced with a melancholy sense of resignation. “And if you call me an idiot one more time I might actually leave you here.” He added, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as the object steadily became visible. “I’m not acting like anything. I’m not sad, or lonely, so you can fuck off with that bullshit-” He broke off as whatever the spawn had left behind finally came free. It was solid, but not enough to feel like bone. More like cartilage, or keratin. The shape vaguely resembled a nail, but certainly no human nail. It was thick, and rounded, as though it had been pulled right out of a claw. Even covered in blood, the sight of it was enough to cause a jolt of disgust, and repressing a shudder, he threw it away. Whatever it was, he wanted it as far away from him as possible. He heard it clatter against the asphalt, but forced himself to focus on the wound. A fresh surge of blood had been drawn from it, but there was no indication that it was still actively bleeding. Wiping his fingers on his hoodie he looked up to catch the woman’s eye. He wanted to say he had done everything he was able to, he wanted more than anything to walk away, but he couldn’t. Not before making sure she was able to walk herself. So he set his jaw instead, letting out a huff of breath. “You know your body better than I do, is there anything that might accelerate the healing process?”

Deirdre closed her eyes, listening to Milo’s annoyed bursts through the lens of her fatigue. He sounded like he was trying to speak to her through a wall. And she felt like she was sitting in the pasture again. Beyond them, jingling; wind chimes, cow bells, fae running around with their wood-carved instruments. The sort of place she’d like to be. The world stretched thin, yawned and gasped and snapped back to wet bricks and bloody messes. And the child, who sounded a touch more melancholic than she remembered leaving him off. Must be the inevitable loss of her colourful company. To his credit, her leg did feel better. She ran her hand down, and pressed her palm to the wound. “You’re pretty sad,” she said, looking over at him, “and you sound pretty lonely. But I bet you know both those things already.” Deirdre looked at her leg; she would heal in time, but the thought crossed her mind that she really might just owe this child a great deal more than she was willing to admit. She wouldn’t have died. She could’ve fished the damn thing out herself. She was sure of these things, and yet… “Thank you,” she said sincerely, the first genuine comment to leave her lips so far. “And I’m sorry. And you’re right, you know, you are still Milo. And I’m Deirdre.”

The banshee turned her attention to the sky, lazy clouds rolling over bright moonlight. Not everyone who died in an alley got such a sight, and she wasn’t even dying. “My jacket,” she gestured to it, “you’ll find some cash. Take it.” But, to her surprise, the boy was still standing there. As if waiting to know she’d be okay. “Oh, yes,” she smirked, “if you let me call you an idiot a hundred more times I’ll heal so much faster; insulting children sustains me.” She eyed Milo, wondering if he just might storm off instead. “I’ll be fine,” she assured, “you’ve done everything you can for me.”

Milo couldn’t bring himself to argue anymore. The anger, and annoyance was still burning in his chest, but it was clear the woman wasn’t about to believe a word he said. And that was a lot of energy to expend when it meant getting absolutely nowhere. Regardless, he still wanted to open his mouth and insist he wasn’t sad, or lonely. She said the words with such conviction, as though she knew him better than he knew himself. But the voice in the back of his mind, the one usually responsible for whispers of self doubt, had him wondering who he would really be trying to convince. “Agree to disagree.” He muttered finally, glad to see a little colour returning to her cheeks. It appeared as though her pain was fading. If it was still present, it was far weaker than it had been only moments ago. Faltering in surprise at the unexpected thanks, he realised her voice had taken on a new tone, one he hadn’t heard from her before.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to react. After everything they had said to each other, he could hardly consider her a friend. Yet she was making herself vulnerable, admitting he had done something to help her. “Oh… uh, you don’t have to thank me. It’s whatever...” He insisted, feeling suddenly awkward. And then she decided to tell him he was right, he was still Milo. The relief he felt was difficult to hide. It was almost as though she had been holding his identity, ready to crush it in her fist, and now she was handing it back to him. Intact, and unharmed. “Deirdre.” He echoed, committing the name to his memory. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you but…” He gestured vaguely to the pool of blood she was still sitting in. “You’ve also taken every opportunity to insult me so…”

Glancing down at her jacket pocket as she insisted upon drawing his attention to it, he wasn’t about to reject her offer. Maybe somebody else would have, but he knew how valuable money was, how easily it disappeared when you kept such expensive habits. “Thanks.” He said quietly, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small wad of cash. Shooting her a pointed look as he pocketed it, he should have expected something akin to another insult. “I’m not a child.” He countered, taking one last look at her leg. It already seemed to be in the process of healing, but he had a feeling it would be a while until she was able to put any weight on it. “Are you sure?” He asked, needing to know before he essentially abandoned her. “I mean- I can stay here if you want me to?”

“Don’t take it personally,” Deirdre groaned, “I insult everyone.” She paused, “actually, do take it personally. I want you to be insulted.” She expected him to run, she hoped he would run. Instead he stood there, staring at her with worried eyes and reluctance. Her stomach tensed. She turned her face from him, sickened. She wanted to tell him to stop, yes he had helped her out but she wasn’t expecting him to care. She didn’t care. And she was sure, more than anything, if she told herself that enough times, it would be true. “Have you ever tried nectar, Milo?” She asked, looking over at him again. “Seems to be popular among vampires. You know, that money you have could buy you a good drink. Take it and go find some vampire bar.” She knew what she was doing, and as her mind protested—if the boy already knew, he didn’t need a reminder. If he didn’t, then she shouldn’t have been telling him. But she grinned, toothy and lopsided, eager to assert to the world that she was still the apathetic woman she was made to be. She had spared the spawn that tried to eat her out of a foolish idea that the creature was pitiable. But she wouldn’t make that mistake again. She didn’t care. Despite it all, she didn’t care. She was Deirdre Dolan, born to an ancient religion of pride and sacrifice. She was not going to die in the alley. She was not going to be kind to some stranger.

“Go on,” she urged him, “get out of here. I’ll be fine, and I’ll heal better if I don’t have to look at your sad face.”

Milo continued to glare at Deirdre with the air of a parent waiting out a tantrum. The woman could say whatever she wanted to say, she had already managed to ruin his mood. He was tired of trying to decide whether he cared about her wellbeing, or wanted to outright abandon her, so he settled on making it clear she was an incredibly irritating presence. If this was what being a doctor felt like he was grateful he had managed to avoid that particular path. Even if becoming a vampire was the alternative. His expression shifting suddenly at the mention of Nectar, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that she knew what it was. But it was jarring, hearing somebody mention the substance so casually. “Once.” He said, his voice cold, and curt. “I woke up dead.” Finally straightening up, brushing off the blood that had dried on his hoodie, he watched some of it as it flaked away. It still smelled enticing, but he wouldn’t let himself dwell on that. Not now. “I’m not going to a bar,” he muttered. “I’m going home. Or I was going home before you decided to interrupt me with this bullshit.”

Feeling a surge of annoyance at the sight of her grin, he could only assume her pain level had taken a dramatic dip. As much as he hated the fact that it apparently made it easier for her to get to him, he was undeniably proud that he had been able to help in some way. His medical knowledge of the supernatural was questionable, but it seemed basic first aid was applicable to most creatures, human or otherwise. Pulling a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, he sparked up, pointedly taking his time now that she was clearly trying to get him to leave her. He was more than ready to go, though he would be lying if he said he wasn’t satisfied by knowing he could annoy her a little in return before eventually giving her what she wanted. Exhaling a breath of smoke, he faltered, wondering if he really did have a sad face. He hoped not, the idea of people being able to read him so easily made him uncomfortable. And he wasn’t sad, was he? But he could worry about that another time, maybe spend a few more hours staring at himself on his phone’s front camera, attempting to see what other people saw. Tapping ash dangerously close to where Deirdre was sitting, he finally turned on his heel, resisting the urge to look back as he walked away from her. It still felt wrong, leaving her alone like this, sitting in a pool of her own blood, but he trusted her to take care of herself, regardless of whether he would ever admit that out loud. If she said she would be okay, she would be okay. He had done his part, and if he was lucky, he might never have to see her again.

All of a sudden, guilt flooded Deirdre’s stomach, choking up her body. Slowly, she dragged her blunt nails across the wet asphalt, swallowing back the apology that wanted to free itself from where it was lodged in her throat. She’d only been trying to hurt him, yet knowing she had succeeded in some regard left her mouth acidic. At the very least, his opinion of her would be soured, and wasn’t that what she wanted? She imagined some measure of control and relief in making someone hate her just as much as she did herself. And she could only hope that he did; anyone who had seen her this vulnerable ought to. But he stood there, letting smoke collect in the air and in her nose--scrunched up in distaste. It went without saying that banshees in general didn’t appreciate smoke much, though Deirdre didn’t share her mother’s venomous hatred for it. She only turned to look up at the stars again, Milo’s smoke occasionally obstructing her vision, to her displeasure. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t either. When the acrid smell of tobacco cleared the air and wet footsteps receded beyond what she could hear, Deirdre turned finally to face the world around. If she was lucky, she’d never have to see Milo again. If she was really lucky, he wouldn’t realize how much of a liar she was.

Her legs were not okay. She was not okay. But Milo had his own problems; people like him often did. He ought to be spared what lived in the shadows, as much as someone like him could be. He wasn’t all that bad, really. Not that Deirdre would ever tell him that.

After all, she was never going to see him again.

#wickedswriting #pain of the week #c: milo #wickedmilo #chatzy #suicidal ideation tw #addiction tw #drug use tw #drug abuse tw #medical blood tw #// jessie is the best and milo sTOLE MY HEART AND ATE IT

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vonahalv · 3 years ago

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The Mystery (part 3/?)

Later that same day...

“Jewel. JEWEL. I can’t get the door and carry you. Open it for me.” Coming out of her reverie, Anjewel apologized. “I’m so sorry Finn! It must be the pain. I was lost in just trying to stay awake. I hear that when you’re dreadfully hurt you shouldn’t fall asleep.” As she was offering up this explanation, she opened the door and took in her surroundings while Finn walked her in.

He sat her gently on a chair and went to the check in counter. Finn was speaking low, but she heard snippets of the conversation, including a note that the doctor was out for lunch and would be back soon.

The door opened again and Anjewel took a look to her left. She felt the look of shock on her face and worked quickly to turn it into one of pain. It’s HIM. How terribly lucky. I hope to never tire of saying that. It’s the only way I can stay in this line of work. He walked past Finn and nodded to the receptionist. The draenei is good. He showed no acknowledgement of knowing Finn, and Finn is oblivious right now. Interesting. Just then she heard Finn gasp. “My gold pouch! Jewel, I was going to cover this, but … well… I just had it. Do you think someone in the crowd? This is horrible!”

“It’s ok Finn. I can handle it. She looked past him to the receptionist and held up a coin. “Why don’t you go see if you can find it? We haven’t been gone long, and I’m certain a good citizen has held onto it for you. I can manage now.” He nodded, replying, “Yes. That’s a good plan. I’ll be back for you soon.” After Finn left, Anjewel stood and limped around the office looking at the paintings on the wall.

It didn't take long for the receptionist to call her and Anjewel made her way to the indicated door down the hallway. Working to keep up the charade, Anjewel limped slowly placing her hands along the wall. Occasionally she would hit the wall just a little too loud, listening at the same time to see if there were hollow noises coming from the wall. She opened the door that had been indicated and saw the draenei sitting behind a desk. He motioned to an examination table and moved to meet her there.

Anjewel closed and locked the door behind her.

The moment he got up from his chair and walked away from the desk, Anjewel was behind him. She had pulled her daggers from behind her back, and she now had one touching his lower back, Is this where the kidneys are? I should remember…. and another held to his throat.

“Two things, Doctor. I’m not hurt. And if you tell me the truth, you won’t be either. I saw you exit from the Slaughtered Lamb. I assume you hold a measure of power. I’m holding the Fangs of the Devourer. Fangs I took from Akaari Shadowgore. Do you think you’re more powerful than Akaari Shadowgore?”

She felt him swallow as his tendrils pushed against the dagger in her hand. “I’m just a middle man. I hold the meetings because the Master cannot come to Stormwind. No one knows who I am, and I know only how to play a part. My business is not doing well since the Uncrowned began taking a cut, and I’m working to supplement my income.”

She pushed the dagger against him a bit more, drawing some blood from his back. “The meeting today with the man who brought me in. I want to know.”

Beads of sweat began to pour down his face, and yet she noticed his body wasn’t as tense as it should have been had he really been frightened. “He was tasked by the Master to remove a support beam for the First within the Black Harvest. For years he has been a friend to her sister and agreed to separate her. I believe he’s been killing her ex-boyfriends and blaming the First, all in an effort to breed distrust. He confirmed today it was done, and thus received his payment. He was set to simply watch her now until further notice.”

With each word, Anjewel’s mouth grew dryer and dryer, her feet threatening to give out from underneath her - for real this time. The draenei felt his opportunity and pushed against her, his thick tail attempting to sweep her legs as he caught her off balance. Anjewel called upon the Fangs and disappeared into shadow. Her world slowed down and she jumped. From above him she could see him turn in fear and dart for his desk. I hate this part. Why do they try?

As she made her way over him, she released the shadow and fell onto his back - daggers plunging into soft flesh. Yup, it was the kidneys. Good to know. He screamed in agony as the poison entered his body. Grinning, she twisted the daggers further into him.

“I guess you didn’t know who Akaari Shadowgore was, huh?” And with that, she dropped a dagger, grabbed a tendril, pulled back his head and slit his throat.

Waiting to ensure he was dead, Anjewel slowly became aware of noises in the hallway, raised in concern, and heard the voice of the receptionist growing closer. “Miss Black, Miss Black - is everything alright?”

“Yes Evette, thank you. Call the cleaning crew would you? I’m afraid the doctor made quite a mess of my ankle and there is blood just everywhere. He’s gone and fainted and might need some attention himself.”

She didn’t need to see it to know that Evette would get the patients and their doctors or nurses back in their rooms and help keep them calm. This was a place of professionalism of course. The Uncrowned, of which she was a part, would always ensure a professional atmosphere. But now I need to do something about this ankle. By the Light. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. This strange litany passed through her as she clamped down on the leather handle of her dagger, stood on the desk and stepped off. Moving her ankle at the last second, it hit hard and she heard a crack.

Dragging herself to the medical table, Anjewel climbed up, put her daggers away and waited. Soon, Evette entered, followed by an Uncrowned physician. “What do you think doc? Does it look bad?”

After a short examination he replied, “You did a pretty good job. Nice angle, clean break. We can make the cover story work. You’ll need to do a thorough write up on why you killed a staff member though. In the meantime we’ll arrange for him to go missing.” So many are missing lately. And now this one is mine. “You’ll be off your feet for several weeks, so I’ll put in a notice that you’re to be disqualified from mobile work. Though maybe we can arrange for some stakeouts.”

“Understood. I’ll write Valdis and see if she’s up for some family time. And perhaps I can get Finn involved. Would you mind hand delivering a letter to her? It’s urgent, and it’s related to the debrief I’ll be giving later.”

Evette nodded and brought in some writing supplies. As the physician, John, worked on her ankle, and Evette worked to clean up any blood that found its way on Anjewel, she wrote:

“Dearest Emerald,

I was badly injured today, and if not for the swift assistance of my favorite physician, I don’t know if I would have managed. I am told I cannot work and need round the clock aid for a short time. Please tell me that my dearest person is available to console me and bake me my favorite cookies. I think I may have figured out your secret ingredient and know just where you can get some at this time of year. This messenger is known to me and will await your response. I have not yet received a response from my last letter, and if you have not yet crafted one, I beg you answer me in person.

Love,

Ruby”

Finishing her letter, Anjewel turned to Evette.

“Evette, Valdis is cautious and I have advised her you will wait. If she requires proof, mention that “the Ruby misses the Sapphire”. She will know you are known to me and should trust you.” She turned to the physician. “John, would you mind getting me out front before Finn is back? I don’t need him trying to come back here to comfort me.”

Anjewel had just enough time to grab a seat, tuck her daggers away and smooth her hair before Finn walked in the door. The look on his face was all she needed to make this hellscape of an afternoon better. “No luck then Finn? I’m so sorry.”

She almost felt as if he cared for when she saw the look on his face as he took in her appearance. He tried to take me from Valdis. He worked to undermine her and bring harm to her. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. Murderous rage flowed through her and she struggled to hold on. Cleaning up one death would already be tough enough to do, and she didn’t care to explain two.

#warcraft #ocs #rogue #warlock #sheshopeless #fanfic

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stutterfly · 5 years ago

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Love Bytes 07 | User Privileges | KNJ (M)

Last time on Love Bytes 06: Seokjin gives you an earful before you spend a peaceful evening with Namjoon. You try to convince yourself whatever is happening between you is nothing to think twice about, but you have to reconsider when morning comes. Luckily you’re able to focus your energy on the new matches on your dating app... Or so you think.

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 12K

Series: Love Bytes (7/?)

Genre: F2L, fluff, humor, SLOW BURN, friendship feels, ANGST! pining, sexual tension, smut, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, IT/Nerd!Reader

CW: anxiety, sexual tension, angst, pining, sexual thoughts, language, sexting, grinding, panic attacks (mentioned), reader gets gaslighted, negged, and bullied like this is the 6th grade (verbal abuse by a side character/anatagonist), reader gets dubcon groped (not any of our perfect boys; them and Jennie swing into action), brief homophobic comment by an antagonist, fuckboy Jungkook showing his soft side (s/o to Swipe Right Jungkook; believe in him), alcohol use/mention, best friend Hobi, bestie Jennie, BFFLs to the rescue, protective/jealous Namjoon, soft Namjoon feels, Namjoon about to whoop some jerk’s ass, reader is a Dumb Bitch™ about her feelings and toxic relationship warning signs

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7 masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

Do not repost.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You haven’t been able to put down your phone all day. An onslaught of “Super Likes” has you playing the foreign role of an extrovert, acting as peppy as possible to present your “best self” to your potential suitors. By the time your battery percentage is down to single digits, you’re feeling just as drained. You fumble with the charging port near the head of the couch, cheek squishing against the armrest. It’s hard to find the energy to rise. Why is trying to get laid so much work? Jennie made it sound way easier. Keeping your eyes open becomes more of a struggle than it’s worth. No amount of socializing feels as rewarding as letting yourself drift off.

You don’t mean to sleep through several group texts and phone calls, but your phone’s reverberations fall near silent against the back cushion. You might sleep through the night if not for a loud series of loud, familiar knocks on your door.

‘Knock--knock-knock--knock--knock.’

You groan into the air, “Whaaaaaat?”

“Open the dooooor.” Even muffled behind the thick wood, you recognize Hoseok’s nasally whine.

Still half-asleep, you shuffle towards the sound. The deadbolt clicks against the light pressure of your fingertips and yields the shining face of your friend. His grin practically reflects the light of the hall and amplifies its shine. It's almost sickening.

"What, were you sleeping?” He frowns narrowing his eyes at you as he scrutinizes every last detail set in your features. “Were you crying? You’re not still upset about your terrible date, are you?”

You smack his hand away as he fusses with the rat’s nest that is your hair. “No, I’m fine. I’m just exhausted from socializing on Tinder all morning.” You yawn, reaching for your phone. “What time is it anyway?”

“You sound like Yoongi,” he laughs, drawing the curtain across the room to let in some natural light. “Don’t worry. You didn’t sleep through the night. It’s almost two.”

“Oh good, it’s only been a couple hours.” You wince as the room brightens, holding back an annoyed hiss. Soft rain patters against the leaves on the tree outside of your window. Maybe the weather is finally letting up and you can see some real sunshine again sometime soon.

“I just wanted to check in. I know you’re too polite for your own good sometimes.”

You miss the concern in his face as you scan the latest batch of matches that have messaged you since your power nap. There was a guy asking if you wanted to meet for lunch, but you missed the window. He seemed pretty nice so you want to apologize as fast as possible so you don’t seem like a total bitch.

When you don’t even acknowledge Hoseok’s words, his face hardens. “...But not all the time, apparently.”

You look up from the keyboard on your phone, halfway through constructing an apology. Sensing his annoyance at your manners, you turn off the screen and offer a guilty smile.

“I’m sorry, Hobi. Jennie and Tae sent me the photos this morning and--”

His countenance changes in an instant, dropping his pout and grinning like a maniac as he sprints across the room. “What? Really? Let me see!”

He hip checks you into the couch and you both fall to the cushions with a graceless flop. You know you could convince him to drop it if you really wanted to, but a part of you is really enjoying the positive reactions from your matches and the attention is doing wonders for your self-esteem. What’s one more person inflating your ego?

“Oh, just one sec. I want to apologize for ghosting this dude.”

“You ghosted someone?” Hoseok shakes his head in disbelief, throwing his arm around you. “I’m so proud! Did he deserve it? Was it the guy at the coffee shop?”

You snort, fingers tapping your keyboard thoughtfully. “No. There’s this guy I was talking to earlier. He asked me to lunch right after I fell asleep.”

He furrows his brow at you. “I’m not really sure that’s ghosting if you planned on responding.”

Your fingers stop tapping the keyboard and you look up at him. “Oh. Well. I definitely ghosted the coffee guy. Just unmatched and deleted his number.”

“Attagirl.” He grins, playfully nudging his knuckles into your jaw. “So what’s this guy’s name?”

“Mmm. Don’t want to tell you, in case it doesn’t go anywhere,” you mumble, backing out of the conversation.

Hoseok glances down at your screen and raises his eyebrows when he notes all of the conversations you have going simultaneously. “Wow! Someone’s popular.”

“I didn’t expect such a big change once I got the photos. I hate to admit it, but you guys were actually right for once.”

His eyes widen. “Hmm? Say that one more time? Hold on!” He pulls out his phone like he’s going to record the statement and then laughs. “I’m glad you finally see my wisdom. Now gimme.”

He flexes his fingers a few times to make grabby hands at your phone. You navigate to your profile and allow him to peruse at his leisure, nervously micro-analysing his blatant facial expressions. You’re mostly getting a shocked and excited vibe, laced with a hint of pride as he keep repeating “wow” at each new image. Just as he’s moving on to the bikini photo, your cleavage is obscured by a new message.

“Jihoon? Is that your lunch guy?”

“What? He responded? I’ve been cussed out for ignoring a dude for five minutes. They’re usually not so understanding in my experience.”

“Yikes, is that what it’s like for girls?” Hoseok shivers. “On behalf of all men, let me apologize to you.”

“You’re absolved of your guilt for waking me up,” you joke, prodding his side with your finger and giggling when he wiggles away from your touch. “What did he say?”

“He says he still wants to grab a bite with you, if you’re up for it. Ooh he called it a wake up snack with a winky face!” he teases, already bringing up the keyboard to respond for you. “What should we say back? Let’s see… I’m not hungry, but I’ve got a snack for you if you wanna come get it…. Winky-- Hey!”

You snatch the phone back from him, smacking him lightly in the chest. “I’ll figure out something a little less eager, thanks.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. I think you should go though.” He’s already removed the scrunchie from your hair and is brushing it with his fingers to retie it. “Nothing like a rebound to get your mind off of things.

“I’m not having sex with him,” you mumble, sending off your response to Jihoon.

“Oh, by the way, we’re meeting up at Seesaw later. You can use that as your out.”

“You gonna buy me drinks this week too?” you ask sweetly, puckering your lips at him.

He scoffs. “Pfft. At Yoongi’s bar? Yoongi’s buying. Now, go put on some clothes that don’t look like you wore them to bed with someone else.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A points system is something Hobi helped you come up with. You meet up for a snack at a bar and have one drink with him, telling him ahead of time you have dinner plans with friends so he gets the idea right away that your time is valuable. He starts with 100 and you can deduct based on gross mannerisms or behavior.

That way he starts in the positive and only falls to the negative if things go poorly. If he loses enough points, you can end the date by saying you have to get ready because you’re someone’s ride--which is technically true since Namjoon refuses to get his license and you've naturally taken to being his chauffeur.

Now that you're treating dating like a game, it seems like a piece of cake. You can just throw if you've been matched with a shitty teammate. This time you're expecting it. No way are you going to get trapped for 2 hours talking to some dude who doesn't give two fucks about who you are. You’ll probably be back home in no time, eating some of that ice cream still in your freezer and pretending to be interested in some other guy's messages. That's what dating is, right? It's fine. It's a good plan.

You can tell Hoseok and Jin that you made an attempt, are too tired to go out, get drunk alone in your apartment, have a good cry over some self indulgent romantic drama, and pass out with your vibrator cupped in one hand. It definitely sounds like the night of a well adjusted adult with healthy coping mechanisms for rejection, loneliness, and anxiety. It's in your nature to turtle when you feel so shitty about yourself, and your friends know it. You're just hoping they'll accept your excuse of fatigue as a simple fact rather than a disguise for your unhappiness.

There's just one little hiccup you've run into with this foolproof plan. The guy who agreed to meet you for a single drink isn't the one you'd been talking to all morning. He's funnier, twice as handsome, and at least three times more suave than his online persona. Deducting points from someone so charming is proving to be difficult, even after downing a second rum and coke in your haste to work off the genuine butterflies fluttering in your belly.

You can’t get your hopes up. You tell yourself this and yet your brain is ignoring that mantra in favor of bashing you over the head with feelings of excitement, especially when he drops his hand beside yours on the bar. He gently brushes his pinky against the back of yours as he laughs. Suddenly you don’t want this date to end. The smallest touch sets your nerves alight and you’re craving more.

Do you dare to pull out your phone to check the time? Is it rude? You don’t want him thinking you’re not having a good time, but you promised Hoseok that you’d keep it short. It’s a risk you have to take. Pulling the mobile device from your pocket, you try to casually bump the power button to check the time. You bite your lip, realizing you’ve already gone ten minutes past the time you’d decided to end it.

“You sure you can’t stay for another? I’m buying.” The man beside you smiles and playfully bumps his shoulder against yours as his fingers finally curl around yours on the bar. Your gaze is fixed on the motion of his thumb caressing yours.

The breath catches in your throat and you stutter out a flustered laugh. Shy eyes peek up from beneath fallen strands of hair, trying to decide if this is actually happening or if someone is playing a cruel joke on you. His lips part into an amused grin as he tucks the strand behind your ear. His fingers are warm as they lightly trail along the side of your face and instinctively you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

“Mmm,” you hum, losing yourself in the simple sensation of fingertips brushing against your cheek. The comfort the motion brings reminds you of someone else, someone you’ve been feeling incredibly confused about as of late. Panic settles in your belly as you almost say his name. “Na--” you catch yourself and clear your throat.

Trying not to draw attention to your mind’s slip-up, your eyes pop open and settle on the bar as you slink away, nearly falling from the stool as you collect your purse.“N-Nah. I, um, have plans. But, um...”

He curiously cocks his head at you. “Are you okay to drive, lightweight? I can call you a Lyft.”

A nervous laugh passes your lips as you twirl your fingers around the metal ring that houses your keys. “I’ll be okay. Thank you! I’m just! Really clumsy. Sorry. Th-this was nice though. Can we--Can we do this again?”

Shit. Way to sound desperate.

Much to your surprise, Jihoon offers a dimpled smile with a raise of his phone. “Hit me up again, beautiful. Any time. I'll tell them to go easy on the rum next time."

You hesitate on moving in to kiss his cheek and instead decide to nod and spin on your heels, nearly missing the waitress balancing a platter full of food beside you. Adrenaline rushes through you on the walk back to your car, a soft rain dampening your clothes and speckling the screen of your phone as you check your messages.

Hobi: how’s it going?

Hobi: you’ve gone over time Dirty Girl

Hobi: 😂

Hobi: tell me ur alive?

As you settle into the driver’s seat, you fingers are already working to craft a response that might reveal everything that you’re feeling, but nothing you try to say seems to do any justice to it.

You: I survived. SS? :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Hoseok leans back in his chair, taking in everything you’ve told him with a big grin as he picks at the nachos on the table. “So he didn’t try to kiss you?”

You wrack your brain, which is starting to fill with the haze of alcohol. "No. He held my hand for like half a sec though.”

He snorts, crunching down on a chip. “Risqué. Who would have thought you could be so naughty?”

You roll your eyes, debating on whether or not you should admit why you were able to end the things when you did. You scan the plate of nachos and your jaw tightens, shifting from left to right as you try to reason that you hadn't been thinking of someone else while on your date.

"I mean he might have tried to kiss me if I didn't end things so abruptly," you contemplate aloud with a dramatic sigh. “He was so nice. What if he never wants to see me again? What if I blew it?”

Hoseok is scrolling through your messages with Jihoon, scrunching his nose. “Hmm. Or maybe,” he pauses to flip the screen towards you, “you’re just being silly. What, did you get drunk off one beer again?"

Jihoon: Make it home safe, lightweight?

Your lips curl into a smile reading the message, quickly texting a response.

You: I'm fine lol i told you I wasn't drunk. Sorry if I worried you at all!

Jihoon: oh good guess I can spend the rest of my night thinking about you for other reasons now 😏

Breathing gets a little harder as your heart swells to your brain and turns it to mush.

"Damn this guy's smooth," Hoseok murmurs as you set the phone down on the table, feeling completely dumbstruck.

"What do I say?" you ask, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought. Panic bubbles deep in your belly. There’s no doubt in your mind whatever you say will make this guy never speak to you again and you actually maybe kind of enjoyed his company.

Hoseok drums his fingertips on the table, a devilish grin spreading across his features as he begins to walk them towards your phone. “I can type out something for you.”

He bursts out laughing as you quickly snatch the device, sending off a simple blushing smiley.

“Bo-ring,” he sings into the rim of his glass, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Just as he’s putting his drink down, you’re bringing yours to your lips. “So does this mean you’re not sleeping with Namjoon anymore?”

A cough sputters from your mouth. Your drink comes dribbling out from between your lips like a boozy waterfall and ice cubes plop back into the nearly empty glass. “Namjoon told you?!”

‘Wha?” He raises his eyebrows, mouth hanging open. “For real?!”

Oh no. Oh. Nononononono.

“Not! Like that!”

He saw Namjoon coming out of your apartment this morning, but he failed to mention any recent developments. What’s he at, two weeks now? He can’t have confessed, but it’s clear that something has happened. Did he make a move? Did you?

A smug grin splits his face in two, as he plants an elbow on the table and rests his chin on his palm. For some reason the only thing playing in your brain as he stares at you like this is a quote from Spongebob Squarepants: ‘You like Krabby Patties, don’t you Squidward?’

“Stop looking at me like that!”

He continues to stare at you with his accusatory grin and you feel yourself cracking under the pressure.

“Hoseok!”

Silently waiting, he does a slow blink and lets out a lofty sigh full of longing.

“I--! We--! Slept. Literally slept. Not. Dirty,” you panic, trying to fix the mess you’ve made. Here you are telling Hoseok after making Namjoon promise to forget, to not say anything himself. You’re a filthy hypocrite. You only maybe planned on telling Jennie. Maybe. Because chances are she’d be looking at you the same way Hoseok is right now and you’re not sure you can handle the mortifying experience twice.

You drop your forehead to the table hard enough to rattle the plates and cups on the table. Hoseok cringes and reaches out to place a comforting hand on your back but then thinks better of it and awkwardly pats your head instead.

Your voice is muffled as you wrap your arms around your face. “We didn’t have sex. We were just sleeping in the same bed. Please don’t make it into something it’s not.”

He polishes off his drink and looks down at you. Something it’s not? It’s definitely something that should be. You idiots are so close to being everything you both want to be for each other, and yet for some reason you refuse to accept it as the truth. If you’re sleeping in the same bed, regardless of whether you're feeling each other up or if it really is just innocent cuddling, you’re already in too deep to call yourself ‘just friends.’

You narrow your eyes at him when he rolls his. It seems like admission is still a topic to be avoided.

“Fine,” he huffs, feigning indifference. “I was just hoping for some drama.”

Namjoon better get his shit together soon. You might actually see this smooth-talking person again. If he’s as charming as he seems, he’ll have you falling for him in no time. Hoseok contemplates whether or not the guy is just fishing for casual sex with an easy target, but he doesn’t know enough about Jihoon to say for sure. But you? As big as you talk, you’re soft. Squishy, inside and out. Either way Namjoon will be crushed; there’s no way around that. But the last thing Hoseok wants is to see is not just one, but two of his friends heartbroken.

“Don’t say anything. Please,” you beg, reaching for the hand resting on the back of your scalp and fixing your gaze on the table. The sound of desperation seems to confirm there’s more at play than friends snuggling up in the same bed. He wordlessly curls his fingers around yours, giving them a squeeze, which causes you to look up.

“I won’t say a word. Who do you think I am: Jimin?”

It feels like he’s opening the curtains in your apartment to let the sunshine in all over again when he smiles and you can’t help but let the silent giggles break your nerves down.

Familiar hands press down on your shoulders, giving them a gentle rub. “Damn. Drunk already, Geeksquad?”

You can’t help but straighten your spine and slink back into the motion, despite the fresh briar of worry prickling your insides. Are things weird? You feel like things are weird. You try to make sense of the confusion blossoming with your nerves, but fuck, it feels so good when he does that. “No…mmm.”

You melt into the man at your back and are met with a familiar dimpled smile. The anxiety in your stomach disperses as quickly as it came on. Hoseok watches in silence with pursed lips that threaten to curl into a smile. You guys are morons. The way you’re looking at each other is almost sickening; it’s like you’re the only two people in the room. Something has definitely evolved in your relationship, but it’s not enough. Not yet. He’s never wanted to smush two people’s heads together so badly.

Hoseok clears his throat and stands, pinching your arm as he passes by you. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

You smooth your palm over the tender flesh, wrenching yourself away from the hypnotic pull of the man behind you as you down your backwashed drink. He lets his hand linger on your shoulder as he slides into the chair beside you. Suddenly all you can think about is how good those hands felt holding you steady as he rutted his hips against your ass. You swallow, casting your gaze at the table while trying to push the memory from your brain. The harder you try, the more you remember. Moaning and grinding your ass back into him. The growl in his throat. The frantic panting in your ear.

He leans in, a familiar concern evident in his hushed tone. “Everything okay?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You wilt under his skeptical eyes, shifting your attention to the glass you’re now sliding back and forth between your hands.

“You sure?” he asks, letting his thumb trail down your arm

You try to remember to breathe, not wanting to draw attention to the flustered heat in your chest. It’s easy to attribute the inappropriate thoughts to your conversation with Hobi. He brought it up and he doesn’t even know. Not really. And now it’s all you can think about.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, brow furrowing.

Yes.

When you don’t answer, he rests his elbow on the table and uses his palm to support his head. “Office hours are closed but Namjoon’s therapy hours are open.”

I want you to come home with me again so we can dry hump like we’re teenagers. You wish you had a shock collar for your thoughts. Stop. This is Namjoon.

You shake your head and force a guilty smile as you meet his gaze. Regret courses through your stomach, causing it to do somersaults. You can tell he spent way longer styling his hair than he would have you believe, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t do a great job. It’s surprising he would let it get so long in such humid weather, but the ashy brown color compliments his dark eyes well and you hate to admit he looks rather attractive with it falling over his forehead like this. It just looks so…

Pullable.

You want to twist your fingers in it and draw him in. Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and you scold yourself, squashing the thoughts before they can take over. Think about something else.

Easier thought than done. Your brain has moved onto another target, focusing on the muscular forearm supporting his head. Has he really been working out? In his current position, the shadowy contours sculpted into his flesh seem more prominent than usual. It’s like you’re seeing them for the first time. The loose tanktop hanging around his torso probably has something to do with it. Your eyes linger far too long on a brown nipple poking out from behind the thin fabric.

He raises his eyebrows, watching your eyes wander everywhere but his face. You’ve been silent too long, but every thought in your mind threatens to spill out. You clear your throat, forcing your eyes to rest on his face. Anything is better than the hesitation heavily seated on your tongue.

“I had a date today.” Of course the first thing that comes out is just a complicated addition to the stockpile of conflict in your gut.

He does his best to remain stoic, despite the tendrils of hurt creeping up his chest. It's easier to mask the pain as surprise. "Oh? For real?"

"He seemed okay." You nod. "I didn't even spill anything on myself this time."

"Wow," he chuckles, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Look at you, all grown up."

“Yeah. I put my bra on by myself and everything,” you joke, oblivious to Hoseok’s approach.

His hands reach around your sides, planting two drinks on the table. One looks suspiciously like something you would drink and the other is most definitely beer.

“Wow, what did I miss?” Hoseok asks, hugging you from behind. Any excuse to tease you is a good one, especially knowing there’s something going on between you and Namjoon. His fingers walk up your arms and tussle your hair.

Namjoon watches your expression morph into embarrassment and graciously brings the beer to his lips. You’re so cute when you’re flustered. Warm butterflies attempt to extinguish the inky tendrils of despair using his heart as a vice grip. Again he had his chance to confess this morning, and again he didn’t. And now you’re here running through the details of your date with someone else. It would be selfish to tell you now, wouldn’t it? It’s just something he’ll have to deal with.

Hoseok watches his friend’s eyes drop to the table as you prattle on about your date. While you’ve known Namjoon for a little longer than a year, Hoseok’s been friends with him for much longer. Maybe that’s why you can’t see it: the hopeful light being sucked from Namjoon’s eyes even as he hangs on your every word. Because he’s so in love with you, he’ll listen to anything you have to say, even if it’s about your attraction to someone else.

Hobi pinches your sides, shifting the focus of the conversation to his grabby little crab fingers and how much you hate them. He mocks you, dodging your playful smacks to his ribs. If the opportunity arises to spare Namjoon from another second of heartbreak, he’ll take it. He knows Namjoon never will, no matter how much it hurts.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The work week passes quickly. Things almost feel normal again. It probably helps that you made a point not to get sloppy drunk, you didn’t kiss Jimin, and you didn’t invite Namjoon back to your place for another dry-humping session disguised as platonic cuddling. But there’s this nagging feeling in the back of your head, constantly reminding you that you liked it. Try as you might to deny it, nothing sounds more appealing than the safety and warmth of his arms.

Instead you’re rolling against the cold sheets of your bed, trying to will yourself to get up. Again you’ve been dreaming about him. Again you tell yourself it’s just sexual frustration latching onto a familiar face. And again you stare at the ceiling, entirely unconvinced that there isn’t something more to it. You wish you invited him over again this weekend. You missed how good it felt to have him at your back, sliding his fingers along your arms until you fell asleep.

You talk to him every day and yet you’re still itching for more, looking for any excuse to talk to him, hoping he’ll break something that you’ll have to come fix since he hasn’t all week. It’s strange. So roll onto your side, face smushed into the pillow as you send him a text.

You: i heard u say u were gonna buy me coffee today. That’s so nice bae 😍

You wait a few minutes before the dots appear on screen.

Joonie: You are literally the worst. My alarm was just about to go off.

You: 🙂

You: u gonna tho

Joonie: Buy your own damn coffee

You: WOW RUDE 😭i just wanted a little succ

You: of the

You: caffiENE

Joonie: Why are you like this?

You: because ur my favorite person

Joonie: ….

He sends a meme from Spongebob where a fish is extending its neck with a judgemental stare.

Joonie: You don’t have to butter me up to get free coffee. Just text me your order

You: ashkfls;adsfkshfk ok ok gimme a sex

You: SEC

Joonie: 🙄

Talk about Freudian slip. You pause, considering what kind of coffee mood you’re in today. Bitter espresso or sugary sweet?

You: Vanilla iced coffee with one sugar pump please

Joonie: aight stop by my office. I’ve been having trouble connecting to the printer but no one has come to check it out

You: did u set up a ticket?

Joonie: Of course. I guess no one is as competent as you

You: kiss ass

Joonie: 😘

You roll your eyes, close out the conversation, and purse your lips before setting the phone down. Your latest dream resurfaces in your brain, straddling Namjoon’s torso as he leans you back over his desk and peppers your chest with kisses. Again you tell yourself it’s not about Namjoon, but the thirst associated with the drought of your sex life. Running your fingers down your torso, you start trying to work off some of the residual tension from your dreams.

Conflicted doesn’t even begin to describe your feelings. Confused doesn’t cover it either. You’d already met up with Jihoon again for a serious competition of indoor minigolf followed by a casual fast food dinner. Even then you found yourself thinking of one lanky professor, his dimpled smile replacing Jihoon’s every time he laughed. It’s why you didn’t take him up on the offer to return to his place. That and the fear of potentially being murdered.

You don’t want to have sex with someone when you don’t feel safe, but you consider ways to combat that that feeling for the next one. Maybe bringing him to your place is safer. After all, Yoongi and Hoseok are just down the hall. They’d be sure to check in on you if they knew you had company. People have sex with strangers all the time. It’s not that complicated. Why are you making it into such a big deal?

You can’t help but feel a little guilty. Things have been progressing with him pretty fast, but you have plenty of other offers to meet up with guys that you just haven’t jumped on. It’s kind of overwhelming now. Maybe you should call this dating thing off until your figure out what the hell is going on with your brain.

Or maybe you should just focus on masturbating instead of the confusing guys lighting up the switchboard of your brain. As you reach for your phone and start typing in the familiar web address of your favorite porn site, a photo message from Jihoon appears. You wonder what kind of meme he’s stolen from twitter this time. Carefully, you pause your search in favor of opening his message. It’s definitely not the meme you were looking for.

What you do see is a whole lot of skin along with a carefully placed kissy emoji over his crotch and a “good morning” text accompanying the image. You swallow hard, allowing yourself to be a creep for half a second. You spread your fingers across the screen to zoom in, taking in the sight of the rippled shadows lining his stomach.

You: 😵

You: im dead sorry we cant see each other anymore

Jihoon: 😂 sorry was that too much?????

You want to say no, but your belly does somersaults at the prospect of sending your own crafted picture as a response. It takes some finagling but you finally manage a shot with your arm wrapped around your chest at the perfect angle. No rolls showing, just a set of perfectly pouty lips, slanted jaw, and a great shot of cleavage. You know it’s taken you far too long to respond and you’re only slightly panicked as you scramble to send the photo over.

You see texts fly in from Namjoon and Jihoon and you swipe to close out the conversation with Namjoon. You quickly attach your photo and hit send, hoping Jihoon will feel rewarded for his patience. But your stomach sinks like a stone has been dropped into it. Your image doesn’t appear in the string of messages with him.

Jihoon: Left you speechless, huh?

You: JUST A BIT I NEED TO GO

You don’t give him a chance to respond or sass you for potentially getting off to that pic. You know how your statement reads, but you can’t be bothered to care with the other thought on your mind. Quickly navigating to your conversation with Namjoon, you wince, seeing the previous message he sent with the image you intended for another recipient.

Joonie: Whipped cream?

And there’s the risqué image.

If you ignore it, will he pretend he never got it? Or should you apologize right now and purge the view of the image by sending a billion texts? You decide on the latter, trying to perform damage control. He laughs it off and sends off a joke about just wanting a yes or no along with a few sickly emojis. You still feel terrible. How many times can you fuck up with him in one month? You’re surprised he still agrees to be your friend.

Hanging your head, you forgo touching yourself in favor of a cold shower.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

By the time your get to his office he’s just setting two cups on his desk and shrugging off his long trenchcoat. His back is to you as you attempt to quietly slink in, but he turns to hang the damp piece of clothing on the rack to your left. You freeze like a deer in headlights, but his eyes soften.

“Mornin’ Geeksquad.”

“Good morning,” you sheepishly mumble, shrugging off your own damp hoodie.

The shirt you’ve chosen today is a flowy button-up blouse, which is a step up from the t-shirts you normally wear. Paired with the form-fitting slacks and makeup you took painstaking attempts to apply this morning, you feel confident that you’re at least somewhat stylish, even if you’re not on Namjoon’s level.

“You…” He tries to remember what words are as his eyes roam over your form. Noticing the top two buttons of your blouse are undone, he clears his throat and tries to push the photo from this morning from his mind, but it keeps coming back. “You look really nice today.”

You smile, folding your arms over your chest as he noticeably stiffens, fumbling with his words.

“I mean, you look nice every day. But, ah…. This-This outfit looks good on you. Really good.”

He rubs the back of his neck and you relish in the appreciation he offers, even if he’s a mess about it. Your cheeks are on fire and you giggle, finding your heart jumping at the way he stammers his way through the conversation.

Why are you acting so shy? You love it when he loses composure. You swallow, allowing yourself to embrace the heat in your belly. Isn't this exactly why you started dressing up more at work?

Pushing the demon on your shoulder back into the floating expanse of your stomach, you press your lips together in a thin line, trying to hide the grin threatening to show off the teeth you've recently started whitening.

“And you’re waiting… For the uh…. The computer. Printer. Thing. Of course. Hold up. Let me log in.”

He crosses the room and sits in his chair, eager to focus on something other than your gorgeous face and distracting body since it's clear you're feeling yourself today. You plop down in the cushioned chair on the other side of his desk and rest your neck on the back of the chair to stare at the ceiling. He focuses on the screen, slowly typing his password and trying his best not to look past his monitor at you. He begins twirling a pencil between his fingers to keep himself from fidgeting.

While he had tried to make you feel better about the accidental photo, it was just another thing piled on to your interactions lately that have been making it harder and harder to keep his feelings to himself. Was it really an accident? Maybe you’re just testing the waters. After everything that’s happened, he’s not sure what to think. Everything feels too coincidental to be anything other than pure attraction flying between the two of you. But if that were true, you’d have asked him to spend the night again.

He was hoping for it, hoping for another chance to make his move. This time he’d be sure to lock the door and switch your phone volume to silent. This time he’d buy you a dozen misfit roses with a billion thorns. This time he had it planned out: flowers, dinner, movie, and confess with a kiss.

After hearing about your first date with this Jihoon guy, he decided he was going to suck up his insecurities and finally go for it. It was bad enough when he thought you’d end up with Jimin, but the thought of losing you to a stranger is far worse than he could have imagined. But the weekend passed without invitation and his courage waned as soon as it was clear he would have to initiate.

Thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things. What if he messed things up? Time already appeared to be running out when Hoseok had given him a deadline to confess by, but with your new dating developments, time seemed to be slipping through his fingers even faster than before. His hesitation helps nothing.

His stomach lurches as he considers the ramifications of the image you sent this morning. If you didn’t mean to send it to him, then it must have been meant for Jihoon. Are you really already exchanging nudes with this other guy? Has he seen all of you? Has he already lain with you? Filled the space in your bed? In you? Maybe Jihoon is the only one he knows about. What if you’re talking to even more people and that photo was for someone you haven’t even mentioned yet?

The pencil in his hand splinters into pieces with a loud crack and your head snaps up to look in the direction the sound came from.

“What was that?”

“Uh… Just me being the God of Destruction.” He rises motions for you to take his place in the chair as he pockets the fragments of the broken pencil.

You shake your head, grabbing your drink as you circle the desk and get comfortable in his chair. “You’re hopeless.”

Navigating the network doesn’t take very long. It just looks like a missing password to connect to the printer’s address. Huh. You don’t remember updating anything. Maybe your coworkers reset it. Regardless, it’s an easy fix. You take a sip through your straw and slam the cup down on the desk.

Suddenly your dream is on vivid display in your head and you freeze as you stare at the smooth, dark surface of the polished woodgrain. The sound of his balls slapping your ass echoes in your ears. You can see the scenario, clear as day. He grips your hips and fucks himself into your tight cunt, tits bouncing in his face as he sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth, praising you for your tightness, how you squeeze him, how you take him so well like the dirty slut you ar--

His hands come down on your shoulders. “Hey. You okay?”

Blood rushes in your ears and you shake the daydream off. You really need to stop watching naughty teacher porn but it’s always on the first page. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with Namjoon and everything to do with laziness. The problem with that is you’re usually very particular about the videos that you watch. Can you fully attribute it to laziness when this is the type of thing you found yourself skipping over just a few months ago? Don’t dwell on it, you tell yourself, continuing typing where you left off.

“Sorry, just… spaced out,” you mumble, leaning back in the chair as you finish up. “There. Should be all set.”

He allows his gaze to drop down past the two open buttons and straight to your breasts, perfectly nestled against the silky black material of your bra. His eyelids flutter and he licks his lips, hoping you don’t notice what a creep he’s being right now. How much spank bank material can he collect in one day?

“Do you want to test it?” you ask, quickly rummaging through the millions of icons on his desktop for any word document.

His breath hitches as you hover over one labeled ‘Draft_Trivia_L,’ double clicking it without a second thought. His hand catches your wrist and he spins you to face him as the document opens.

“You can’t just open things. That’s private!” he flares, heat building in his face. His gut fills with immediate regret.

You blink a few times and look down at your lap, feeling rather foolish. You’ve never seen him snap like that; it must really important. Regardless of your friendship, you know better as a professional. Your gut tumbles in endless circles. Just knowing you’ve upset him on top of everything else you’ve fucked up with your friendship has your mind heavy with guilt.

“I’m really sorry. I should have asked first,” you murmur, feeling like you’re about to cry. You’re not a child. You can handle being scolded when you’ve done wrong, even though it sucks. But this is different. He’s never gotten even remotely angry at you before. And you’ve never wanted crawl into to the server room and volunteer the remainder of your week sorting cables, but there’s a first time for everything.

The hands at your wrists fall to his sides and his expression softens. Before he can offer the apology on the tip of his tongue, you rise and head straight for the door.

“Test it out and let helpdesk know if it’s working.”

Just as you grab the handle and pull open the door, his hand pushes the heavy panel back in place with a click. You turn around, your back resting against the door, but he keeps his arm steady, hovering over you in a way that makes your heart race, despite the turmoil churning in your tummy.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap,” he says in a gentle tone. “It’s just… that particular document is… very personal. It’s--”

“You don’t have to tell me,” you say in a quiet voice. “I fucked up. I’m supposed to let you drive after I fix stuff. I’m not supposed to touch anything other than what’s broken.”

“You know I don’t have a license,” he jokes, earning a soft laugh from you. He sighs. “Remember how I told you about that one student? Well it turns out they really resonated with our poetry studies. They told me it reminds them of something they like to do for fun.” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck.

“They like to freestyle rap. Do tons of underground competitions, that kind of thing. So I’ve been working with them on bridging the gap between literature, poetry, and rap. And that document you opened… I’m trying my hand at it to lead by example. I want to share it with you, but it’s... not done and it’s a mess I’m still working through. But I promise I will let you see it when it’s done.”

“I’m sure it’s amazing. You’re a genius,” you admit with a shrug of your shoulders. “You have a way with words unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t feel like you have to show me anything, Namjoon. You’re not obligated to.”

He scoffs, relaxing his posture to pinch the bridge of his nose as the compliment starts to sink in. Did you just acknowledge his sexy brain? He can’t help but grin like an idiot as he shakes his head. “I have to show you. It’s actually… I kind of wrote it about… I mean, for you.”

Your eyes widen, curiosity bubbling in your chest. “M-Me?”

What the hell could he possibly have to say about you that could turn into a literary piece to lead by example?

“Yes. You.” He takes a sip of the beverage in his hand before thrusting it in your direction. “You know what? I don’t actually hate that.”

“I know. You have a sweet tooth,” you giggle, swiping your finger across the whipped cream covering the tip of his nose.

You take your finger into your mouth and lick it clean. He watches you with hungry, longing eyes, replacing your finger with something else in his mind. He quickly covers the look with a sigh, gathers your coat from the rack nearby and throws it over your head, shielding himself from your teasing actions. You scramble to regain your field of vision and grin at him as he sits down at his desk again.

You turn to finally leave again, this time in much better spirits. “I’ll talk to you later, Joonie.”

“Geeksquad,” he calls, causing you to pause. “We’re good, right?”

You rest your face on the doorframe as you peer back at him with a shy, slightly smooshed grin. “Of course. As long as you don’t hate me for the million ways I mess up.”

He chuckles, warm dimpled smile gracing his features. “Never.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Thursday night. Finally. You sit on your couch legs propped up over Jennie’s lap, finding some time to catch up with your bestie. She passes the bowl of popcorn over to you, engrossed in the comedy-drama you’ve been binging for the last couple hours. When you shake your head and push the bowl back in her direction, she looks over at you.

“What’s wrong.” It’s a demand, not a question.

“Why would you think anything’s wrong?” you ask defensively, already feeling like you’re about to cry.

“Because I know you, you dumb bitch,” she responds with the love of someone who has definitely seen you at your worst. “Also your leg has been bouncing for the last ten minutes and if you had to pee you would just get up.”

Immediately you halt the motion you hadn’t realized you’d been making. “Jihoon wants to meet up again this week.”

“Wow. Does that make date three? Bow-chicka-wow-wow,” she jokes, causing your feet to rise as she bumps her hips up and down.

You swipe at the air and roll your eyes. “Please, like he wants to.”

She scoffs, stuffing her mouth full of popcorn. “Didn’t you say he tried to get you back to his place after the last one? Dude def wants to bang it out.”

You twiddle your fingers nervously. “Do you think I should?”

“What, fuck him?” she asks, blinking at you as though she’s carefully analyzing your body language through the fluttering of her eyelids.

You slowly nod, puffing your cheeks out and letting air slowly escape the little ‘o’ you’ve made with your mouth. “I already told him I would get drinks with him and I’m nervous about taking things further after.”

“Y/N, honey, why are you asking me? I’m not gonna do it for you. Do you want to fuck him?”

“I don’t know…” You rub your forehead nervously, looking back at the television. “But I think it might take my mind off of some things.”

“Like...?” she prods, realizing there’s something else you’re on the verge of needing to get out, but you need a teensy push to get there.

You purse your lips and stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out a way to make it sound less crazy than the bottled up way it’s consuming your thoughts.

“When I’m with him... I can’t stop thinking about Namjoon,” you say quietly, feeling lightheaded just from having said it out loud. You said the words. You admitted it’s a thing. Now what? Jennie will know what to do.

“Ew,” she says out of instinct, knowing anytime she’s broached the subject of you getting together with Namjoon you’ve made gagging sounds. But when she sees the horror on your face, she pauses. “Oh, are we not at ew anymore? Are you finally cool with me saying he’s fine as hell? You feeling a little change, babe?”

“I don’t know what I feel. But it’s not ew. Not even close. I keep having these…” you pause and look at the unlocked door, wondering if there are any ears listening on the other side. Your voice drops to a whisper and you lean in. “I keep having these dreams where he’s… you know?”

“Oh, okay,” she says with a nod, not quite understanding what you’re getting at, but trying to be a good friend by agreeing anyway. She plants her elbow on the back of the couch and rests her cheek on her palm. “But like… how do you mean?”

Your eyes look everywhere but at her face. “You know…”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows furrow and it’s not until you make a crude circle with your hand and poke a finger through it a few times that her eyes light up with understanding. Her voice takes on a surprised tone. “Oh!” She pushes your legs off her lap, pauses the show, and scooches closer. “Okay. Wow. This is really happening. Finally. Details. Spill it.”

With a groan, you recount every last thing you can remember about the time you’ve spent with Namjoon in the last few weeks, everything from toilet hair to the most recent photo mishap. When you’ve finished, Jennie sighs loudly.

“I take off for like a week and this is what happens. I love you, but you are a serious fucking mess.” You’ve just been fanning the flames of the torch he’s been carrying for you. No wonder it’s all coming to a head like this. She’s surprised Namjoon hasn’t caved and finally confessed already. Isn’t he ready to blow at this point? She stifles a giggle at the double entendre.

“I know.” You stare at the ceiling, hands folded over your lap. “So what do I do?”

“Okay. Let me get this straight. You’ve slept in the same bed, cuddled, flashed him, almost made out with him, humped him, sent him a nude, you’re having sex dreams about him aaaaand you’re thinking about him while you’re on dates with other people… And you’re asking me what to do? You know what to do. Just bang it out already,” she says, clapping her hands together on the last few syllables to emphasize her point.

“Obviously there’s something there. So why don’t you just test the chemistry? You guys might be surprisingly compatible.”

You shake you head and run your fingers through your hair. “I can’t risk his friendship. I’ve fucked up so much already. Like what if we do it and he’s like… cool let’s not ever again. And then he tells me our friendship is over.”

“He won’t,” she groans, tossing one of the throw pillows at you. “Stop being dumb.”

“But…” Your mind races as you consider every last thing that could go wrong, hugging the pillow to your chest. “Jennie, I’m too scared to lose him. I can’t.”

Her brow knits in concentration. Your fears are understandable, but she knows you can be happy with him if you just open up to the possibility, especially since you’ve become such good friends in such a relatively short amount of time. But she also knows pushing you too hard too fast will make you clam up. You may not be willing to address what you feel, but at least there’s admission of some kind of feeling. That’s progress.

“So where do we go from here, Y/N? What are you doing?”

You wish you had an answer. “I… I’m calling Firewall on this. Right now. Namjoon keeps me in line with everyone else. You keep me in line with him.”

Jennie swallows, her heart breaking for you both as she nods. “Okay. If that’s what you want,” she agrees softly.

“It is,” you say, voice already full of uncertainty.

You have a date tomorrow night with Jihoon and you’ve decided you are going to stop thinking about Namjoon for the entirety of it. For the sake of your friendship and your sanity. You have to keep things simple and divided. So why does it feel like that’s way too easy of an answer?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jihoon is way better at dancing than you are, which doesn’t come as a surprise, honestly. What you do find shocking is the blatant boner you feel poking against your ass as he guides you across his hips and the filthy things he whispers into the slope of your neck. Clearly he uses dancing as an excuse to cop a feel, but the butterflies in your stomach and the heat in your cheeks tell you you’re okay with that. You shyly reach up to cradle your fingers around the back of his head, breath staggered as you slowly lean back to press your lips to his. His jaw is stiff, but his lips are big and soft and it’s easy enough to substitute the person you’re craving without a second thought. Fireworks explode in your brain, blocking off all possible hangups about the action.

As he brings his hands up to your chest, giving your tits a rough squeeze, you come crashing back down. Fuck. You had one job tonight. Firewall, remember? Your eyes shoot open and you’re left with a suffocating swarm of bodies around you and hands that feel constricting. It’s too much. You need air. You need air and space around you to figure this out.

You grab his hands and move them back to an innocent place on your hips. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you say, desperate to escape this place you suddenly feel trapped in.

He allows you to slip through his sweaty fingers and disappear into the crowd.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Namjoon says, unable to take his eyes off the way you’re moving with the man at your back. Is this his fate: destined to watch you grind your body on someone else?

Jennie, Jungkook, and Tae exchange worried looks. Hoseok just scoffs as he peers through the glass railing across the sea of writhing bodies.

“I know. What kind of dancing is that? It’s like she can’t remember anything I taught her. Crescent moon shapes. CRESCENT.” He grunts in frustration and drags his hand down his chin. “I’m gonna have an aneurysm.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair and placing his arms out around the back of Jennie and Jungkook’s chairs. “Of course that’s what you would see.”

She grumbles as Tae manspreads, knocking her knee with his. She settles for the way his fingers trail feather light touches at her back.

“Namjoon, you didn’t have to come,” she says sympathetically. “I just wanted to keep an eye on her just in case… I’m sorry. I know you guys think I’m crazy. But like… I’ve been with crazy. And if that experience has taught me anything, it’s to trust my gut.” She pats her stomach a few times and takes a small sip of her drink. “And my gut says don’t trust a hoe you don’t know, especially with your bestie.”

“That’s exactly why I had to come,” he sighs.

Touche, she thinks.

Suddenly you’re moving in a slow, sweet way that Jennie recognizes as your telltale shy kiss. As much as she likes the feeling of Tae’s fingers dancing with the ends of her hair, she stands and takes Namjoon’s hands, pulling him from his seat. She can hear Tae’s grumbly protests as she moves away, but it doesn’t matter. She’d really like to spare Namjoon the heartbreak of watching the person he loves kiss someone else.

“Joonie. Get up. Switch places with me. Come on.”

Her act of heroism comes too late. He falls back into his chair with his jaw hanging open, unable to stomach the sight. So he forces his eyes to focus on the ambient lights dangling from the ceiling. It's stupid. You're not even his, so why did that feel like getting punched in the gut? He closes his eyes and swallows the growing lump in his throat. Get it together.

Jungkook grimaces at Hobi, mouthing the words ‘what do we do?’ Hoseok looks from Jungkook to Namjoon, and then down to the floor where you’re prying Jihoon’s hands away from your chest and shying away. Squinting to get a better view of your form, he realizes you’re not just slinking away, you’re running away.

Hoseok rises, dragging his dejected friend to his feet. "Hey, let's get you something stronger than a ginger ale. Up! Up! Time to get our bodies moving. Things will be okay!"

Hoseok jerks his head in the direction he saw you running off to, making eye contact with Jennie. "Y/N is obviously okay! So let's not have wasted this time sulking when we could be getting endorphins going."

Jennie cocks her head to the side as she stands and peers over the rail, trying to discern whatever information Hoseok wanted to relay. Then she sees it: the distant form sneaking into the bathroom.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Namjoon groans as he leans his elbows on the bar. “You know what, I’m starting to think this wasn’t such a good idea. She’s obviously safe and happy. Can you please drop me off at home?”

Hoseok is looking past Namjoon, squinting into the crowd as though looking for something in particular. “You know this is your last weekend to confess before I tell her for you, right?”

“Hey. Don’t complicate her life. She’s got someone now. I appreciate the push, but it’s done. There’s nothing else to--”

“Hey isn’t that the guy?” Hoseok interrupts, hastily thrusting a pointed finger just in front of his friend’s nose.

Namjoon’s gaze follows Hoseok’s fingertip to Jihoon on the other side of the bar, putting his hands around some other girl’s waist and burying his face into her neck as they grind on one another.

“What the fuck?” Namjoon breathes.

His feet are moving without provocation and before he knows it, he’s angrily wrenching the couple apart. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Dude what the fuck? Do I know you?” Jihoon blinks, giving him a shove.

Namjoon’s shoulder dips back, but his stance is firm. He drags his lip through his teeth, a manic grin threatening to spread through if he doesn’t keep his jaw tight. “Try that shit again. I dare you. I will lay you out.”

The girl he was dancing with grimaces and quickly backs away, sensing the danger in this situation. Jungkook is waiting. He catches her wrist and spins her gracefully into his arms.

“Careful, gorgeous. Don’t want you mixed up in whatever that is, hmm?” he says, brushing the hair from her face with featherlight touches that contrast the solid mass of his body pressed against her side. “Don’t you want to dance with me instead?”

She looks like she’s about to slap him for a fraction of a second, but melts into a puddle as soon as she meets those big brown eyes. She weakly allows him to lure her away from the squabbling men.

“Maybe…”

“Hah. Well then. Maybe I’ll let you,” he teases, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek and disappearing into the crowd with her hot on his heels.

Jihoon’s jaw grows taut with annoyance as he watches his target slip away. He scoffs. “What the fuck is your problem with me? I don’t know you. Get lost.” He clicks his tongue and mutters, “fucking punk.”

“You’re here with Y/N and you’re out here feeling up other girls. That’s my problem with you.”

“Pfft. That’s what this is about? What are you, her boyfriend? Or do you just have white knight syndrome? Look, I don’t care what you guys are. Everybody has a side piece. Why are you being so judgemental?”

Namjoon’s concentrated brow briefly transforms into confusion, causing his response to die on the tip of his tongue. Jihoon catches the panic before he can turn his face to stone.

“Oh, that’s not it is it? I see how it is now. You’re stuck in the friend zone.” Jihoon lets out a smug laugh. “Are you stalking her? You must have seen our kiss. Tell me. How badly do you wish you were me?”

Namjoon feels like his teeth are going to break if he keeps grinding them together like this, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from unloading on this guy.

“Heh. Judging from your silence, pretty fucking badly. How long have you waited? Months? Years? Be honest. It drives you crazy knowing that I’m going to have her tonight, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t deserve her,” he spits back, unable to hold the jealous venom from his tone. “I’m not even worried. She’ll figure you out.”

Jihoon shakes his head, taking a few steps closer to him. “You’re wrong though. I know her type. She’s desperate for somebody to love her. Anybody will do. It doesn’t matter who.”

His words are like a sucker punch to the gut. What if he’s right? Regardless, he powers through his insecurities, knowing a guy as shitty as Jihoon is trying to go for the low blows to throw him off his game. “Man, do you ever get tired of spewing shit?”

“Dude, why do you even want her?” Jihoon shakes his head with a laugh. “Yeah, she's kind of cute but there are plenty of hotter chicks out there.” He clicks his tongue. “I thought I saw an easy opportunity to get laid but I didn't think someone as desperate as her would take this long to get in the sack. It’s kind of more trouble than it's worth for what's bound to be a mediocre lay. I can just tell.”

Namjoon clenches his jaw tighter, knowing that he’s just egging him on at this point.

“But I’ll fuck her anyway. Because I can.”

Namjoon lunges toward him but Taehyung and Hoseok are already grabbing his arms and steadying him like vines entangling a tree. Jihoon silently laughs like this is the most amusing game in the world.

“He’s not worth it. Don’t do something you’ll regret,” Tae says, glaring in Jihoon’s direction, who rolls his eyes in response.

“Time to cool off,” Hoseok whispers, working on backing him up. “Come on. She’s smart. Believe in her.”

Namjoon glares at the enemy he’s made today, wishing he got at least one punch in. “You best keep your mouth shut, or I’ll make sure it stays shut.”

“That’s fine. I’ll make sure Y/N’s stays wide open though, don’t worry.”

Namjoon seethes with rage as he pushes his friends forward, trying to return to the man pushing his buttons. “You really wanna throw hands, or you wanna keep making backhanded comments like a bitch? Let’s fucking go.”

“Joon, come on,” Tae and Hobi take turns trying to diffuse the anger in his eyes

Jihoon rolls his eyes again. “Listen to your boyfriends, bro.”

“Yeah, keep rolling your eyes. I see you looking for your fucking brain,” Namjoon quips with a snort. With a frustrated sigh he finally allows Tae and Hobi to goad him back to a distance where he’s not in danger of putting his fist in someone’s face.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You come back from the bathroom, panic attack only a hazy memory thanks to one of your best friends showing up to talk you through it. Of course Jennie followed you here to make sure you’d be okay. Honestly, you couldn’t be more grateful right now. She gave you the pep talk you needed.

When you finally spot Jihoon, he’s standing alone at the bar, casually leaning against it but looking pissed as fuck. Before you can ask if everything is okay, he’s pulling you into a deep kiss, forcing his wet, slimy tongue down your throat. He’s sure to make a show of it knowing that Namjoon is watching from somewhere nearby.

You wedge your hands between your bodies and break free of the kiss, feeling like that was super out of character for him with how you left things. You were hoping he’d be more thoughtful and considerate of your earlier reaction, but it only adds more proof onto the obvious statement that he is not Namjoon. You try to give him a pass because you know being horny definitely makes you stupid and needy.

“What’s gotten into you?” You giggle nervously, trying to ignore the anxiety nagging at the back of your mind. The butterflies have become a swarm of angry bees circling your belly.

He leans in to whisper against your ear, “I just want you so badly right now. I’m sorry. You wanna get out of here?”

You shift uncomfortably, unsure if you're ready for that, or if you even want that with him. A sense of obligation floods your brain, even though you know you don’t owe him a thing. How fucked up is it that you feel guilty for not putting out on the third date? You don’t actually know this guy that well, so how can you bring yourself to fuck him? Stop being a prude. It’s just sex.

Fighting the sinking feeling in your gut, you grab his hand and shyly smile at him, trying to reason with yourself that at least if you go back to your place, Hobi and Yoongi will check up on you. He takes the action as wordless approval, giving you another wet, sloppy kiss that makes the stone in your stomach feel even heavier.

He discards your fingers and moves to tugging on your wrists in a way that makes them ache. The ice pick of dread starts chipping away at the corners of your mind. He hasn’t given you a reason so far to think he’ll freak if you back out now, but the way he starts leading you towards the exit ties a knot in your throat. Soon you’re practically being dragged across the room. As heavy as the stone in your stomach is, it does nothing to slow him down.

“Jihoon. Hey, slow down! Wait a sec!”

It’s too late. Your shoulder hits the doorframe and you wince as hot pain radiates from the point of impact. Oh, that’s definitely going to bruise.

“Dude!” You wrench yourself away from his grip, nursing the growing welt on your shoulder.

He raises his eyebrows and turns back to face you, concern burdening his features. A light rain begins to blanket the two of you. “Oh, you should be more careful, Y/N. Are you okay?”

Despite the fact that he practically slammed you into the door on the way out of the building, you start to feel guilty for causing him to worry as he begins fussing over you. His fingers ghost over the hand you have clamped down over the ache.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to,” you mumble, attempting to shake off the anxiety in your gut. “But I need you to slow down. You don’t even know where I live.”

“So show me,” he prods, trailing his fingers to your chin. “I’m just so excited to be with you.”

You can hear Hobi’s voice in your head, backing the unsettling feeling traveling throughout your body. Stop making excuses. Ghost him!

You pull your head back, trying to gather the willpower to be brave and back out. “Okay… But-- I-I…” You allow a nervous chuckle to pass your lips. “Look, I-I don’t think tonight is gonna work. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling kind of sick.”

The smile on his face falls. Before he can respond, Jennie’s voice cuts through the sound of rain pattering nearby cars. “Hey!”

He looks over at the sound, furrowing his brow when he sees Namjoon walking out behind your friend.

Showing up to watch, Friend Zone?

Jihoon loudly sighs. “You know what, I’m feeling kind of sick too. Sick of you saying one thing and really wanting another.”

You blink, jaw dropping open. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a fucking tease. Always giving those bedroom eyes, telling me how much you want me, how bad you want to fuck me,” he declares, raising his volume as he watches Namjoon stop dead in his tracks.

Your face grows hot, despite the mist gathered on your cheeks. “H-Hold on. I-I never---”

“But you got this shy act going so I played along. For a bit. You want to play games again. Trying to tell me you want to wait, but I know you don’t. You were the one putting my hands all over your body earlier, practically begging me to fuck you out in the open the way you were pressing that ass into me.”

You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. Is this really happening right now? It’s a nightmare. You’ll wake up any second now. Everything he’s saying is a fucking lie. So why do you feel so ashamed, so guilty?

“You know what, Jihoon?” you pipe up, the distress in your voice apparent as the shrill words escape. “You’re being a real douche right now.”

“Yeah, well you’re being a real prude for someone who is maybe a six at best,” he snorts. “And god you’re fucking boring. You should be thanking me for even considering sleeping with you.”

The words shock your system and you stand for a few seconds just processing all of the hurtful things he just said. Suddenly the heat in your cheeks radiates throughout your chest. You feel like a fucking moron. Rage. Regret. Shame. Self-loathing. Everything hits you like a truck at once, culminating into a bubbling pressure in your throat. You want to scream, but nothing comes out except for the boiling tears streaking down your cheeks. Your hand flies up, landing across his face with a satisfying smack.

Realizing what you’ve done, your eyes go wide and then clamp shut in recoil as he raises his hand to retaliate. But the blow never lands. When you open your eyes Namjoon has his hand clamped around Jihoon’s wrist, glaring daggers at the man.

“You do not fucking touch her,” he growls. “You better get the fuck out of here before I beat your ass for even thinking about it.”

Your brain has already shut down by the time Jennie grabs your waist to pull you back into a bear hug from behind. Jihoon ticks his jaw and clenches his fists, tearing himself from Namjoon’s grip. When Tae, Hobi, and Jungkook appear by his side, it seems like he reconsiders the punch he was about to throw and backs away.

“You can have her. She’s not worth it.”

Your friends stand in front of you, an unmoving daisy chain of rage as the tears fall from your face along with the apologies on your lips. Namjoon is the last to turn around, but he’s the only person you can focus on as your body convulses with the emotional distress coursing through it. You’re soon enveloped in a group hug, pressed with a deadly tightness against Namjoon’s chest. It doesn’t make you feel any less broken, but it does make you feel grateful to have such a supportive and caring family. What would you have done if they weren’t here tonight? You shudder to think about it.

Namjoon’s fingers press against the back of your head as you spew snotted, muffled sorry’s into his shirt. He’s still holding you long after everyone else has let go, offering comforting words, making sure you know you have nothing to apologize for. In this moment, the world falls away, the pain falls away, and the only thing that matters is the overflowing love you can feel emanating from the man before you.

#moonchildnet #magicshopnet #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #bts fic #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon fluff #bts fanfic

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years ago

Text

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

Chapter 5

A/N: “Talk” “Spanish” ‘Thoughts’ Alludes to some sexy times. Lots of talks about feelings on multiple parties. Javier makes a phone appearance. Felix and Amado appear for a smidge. Blix begins to show some of her dark side.

Not gonna lie. Timeline of the show is about to get wonky, I will admit. I will give fair warning when that happens. Just rearranging certain events as it were.

A few days later, and Blix was bored out of her mind. Her stitches itched. She wanted the cast off. She was tired of avoiding arguments with Diego. She honestly was two seconds away from setting the damn house on fire.

She had gone through her files 5 times, and talked with her team, who had finished up the crime scene at La Tertulia. Nothing had been stolen, just made to appear that way. It was all a trap to get them there and try to take them out. According to intel, König had figured out that the FBI was on his tail, but he didn’t know much more beyond that.

That had been two days ago. She was currently pacing the floors. Chepe often made jokes, about her being like a carnival game. One sicario was brave enough to try and throw a tennis ball at her. She had been irritated enough to throw a knife near his face, in retaliation. No one dared to do anything similar since.

She was waiting for Pacho to return from his meeting with Escobar. Something about there being an issue in LA. She usually tuned out when he heard him talk business to his associates.

While she was waiting, a doctor had apparently been called to come in and look over wounds. Her stitches were removed, as was her cast. She was told to gently exercise with it, so as to not cause the muscles to stiffen and cause her more pain.

Once he left, she had nothing to do again, but pass time. She didn’t want to read, she wasn’t hungry. If she looked at her files again, she was going to throw them in the trash.

She eventually decided to go for a swim to pass the time. She ignored some of the whispers she heard from his men as she walked by. She had many scars throughout her body; she was well aware of what they looked like.

She swam for about an hour, during which Pacho had eventually returned, irritated. His irritation did fade a bit once he looked out from the balcony attached to his office and saw Blix swimming.

Chepe stood next to him and commented, “She is quite beautiful, no?”

Pacho smirked and nodded, “She is.”

Blix finally got tired of swimming and stepped out. As she was drying off, Diego walked over to her.

“Hm. I can see the appeal. Somewhat. You are almost beautiful. The scars though, tsk,” He began, saying it lowly to her. “You know Pacho is just using you right? You know that you mean nothing to him? That once you are no longer needed, he will cut you out? Don’t get use to his attention. It won’t last.”

Blix doesn’t respond, like she usually did. She just wrapped the towel around herself and went inside.

She took a quick shower and got dressed. While everyone was distracted with Pacho’s return she moved her files and notes and took them to the garage.

She looked around for the most inconspicuous car he owned. Which wound up being a dark green corvette, a convertible. She walked over to the wall that held the keys and found the one labeled Corvette. She grabbed them and unlocked the driver side door, reaching over and setting her files down onto the passenger seat.

When she straightened up, she jumped as she sees Chepe standing next to her.

“Trying to make the great escape eh?” Chepe teased, leaning against the car.

“I just need some air. Away from here. I am tired of being stuck here,” She quietly admitted, with a sigh. “Does Pacho know I’m out here?”

“No. I saw you sneak this way by chance. If you want to go out, I can take you, if you would like?” He offered politely.

She looked down, annoyed, and honestly exasperated. She had a quick thought; she wasn’t sure if it would work.

“Okay. Do you mind running in to get me a drink then? I don’t wanna risk running into Diego again,” She quietly pleaded. “A soda please?”

“Sure. I can do that, Little Lady,” Chepe answered, calling her the nickname that some of the guys had begun to call her.

He walked away and once he gotten a little bit away from her, she jumped in the car and locked the door. She quickly started it as Chepe, made his way back over to try and get her out. He was too slow, and she drove off thankful that each car had its own garage opener.

She drove past the guards and made her way out onto the lonely road that lead back to Cali.

As Chepe stood there, chuckling, Pacho wandered in. “What’s going on?”

“Little bird flew the nest. She apparently needed to get away for a while,” Chepe replied before turning around to go back into the house. “Let her have a day to herself Pacho. Also. Might want to talk Diego. I believe he may have said something to her again.”

“She took my favorite. A little concern about that,” He mumbled to himself, a hand rubbing over his chin nervously.

Chepe laughed at that, as they both made their way back to Pacho’s office. An hour later they finished business, and Pacho requested for Diego to come see him.

A moment later Diego appeared before him.

“My love. Why must you constantly be at odds with her?” Pacho asked sitting at his desk.

“Why did you even bring her here? Why are you even bothering with her? She said it herself, the deal the brothers want, won’t matter until Escobar is out of the picture. Why keep her around?” Diego rapid fired his questions in response.

“I like her. Simple as that. I brought her here to take care of her while she healed. I keep her around, because I enjoy talking to her. I know my answers may upset you. But you also seem to think that I’m replacing you with her, and that’s not true,” He answered truthfully, looking him in the eyes.

“I still love you Diego. She’s not taking me away from you. In fact, I’m quite certain I’ve spent most of this week with you. In your arms. Not hers. So why do you continue to belittle her?” He continued as he stood before Diego and pulled him close.

Diego looked away, and felt a small amount of guilt as he reflected over the comments he said to her.

“I will… try to tolerate her more. I make no promises. But I will stop trying to goad her into an argument,” Diego conceded.

“Thank you. That’s all I want,” Pacho said pressing a kiss to Diego’s lips. “Now, I have to go find her, and make sure she’s okay. You owe her an apology by the way.”

Diego rolled his eyes slightly but nodded his head.

Back with Blix, she had finally arrived home, parking the corvette gently in front of her home. She grabbed her stuff out of the seat, and went inside, sighing in relief at the sight of her home.

She set her files down in her office alongside her sat phone. She checked on the food in her fridge, some of which had spoiled so she tossed it out. She decided then that she wanted to go to the store and get her own groceries.

She did just that, the store she liked was only two blocks down, so she walked to it. She grabbed a couple of different meats to make meals with, and then she got a lot of junk food. Once she was done getting what she needed between food and personal hygiene items, she checked out. Her trip took about 40 mins, but it made her feel a lot better already.

While she enjoyed being at Pacho’s home, she was often left to her own devices, and her movements were restricted around the house, depending on where he had his meetings.

She quite frankly grew bored, and while she tried to strike up conversation with the men around the house, they often avoided her. Whether it was because she was a federal agent or because Pacho ordered them to not speak with her, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she simply couldn’t do much.

She returned to her house and put away everything. She called up Jacque to see if she could come into work that night. He very enthusiastically told her yes. So, she got ready, dressing up in a black halter top mini dress, with a simple v-neck. It’s straps and bodice were lace-y, the skirt ending just above mid-thigh, and flowy. She slipped on her black strappy high heels.

She did some simple makeup, lip-gloss, and a bit of eyeshadow. She thought about walking to work, but then she stared at the lovely little corvette before her. She grabbed her purse, making sure her house keys were in it, along with some cash, her IDs and such before she snatched the car keys. ‘It’s such a pretty car. I mean it should be admired, should it not?’

She drove to work, smiling. When she got to work, she greeted Jacque and the waitresses. The official story for them was that she was in a car crash. So, they all came up to check on her, and made sure she was okay.

She told them she was fine, and ready to get back to normal. The night went on like it normally did, locals in the beginning, before switching to the younger crowd.

Her head at one point did begin to pound, and she had to take a seat while she worked, because she felt a bit lightheaded.

Jacque eventually sent off on her break, and as she made her way over to the familiar taco truck, she felt a bit exhausted. She didn’t have too much time to think on it as a small force ran into her, arms wrapping around her tightly.

“Miss Bee! You’re okay. We were so worried! I -We missed you!” Came the small voice of Paulo.

She hugged him back once she regained her bearings. “Hi honey. Yes. I’m okay. I missed you too.”

She stepped forward as Paulo talked her ear off, catching her up on the local and familial drama.

“Slow down for a moment honey. I gotta order,” Blix said, trying to get him to pause for a moment. “Hello Henri. How are you?”

“I’m good little fox. I’m happy to see you out and about. Are you sure you’re okay to be working already?” Henri asked concern, looking her over.

“I’m fine. I may see about heading out early. My head is aching. But uh.. I would like the steak burrito, please?” She assured before placing her order.

“Oh? Who upset you honey?” He asked as he began to make it.

“Why do you ask that? It’s just a burrito,” Blix protested.

“You don’t order the burrito, unless you are feeling upset. It’s a part of your quirks. Steak tacos on normal days, chicken quesadillas when you have strange cravings, cause you tend to dunk them in whatever sauce is available, and burritos when you’re really upset by something,” He listed out as he cooked.

She stared at him in surprise, blinking slowly. “I… I don’t know what to say that.”

“As I said, it’s just something I noticed over the past year. By the way this is on the house,” he noted as he began assembling the burrito.

A moment later, he hands her the burrito wrapped in some aluminum foil, and a couple of napkins. He then puts out a sign saying that he’s gone on break and comes outside.

He beckons her over to one of the picnic tables, and tells Paulo to go inside, that he can catch up later.

Blix made her way over to him, hopping up to sit on the tabletop, as she took a bite of her burrito.

“Alright, lil fox, what’s going on?” Henri began, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

“I seem to have the worst taste in men,” She began softly.

“This guy I’m… dating? Sleeping with? I don’t really know what exactly it is, he… he has… a partner, who… doesn’t care for me too much, is the nice way to put it,” She slowly explained trying to take care in her words.

“I knew he had this partner from the beginning, or rather I suspected it. That’s not my problem. The problem is… I have spent the past week, being goaded and taunted by this other person, because of my looks,” She stated with a sigh, staring down at her food dejectedly. “Often times, I can ignore what people say about me. But this past week, has really done a number on me.”

“Is the man you are seeing aware of the comments, and insults?” Henri asked after a moment.

“Yes. He knows…about some of it. I gave up after the third day of it, and his partner giving no shits about what he says,” She confessed. “The thing is, I spent years… years… trying to get over my scars. There was a large portion of my life where I would spend an hour every morning, putting on makeup to cover them up.”

“What made you stop doing that?” He asked curiously.

“My friend in Bogota. He… he was the first guy who looked at me, sans makeup, and didn’t flinch. He told me that I looked like a goddess. Athena in human form. It was the sincerest compliment I had ever gotten in years. I stopped caring after that,” She answered with a fond smile, thinking of Javier.

“Sounds like a good man. Why aren’t you with him then?” Henri wondered with a chuckle.

Blix laughed in response, before replying, “Because the man is terrified of commitment.”

“Ahh. Okay then,” He responded, nodding his head. “It sounds to me however, that you need to talk to your other suitor. If this relationship is to continue, all of you have to be on the same page. Being outed by his other significant other, is not fair to you.”

“I… I don’t know anymore, Henri. Feels like I shouldn’t even bother with it anymore. Not gonna lie, I kind of ran off on him today. Just… couldn’t deal with it anymore. Maybe I am just meant to be alone,” She shrugged, before taking a large bite to distract herself.

“Now, that sounds like giving up. I didn’t take you for a quitter,” He lightly admonished. “Take some time to yourself. The next time you see him, if your heart starts to race, or you feel butterflies in your stomach, then that’s worth pursuing. It means his mere presence makes you happy.”

She smiled softly at that and nodded her head. She continued eating, the two of them talking for a while longer, before the both of them had to return to work.

She worked for another hour before leaving early. Her head was pounding, and she felt exhausted. She sat in the driver’s side of the car, resting her eyes for a moment. The lightheadedness had return as well. She heard a tap on her door, and she rolled the window down and sees Diego standing there.

“Move over to the next seat. I’ll take you home. Pacho is waiting for you there,” Diego softly ordered.

She stared at him in suspicion first, before slowly crawling over the center console, and sitting in the passenger seat. He gets in and started the car, after making sure she was secured in her seat.

“I’m… sorry.” Diego suddenly stated after a minute.

“Wow. Did that taste like vinegar coming out of your mouth?” She asked bitterly.

“Yes. It did actually,” He answered shortly.

“Thanks. I guess. You know… that I’m not trying to take him from you, right? If… when… he decides he doesn’t want me anymore, I’ll go. I’m not… here to ruin what the 2 of you have,” She quietly commented, staring out the window.

“I know…,” He responded. “Though… I have a feeling that you are going to be around for long time. The last girl he was with, he never brought her to the house. Never got her flowers. He likes you, that much I can tell. Which was why… I got territorial. Which was unwarranted. I can’t say that we will be best friends, but I will try to be less of an ass.”

“Okay. That works. Was Pacho pissed that I took his car?” She asked wanting to change the subject.

“Pissed? Concerned is more like it. This is his favorite. His baby,” Diego snorted, as they pulled up to her house.

“Oops.” She said quietly, a small snicker slipping out.

As the car came to a stop, she stepped out to see Pacho, waiting for her on the steps. He looked up at her, as she stepped forward. As his eyes locked onto hers, she felt her heart race a bit. ‘Damnit, Henri.’

She gently stepped passed him to unlock her door and walked inside without saying anything to him.

She made her way to her kitchen to get a glass of water, and some pain medicine. She swallowed the meds quickly before chugging down some water. When she finished, she noticed Pacho standing before her.

“Diego told me…everything. We spoke earlier. Hopefully, now we can all live somewhat peacefully with one another,” Pacho began.

As much as she wanted to believe that, her doubts and insecurities threatened to raise their ugly heads. She leaned against the kitchen counter behind her, gazing at the kitchen tile. Pacho moved to stand before her, and gently cupped her face with his hands, silently asking her to look up.

She does so slowly, hesitantly, biting her lip nervously.

“What’s the matter, my sweet?” He asked concerned.

“Diego… he made some points though. There is no need for you to dote over me when I’ve already agreed to do what you want. Your deal is as good as done, once the brothers have typed it up. So, why bother with me?” She questioned, her tone serious.

“I dote over you because I wish to. How many times do I have to tell you, that I find you absolutely gorgeous? Extremely breathtaking? A goddess? I’m with you, because I like you,” He praised. “Maybe I am being somewhat selfish in that I also want to learn about your every secret. Your beautiful, and charming. Smart. Witty. You have a dark side to you, that intrigues me greatly. Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

He doesn’t allow her to answer as he pressed his lips to her. Her hands slowly wrapped around his back, as one of his slid down her side.

“This dress is sexy, but... I feel like it’ll look better on the floor,” He whispered against her lips.

His hand on her side, grabbed a handful of her dress, bunching it up as he began to pull at it.

They continued to kiss until they were gasping for breath and had to pull away.

“I want you to come with me to meet with the Gallardo. We’ll be going to Panama. It’ll just be me and a few others,” Pacho requested in a whisper.

“Why? What do you need me for?” She quietly asked, curious.

“I want you by my side. Simple as that,” Pacho answered. “What do you say?”

She started to answer when her phone rang. “Hold that thought.” She said pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Hello?” She spoke into the kitchen phone.

“Hey. It’s me,” Came Javier’s voice.

“Hi. What’s up? It’s like 1am,” She said with concern.

“We got Gacha. Earlier today. We… we killed him,” He announced with a sigh.

“What? Oh my god! That’s… that’s amazing!” She congratulated. “But uh… shouldn’t you be out celebrating? Drinking? Sex with a random woman?”

As she spoke, Pacho came up behind her, and pressed kisses to the back and side of her neck.

“Thought about it… but uh… didn’t quite feel like it, I guess. I mean. I have been drinking, just not at a bar,” He responded, somewhat hesitantly.

“Javi. What’s wrong? This is a win. One step closer to Escobar, yeah?” She contended, somewhat confused by his tone.

“I uhh. Do you… do you ever think about us?” Javi inquired.

She sighed at that question, while also attempting to get Pacho to stop with his ministrations that were slowly getting bolder. His hand had slipped under her skirt and were softly massaging her inner thigh.

“How much have you had to drink Javi?” She questioned.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Javier asked back, offended.

“You don’t talk about feelings. Unless you’ve had a few. Remember, that’s how you broke up with me? Got shitfaced and told me that you saw our relationship heading nowhere,” She replied somewhat bitterly.

“…. What if I said that I was lying? That I do see something with you?” Javi inquired after a moment.

“I’d say that I would rather have this conversation when you’re sober and in front of me. Listen. Go sleep honey. I’m proud of you. Call me when you’re sober,” She answered before slowly hanging up.

She gently leaned back into Pacho’s chest with a heavy sigh. “Is Diego still outside?”

“No. Sent him home with Navegante,” Pacho murmured as he slowly began to unzip the back of her dress.

She pulled away then and began walking toward the stairs. “Good. Come upstairs then.”

He followed behind her and as they stepped into her room, she kicked off her shoes. She stepped into her bathroom for a moment to wash off her makeup before anything else.

When she stepped back out into her room, Pacho was sitting on her bed, sans shoes and socks. She slowly slipped the dress off from around her shoulders, before doing a little wiggle as she pulled it down her hips.

She stood in front of him in just her underwear and straddled his hips a moment later. She stared at the shirt he wore, a shirt that was 3 different colors. Not exactly the best looking in her opinion.

“How much… do you like this shirt?” She coyly asked, pulling at the collar with an index finger.

“It’s… alright. Why?” He inquired squinting his eyes at her in suspicion.

She simply reached over to her bedside table, and after a momentary struggle of trying to find it blindly, she found her pocketknife. She flipped it opened and gently held it at the collar of his shirt. She bit her bottom lip softly as she held his shirt firmly in her left hand. She dragged the knife down, the blade slowly ripping the fabric.

Once there was a decent tear in the shirt, she set the knife back down on the table. She then began to pull at the tear, firmly, shredding the shirt down the middle.

The entire time that was going on, Pacho watched her curiously, and was only slightly concerned when she pulled out the knife.

“So, I take it, you didn’t like the shirt?” Pacho joked once she had finished shredding it and was shoving it off his shoulders.

“It’s… it was ugly honey. I’m sorry. But… you can pull off many looks, but this… This is a no,” She slowly responded pressing a small kiss along his collar.

He laughed loudly at her response and just nodded his head. “Understandable. Just know that I can and will get you back for it. Though I will agree. It wasn’t my best.”

She giggled and sighed before sadly stating, “I’m… super tired… I would love to continue this, but I may pass out on you.”

“It’s okay. We can do some catching up in Panama if you wish?” Pacho offered kissing her slowly.

“Yeah. I like the sound of that,” She agreed before getting up to go grab an old band t-shirt to put on and take off her bra.

She could hear Pacho undressing further as well, and once she was in the shirt and her underwear, she turned to see him in just his boxers. They slipped under the covers, and Pacho quietly told her about his day, laying on his side, his head propped up on his arm. When he mentioned the horse ranch she froze.

“Wait. You… you have a ranch… with… with horses???? And you… never told me?” She asked with wide eyes staring at him.

“Yes. Would you like me to take you there sometime this week?” Pacho asked surprised.

“Uh. Yes! I love horses! Grandparents had a horse ranch, and it was the best part of my summers as a kid,” She explained excitedly. “If I had known about the ranch, I wouldn’t have gotten bored. I’d been harassin’ you to take me every day.”

He smiled sadly at her, and he apologized softly, “I’m sorry you got bored. Not going to lie, I’m used to women who love sitting around and doing nothing.”

His hand softly stroked her side as he spoke. She smiled in response, reaching up to run her hand along his jaw.

“It’s not a big deal honey. I’ve been told I’m like a husky, need to be walked 15 times a day or I’ll lose my mind,” She lightly joked.

“Then I’ll make sure you have plenty to do,” Pacho assured as he pulled her closer to him.

She snuggled into his chest, and they slowly fell asleep together.

The next morning, was a blur as they got dressed and ate a quick breakfast. She definitely packed up all her snacks, because she refused to leave her junk food behind.

As they stepped outside, her neighbor, Mrs. Garcia, said hello. She waved at her distractedly as Pacho opened the car door for her.

As they drove out to his house, he mentioned that she could have a car to claim as her own to use. “Just not this one. This one is… special.”

They spent the day at his house and planned a time to go see the horse ranch the next day. It was going to be in the afternoon, once Gilberto and Miguel left after their meeting.

The day passed normally, there were no arguments between her and Diego. They even had pleasant conservations throughout the day.

The next morning was a bit chilly, and she threw on a large fleece cardigan over her shorts and tank. As she walked around, she ran into Navegante and politely asked if the brothers had arrived yet.

Navegante informed her, “Yes, they’ve been here for about an hour now.”

She nodded her head in understanding before making her way into the kitchen. She made herself a cup of tea with honey, before grabbing 3 more cups and filling them with black coffee. She threw sugar packets into one pocket of her cardigan and different flavors of creamer packs into the other.

She made her way upstairs, gradually, and into Pacho’s office. The three were standing around the table pouring over a map. She cleared her throat to alert their attention to her.

“Sorry to interrupt. Thought some fresh coffee might help?” She offered holding them up.

Pacho smiled somewhat tightly but said thank you. She sets the cups down, pulling out the packets of sugar and creamer as her hands became free.

She glanced down at the map, which was of Mexico, and found herself looking at it confused. Most of Mexico was marked off into sectors; the various different territories. Everywhere except one place.

“Guadalajara, yes?” She confirmed without much thought. “Why is the Baja not marked off?”

Miguel cleared his throat before answering, “Guerra. Opium dealer. He owns the Baja. Doesn’t like cocaine.”

“But Gallardo’s probably made him offer right?” She guessed looking at all 3 of them.

“Yes. He probably has why?” Pacho questioned.

“You said it yourself. Gallardo’s arrogant. Probably thinks that if he controls all of Mexico, he has you in a checkmate,” Blix began to explain. “Make Guerra a better offer. Or as Marlon Brando would say, ‘Make him an offer he can’t refuse.’ It’s what I would do.”

Gilberto smirked at her before grabbing his phone and handing it and a number on a post-it note.

“Then do it.” His tone was challenging, like he was daring her.

She took both from him slowly, took a deep breath, and called the number. ‘I’m being tested. Well. Let’s see how I do then.”

The phone rang for a moment before someone finally answered.

“Hello, may I speak to Mr. Guerra please?” She politely requested.

“Mr. Guerra isn’t available righ-“ the man began before Blix cut him off.

“Listen. As someone who is clearly an overpaid secretary, I’m calling bullshit. Please tell Guerra that a representative of the Cali Cartel wishes to speak to him. Now,” She informed him firmly.

A few minutes passed before another voice, older and gravellier, answered, “Guerra speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello. My name is Blix. My… associates have heard rumors that Gallardo offered to bring you into the cocaine business, yes?” She began and before letting him answer continued. “We wish to make you a better offer?”

“Oh? Is that so? What could you possibly offer me?” Guerra inquired sounding somewhat agitated.

“I’m willing to bet that Gallardo only offered about 10% of the profits. We’d like to give you something a little more than chump change,” She offered as she leaned against the table, taking a sip of her tea.

“50%” Guerra stated.

“Guerra. I may have been born at night, but it certainly wasn’t last night. 50% is too high and you know it. Don’t insult my intelligence,” She lightly warned. “20%”

“Hm. 40%” He threw back.

“30%.” She responded hoping to trick him into going lower

“25%.” He threw out before he tried to take it back, stumbling over his words. “N-Wa-“

“Deal.” She confirmed before he could say anything. “One of my associates will be in contact with you to iron out the details, within the next day or so.”

“You are a good businesswoman, I must say. It’s not often I fumble over a deal,” Guerra complimented.

“For some reason, I just don’t believe that. You knew I wasn’t going to go much higher than 20, you just wanted to see if you could get me to agree to something higher,” She responded ignoring the compliment. “I would also like to inform you Mr. Guerra, that you should forget about your travel plans to Panama. Wouldn’t want to cause any… conflicts of interest.”

“Ah. An intelligent woman indeed. Good, you’ll need that while working with the cartel,” He stated. “Gallardo isnt going to be pleased by this.”

“Gallardo isn’t my concern. Do know this Mr. Guerra. Gallardo will probably at some point retaliate. He’s a prideful man. It’s in his nature. But what he does to you, will be nothing in comparison to what we will do if you try to betray us,” She cautioned.

“Are you… are you threatening me?” He accused.

“No. Warning. Because... Gallardo will take revenge, sure. But Cali? No. Revenge is petty. Beneath us,” She stated darkly. “Accidents however… Accidents can and do happen every day. Like… fires, gas leaks, that sort of thing can happen anywhere, like at your restaurant, your home/ranch, that shitty lil town you’ve proclaimed yourself as king, or your acres of opium. Would be such a shame… if anything happened to your livelihood.”

It was quiet, but she could hear him breathing, “Understood.”

“Good! As I said, earlier, someone will be in touch to finetune the details. Have a lovely day, Mr. Guerra,” She ended the call with a perky tone.

She handed the phone back to Gilberto and said, “That wasn’t too hard. Enjoy your coffees.”

She walked away with her tea, toward her room, to get dressed for the afternoon.

Pacho watched her leave with an impressed smirk plastered on his face, his eyes dark as he watched her leave.

“Did that… really just happen?” Miguel asked in disbelief.

“It did indeed. I told you. She has a darkness to her, and I love seeing it,” Pacho grinned, lighting a cigarette. “It was also her way of speeding up the meeting so we can go to the ranch.”

The brothers laughed and soon enough their meeting had ended. As soon as it was over, he walked down to Blix’s room. He leaned against the door-jam as he watched her get ready. She was slipping on a pair of cowboy boots when she noticed him standing there.

“Oh? Done so soon?” She greeted happily, walking over to him.

As she stepped up to him, he pulled her close and kissing her passionately.

“Wow. What uh… what was that for? Not that I’m complaining,” She wondered breathlessly, when they pulled apart a moment later.

“You are very sexy. Even moreso when threatening men. Couldn’t help myself,” He whispered to her.

She shook her head at him before excitedly asking, “So the ranch? Horses?”

He nodded, laughing at her as she bounced up and down in front of him, like a child.

They made their way down to his car, and off they went to the ranch. The ranch was only 20 minutes from his home and as they pulled up her excitement ramped up.

She was out the door before he could even turn the car off. She rushed up to the stalls and began excitedly talking to both the horses and the stable hands that were working.

Pacho slowly walked up behind her and listened to her coo to the horses as she ran her hands down their faces.

They spent several hours there, half of it spent with her in awe of each horse, and the other half was her riding around the stables on some of the horses.

Lunch was served late there, and as they ate, he commented, “If I had known the ranch would make you so happy, I would’ve brought you sooner. Don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much.”

“I smile? What do you mean?” She asked confused as she looked at him taking a sip of the daiquiri that he insisted on making her.

“I mean, that since the second we pulled up, you haven’t stopped smiling. You smiled even when Rowdy tried to eat your shirt. It’s quite beautiful to see you so happy,” He further explained with a fond smile.

She looked down, a light blush gracing her cheeks.

“You mentioned last night that your grandparents had a ranch? What happened there?” Pacho asked curiously.

“The short story? My grandparents died, and my mother didn’t want to deal with it,” She explained quietly as looked away.

“And the long story?” Pacho lightly probed, his hand reaching out to hold hers.

“My sisters and I… we loved it. It was the best 2 to 3 weeks of our summer. Spending our time at the ranch. Training horses. My grandfather had show and race horses. We would trade off each day on who we would work with on what.” She began thinking about to it fondly.

“When they died, my mother wanted nothing to do with it. Sold off the horses. Fired the workers. Cut down the apple orchard we had opened for the public to go apple picking. The barns have been hit hard with storms, and my mother didn’t care to fix them. If she could she would’ve sold the land as well,” She explained rather sadly.

“Why didn’t she?” Pacho inquired.

“Grandparents left it in their will that the ranch was to go to us. That when we were old enough, we could decide who would run it. That the land could only be sold by us if we all agreed to. So, my mother found a loophole around it. Can’t have much of a ranch if there’s nothing there,” She concluded with a half shrug.

“I’m sorry your mother stole that from you and your siblings,” Pacho consoled as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to it.

She didn’t respond beyond shrugging and letting out a small sigh.

“So. Tonight we leave for Panama yeah?” Blix changed the subject.

He nodded his head, and reported, “Yes. We leave on a late flight, check into our hotel, and then meet with Gallardo tomorrow at noon. In fact, we should probably head back, and pack up.”

They did just that, got home, packed, and she met a few other members, like Salcedo, and a couple of guards going with them.

The flight to Panama was swift, and soon they were in their hotel room, resting. Morning came around, and as they made their way to the hotel where Gallardo was at, Pacho made a quick explanation.

“When we get there, if you could please wait downstairs for 20 minutes. I doubt the meeting shall take very long, but I would prefer it if you did not get involved any more than you have. I’ll have a guard with you, just go shopping or something. I’ll come retrieve you,” He informed her as they pulled up to the hotel.

She raised an eyebrow and decided she wasn’t going to argue about this, right now. She got out and with her newly grown shadow in the form of a 30 something year old man named Thierry; she wandered the shops.

She came across a jewelry store and waltzed in, looking at everything bored. Something eventually caught her eye as she made her way over to the men’s jewelry.

As she looked at it, a small smile grew on her face. A store assistant came over and asked if he could help her.

“Yes. Can I see that necklace please?” She politely asked pointing at it.

He reached in and grabbed the necklace, displaying it in the palm of his hand.

She inspected it closely and hesitantly said, “Umm. That necklace has a small scratch on it… would there happen to be anything similar to it?”

A manager happened to be walking by and overheard the conversation. He inspected the necklace and spotted the imperfection before telling the employee to put it with the discount items somewhat annoyed.

“Come this way ma’am. I’m sure this one over here will please you greatly,” He schmoozed in a hoity manner, giving her a look.

He brought her over to another display case and pulled out a similar necklace. She nodded her head, stating ”Yeah. This one is much better. How much?”

“$647.32. In American dollars.” He answered in a mockingly sad tone.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope that her tips from the brothers in it. She counted out 650 and told him to keep the change. He tightly smiled and boxed it up before handing it to her.

She rolled her eyes at his attitude and made her way back out to her guard.

“Just because your item got fucked up, doesn’t mean you need to get all snooty about it,” She muttered under her breath annoyed.

She continued exploring, getting slowly more and more annoyed with her babysitter, since he kept trying to steer her over to the elevators. She eventually made her way through a large crowd and lost him after a moment.

She noticed as she walked further on that there was an art auction going on in one of the conference rooms that was open to the public.

As she strolled that way, she ran into 2 men, one of whom she had seen pictures of.

“Mr. Gallardo. That was quick, I hope Pacho wasn’t too cruel with you,” She greeted as she blinked at him.

“No. Not at all miss?” He prompted.

“Blix. I hear you enjoy art; would you like to join me in viewing the auction?” She politely asked before turning to the other man with him. “Hello. You can join us as well Mr.?”

“Amado. I’ll just.. wait here. Thanks.” He declined with a nod of his head.

Felix and she made their way into the auction and began looking over the art. Blix stared at some items with intensity, and Felix who did look at the art, was more intrigued by the woman next to him.

“So, you are with the Cali? A bit odd for a federal agent, no?” Felix questioned, looking at her curiously.

“Hm. It’s… an interesting arrangement let’s just go with that. Besides. They are not my concern. Not my division as it were,” She replied meeting his eyes.

“Yes. I heard you were in art crimes,” Felix acknowledged as they made their way through a section of impressionist art.

“Yes. Art is quite fascinating. Horace once said that a picture was a poem without words,” Blix noted. “That picture in my opinion can mean anything. There’s always something that speaks to you. Whether it’s religious, political, or personal. Art is a reflection of you.”

They stopped near a canvas that had a weeping willow tree, the vines covered in ice.

“Take this for example. To you it’s simply a tree. To me… it reminds me of my childhood home. We had willows everywhere,” She said as an example. “Art, no matter the format, is an extension of you. Extension of your personality.”

He smiled at her and nodded, and before he could respond, they heard a throat clear behind them. As they turned to it, Pacho stood there, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Uh-oh. It appears I’m in trouble. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Gallardo,” She whispered conspiratorially holding her hand out to shake.

He took it and instead of shaking it, kissed the back of it. “The pleasure was mine. I do hope Mr. Herrera brings you out to our meetings more often.”

He walked away and met up with Amado, before disappearing.

Blix quietly followed Pacho who she could tell was fuming. His shoulders were tensed, and he was breathing roughly.

They made their way back to their hotel in silence. They even left that night instead of staying like they originally planned.

As they stepped over the threshold of his home, she finally broke the tension, “Are you going to stay mad at me forever? Or are you going to finally tell me what’s wrong?”

“I had the guard with you for a reason. He was there to protect you. Instead of doing what I asked you not only ignored it, but put yourself onto Gallardo’s radar, for no reason” He fumed, glaring at her.

“I am a federal agent. I can take care of myself. I do not need a guard or protection. I can protect myself quite well. Been doing so for a very long time,” She reminded him.

“As for Gallardo, I ran into him by accident. I didn’t seek him out. I figured he knew who I was, which he did, and I was just being polite. That’s it,” She reassured.

He took a deep breath, looking away. “I don’t like you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. If he had decided to retaliate against me, using you…”

She stepped up to him, placing her hands on his chest, and soothed, “But he didn’t. I’m still here. Annoyed that we didn’t stay in Panama, especially after I got you something, but still here.”

He placed his hands on her hips, and said, “Oh? You did? What?”

“Not giving it to you now. You were a brat. I’ll give it to ya when you’ve earned it,” She teased as she walked away.

Pacho raised an eyebrow at that comment and chased after her, grabbing her around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder.

“A brat eh? Takes one to know I think,” Pacho mocked, smacking her on the ass.

“Really? Did you seriously just?” She asked in disbelief, before smacking his butt in return. “Turnabout is fair play.”

He carried her upstairs, both of them laughing at each other, before he decided to make it up to her all night long.

A few days had passed, and she still had yet to give Pacho the necklace she got him. He was convinced it was a watch. It wasn’t until a package arrived for her at Pacho’s house that she decided to give him the gift. Especially when she realized that the gift was from Gallardo. It was the painting of the willow tree that they had looked at together.

The painting came with a note, “It was a pleasure speaking you, my lady. I hope we can talk more soon.”

Pacho was annoyed by its presence. So, she pulled out the velvet box that held his necklace in it, hoping it would soothe things over.

He was sitting in at his desk in his office when she walked in. She moved over to him and gently sat in his lap, presenting the box to him. He opened it slowly.

“A crocodile?” Pacho questioned confused.

“I don’t know jackshit about watches, so don’t ever expect one from me. But I do know that in most ancient cultures, the crocodile is one of the few animals that was revered. They’ve been worshipped longer than God. Deified for well over a millennium,” She began to explain as she took it out of the box.

“They represent duality. Tough enough to withstand bullets, but do not do well with criticism. They are precise with every move they make and see opportunities where others cannot. They are cunning, strong, brave, and dependable. That’s what I see when I look at you,” She described as she hooked it around his neck.

“So, my primordial being, do not bother yourself with the opinions of sheep or the thoughts of lesser men. I certainly don’t,” She requested with a kiss. “I want you to wear it for good luck. Protection.”

Her phone at that point began to ring, and she stared at the number slightly confused, for she did not recognize it. She answered it after a moment. “Hello?”

“Hello Miss Lage. This is Felix Gallardo,” Came the response.

“Oh. Mr. Gallardo, how are you?” She replied turning to Pacho with a wide eye look. His returning look was with narrowed eyes, and a tense jaw.

“I simply wanted to make sure that painting arrived safely,” He informed softly.

“Yes. Yes, it did. I was hoping to be able to thank you in person, but this works too. It’s quite lovely,” She thanked, wondering where this was heading.

“Good. I must say, I was a bit hesitant to get it for you, since you looked at it so sadly, but then I saw a glimmer of something, that… I could relate to,” Felix admitted. “I saw a longing. For home. I often get that way myself thinking about Sinaloa.”

“Home? Not necessarily. Simpler times, more like. Haven’t missed home in quite some time,” She lightly argued.

“Hm. It is rather interesting, though. The things we would do for those we consider home. Safe. Like threatening an opium dealer to cut a deal for your lover. Guerra said he spoke to a charming young lady. Would hate for anything to befall said lady, for sticking her nose into business she does not belong in,” He vaguely threatened.

“Well. Mr. Gallardo. I would simply say that I can take care of myself. I’ve dealt with plenty of villains, Felix, and I hate to break it to you, but I’ve faced scarier. Have a lovely day,” She hung up the phone after that.

“Villains? You mean… your mother?” Pacho tried to clarify.

“Let’s just say, ruining a ranch, was nowhere the worst thing she ever did to me,” She whispered vaguely gesturing at her face.

“I see. Well then. I guess it’s a good thing you are mine. Anyone tries to harm you, they’d be dead,” He promised after a moment of silence, fully understanding what she was implying.

She smiled sweetly at him, and they spent the rest of the day talking about his work. He was giving her a glimpse into his world and how it worked. That to her was a level of trust she wasn’t expecting, but she appreciated it, nonetheless.

Neither of them were aware of the chaos that was about to unfold, due to the events going on in Medellin.

#pacho herrera #pacho herrera x oc #narcos #slight narcos mexico #slight javier x oc

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