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cozykozume · 4 years ago

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Can you handle it? (NSFW)

(Stoner)Asahi x (stoner)reader

You’re at a party with your friends and so is he. After a nice little smoke session, you guys take a walk. And one thing leads to another....

Warnings: Partying/alcohol/drugs (barely, its weed), reader/asahi under the influence, creampie, hooking up with stranger, fingering, i’m really bad at tagging tbh, breeding kink if you squint (really hard)

Word count: 2804

Proof read but still might be some mistakes. Sorry if there is!

Did you really want to come to this house party? Mehh

It was not at the top of your list of ways to spend your Friday night. Could you think of worse ways to spend your evening? Absolutely.

You stay towards the edge of the room, watching people as they interact with each other.

Had you not smoked so much, and maybe drank a little less, you might realize how creepy you probably seem. But you had hit that perfect level. The perfect balance between smoking, drinking and sobriety. Now you just had to milk that line while enjoying yourself.

You slip into the dining room, a table placed in the middle with beer pong set up. You once again find your way to the edge, watching as guys try to shoot their shot and get shot down.

Hard.

You find it funny, smiling to yourself as you giggle softly, and take another sip out of your cup. You shift your gaze into the kitchen where you meet a pair of bloodshot, glassy dark brown eyes. Whoever the owner of said dark brown eyes was smiled at you, his muscular face softening as he maintains eye contact with you.

For whatever reason, you feel yourself drawn to him, making your way over to him slowly. As you get closer to the kitchen you look in the direction that he was once in.

Those dark brown eyes are gone.

You feel a little disappointed as you begin to turn around, heading for the back door. Right as you make that complete 180, you run right into the chest of a very tall man with his hair pulled into a sloppy low bun...and dark brown eyes.

His large hand covers the small of your back, steadying you as you grab his arms. You just look up at him, trying to remember how to speak as he smiles down at you again. He leans down, getting closer to your ear, “Hi. I’m Asahi.”

You blush, his deep voice causing your stomach to stir and skin to crawl in the best way possible.

“Hi..I’m y/n.” You say, leaning close to him as you remember how to speak.

He nods his head, taking your hand softly and leading you outside to the back porch. As you walk through the door, he closes it behind you, shutting off the loud music and even louder voices from inside as you sit down on the stairs of the deck. You stare out into the dark backyard, listening to the faint voices of the few people outside smoking and hanging out.

You suddenly feel nervous, realizing that this man was so much more attractive up close and he was the one that pulled you out here. Wiping your palms down your bare thighs, you curse yourself for wearing this particular skirt to a party.

You feel Asahi’s large body sitting down next to you, heat and pleasant smell surrounding you as he gets comfortable. “So y/n...What or who brings you to this party tonight?” You smile, looking over and up at him, once again caught off guard by his chiseled jawline and perfectly shaped lips.

“Uhh my friends wanted to get out and one of them is dating a friend of the owner of the house I think? Honestly I’m not even sure” You laugh, drinking the last bit in your cup before setting it to the side. “And what about you? What brings you out and about?” You ask, digging around in your jacket pockets looking for your dugout. He shrugs, “A friend of mine is friends with the owner of the house I think?” He says, smirking slightly when you finally twist your dugout open, sliding the one hitting out and starting to pack it.

“Oh.. sorry I hope you don’t mind..” You say quietly, forgetting that not everyone in the world was okay with smoking weed or being around it. He shakes his head, pulling a cigarette pack out of the inside of his jacket pocket. He slides a pre rolled joint out of it, followed by his lighter. “You are all good. You’re in good company”

You smile before putting the one hitter between your lips, lighting and inhaling hard. You hear his lighter flick as he lights his joint, his breath sucking hard as he pulls the smoke deeper into his lungs.

You both smoke in silence for a few minutes, packing your one hitter 2 more times before putting it away, feeling the high all the way down to your toes.

He continues to smoke slowly, inhaling as he watches you, losing focus as you stare out into the dark backyard. He hits it one more time before offering it to you, you shrugging and taking 2 hits and passing it back.

After a while of him smoking and occasionally passing it to you, you both sit there blazed and feeling great. You lean back on your hands, letting your head fall back as you close your eyes and let your body feel the high. You guys talk about random things are they pop up, with bouts of comfortable silence in between.

You notice Asahi’s hand inching its way closer to you, his pinky toying with yours. You feel a sheepish smile spread across your face, looking over at him with eyes too heavy to open all the way. His eyes also red, glassy and looking very heavy.

You decide this is a cute look for him, furthering your smile as you stare for a second too long.

His deep voice pulls you out of the haze in taking over your brain, “so uh..Do you want to go for a walk in the back? I saw you eyeballing it and it’s pretty big.” He asks, you hearing the somewhat nervous edge to it. You nod your head, smiling as you slowly stand up, pulling your short skirt down just a tad. You don’t miss as Asahi’s eyes pause at where your skirt begins, for the first time noticing how short it really is.

You walk side by side into the large back yard, letting the darkness swaddle you. You look up at the sky, noticing the bright stars in the sky, and how the darkness seems to warm you up. Or maybe that was Asahi as he was standing close to you, his hand bumping into yours until finally lacing his fingers with yours.

For such a large and confident looking man, he seemed so shy each time he made any kind of move on you. It was adorable but didn’t exactly match what he looked like. You once again got lost in your thoughts, wondering how he was the exact opposite from what you would expect (but not in a bad way).

As you pass by a large tree, hidden from the eyes of anyone at the party who might be looking towards you two, you feel Asahi slow down a bit as he steps behind you. His large hands slide around your waist as he lets go of one of your hand and pulls you close.

“If this isn’t okay in any way..” he begins to say. You shake your head, stopping so that he is directly behind you, pressed against you as his arms tighten around your body. “Nope this is okay with me..” You say quietly, lightly dragging your nails over his arms until you can feel him shiver.

He lowers his head, planting a soft kiss against your neck “good…” he murmurs before starting a slow trail of kisses and nips along your neck. You lean your head to the side, giving him more room. You feel one of his hands leave your body, as he takes a few steps forward, trapping you between him and the large tree covering you both from any prying eyes. You move one hand to brace yourself against the tree, bending slightly to grind yourself back into Asahi. A soft grunt leaves his lips as he pulls your hips back against him harder, bending you a little further over as he goes from soft kisses and nips, to full on sucks and bites.

You can’t help but push back against him, feeling his semi-hard cock already poking at the front of his jeans. Be it the alcohol, weed, or just Asahi in general, you were in a mood. Your other hand snakes into his hair, turning your head and finally connecting your lips with his. Once your lips met, the tension around you snapped and the feeling of everything changed.

It went from flirty grinding and kissing, to full on dry humping against this tree.

You had both hands planted, your legs spread wider, bent over at the waist with an arch in your back. Asahi was of course, planted between your legs from behind, his body hunched over yours as he had one hand against the tree and the other tightly wrapped around you to keep you in place.

You lean your head back, meeting his shoulder as small huffs and whines escape your lips. This spurs him on further, pushing your skirt up and over your hips and lowering his pants so only 2 layers of clothing separate you two. You can feel his cock poking and rubbing at your pussy, causing the wetness between your legs to intensify. He moves his hand from your hips further down, rubbing your clit through your panties as his cock teases and pokes at your sopping hole from behind. Your hand shoots from holding onto the tree, to a locked grip on his wrist as his thick fingers tease and toy with you.

“Please…” you whisper softly, your hips rolling and pushing against him.

A sign leaves Asahi’s mouth, his thrusting against you becoming harder and more intense. His gruff voice is suddenly in your ear, “again..say it again.” At this point, you’re not sure what you are asking for, but you know you want something. “Please...I need more” You huff out, pushing your needy little cunt further into his hand.

You hear him growl before feeling your panties ripped down to your mid thigh, the cool air hitting your sex and causing a shiver up your spine. Before you have a chance you wince, Asahi has one thick finger buried inside you, causing you to moan softly. You push back against his hand, wanting more to feel more of that delicious stretch deep inside you.

“God I thought you would be tight...but fuck..” he trails off, leaning back to look at where your pussy was sucking his finger up. He slowly adds a second finger, pumping slowly to give you time to adjust. You moan out, pushing your hips back on his hand as you start to get lost in the feeling. You let out whimpers and whines as you fuck yourself on his thick fingers. You lose yourself so much that you don’t hear as he pushes down his boxers, his cock finally popping out of the restrictive clothing.

He grips himself, lazily stroking up and down as he watches you move back and forth on his fingers. He feels like he could cum just from watching you do this. He feels your soft insides start to tighten around his fingers, “Asahi…” You whine, looking over your shoulder at him with a pleading look.

That was all it took for any self control to be thrown out the window. He lines himself up with you, using the liquids on his fingers to coat his cock. He teases your hole with the tip, “If it’s too much..just tell me..” You nod, at a loss for words as he starts to push himself in. You feel like you’re being ripped in half in the best possible way.

As soon as he bottoms out he leans forward again, one hand braced against the tree and the other gripping your hip. You use both hands to steady yourself, already feeling your legs start to shake from the stimulation.

He starts with slow thrusts, his breathing uneven as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck.

Within minutes, he is pounding your insides, using the leverage he has on the tree to crash into you harder.

You have both hands against the tree, pushing back against him with all that you can as you begin chasing your own high. His breathing turns into grunts and then into full moans in your ear, spuring you on further. Just hearing him fall apart in your ear this way was doing things to your insides you had not thought possible.

He moves his hand down, rubbing and toying with your clit as he jackhammers into you from behind. You feel the tears start to form in the corners of your eyes as you get closer and closer, the throbbing in your clit snapping and exploding. Your pussy starts convulsing, your legs shaking as you try to keep your moans down and your breathing somewhat even. But even your best attempts are no match for the orgasm that finally rips through your body. You feel every nerve in your body twitching all at once, Asahi moving his hand from your clit to your waist to keep you from falling. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, holding you up as if you were a rag doll.

He slows down as you try to catch your breath. “Mmm I hope you aren’t K.O.ed yet..I haven’t gotten to finish yet…” He says, slowly pulling out of you to turn you around. You shake your head, looking up at him as you push your panties the rest of the way down your legs. You grab them and put them into your jacket pocket, not wanting to lose them out here. “Good.” He says, stepping closer to you, reaching down to grab you by the back of the thighs and lift. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he uses one hand to position himself to sink into your dripping slit.

He moans loudly into your neck, unwrapping one of your legs and tucking it over his arm. In this position, you are sure you can feel him in your stomach as he bottoms out and holds you to him.

It is now your turn to mark him up as he starts to hump away at your sensitive cunt. You suck and bite his neck, using your arms to pull your chest close to him. He takes your hips in his hands and hammers away, knocking the breath out of you each time.

He leans his head back, grunting with each thrust,

“fuck”

Hearing him, you tighten your leg around him.

“God how do you take it all inside you”

You feel your breath catch, your nails digging into his back as they find their way down the back of his shirt.

“That's it, give it up to me..”

You once again feel the pulsing of your pussy around him, that pre orgasm hazy already starting to take over as you beg him not to stop. He continues to batter your insides, slamming into you as hard as he possibly can.

“Be mine be mine bemine..!”

Hearing those possessive words come from such a mild tempered person was the last straw as you sink your teeth into his shoulder, holding in a scream as you cum violently around his cock for the second time that night. This time though, you felt him jackhammer until he fell out of rhythm, his pace slowing as you felt his warm seed filling you up. You rest your head in the crook of his neck as he takes the next few minutes to use your body, milking his cock for every drop of cum possible.

You lay against him as the haze clears and you realize…”you came inside me..” He clears his throat, pulling back to look down at you and then to where you two are still connected. “oh...I didn’t even think..” You look up at him, “umm neither did I. Like, I have an IUD, so I’m not worried about that. And I’m clean..” He quickly adds, “as am I. Clean. I’m clean.” You nod, feeling his cum starting to leak out of you.

You hated how the idea of fucking a stranger, but not like, a total stranger, was still turning you on.

“Soo like...I mean..If you can get it up for a round two, my car is just down the street..” You say quickly. He smiles, his hips already starting to move in a slight pumping motion, “Oh I can make it round 2. Do you think you can handle it?”

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kosmosguk · 4 years ago

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5 days of spooktober~ #1: drowning

day #1: merman namjoon x reader

word count: 1.8k

summ. your biggest mistake is trying to find a prince in the mysterious creature of the sea.

warnings: smut, dubcon themes, drowning, yandere themes, 18+, explicit language, naïve reader, near-death experiences

The water lapped at your feet and soaked the hem of your heavy skirt, crashing against the shore as the moon shone ominously in the sky, and you could feel the damp smell of salt settle into the back of your throat when you made eye contact with him.

He was not a human being, that you were sure of; no human being swam the way he did, and no human being ever looked at you the way he did. You opened your mouth to say something—maybe you were trying to scream, or maybe you were trying to gasp—but all he did was raise one finger to his pale lips as if he were shushing you. With a slap of his tail against the water, a brief glimmer of waxy moonlight reflecting in aquatic scales, he was gone.

That was not the last time you had seen him.

The next time you saw him, he had been trapped on the sand. No one had been around. You took a moment to trace your eyes on his features. He was beautiful, and without the tail and the crust of sand on his body, he would have been like an exceptionally handsome storybook prince.

It was like your little secret when you bent down, sand smearing on the dainty fabric of your gown, and rolled him down the sand and into the water. You had never felt the skin of a man before that had not been your family, and you held your breath as his touch left your palms. His skin was cold, despite the heat of the sun trying to dry him out, and you felt your skin get hot.

It was not from the sun.

The touch of water against him seemed to invigorate him, and with a splash he was back in the water, too far away from your touch. Even then, you could still feel the cool left on your fingertips.

“Bye, bye, Sir. Tell me how the ocean is.” You had whispered. That whisper had been for yourself, but the ocean had heard. The sun shimmered on its pale surface, reflecting off the steady eyes that had glued themselves to the still crouched human on the shore.

You met him the third time on that very same beach, but he was more careful this time. He stayed where there was still water that could soak his tail. You kneeled in front of him, owlish gaze pinned to the unique specimen.

“Can you,’’ you paused, squinting underneath the sun to look at him properly,” understand me?’’

He clicked his tongue and nodded his head. You giggled in delight, a sound that made him freeze until he caught the sight of your smile.

“Are there…Are there others like you? And are there fairies and creatures that suck blood, and oh the ones that spin a wand and poof! a miserly girl becomes a princess?’’

“Some…,’’ his voice crackled out, dry,’’ But no wand.”

“Oh my! How lovely,’’ you cooed,’’ You know, sir, you really are handsome, even though I’m sure you’re not human. In fact, it’s perhaps the fact that you are not human that makes you so handsome. Papa introduced me to a man to get married to, and he told me that man was handsome, but oh, was he nearly the same age as Papa. I think you’re much more handsome, and if I could do any math I might be able to tell you how much.”

He shook his head and bared his teeth. You laughed.

“You’re very handsome.”

You paused as an idea sparked in your head.

“Hey, hey, I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to get kissed by a prince. I’ll be like a princess, and maybe you’ll grow legs, and we can dance in a ballroom, and I’ll wear a pretty sparkling gown, and birds will place roses in my hair.”

Before you could say anything further, his fingers were already in your gown and he was pulling you in. You cried out as water splashed onto your body, but that cry was muffled as your lips met his. He tasted like the ocean, a salt that lingered in your mouth, and you let out a pleased sigh as he peeked his tongue through your lips and suckled on your tongue. His kiss was not gentle, it was not at all like the way a prince would kiss a princess, but you did not care. He kissed like an animal, and all you could do was let out wanton sounds like the promiscuous woman your papa banned you from ever becoming.

You felt a sting of sharp teeth against your bottom lip, and you let out a cry as he swiped his tongue over the ruby droplet of blood on your lip. You felt hot when he finally let you go, a heat unfurling in your stomach. Suddenly, you were aware of the dampness of your skirt—oh, your governess was going to be furious—and the sting in your lip. You pushed yourself away, standing up with your hands covering your mouth, and you ran away without another word, leaving the merman sitting there with his eyes greedily attached to your fleeing form.

But even then, you could not stay away. Not even the vow you had made to not entangle yourself with the supernatural could keep you from coming back after a bitter argument with your papa about your engagement. And he was still there.

It seemed his eyes had never left you when you sobbed and flung yourself into the sand before him. He was chirping to you now, singing to you a pleasant song that reduced your weeping, and you were drawing yourself closer to him. He was whispering a hum to you, his touch hot as he reached underneath your gown and stroked the place that had been burning for his touch. You gasped and shivered in pleasure as he spread your hot folds open, the wanton squelch of your pussy hidden in the waves of the sea.

You were foolish. You did not care in that moment what was going to happen in the future.

You were crying now for a different reason. The sting of his cock crashing through your purity and stretching you uncomfortably left your nails dragging down his alabaster-like skin. Oh, oh, he was so big. You whimpered, and he only shushed your lips like he had done when the two of you had first met.

He rutted into your pussy, and your walls quivered at the impact. You scrambled at the sand, your palm clasped over your mouth as you muffled your moans so the guards would not hear. One particular thrust hit deeper than before, and a slip of a cry left between the tiny gaps of your fingers.

You had no name for him, and so you cried out the name of the prince in your storybook.

“Namjoon, mm!’’ you panted out, and you tried to push away from him when he held onto your hips and pulled you deeper down his cock. “Oh! Oh! Namjoon, ngh—!’’

He clicked his tongue in response, a warble of sounds pushing through his throat and obstructing any attempts of English. You were so wet and tight around him. In that moment, he was sure that you were his mate, the one love a merman could ever have and could never let go.

You sucked in a shaky breath and your head tilted back as your walls fluttered around and clenched down on his cock. You heard him make a strangled groan, his sharp teeth gnashing together, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you collapsed into a new high you had never known before. You felt something sticky fill your walls up, and you could only let out a pathetic little moan as he rutted lightly into your sore pussy.

“My…my mate,’’ you heard him rasp through clenched teeth, and you let out whimpers as what you had done settled into your brain in a panic. You had touched with another man…Well, he wasn’t a man, but he had soiled the purity you were supposed to retain for your husband. You tried to get up, but the man in front of you shook his head and dug his claws in so deep into your dress that the nails scraped against your skin.

“I-I have to go!’’ You tried to rip away your gown from his grip, but he didn’t let go. He had seen you run away before; he couldn’t have that again.

“No…No run away…I won’t let you, my mate,’’ he pushed out through his throat, and you felt your eyes widen in fear as he dragged you closer to him. He was pressing his lips against yours, the kiss rougher than the one had had given you before, and you could only let muffled noises as he sealed your lips with his. You were drowning in his kiss, in the strange interest of this wild creature that you were not supposed to encounter, and you realized that he was pulling you closer to the water.

You were soaking in water now, and your gown remained in tatters as the cold salty water brushed over your heated skin, and you were crying now, sobbing, as he kept kissing you. He let out shushing noises, almost as if he was trying to calm you, but you only wept louder as you were pulled deeper and deeper into the water.

“Please, please!’’ you tried to call out, but his lips muffled yours. You couldn’t fight anymore, not when he was clutching you so hard, and you had hopelessly given up your future with one heated moment of passion. With one more final drag and a final thrash of his powerful tail against the water, you were underneath.

You choked for a second, thrashing as you reached the water, but he was holding onto you. You shivered in fear as a small drag of his sharp teeth against your soft tongue left you bleeding, and you could only attempt to make another plea for help as you were submerged in water.

There was a murmur of dissent when the maids found your empty bed. Ah, perhaps, the others whispered, you had eloped with a lover to escape your engagement. Stories grew, ranging from a midnight rendezvous with a commoner to a monster half-fish half-man that had dragged the young lady into the briny depths. After all, the manor was close to the water. But the less superstitious people shook their head and mocked the fearful.

“What monsters are there in the sea other than the ones we can hook and devour?’’

And it seemed like the ocean heard their doubt. With a crash of water against the sandy shores, the footsteps that had been yours and the scraps of torn fabric were swallowed up by the sea.

#yandere bts #yandere #yandere namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts smut #yandere smut #yandere lemon #bts lemon #bts x reader #namjoon #namjoon smut #bts fic #yandere fic

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squeeneyart · 4 years ago

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Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 23

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

It's harder to say it out loud.

Jon and Martin catch up.

As the seconds ticked by and Martin failed to respond, Jon adjusted a small bag slung across his shoulder. “It’s um- I understand this might come as a shock. I hadn’t meant for my entrance to be so dramatic, but this place seems to insist on a particular atmosphere.”

Martin heard the words as they slipped past on the wind, the skin drawing his full attention. It wasn’t like his mother’s, dusty and worn and so very old. No, this seemed to shine in the rain and seawater, but his chest constricted at the sight of it.

Despite Jon’s efforts to conceal it, a shiver ran through his shoulders.

“Right, sorry,” Martin croaked out, then coughed until his throat behaved itself. He found his hand still gripping the door knob and gave it a twist. “Sorry. Yeah, come on in.”

Jon’s stiff shoulders dropped, and with some eagerness he walked up the stairs to escape the rain. “Sor- Thank you. It’s not the best night to be out dressed like this.”

He wasn’t wrong. Warm light poured out from the doorway onto the front porch, illuminating Jon in his soaked-through fleece jumper and jeans, a far cry from the waterproof seal coat in his arms. It was no wonder that Jon was quick to enter the house and leave the damp, cold night behind. With one last look outward, Martin dipped inside and shut the door behind him.

Jon seemed uncertain where to go next and stood next to the coat hooks, leaning from one foot to the other.

“Do you want to...um, put it down? You can hang it up in the shower if it’s still wet,” Martin said, placing his own coat on a hook as casually as he could manage. “I don’t know if hooks would be, um, good for it?”

With a nervous glance downwards, Jon nodded and slipped his shoes off. “Right. That makes sense. I guess it is dripping everywhere.” Yet he continued to stand on the front rug.

Ah, right. “If you don’t want to lose sight of it, that’s-”

“It’s not- I’ll go hang it up now. Is it down the-”

“Second door on the right.”

“Right.” And Jon stalked down the hall into the toilet and closed the door, leaving Martin by the front entrance.

Martin wasn’t going to scream and freak Jon out right off the bat. Not that Jon worked too hard to give him the same courtesy.

Jon was a-

Shit. Martin pressed a shoulder against the wall and forced himself to breathe. It was fine. It made sense, right? Jon’s interest in selkies was bound to come from somewhere. He was knowledgeable in a way that would’ve required access to a selkie directly, and finding one couldn’t have been easy.

There was a twisting in his upper chest, but he heard the door down the hall open and straightened himself out. Jon came out in a plain t-shirt and different trousers, evidently leaving his other clothes to dry.

He rubbed his upper arms. “An explanation is probably necessary.”

Martin took a good look at him, all skinny limbs and uncertain glances. Bags much deeper than before dragged down under his eyes and without the extra layers hiding him away it was even harder for Jon to hide how much he was shivering.

“You-” Martin pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes. There was no helping it. He walked to the living room and motioned for Jon to follow. “I’ll make some tea.”

In spite of himself, Martin found it in him to fuss. He ushered Jon onto the couch and pulled the old blanket down from where it lay over the top just so it fell behind Jon, resisting the urge to pull it snug. At first Jon lifted a hand to wave him off, but as he sank further into the seat he let out a weary sigh and leaned forward onto his knees.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm. Be right back.”

Martin strode toward the kitchen in a way that he hoped didn’t look like bolting and escaped Jon’s line of sight.

A kettle. There was a kettle on the countertop. It was… technically not washed, not for a few days. Good. That gave him some time. He got to work, scrubbing at it much longer than necessary to settle his thoughts. As if there would ever be enough time for that.

So. Jon was on his couch after revealing himself to be one of the sea folk, looking cold and tired and very uncomfortable with the circumstances. That was all he had to work with, that and the cheap tea bags he tossed onto the countertop.

He’d gotten groceries for two. That would be the polite thing, to offer food.

If Jon intended to stay for more than an evening. This might be one rest stop on the path to elsewhere, land or sea. He certainly wasn’t packed for an overnight stay with that tiny bag he’d apparently managed to fit with him inside his coat, a train of thought Martin had no desire to follow. Maybe he’d even eaten… on the way? Hm, no, that wasn’t a great place, either. Whatever, he might not be looking for much more than a place to sit a while.

And then the tea was ready and poured out into two mugs, one with a pastoral scene of some sheep and the other a faded logo of a long-gone tackle shop. He’d run out of time.

The two mugs lent warmth to his hands as he walked back to the living room, catching himself before he tripped on his own feet. On the other side of the room, Jon had chosen to bundle himself up at one end of the couch, legs and all tucked into the blanket. It was all Martin could do to offer him the sheep mug without making eye contact and pray that the lamp light was too dim to reveal the red across his face.

Thankfully Jon didn’t seem to notice Martin’s awkward demeanor as he slipped his hands from under the blanket to curl his fingers around the mug. “Thank you, again. I’m sure you have questions.”

He would, wouldn’t he? He had several a moment ago, but unfortunately with all the heat emanating from his ears it seemed every question had risen right out of his head. Instead Martin sat on the other end of the couch. “You’d know better about where to start.”

From under the blanket Jon squared his shoulders. “Right. I don’t think there’s much to explain on this first point. I’m a selkie, or sea folk as you once said. I hope it explains the intensity of my… concern, regarding your mother.”

Martin squirmed a little. Jon's anger at the possibility of Martin holding one hostage took on a much more personal bent in hindsight. It must’ve been like a horror movie to find the skin there. “Yeah, I got that part.”

“As for my showing up here today, I…” Struggling somewhat with words, Jon took a sip of tea and gave a small noise of approval. “Okay, from the beginning. The day I’d finally finished with all of the extra work piled onto me, I’d settled on digging further into Elias’ connection with the Lukases. Possible overlap in goals, reasons for why the three of us were sent to this town, etcetera.”

He continued. “There wasn’t much. If I had to guess, it’s all largely in financial records that I have no access to, but I’d hoped that other strange happenings connected to the Lukases would explain something.”

“But they didn’t,” Martin said.

Sighing, Jon said, “No. So I changed direction and focused on Elias’ goals. If it wasn’t the lighthouse he wanted us to look at, then there were two options: either he just sent us out there to look at nothing, or he thought we would find something else of interest. Or that I might find something I’d been looking for.”

Martin’s heart could’ve stopped. “You don’t think-”

“He of course knew of my research into selkies. It’s the main reason I was eager for this position, all the resources he offered. I kept my more… personal motivation quiet, of course, stuck to how it was ‘underrepresented in our field’, which is entirely true and I could- anyway, I thought I was careful.” Quickly, he turned toward Martin as if he’d realized something. “And I was, with regards to you and your mother. I promise I never said anything about what I found. That secret isn’t going anywhere.” He rested the mug in his lap, tapping his fingertips on the white ceramic.

“But?”

“It appears I wasn’t doing a good enough job hiding myself. He always knew.” His mouth set into a grim line. “When we first got back I thought something was off about my flat, but the workload had gotten so high and there was so much to think about that I brushed it off.”

He gripped his knee through the blanket as it bounced with agitation. “I know someone came into my flat while I was gone. I know this because the day after your incident with Simon Fairchild it happened again, and this time he was sloppy.”

A tremor had crept into Jon’s voice, just enough to be heard, though it wasn’t for the cold or for fear exactly. Anger? Irritation?

“I was sent to check on something outside the city, not far but enough that I was able to get reimbursement for a night’s stay. It wasn’t the first time I’d been sent off without warning, obviously-” Jon motioned in the general direction of the town. “-but something was wrong. I could feel it, just like I could feel that someone had been in my flat.” At this point Jon stopped and leaned over to rub at his forehead, his shoulders rising and falling with long, deep breaths.

“Jon?” Martin said. He lifted his hand and then placed it on the back of the couch.

The tired man shook his head, “I’m fine. Just let me finish.”

“So I went back late that night. Didn’t tell anyone, didn’t cancel my hotel. And when I entered my flat, what did I see but a figure in the dark rifling through my things. A familiar one at that.” A sardonic edge snuck into his voice. “Never expected Elias to be the type to get his hands dirty in a work sense, let alone an illegal one.”

“There was a struggle. I rushed at him without thinking, and when pressed he eventually admitted to knowing what I was. I knew what he was looking for then, didn’t really need to ask, and so I… ran.”

Martin’s hand twitched, but he kept it in place. “That sounds… awful. I’m sorry.”

With a shaky inhale, Jon said, “I-I ended up staying with an old friend of mine for a few days, outside of town. When I initially got the job she’d agreed to keep my, um… my skin, while I was in the city. So Elias was never going to find it by looting around my things, on either attempt.” He smiled, eyes empty and humorless. “Paranoia pays off sometimes.”

“Sounds like you have a good friend, then,” Martin said, looking down at his barely-touched tea. “Why’d you leave?”

“Because three people and a cat take up a lot of space in a one-bedroom?” Jon replied with a small but genuine laugh. “My friend, Georgie, she lives with her girlfriend. Her girlfriend and I don’t get on at the best of times, and cohabitation while I’m a terrified mess is not the best of times. The cat didn’t seem to mind, though.”

“I figured the next safest place would be in the water, while traveling at least. I couldn’t take much with me, but I wouldn’t need much either. My main goal was to just stay hidden as best as I could.” He looked back at Martin sheepishly. “Which I hope is a good enough reason for my number being unavailable.”

Martin nearly dropped his tea. “What?”

“What?” Jon frowned, brows knit together in confusion. “Oh. Um, yes, I deactivated my account. Maybe a bit more precaution than necessary, but at that point I was too nervous to take any risks. Tossed my mobile as well.”

A horrid wave of guilt hit Martin right in the stomach. The number wasn’t reachable, which he’d have known if he’d just called. Stupid, of course Jon had a reason for not calling. How much more of an ass could he be, assuming things when Jon had his own worries to deal with? Not everything had to be about himself and his problems.

“Makes sense,” he said, hiding his own unhappy mouth behind the mug.

“Anyway, I left the land for… an amount of time. It was hard to keep track. And it’s still the wilderness, so it wasn’t safe. Eventually I decided being stuck surrounded by wild animals wasn’t going to help me and figured this was the best place to go next.” He leaned back. “I couldn’t exactly see Tim or Sasha for updates, though they know to pretend to trust Elias for now, thanks to Georgie. Once I see them in-person, it’ll be safer to explain why I’d disappeared on them.”

And in the meantime pretend that Jon was off to the side, too busy to bother with a group text. He might as well have been asleep the whole time with how obvious it all was. And there he’d been writing Jon off without evidence instead of feeling concern. Horrid.

Jon took a deep breath. Some of the tension slipped away from his forehead, smoothing the creases into faint lines.

“Had a harder time than expected finding this place considering the lighthouse looming over everything. I think I got turned around after losing sight of the coast and the fog certainly didn’t help. But things cleared up enough, and now I’m here.”

Martin withdrew his arm from atop the couch and leaned away into the arm rest. “And now you’re here.”

There in the present, they sat on their respective sides of the couch. Jon settled further back into the cushion, pressing both hands to his mug of tea and enjoying the warmth it brought to his skinny fingers.

The man needed to sleep. It was clear in his struggling eyes, his voice, his shoulders obscured by the blanket’s folds. How long had he been at it, swimming mile after mile until he found his way here? How much further was he planning to go?

“Are you okay?”

Martin started, ripping his eyes from Jon’s face. “Fine, yeah. Just, just taking it all in I guess.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s a lot. If you wouldn’t mind, though, I wanted to ask if anything else happened here since I left.”

Martin replied, “Not much. I delivered the letter for Simon a few weeks ago. Peter has been spotty ever since and has been on a boating trip for a few days.”

“The only way to avoid Fairchild, maybe. Until he goes out on his own yacht. Or flies there.”

Martin snorted and took another sip of tea.

“And nothing else has changed?”

In the grand scheme of things? “No. Not really.”

“Good. I’d worried about getting here- well-”

“Too late?” Martin said with a rougher edge than he’d intended, and he saw Jon flich. Quickly, he continued, “I’m fine. If anything you didn’t have to deal with weeks full of nothing like Tim and Sasha.”

It was Jon’s turn to snort. “That would’ve been preferable, I think. Being so out of the loop, not knowing what to expect when I managed to get back. It wasn’t pleasant.”

“So, what now?”

Jon chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I’m not entirely sure. There isn’t anywhere else for me to go now. But since you asked, there was something I’d been considering.”

Twisting in place, he faced Martin directly with a nervous expression. “Truth be told, I don’t know anyone else like me, not personally. The sea might as well be the woods or the mountains for all I know on how to navigate them. If anyone was going to be able to help me with my particular situation, I figured it would be-”

“My mum.” The words came out throttled.

The room shifted, the sides of his vision blurred until all he could see was the dead television. If he stared at that point long enough, he could almost see the burnt-in images of something he’d left on pause for too long.

From beside him, he heard the rustling of the blanket.

“I- yes, th-though if that’s too much trouble I understand. I would never want to make you or your mother’s lives harder by getting her involved with me. I know I’m a liability to her safety just coming here, but I’d at least wish to speak with her, ask if there’s anywhere or anyone she knows that could help if she herself is unwilling. She’s already asleep I assume, so I could wait until tomorrow-”

“She’s gone.”

His words cut through the air with a swiftness, the quiet settling in so deeply that he could almost hear tv static as his mind tried to fill the gap. With nothing to be heard and his vision so caught by the television, Jon might as well have vanished into thin air.

But he hadn’t. With something between wariness and disbelief, Jon muttered, “...Gone.”

“Four days ago.” Martin blinked away the tunnel, looking down at his own hands. “Took her skin and nothing else.”

“That’s… Did she say when she might come back?”

Without answering, Martin stood up and walked to the kitchen. When faced with Jon’s protestations he placed a hand up, signalling for the man to wait, and from the kitchen table plucked the unmoved note. Then, wordlessly, he handed it over to Jon and sat on his own end of the couch.

The note was short enough. “...That’s it?”

“Yeah. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“That’s- you don’t need to apologize to me. I imagine it’s been difficult.” A pause as Jon set the note on the side table, and then, “You did the right thing.”

Something pushed upwards in Martin’s throat, something bitter and harsh and awful, but he clenched his teeth and kept his tone even. “It’s for the best.”

“If there’s any… If you have any questions, I’ll do what I can to answer them.” As Jon spoke he was plainly starting to regret it. “But I suppose you would know her better.”

Martin frowned and said nothing.

“Right… right. Family business.” Jon drained the rest of his mug and then dragged his fingers down one cheek. “If you’re all right with it, I’d like to spend the night here and figure things out tomorrow, when I’m feeling more myself. I’ve sorely missed sleeping somewhere dry and horizontal.”

“You really slept that way with your face sticking out?” The image of a little seal head popping up out of the water fast asleep came to mind, a welcome distraction. He let himself smile a little and leaned a cheek into his knuckles. “You seem a bit drift-y, yeah.”

“I hope that’s not meant to be a pun. And sleeping in the water is difficult,” Jon replied, deadpan. “So I have permission to co-opt your couch?”

“Knock yourself out. I need to get to bed, anyway.” He pushed himself back up off the couch and grabbed both mugs. As he walked back to the kitchen, he looked back at Jon. “... She left her medication here. Does that mean anything?”

Jon shook his head. “She’ll be fine. She won’t need them unless she returns to a human form, according to my own, er, experimentation.”

Martin nodded and waved goodnight with one of his full hands, making his way back into the kitchen one final time to place the mugs in the sink. Every motion reminded him that he too was tired, so tired, so they would be washed another time along with the plate of whatever it was he’d made for himself. Had he offered Jon something to eat? No, but the man was capable of asking for things.

One thing had been helpful. He looked at the half-empty pill bottles that sat undisturbed on the counter and with one swift motion tossed them into the bin.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin

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cloverfics · 4 years ago

Text

birthday wishes ; keigo takami

warnings reader’s birthday, club setting, implied drinking, slight swearing, and flirty!hawks

genre modern au, suggestive ( ig )

word count 1.5k

inspiration my ✨ imagination ✨

synopsis with it being your birthday, you’re aware of the gifts you’ll get. but the last thing you expect is for a generous, handsome man to make your night

You blew out your candles as your friends hit the last notes to your happy birthday song. They cheered, a few taking pictures while the others had their flash right in your face for video memory.

“Our girl’s finally 21! How’s it feel, ___?” Your friend closest to you, Jasmine, nudged your shoulder.

You hummed. Taking the candles out of your cake. “I don’t feel any different. Just can say I drink at the legal age, I guess.” You sneered, garnering a slap on the shoulder from Jasmine.

Spending your 21st at a high priced club was certainly not your idea. You would’ve settled for shots and cake at your apartment but your friends shot down that idea before you could even finish. Settling for your local ( and go to ) bar was something you also would’ve been down to do. But, of course, they insisted you all needed to be at the best in your city for your birthday.

You appreciated it. Especially since they all collectively covered the table. But the lights and music were starting to get to you. You had done your fair share of dancing, fair share of drinking, fair share of talking. Now, you just wanted to go home and sleep off that drinking portion of the night.

“Don’t tell me you getting tired,” On the opposite side of the table, your other friend deadpanned. Having the rest follow with a chorus of complaints and whines.

You held your hands up in defense. “My head is spinning and I want to be in my warm bed. Is that too much to ask for?”

Another friend countered. “Yes when I spent my whole paycheck to cover part of the table, hoe.” You snorted at her response.

“Fine. I just need something to get me back into...” You were saying as you brought your glass of water to your lips. But as your gaze drifted acrossing the seating area, your eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones. Hazel eyes that belonged to a very handsome man. And for some reason that handsome man was staring at you.

If your glass had been any closer you’re sure you would’ve choked. But you just placed it down and quickly averted your view to your friend group.

“Are you alright?” Jasmine cocked an eyebrow at your sudden flustered appearance.

“Hot guy at 3 o’clock.” Your whispered through teeth. Jasmine eyes circled into saucers as she tried her best to be discreet.

“Oh blondie. He’s hot. He’s been watching you like a hawk ever since we got our table though.” She admitted nonchalantly before taking a sip from your drink.

Your jaw fell ajar. “And you didn’t care to tell me!” You whisper-shouted.

“I’m just suprised you haven’t noticed.” Jasmine laughed. You shook your head. Your curiousity took over you and you let your eyes flicker back to his table. Your chest fell in relief seeing as he was making conversation with a waiter.

But your anxiety levels rose again when said waiter was beelining for your table right after talking to hazel. The waiter had caught your whole table’s attention.

“Is something wrong?” One of your friends immediately inquired.

“Ah! No, Mister Keigo would like to know if he could take over the bill of this party.” You physically paused, along with your friends.

“Who?” The waiter answered your friend’s question with a point of his pen to where hazel or better yet, Mister Keigo, was seated in mid coversation with one of his tablemates.

You gulped. “He insisted?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Before you could refuse the offer, Jasmine cut in. “Tell him thank you!” Your eyes widened but none of your other friends seemed to argue.

“But—” her hand slapped over your mouth.

“Thank you.” She iterated.

The waiter nodded and made his way back towards Mister Keigo’s table. Your table sat in shock, similar looks on their faces.

“A hot guy paying for your table bill? He wants you.” Your friend opposite from you proclaimed. This time you actually choked. Your hand smacked Jasmine’s hand away from you.

“He does not!”

“He so does.” They all mused.

You scoffed, a slight pout on your face. “I feel bad.”

“Here you go,” Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Just accept the sweet offer, ___.”

“I am, but I feel like I need to thank him.” You glanced over to his table to where he was obviously signing something from the waiter. Most likely your bill.

Jasmine smacked her hand on your shoulder. “Then do that. While you’re at it see if he’ll take you home, I bet he wants some birthday cake if you catch my drift...”

Your friends laughed as you glared at Jasmine. “I will only be saying thank you then taking my leave.” You peeled her hand from your shoulder, shuffling from your seat at the booth.

“Don’t act like you don’t want him!” She called while you were already a couple feet from the table.

You didn’t, right? You tried to convince yourself that. You weren’t the type to do hook ups or sleep with strangers. But with every step you took closer to the V.I.P section, the pit in your stomach dug deeper. You knew his eyes were following you. It sent chills down your spine. But you continued to stride to the velvet rope and buffed security guy who held said rope.

“And you are?” He asked.

You stammered, opening your mouth while no words came from it. Your hope of thanking him started to slip but then a voice cut in.

“She’s with me, Vince.” You both simultaneously looked over to who it came from. And lo and behold, Mister Keigo in all his glory saving your ass from being booted from his section.

“You sure, Mister Keigo?” He strode over, clad in a sleek black suit, his sharp honey eyes fixated on your figure. You looked away, you barely knew him and he already had an effect on you.

“Now why would I ever lie, Vince?” His voice fit him so well. His tone that toed into teasing territory nearly made you shudder.

“Alright, lady.” You pursed your lips as the velvet rope was opened for you. Taking the opportunity to step past it and land in front of Mister Keigo.

Your eyes still fought for whether you should try to hold eye contact with him or just stare at the floor.

“Looking for me?” He asked. You squeezed your eyes shut, starting to heat up in embarrassment when you simply nodded.

His laughter is what had your eyes flicker up to meet his for the third time tonight. He basically towered you, he was intimidating. But something about him also made it clear that he was chill.

Maybe it was the way he spoke. Or just how you got a slither of the way he carries himself.

“Well?” He lifted an eyebrow, a smirk etched on his face.

“I-I just wanted to thank you for paying the bill, Mister-”

“Ah,” he interrupted you. “Call me Keigo, I don’t mind.”

“Really?” You thought back to what the waiter and security guard referred to him as.

He nodded, his blonde locks shifting a bit. “Completely fine with me.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I just wanted to thank you. There was no need, I appreciate it.” You finally got what you wanted to say out. Internally sighing in relief and victory.

Keigo smiled. “No problem. Just consider it a birthday gift from me, yea?”

“Ye-yea, of course.” You nodded. You didn’t know what to say. Here you were, talking to one of the prettiest guys you’ve ever seen, who had pay for your bill like it was nothing.

“No problem...” Keigo titled his head as he trailed off.

“Oh! It’s ___, call me ___.”

“___.” He hummed. “What a pretty name. It fits you perfectly, in my opinion.” The way he lifted his eyebrow nearly made your knees buckle underneath you.

“Ah, thank you. But are you sure there’s no way I can repay you?” It was out of your control how your tone automatically borderlined on lustful. His presence made you feel hot. And his mesmerizing gaze didn’t help.

Keigo smiled devilishly, leaning forward a bit, a few inches from your face. “Is there anything you had in mind, Miss ___?”

Your breath got caught in your throat. You could practically hear your friends squealing from the other side of the room.

“It would be up to you to pick wouldn’t it?” You tried to best to match his energy. But he was so smooth. Keigo laughed, it was deeper this time while there was this particular glint in his eyes.

“Is that so?” Having no rebuttle, you nodded again. Silently letting him win.

Keigo stood upstraight again. “Here,” he took a napkin from a nearby table. Quickly asking to borrow a pen from a passing waiter.

“We can discuss it over the phone, if that’s fine with you?”

Your eyes followed as he wrote his digits down, his name in nice print right above it. “Yea. That’s fine.” You answered like you were in some trance.

“Great. I’ll be looking forward to it.” He handed you the napkin. You took that as your signal to head back to your section.

“I’ll make sure not to lose this then...” You smiled, walking away slowly but surely. With another one of his entrancing smirks, you turned around. Releasing a deep sigh before reaching Vince. But before you could exit through that velvet rope.

Keigo’s voice hit your ears again.

“Oh! And happy birthday.”

#keigo takami #keigo x you #bnha x black reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha #boku no hero academia hawks #hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x black!reader #keigo takami x you #keigo takami x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you

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vinylhazza · 4 years ago

Note

ok so we all know that gray rushes/is eager about his relationships, but this time, what if the reader asks him to slow down or something? like she’s just getting started with her degree and she wants to slow down a bit, not rush into things, and eth agrees and gray is finally happy? also sorry if u aren’t taking concepts or requests lol

i feel like...low key....he needs this irl lol

this man doesn’t even have the phrase slow down in his vocabulary so when you say those words, the look of confusion that crossed over his face was to be expected. you knew you would have to spell it out for him, at least slightly. he gets in over his head with every relationship and wonders why they somehow fall apart so soon. some girls fall into that spell: the attractive guy wants me so it must be something real and true and they fall before they ever really form a strong bond, sliding to third base a time or two and tricking themselves into thinking it’s deeper than surface level lust.

but you, you are not the ‘kick it into high gear’ type of gal and you thought you made that pretty obvious from the start. grayson gets attached easily, we all know that. you take your days one at a time, scope out the pros and cons of every situation. and you know, yeah it might be a trauma response from the countless times people have fucked you over and made you out to be a fool from a very young age, but that same mindset has helped you dodge many bullets over the years.

his first initial infatuation—it’s no different with you, but you are how do you say—hyper aware of his intentions and motives. you’ve been screwed over, toyed with, used your fair share of times and the world be damned to hell if some buff fluffy brown haired boy with amber eyes and a smile that oozes light and happiness comes in treating you like you’re this...lost treasure and you just believe him. believe all of the pretty words, take his hand and follow him into the dark, blindly let yourself love someone again not be sure of what they expect out of the relationship. and damn you if you let him swoop in and carry you off like a princess from a tall tower. like he’s this knight in shining armor. you won’t be fooled by the cloud of attraction and get yourself in too deep before you’re completely on the same page with one another. and first things first; you aren’t someone that needs to be saved, and neither is he.

you understand the puppy love stage of relationships. it’s bound to happen: the subtle obsession with your partner, that new light fuzzy feeling you get thinking about them, thinking of what they might be doing when they’re not with you, if they are thinking about you too, listening to all the sappy love songs and suddenly all you can think about is the color of their eyes after they’ve laughed real hard, the dip in their brow when they are thinking for a long time, the electric feeling that zaps your skin when they touch you, the way their voice lowers two octaves when they lean over and whisper something sweet in your ear, it’s all there for grayson. you know you’re falling in deep, and maybe that’s what scares you. maybe it’s the way you are so willing to trust him early on that leads you to the conversation of slowing things down. for the protection of the both of you, it’s not one sided.

not only had grayson made you feel secure in the very beginning of the sudden relation you had started, but he kept consistent with his actions and words. something that was unusual and strange after dealing with men that never really grew up beyond 16. at the stage of your life you’re in, there isn’t any room for a childish game of tag with a boy who didn’t have any intentions of sticking around in the first place.

you worked hard for everything you had, you always have. your upbringing wasn’t one of sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns. you didn’t have it easy. it wasn’t something that you used to weazle your way out of situations, excuse your occasional bad behavior, but it was something you thought about when you did catch glimpse of your growing attraction to someone. especially grayson, who was...one of the nicest men you had ever met. charming really didn’t even cut it. but just starting on your degree...complicated things. made you really want to reiterate to him that your degree, it was important to you and you fought tooth and nail to be able to even touch a college textbook. you couldn’t be blinded by his charms and be distracted from your dreams. there were times where the world seemed dark and hopeless and with hard work and perseverance you climbed out of that hole, just to stand as the strong intelligent woman he was falling head over heels for. you didn’t get that way over night. and you sure as well weren’t going to screw up your studies because you found someone that maybe wanted to stay, maybe didn’t. if the two of you were to work out and keep developing that beautiful bond - you hoped it would be as a team, one with understanding and clarity.

in your past experience, once a man knows he’s got you hooked, that’s the green light to treat you how they’ve wanted to the entire time. their once soft caress turns possessive, trust turns to assumption and blame, dates grow less and less frequent, and are left to sit and wonder what you ever saw in the first place. tricked, manipulated, and heartbroken. it’s never been honesty, love, and acceptance first. it’s “i love you” and “i care” when their actions don’t support their claims. you promised that the next boy you catches your heartstrings and strums until you’ve fallen under their spell, you would know exactly what you’re falling for. that means taking it slow, knowing what makes grayson tick, what he hates, what he adores, what brings him peace and comfort, if he cries during chick flicks, what kind of person he wants to be remembered as, if he fears the unknown as much as you do, was makes him completely and totally happy, and what infuriates him the fastest of all, what hardships has he had to face alone, what haunts his mind in the dead of night where no one can hear him crying, and what thought makes him smile when he’s doing nothing in particular. for once, just this once, you’re heart longed to know more that what meets the eye. you wanted to know if your feelings were 3 demensional, encompassing the good and bad about grayson, or if you truly just loved the way he fucked you.

but most importantly, you wanted him to know you. know the things about you that most people didn’t have the pleasure of knowing, all while making your dreams come true.

you thought maybe it was a mistake reaching out to ethan in your time of dire need of a shoulder to lean on, but it ended up being just the conversation and pat on the back you needed. the right nudge from the right person to have you sitting down with the softest soul you’ve come to find. grayson wasn’t someone you wanted to hurt, and ethan reassuring you that by talking to him and making him slow down, it would save him from more heartache than anything.

“i think it’s going to mellow him out, actually,” ethan nods along with your words, picking at a stray strand on his pants.

he wants what’s best for his twin, which is the exact reason you wanted to have this conversation with him. you didn’t want to mess something up and be rash and childish before anything real really even started, “grayson doesn’t really do ‘slow’, so this will be good for him.”

“i just don’t want to hurt him you know? i don’t want to be another girl that leaves so suddenly when he gets a bit too much. i know those are special circumstances and he was desperate with the desire of finding that special connection...” a pause to catch your breath, nervous from the vulnerability you’re showing already, “but when i make a commitment, i keep it. i want him to know that. i just want him to be secure within his decision to want...whatever this is with me. i want to be able to know him enough that my feelings for him are justified. and vice versa...i don’t want him to think that because i want to slow down, means i want to stop.”

“he will understand more than you think. if there is one thing i know about him, it’s that he will bend over backwards to make something he wants work. if he really wants you like i know he does, he will slow it down and make sure that you are comfortable. sounds like he doesn’t have much choice.” and it’s nice hearing those words from someone you haven’t gotten the chance to grow all that close with yet. hell you’re not even that close with grayson yet. you’re in the beginning stages still, learning your way around life with him in it. independence has always been one of the things that made you, well, you - and Grayson must understand you need more time before moving forward.

“really?” your heavy sigh shows your nerves are shot from worrying about not just school, but about the many different outcomes of the talk you need to have with Grayson. it has to happen, but you’ve never been one for confrontation even if it’s ensuring a positive outcome for both parties.

another shrug with a kind smile from ethan warms your heart, “just talk to him. he’ll appreciate your honesty. most of the other girls got wigged out and dipped, it’s going to mean so much more that you are wanting to stick it out even if it’s going too fast for you right now.”

growing up in a family full of huggers really shows when you step forward to wrap your arms around his waist for a split second, appreciative that he listened to understand and actually help you.

“thank you e, i hope he doesn’t just think i’m trying to make excuses and leave.”

when you pull away he is smiling still, pleasantly surprised by your friendly hug. with a light squeeze to your shoulder and a soft sort of smirk playing on his lips, he gives you just the advice you needed.

“something i’ve learned being his twin; give him a little more credit.”

when you have that conversation that had you so nervous your stomach tossed and turned all day long, you make sure you’re chanting ethans words over in your head. breathe. it’ll be fine. he will understand. give him a little more credit. he really wants you. the words play like a song through your head as you wait for him to sit back down on the white floral sheet in the softest patch of grass in your backyard. water spills from the glass in his hand as he plops onto the ground in a heap of giggles, muttering “fuck” softly, trying (and failing of course) to wipe the water off of his light blue button up shirt. it’s a good color on him, and you’re momentarily distracted from how attractive he looks in the late afternoon sun.

when you first met grayson, he had stumbled upon you sitting all by yourself in a small park, book in hand, peach in the other, completely unsuspecting that you would catch his heart captive when you glanced up with a smile that just about made him pass out. you were still surprised months later that he had had the nerve to say a word to you, he looked ill with anxiety to even utter a word. it was a day you’d never forget - and you would try and remember that innocent look in his eye when you explain why you had planned this picnic in the first place. to talk, to listen, to understand.

you figure if you really want to have the conversation be as smooth as it can be for the both of you, you could take it back to the very start. a simple picnic, with a lot of hope for the future.

after the laughter fit falls down, it’s time to get to the root of the issue. you prepare yourself with a deep breath in, holding in for a few seconds with your eyes closed, then slowly releasing when you look back at the questioning raise of his eyebrows. when he cocks his head to the side, you know it’s now or never. if you don't say it now, you might regret it.

“I actually brought you here so that we could have a talk real quick,” you finally explain, making sure to maintain eye contact and drink in ever facial expression he may have - just so you know how to go forward.

“you know you can talk to me about anything, is something wrong?” He’s so soft with the way he talks, never suspecting anything like what he’s about to hear, and it almost hurts to know you’ll be disappointing him in some way.

“nothing is really wrong...i just think maybe...we should slow it down for a bit.”

“what do you mean? we just got here,” he chuckles, taking a sip of his water with a shake of his head. not understanding, his fingers fiddle with the fringe at the bottom of your sundress.

you continue without stopping, ignoring his joke and hopefully make him see you aren’t here to fool around, at least not entirely. it was a serious talk for once and you wanted him to respect what you had to say.

“-not go so fast we miss the exciting part of getting to know one another,” you carry on to a now confused, sorrowful looking grayson, finally understanding that you weren’t talking so much about the picnic - but the two of you as a whole.

“i still want this—still want you i mean. but i just...want us to be us for a bit and not worry so much about the next step and then the one after that and the one after that and-”

he holds his hand up to stop you, cutting you off while looking at the ground deep in thought. setting the water down slowly, he climbs back up to his feet. you watch him patiently while he treads through the clipped grass, knowing he’s trying hard not to overreact and over think. After what feels like eternity, he sits down with his hands hanging off his knees, picking at a blade of grass he’s ripped from the earth beneath him.

“have i pushed you?”

sweet boy, always trying to take blame.

with a small smile you shake your head, “you haven’t pushed me at all gray. I just want this to grow - want us to grow. i don’t want you getting in too deep before you’re sure you’re ready for all of the things i’m looking for in the future and likewise.”

another nod of understanding, he was listening close. his respect for you grow tenfold, you had the courage to not let your lust or even affection cloud your judgement and you were honest with him. something that grayson admired most from anyone he let into his life was honesty.

“i’m not very good with slow but i’m sure you’re probably right,” he laughs more at himself than anything, “i just get carried away. especially with a woman like you. how couldn’t i?”

always the flirt. and a good one at that. he always knew exactly what to say to get you blushing, which is exactly why you hide your face bashfully in your shoulder for a few moments before you could look back at him admiring you.

“I hope you know that this is different though, Y/n. I can’t exactly explain how, but you should know i’ve never felt this way for anyone no matter how many times i’ve tried to convince myself otherwise in the past out of...fear, shame, even guilt. it’s different. and because of that difference, i know i can’t be selfish with you.”

for once you’re grateful for your mothers voice at the back of your head nudging you to let your heart be open, because without that voice, you would never be sitting in the grass with a man that truly does want to respect your boundaries and looks at you like you’re made of exquisite glass. you wouldn’t have memorized the soft texture of his lips as you lean in to kiss him, or the feeling of his hand cupping your cheek. you wouldn’t know the sound of his relived sigh, or the giggle that breaks the kiss only a few seconds later. and you wouldn’t have the clarity that you so desperately craved.

if there is one thing you knew for sure it’s that he is telling the truth. his truth shows with the delicate placement of his hands, the soft caress of his thumb on your cheek, his fingers running through your hair, and all the other ways he shows his adoration for you every day that you wish to hold on to forever. you know that the waiting and slow pace will be worth it in the end and the slow burn will turn into the blazing fire that you can already tell shines in his eyes. your hesitation has nothing to do with him but a past you would explain in due time.

for now, you’d continue kissing him on the sheet that smelt faintly of laundry detergent, in the backyard of your quaint apartment on 26th and Broadway, with his hand in your hair, lips pressed gently against yours, and a whole heart full of hope for a long future of days just like this.

#asks #gray!concepts #grayson!concepts #fluff #grayson fluff

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mego42 · 4 years ago

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What are some of your favorite GG song Moments. ? Here are some of mine.

1. Easy ft lorde- OMG this soong is such a bop. it just fits the scene so well. HONESTLY one of my fav scenes. HE IS LIVING HIS BEST LIFE IN THIS SCENE. I LOVE CHAOTIC RIO

2. Wild heart by SPELLES.- THIS SONG IS SO HAUNTING just fits the vibe so well. SO ANGSTY

3. The most recent song. Used in that Brio moment. Idk what its called . I know that Beth is having the time of her life but that song is just HEAVY. The lyrics 🙏😭😭❤❤❤ such a pretty song fr 😔

omg anon i love this question nearly as much as i love your taste. YES!!!! to Easy (i too love tf out of personification of chaos rio), YES!!!!! to Wild Heart!!!! it’s SO HAUNTING and disorienting and PERFECT. and Y E S !!!!!!!!!!!!! to the most recent song (whole life by perfume genius). i am LIVING for the heavy ballad vibes, super agree it’s so pretty.

in no particular order, my top 5 music moments:

blanket me / hundred waters

1x09 - beth makes the calendar laying out her kids future in case something happens to her

i’ve already exposed myself as an absolute loon when it comes to this song and you can read the whole breakdown here

but tl;dr it’s a song about relying too much on a person and needing to break free and be independent but not in a toxic sort of way, more in a for personal growth and the best for everyone because co-dependence holds everyone back and i really, really, really love that in context of beth and her children, her learning to step back and not smother them but also not give so much of herself that she disappears entirely because that’s not good for them in the long run

basically it’s sort of a thesis statement for beth’s underlying s1 arc

plus it’s just like, heavy and haunting and absolutely gorgeous and not to be like, unreasonably pretentious, moves me and i love it

notable lyrics: You're my blanket, you're my skin / You're everything within / You're my guardian, I'm your sail / A boat in your harbor / Gone under, capsized and sinking / Blanket me, blanket me, blanket me, blanket me, blanket me

whole life / perfume genius

4x06 - beth looking for a place to hide the wire/hooking up with rio

the song is all about leaving behind the things weighing you down and moving into a brighter, more free future and i love love love how that plays with the duality of beth hiding the wire and securing her source of information for the secret service BUT ALSO marking this moment as a turning point for beth and rio because it absolutely is.

(like not just the fact that they’ve resumed a physical relationship but rio’s invited beth deeper into his world and we’re seeing beth crack on a level we really haven’t before)

this season is leaning SO HARD into duality and the tangled up truths and lies between them and i am absolutely UNHINGED over it

i also really love the like, passionate ballad nature of it juxtaposed over this twisted, extremely sexy moment (intercut with dean joyfully trying to seize hold of his new hobby only to be IMMEDIATELY denied)

there are just so many layers to it and i love all of them

notable lyrics: The mark where he left me / A clip on my wing / Oh, let it soften / I forgive everything

ocean rain / echo & the bunnymen

4x04 - the beth and jane/rio getting the drop on fitz montage

the whole theme of this song is two people tearing each other apart and destroying the bones of their former intimacy which like, hello subject matter aptitude and it’s told through this GLORIOUSLY dramatic hurricane at sea imagery with ships being dragged below the waves by the hurricanes the two people have called down on each other set to a gorgeous over the top orchestral score

on a yrical note, i love that the song is basically the same verse over and over (interspersed with the chorus, obvs) and the only change is me vs you when it comes to who brought the storm down on them

basically, if you were challenged to come up with a song that represented two peak dramatique heaux nightmare factories locked in a never ending game of deadly cat and mouse, you couldn’t top this.

i am ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED with the choice to pair it with a montage of beth finally pulling the trigger (with foresight and intent, shooting rio was p obvs a oh shit look what i did moment), a milestone rio’s been dragging her (down) towards since the beginning of s2 AND using him to do it, dragging him (down) into her mess (m ade all the more messy when you consider he was the target of it) (i just! love it! so! much!)

i want to live in johnathan leahy’s brain

notable lyrics: all at sea again / and now my[your] hurricanes have brought down this ocean rain / to bathe me again / my ship’s a-sail / can you hear it’s tender frame / screaming from beneath the waves / screaming from beneath the waves

el musgo / gabriel bruce

3x04 - rio watches beth make money

UGH GOD when that high hat and bass kicked in the first time i was like oh shit we are in for some DRAMA and sure enough we were as well as a more sexual montage than anything you’d find in actual porn.

idk, the fact that they chose this deep, dark, mournful about lost love to an elongated montage slow motion montage of rio watching beth make fake cash and deciding not to kill her for nearly killing him doEs stuFf to me

all i’m saying is johnathan leahy ships brio harder than any of us and is a more dramatique heaux than either of them, which are two really impressive feats to achieve

AND THEN!!! AND THEN!!!!! they CHOPPED THE SONG UP!!!!! so they were able to take advantage of the dawning drama of the opening bars BUT ALSO include the closing stanza about wearing the marks the subject of the song gave the singer like a scar where they took his heart from him and the INTENTIONALITY of that creative choice puts me on the FLOOR

LIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

notable lyrics: I'll wear this mark like a medal / But it's a scar / Where you took my heart from me

kimono hill / sophia kennedy

3x01 - rio leaves the hotel

honeslty, lowkey surprised this one made my top five. not because it isn’t a fabulous song deployed with johnathan leahy’s usual mastery, but bc i didn’t realize how much i loved it until making this list

i don’t really have like, a deep, lyrically rooted storytelling reason for loving it, i just think the way they used it in the show is Such A Vibe

the way the vibrating synthy tones and underlying organ kicks in while rio’s getting in the elevator has this beautiful held breath anticipatory quality to it that works SO WELL to set up the montage of rio strutting out back into his life while turner gets murdered (a scene i have some uh, complicated feelings about but setting those aside), and the bolands’ fresh start to the tune of bouncy drums and looping vocals

idk it’s such a shining note to end the first episode of a new season on, i remember feeling refreshed and super hype for what’s to come

notable lyrics: no lyrics, just the vibe of the opening bars

tl;dr i really, really, REALLY love how this show uses music. you can tell they put a lot of time and effort and thought into it and while i know the trajectory isn’t working for everyone, personally i love it. granted, as you can see from this list, i clearly love the shit out of a down tempo dramatic ballad, so. if you are more of a bangers and bops person, i would point you to @nickmillerscaulk’s inbox as she is a Certified Bangers Afficianado.

#i think about music and soundtracks an aggressively normal amount #there's an au version of me that's a music supervisor and she's living her best life #nbc good girls #gg soundtrack #moar music #shut up meg #anon

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mas-o-kissed · 4 years ago

Text

In the Magic

(Short hypnosis fantasy story)

Cinna had been experimenting with trance magic for only a few weeks, but already he was hooked.

Good for reaching a state where one could get brief glimpses of future possibilities, for remote viewing, and even, for those inclined toward necromancy, channeling the dead, trance magic was a relatively common practice among wizards. It was a useful vehicle for the mind to contact what would normally be out of reach. He’d read books on the subject, and in private he’d begun the practice of self-hypnosis.

What he hadn’t accounted for was how much he’d enjoyed it. Certainly, he had heard of those who found euphoria in entering trance, who loved the feeling of floating there on the precipice between waking and sleeping. A waking dream, some had called it, or focused dissociation for the more technical.

Cinna thought of it as being in the magic. Not simply using magic as he had for simple spells before, but being enveloped and encompassed by it, being held in the magic’s powerful hands and obeying as it guided him toward the intention he’d put into the spell. It was thrilling.

It was also a terrible inconvenience. Certainly, he could enjoy it as he liked while he practiced alone. But he needed this magic for a reason: to help guide him and his team when they were hired to go on quests.

Ianisse, a lively elf who was surprisingly skilled with an axe had already, more than once when the topic of Cinna’s training came up, patted him on the back and asked, “So, when are we going to get to see you do it?” To which Cinna had only looked down and laughed a little nervously. The thought of being seen in that state by his comrades made his stomach churn and his face flush. It wasn’t just the vulnerability he felt in trance, it was the fear that they would know how much he enjoyed it, and that they might have a low opinion of one with his proclivities.

He would concern himself with such matters later. At this moment, he was sitting on a bed in an inn, a room that he and Ianisse shared while in the village. Ianisse would be gone for another hour at least, and his other allies were sharing a room across the hall. He finally had a moment to practice. That was what he was doing, after all; just practicing, as any good wizard ought when learning a new skill.

He removed his new pendulum from its satchel, watching how the golden chain shined in the candlelight, the beautiful, iridescent gem dangling from its end with its multitude of colors seeming to twist and glow from within. “A dragon’s teardrop,” the shopkeeper had told him when he’d first laid eyes on it. “This is an advanced tool, for wizards who are highly skilled in staying focused through trance... are you sure? It can have a mind of its own.” The warning had concerned him, but... something in the back of his mind told him he needed to have it.

According to his books, it wasn’t a literal tear of a dragon, but the jewel’s name was an apt description. As he held it up, the colors swirled like flames, first a deep blue, then fading into a rich purple tone, dancing again into crimson. The longer he watched the gem, the more colors he found within, pulling his focus into the heart of it, drawing him deeper and deeper and...

He shook his head, looking away. He’d not even chosen which spell to try. Foolish, he thought, but he could see why jewels of this type were so prized among users of trance magic. They were conduits for the magic, easily able to draw the caster in with no effort, but they were hard to control. The realization that he’d been drawn in so easily made his heart beat faster, color coming to his cheeks. Even as the pendulum was covered by his hand, he felt the magic drawing him toward it.

Perhaps he didn’t need to focus on a particular spell, to try to do anything at all. He could simply let the magic carry him, bring him where it wanted him to go, even if that place was no where in particular. Even if that state was one of empty, mindless bliss.

No, he reminded himself, the key to trance magic was staying focused on one’s intention throughout the entire process.

But... would allowing himself to drift aimlessly really be so bad?

As he thought this over, he realized the pendulum was already dangling from his fingertips, already casting its multitude of colors across his eyes. But how will I know when to come up? He thought, What if Ianisse comes back?

But soon he found that it didn’t matter. As the lights danced in front of him, green then teal then blue, then a spritely pink, they drew his gaze deeper and deeper into the jewel. It was only a few moments before he fell deep into the trance.

That was how Ianisse found him, arm suspended in air as the pendulum hung loosely from his hand. Cinna was helplessly caught. “Cinna?” Ianisse called, but only a tiny part of Cinna was aware of his friend’s presence. In the candlelight Ianisse could see the pink blush on his cheeks, fluttering eyelids, his mouth hanging loosely open. A vulnerable state, indeed.

Ianisse passed a hand in front of Cinna’s eyes and Cinna blinked, his concentration slightly broken. “I... I.... Ian...” he said weakly, not taking his eyes off the pendulum.

Ianisse brought his face level with Cinna’s then clasped his hand over the jewel, finally blocking it from Cinna’s view. Cinna let go of the pendulum, and Ianisse tucked it into his pocket. Ianisse smiled as Cinna began to come back to awareness, moving his gaze from where the jewel had hung to Ianisse’s eyes. “Ianisse...” he said, voice still weak and slurred, “Sorry. I’m... I’m...” he trailed off, noticing the colors in Ianisse’s eyes, the orange flames of the candles dancing across his golden irises.

“Yes? What are you, Cinna?” Though a little concerned, he couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice as he watched his normally articulate, collected friend struggle to form sentences.

“I’m... awake.” Cinna’s eyes struggled to stay open.

“Are you sure?”

Cinna shook his head, trying to will himself out of the trance. A part of him was aware of what was happening, was very embarrassed that his friend had found him in such a state. But that part of him was locked away deep inside of him at the moment. The rest of him wanted to keep sinking.

Ianisse climbed onto the bed with him, pulling him into his arms. “My dear friend, what have you gotten yourself into?” He stroked Cinna’s hair, and Cinna closed his eyes as he felt warmth flowing into him. “And you’re always telling me I’m biting off more than I can chew...” he chuckled, his arms feeling their way down Cinna’s body. He pulled him into a laying position, still holding him gently but firmly. When his fingers found their way down to Cinna’s warm sex, Cinna let out a tired moan.

“Oh, sweet boy,” whispered Ianisse as he squeezed Cinna tighter, “sleep now.”

And he did, falling instantly into a deep and dreamless sleep as if on command.

Cinna awoke the next morning, his mind clear and rested. He turned in the bed to find Ianisse awake next to him, inspecting the dragon’s tear. The events of the night before came back to Cinna in a rush. Unsure of what to say or do, the words crashed out of him, “Oh, Ianisse! I didn’t mean for you to find me like that. I’m so very sorry. It won’t happen again. I... I...” he stopped when he realized Ianisse was smiling at him. He almost seemed to be holding back a laugh.

Ianisse said, “Well, that’s a shame. I’d like it if it happened again. I’d like it very much.” He lifted the pendulum so the jewel fell between his fingers, dangling from the golden chain. Cinna watched it, transfixed for a moment, before Ianisse put it back into his pocket.

“Oh...” said Cinna, understanding. Ianisse smiled, kissing his forehead.

In the kiss, he felt the magic.

#hypnosis #my writing #hypnokink #sorry if this isn’t very good I’m feeling out of it today lol

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

Text

falling feels like flying ['til the bone crush]

Someone should revoke her title.

They’re trying, Emma supposes. Inevitable death probably means people can’t call her savior anymore, but they shouldn’t call her that now and that’s almost entirely because of what an absolute and complete liar she is. Telling Killian she would have done the same after he admitted he didn’t get rid of the shears isn’t her most massive lie, although it might be her most ridiculous. And they both know it’s not true. She wouldn’t do the same thing, she has. More than once.

AN: That gif has nothing to do with the story! Here is approximately 3.5K where I once again force Emma and Killian to acknowledge their trauma. Not in the Underworld this time, though! So maybe we’re all evolving here. I blame this gif set, which I saw this morning and felt compelled to write something about. Maybe that evolution is also a lie, actually.

———

“I lied.” Killian hums, exhaustion clinging to the sound, and Emma understands that. Less so why she’s talking right now, but neither one of those words seemed particularly interested in preserving the quiet calm of this particular moment, and she’s never been a lightweight quite like this. In more ways than one, she supposes. Hazy thoughts drift through her brain, muddled as it is by buttered rum and the steady flicker of flames in the fireplace because naturally this is the sort of house that has multiple fireplaces, and she burrows her face closer.

To Killian’s chest.

Takes a deep breath, not quite slow, but maybe a little greedy, and they ordered both things. Pizza and Chinese, half-finished egg rolls and beheaded slices of cheese with extra peppers strewn across the coffee table because Emma always likes that extra bit of crust and Killian’s nothing if not a frustratingly endearing sort of pushover.

With her, especially.

She closes her eyes.

“I lied,” Emma repeats, “in the hospital, I mean. Wrong verb tense.” “You’re not making any sense at all, darling.”

Her nose must be cold — if the way Killian tenses as soon as it brushes his skin is any indication, but Emma knows it’s far more than that and far deeper than that and she might be the world’s biggest idiot. Looming death does that to a person, she supposes.

Breathing isn’t particularly easy. And that’s not only because she ate four pizza slices worth of crust. Still, using death as an excuse again seems like an emotional crutch and an unreasonable reason, her muddled mind capable of clinging to every single letter in that particular endearment. It might be her favorite.

She’s not sure she’s ever told him that.

Stupid, really.

“I told you that I get it; what you did today, and that part’s definitely true. But, uh, the rest of it. That I would have done the same thing? Total lie, right? I mean, I did it. That’s what happened.” Nothing. Just flickering flames and the quiet hum of a TV, neither one of them has been interested in actually watching all night. Emma doesn’t even know what channel they’re on. For all she knows, the remote’s in the kitchen.

She counts inhales. Tries to keep her exhales measured, most of her face still pressed into the collar of Killian’s shirt as it is. And it takes about five full seconds before his hand moves, starts tracing a calm line up her spine, following that path until he reaches the base of her neck and the goosebumps that have already exploded on her skin and oxygen is overrated anyway. Holding her breath as soon as his fingers card through the ends of hair is basically instinct at this point.

“Felt wrong to point that out at the time,” he mutters, “all things considered.” “Been kind of a long day.” “Reuniting with long-lost relatives will do that.” Scoffing is not the best reaction. Nothing about this is funny. Includes far too much death and dismay, and Emma’s gaze flickers up. Of its own accord and something much deeper, like the absolute refusal to accept a world where he does not exist.

Goddamn Captain Hook.

She loves him so much sometimes she thinks she’ll simply burst with the force of it all.

It’s a gross thought, honestly.

And they’ve already spent far too much time in the hospital today.

“Is he ok? Li—” Cutting herself off, Emma grits her teeth, but one side of Killian’s mouth is already tugging up, and the kiss that lands on her forehead is as soft as anything. Maybe bursting isn’t so bad, actually. So long as she can come up with another word for it. “God, that’s so weird.” Killian hums. “Indeed.” “Thoughts, feelings, et cetera?” “Vast. And none of them particularly pleasant.” “Seems fair. That sort of day, huh?” “Indeed.” They need more blankets. Need more things that are theirs in a collective sort of way, but that’s a dangerous and disingenuous train of thought, and Emma’s fingers twitch towards the fire. To ward off the sudden chill that’s settled between her shoulder blades, and it almost works, but it does absolutely nothing to help the sway of her stomach and the acid lingering in the back of her throat, threatening to burn far more than what these meager flames are able to do.

“Should have finished high school,” Emma mumbles, “then I could choose more accurate verb tenses from my inevitably vast vocabulary. Did. Have done. Would do again, several thousand times over.”

“That’s the future tense.” None of his words come with any kind of pointed emotion, but Emma hears it all the same. Can see the tightness that lingers in the corners of his mouth and the way he’s holding his shoulders, straight as a line, and some joke about rigging that she no intention of making, and the furrow between his brows makes every muscle in her chest twist. Ache too, for good measure.

With the promise of everything she wants to say and everything she hasn’t or can’t and—

Fuck magic, quite honestly. And the rules no one’s bothered to mention until now. Seems like poor planning on everybody’s part.

“You heard me.” “I did,” Killian agrees lightly, and his hand has never actually stopped moving. It’s nice. Steady. Something Emma can almost nearly time her breathing too. “I would also choose that particular tense. If given the choice, that is.” “Do you not think you have that?” “I don’t particularly enjoy the thought. I’m rather partial to the option of whim, you see. Pirate and all that. We don’t much abide by schedules and fated decision.” “Seems like it’d be in the by-laws.” “Well, by-laws by their very nature are rather contradictory to the entire pirate notion, but you’ve got the gist of it at least.” Emma laughs. Doesn’t quite regret the sound, even as out of place as it is — just presses it into the edge of Killian’s shirt and the buttons he never bothers to do, trying to brandh the smell of him and the feel of him into every corner of her memory and she’s not really sure what happens after. Once the prophecy is fulfilled, and all that.

She’s got too much unfinished business.

To totally leave this particular plane of reality.

She doesn’t mention that either. Not when the crux of that business is breathing steadily under her hand, and Emma can’t remember when she moved her hand, only that Killian’s warm under her touch, and he’s always so much warmer. Than just about anything else she’s aware of.

“I thought you were dead.”

Of all the things Emma expects to happen in the midst of this night and this moment — and it’s really not a very long list, admittedly — that did not even make the cut. Wasn’t a consideration or a fledgling idea in the back of her mind, several different vertebrae almost audibly objecting when she jerks her head up. To find Killian staring straight ahead, lips not much more than a thin line across his face.

Seriously, the rigging jokes almost write themselves. Which is more than Emma can say about her clearly piece of shit list, as metaphorical as it might be.

“I don’t—” “—When I saw you,” Killian interrupts, and none of the words shake. Come out like a stream of consciousness and memories neither one of them have able to shake yet. Or talk about. Can’t possibly be healthy. “Chained to that stone, blood dripping into my mouth, and then all of a sudden, there you were. Worried I’d simply dreamt you up, couldn’t imagine how you looked quite that lovely in that hell hole, otherwise.” “Oh, that’s kind of insulting, actually.” “Hair like the bloody sun.” “Better,” Emma murmurs. Reaching up, her fingers tangle with the charms around his neck. Pieces of luck and trinkets she hasn’t learned all the stories to yet. The idea that she won’t makes her nauseous. “You told me ‘you shouldn’t be here.’” “Aye, and I meant it.” “Because you thought…” “Living people don’t often appear in such a God awful place, do they? Not without something tragic happening, and my mind was impressively efficient on that front.” “Which one is that?” “Every threat that’s ever lingered, every person I would have gladly run through if it meant you were safe. Half of goddamn Camelot.” Emma might snicker. Killian’s arm tightens, though. And that’s all she’s really worried about. “I think I could have taken Arthur. Y’know if it had come to that.” “Likely not a very good swordsman,” Killian nods, but that’s only so his lips can trace Emma’s temple and the top of her hair. More than once. Like he’s still making sure. “Pampered prince—” “—He was totally a king, babe. That’s like...the most basic Camelot knowledge.” “Ask me in five minutes if I care at all about anything to do with Camelot.” “Should I time it, or…” He scoffs. Presses another half dozen kisses to any spot he can reach, and he can actually reach a fair amount of places. Emma’s impressed. Swooning too, but also pretty impressed. “I kept thinking about you,” Killian says, softer than the last few words have been, and it sounds like an admission and another promise, and it’s weird that it can be both. At the same time. “This house. What it was and wasn’t. All those possible verb tenses.”

“I’m sorry.” “Ah, that’s not your fault, love. None of this is, really, but—well, it did make it so seeing you, realizing you were there...left all of those thoughts crashing down around my ears, so to speak. Falling apart, like an avalanche of what hadn’t been and what I still wanted so desperately. No matter what Hades did.” “Stupid stubborn.” “I believe there’s something about a pot and a kettle in this realm.” “Don’t have that cliche in the Enchanted Forest, huh?” “Not that I’m aware of, no.” “Maybe you just didn’t go to a good college.” “Tell me every Greek word you know,” Killian challenges, and Emma rolls her eyes. Ignores the first few flutters of a headache brewing at the base of her skull. “It didn’t seem fair.” “Which part?” “All of it is also rather vast, but mostly that if you were there, then it happened again.” Narrowing her eyes, Emma tries to piece together those letters and the syllables they make, only to be marginally annoyed when she can’t make sense of them. Killian kisses the bridge of her nose.

She might have to go get Tylenol soon.

“Losing you without fighting, without challenge the goddamn reaper myself, was worse than anything He could have done,” Killian continues, and he doesn’t have to be more specific. “Worse than whatever pain I’ve ever suffered. Cut off twenty more limbs; it wouldn’t even come close.” “Do you have that many?” “Your humor lacks a little something; you know that, Swan?” “It’s a defense mechanism.” He noses at her hair. Drags the soft hum of what could very well be either an agreement or the opposite, or maybe even the sort of deep-rooted understanding that’s allowed him to sneak his way into the center of everything, across her skin. The specifics don’t matter, only that Emma’s magic roars under her skin, an inferno, and a symphony, meeting the challenge that no one has really laid down yet.

“Do that again,” Killian mutters, a low chuckle as Emma’s scratches at his side.

“I’m not sure I can, honestly.” “Pity.” “Something like that, yeah. And you’re not totally right, you know?” “Ah, and that’s almost rude.” “I’m serious,” Emma says, “that’s—none of that was your fault either.” Tilting his head only ensures that several strands of hair he still hasn’t bothered to cut fall almost artfully across his forehead, and Emma is grateful to a variety of gods, Greek or otherwise, that Killian doesn’t mention how much her hand shakes. When she tries to brushes them away. His hook finds her wrist instead, cool metal against freezing cold skin, and the state of her tongue is going to be a problem. Large as it is in Emma’s mouth, making it all but impossible to properly swallow while Killian’s lips sweep the bend of her knuckles.

“Charmer.” “Aye, that’s my endgame.” There’s not enough room between them for him to run his hand across his face like Emma knows he wants to, and part of that isn’t really a bad thing, but the rest just seems like another entirely unfair thing, and Emma knows the rest is coming. Makes tears burn her eyes all the same. “They were just...gone, you understand? No chance to do anything about it. One moment they were living and breathing. Then Liam was dead. Slumped in my arms in the corner of a cabin he was supposed to spend the rest of his career in. He—he would have been a very good captain.” “So are you,” Emma says, fierce and determined, and Killian kisses in the inside of her palm. She’s moved her hand again. To cup his cheek.

“For a time, maybe. But then she was gone too, and I thought I could feel it, you know. The exact way her heart crumbled in his hand, tiny bits of dust that I never wanted to blow off the deck. Like some of her still managed to stay. Is that—” The muscles in his throat move, jaw clenching, and Emma has to blink. She hopes the moisture on her cheeks isn’t tears. She’s not sure what’s a better option, really. “Must sound daft.” “No. I—I get that too.” “Do you?” “Not the only one who’s watched Rumplestilskin hold the heart of someone you loved.”

He can’t be holding his breath. His chest is moving much too quickly, but the burst of air that all but flies out of Killian is enough to ruffle the ends of Emma’s hair and possibly even dry some of the tears she’s still refusing to acknowledge, and she can’t get closer to him.

She makes an admirable effort all the same.

Like occupying the same few inches of space will ensure that she stays there.

“Did you—” Killian starts, looking almost pained as the words war for his voice on the tip of his tongue. “Did you like her?” That didn’t make the list, either. It’s entirely possible that Emma is just garbage at making lists. She nods. “Anyone who loves you as much as I do is fine with me. Better than, even.”

His expression shifts again. Light lingers in his gaze, cautious hope, and misplaced optimism, gears whirring in his head that Emma can’t almost convince herself she hears. Her verb tense was on purpose that time.

That’s a confidence boost, all things considered.

“She was something fierce,” Killian says, sounding reminiscent and not as sad as Emma has worried he must be. “Once she got away from him. Could get a grown man to do her bidding with a single look, the kind of glare that’d set you on fire from the inside out. It was—they loved her too. Men on the ship, would have followed her to the ends of the Earth if she’d asked. Probably even if she hadn’t.”

His next inhale becomes an exhale almost immediately.

“She never would have asked,” Killian adds, almost entirely to himself, but then his eyes are back on Emma, and they’re a little glossy and just as blue and she’s holding her breath now. “She liked you too, I know it.” “I think she thought I was crazy, actually. Gold didn’t really have much tact in the...introductions.” “Ah.” “Right?” “Right,” he echoes, a pale imitation of her voice that makes Emma’s cheeks ache. From smiling. Legitimately smiling. Huh. “But I suppose that’s part of it, though. She was there again, and I—” “—I’m sorry. For...for all of it.” “Still not your fault, love.”

“How did you know?” she asks, and her voice doesn’t sound much like her either. Wobbles and warbles and some other word that fits the alliteration. “About me. And not being…”

“Dead?” Killian’s eyebrows jump. “Strawberries.” “Excuse me?” “That soap you use in your hair. Smells like strawberries, or strawberry adjacent maybe. Manufactured just a bit. I think it’s my favorite smell in the world.” “Backhanded compliment.” “No, no,” Killian shakes his head. His hair moves again. “It’s not. It’s—well, it’s you, love. Smells like everything that you are and—”

“—I’m manufactured?” “If you let me finish,” he chides, and Emma all but yanks her lips behind her teeth, “It smells like home. Smells like falling asleep next to you and a distinct lack of blankets.” He nips at the tip of her nose. She scoffs again; that’s why. “And your distractingly cold feet, and leather jackets, and how the smell clings to the collars, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve worn them. Lingers on your pillow too, and the fronts of my shirt. You fall asleep against me quite often, you know that.” “Can sleep anywhere,” Emma reasons. “Might be my greatest talent.” “I don’t know about that.” “If I call you charmer again, will you hold it against me for lack of synonyms?” “Tell me how charming I am again.” Emma scrunches her nose. “Now it sounds like my dad.” “Let’s leave the prince out of this. He’s only a prince, aye?” “Far as I know, yeah.” “Good, good. Strawberries, love. Touching you helped too, though. If we’re being frank.” “Anything except blunt force honesty seems silly now, doesn’t it?” Killian nods. Slow and measured, like anything else will snap this tenuous peace, and maybe they can just sleep on the couch. Getting up is an impossible prospect right now. Maybe they can make out a little before they fall asleep.

“It’s a very big house,” Emma whispers, and they should really figure out a schedule for conversations like this. Talking about it all at once is exhausting.

“It is.” “You don’t want to expand upon that?” “Oh, I want a great number of things I shouldn’t,” Killian admits, “but as much as I appreciate this fresh round of honesty we’re engaging in, the false hope would—” “—There’s no such thing,” Emma interrupts. “False hope. It’s an oxymoron, ask my mother. And I think you should get some sort of crew again.” “How would you suggest I populate such a thing?” She shrugs. Nearly hits Killian in the chin in the process. “Untold stories. Dwarves.” “I will not have dwarves on my ship.” “See, I knew you’d have opinions. And there was a possessive pronoun in there that time.” “Was there not before?” “No,” she says. “Just called it the ship. Like it’s not the most important thing you have.” “Well, it’s not.” Emma’s cheeks warm. “That was very smooth.” “Someone did guarantee I was a very good captain earlier.” Space continues to be relatively minimal between them, but Killian’s nothing if not adaptable, and he works with what he’s got. Swinging Emma’s legs perpendicular over his, she’s nearly sitting on his lap, an arm slung over his shoulders, which makes it even easier to get her fingers into his hair and his head to rest against hers, and he takes another deep breath. “I know you understand, Emma,” he says, soft and serious, and she doesn’t bother doing anything except cling to him. With everything she’s got left. “All of it, from the very start. So I don’t think I’ll apologize, actually. For what I’ve done, or what I’d still be willing to do. I won’t give up on you, do you understand me?” “Didn’t,” Emma says, only a little optimistic that’s the right verb tense. Maybe she can get her GED, or something. Before all of this ends. “In Camelot, or after. Accept or acknowledge, and I probably would have—”

Announcing that killing Gold for what he’d done to Killian regularly crossed her mind in the twenty-four hours or so before they finally made it to the Underworld doesn’t really have the right sentiment for this conversation. Far too violent, and just as honest.

She’d consider killing him now, too.

For everything he’s doing, and everything he hasn’t, and she should have shoved him in that river.

Killian doesn’t smile. At least not in a way that reaches his eyes, the same ones that are looking at Emma again, all blue and earnest, and his shoulders shift. When her fingers graze his chin, more than stubble there because, she imagines, spending a day or so underwater with a sibling he only sort of wants and kind of knows doesn’t leave much time for facial-type grooming.

It’s a good look, though.

Most of them are, in Emma’s experience.

“This entire time,” she continues, “you haven’t given up on me yet.” “Works both ways, darling.” “That one crosses realms, huh?” “Pick up things spending so much time with you.” There’s nothing extra in the words. No sap-filled sentiment or promises she’s only a little hopeful will become actions. And they haven’t talked about the rest; might not even have time, but Emma will let herself think about all these empty rooms anyway, of the exact shade Killian’s eyes go when he stands at the helm, and she hopes he doesn’t cut his hair. Not yet, at least. Longer strands make it easier to touch him, to leave a lasting mark, and settle into his center the same way he’s taken root in hers.

They fall asleep on the couch.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #laura writes canon #force characters to talk 2k4ever #also remember when i wanted to write about killian not getting to see milah in the underworld?#have some of that here too #just for fun

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backtothestart02 · 4 years ago

Text

Yoga Pants and Gray Sweatpants - 1/1 | grandice fanfiction

A/N: Soooo, I’ve decided to make a grandice fics series about them dating secretly while filming Flash. Idk what my next one will be, but this takes place after the previous one. Enjoy!

Inspired by convos I’ve shared with @jennlee44 & @smileyscorner04. Thanks, ladies!

...

Synopsis: Grant and Candice are not so good at breaking up.

...

There had been a leak.

Paparazzi had gotten some particularly intimate-looking photos of Grant and Candice onset. While they weren’t doing anything more than laughing and standing close to each other in most, there were a few where they were holding hands and their faces were particularly close.

The internet went wild while speculation.

No one had reached out to either of their agents yet, but Candice figured it was only a matter of time. This thing she had going with Grant had become too obvious. She broke it off, and no matter how hard Grant protested, she refused to go back on her decision.

She and Grant were done.

A week later Grant sat in his trailer, trying to memorize his lines, knowing that even if he did there was no way his acting would portray it properly. The break-up with Candice had started to affect his performance when the cameras were rolling, which had been Candice’s biggest fear from the beginning. He knew it only solidified her decision to break things off. If they got back together and broke up for real, because of an actual blow-up, their chemistry onset would never recover. At least with this it was something he just needed to force himself to get over and then everything would be fine.

But that was just it. He couldn’t ‘get over it’.

What had started as something mostly physical had grown quickly into something much deeper.

Grant wouldn’t say he was in love. He wasn’t that far gone. But he was definitely falling, and he wasn’t a fan of this new arrangement at all.

Unable to focus on his lines, he decided to go for a walk. After slipping on his shoes and a light jacket, he pushed open the door of his trailer only to find the object of his affection and anguish walking past wearing work-out clothes, particularly yoga pants.

He nearly fell out of his trailer.

“Candice!” he called, taking the steps carefully before closing the door behind him. “Wait up.”

She looked over her shoulder, and he had to force himself to look up from that delectable ass of hers, accentuated in those pants, to those deep, brown eyes that he nearly found himself drowning in.

“Grant,” she said, almost coldly.

He stopped dead in his tracks, wondering if he’d done something wrong. Had she caught him checking her out? Was this just how she was going to interact with him now that they were broken up? That didn’t seem fair. They could still be friends.

“Wh-Where are you going?” he asked, skipping over to her in two easy bounds.

“The gym,” she said, as if it was obvious. He supposed it was. “You?”

“I was going to go for a walk,” he said.

“Mm.” She nodded once.

“I could join you,” he suggested softly, leaning in a little closer.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said, tone clipped.

He frowned. “Why not? We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“We’re exes, Grant,” she said, determined not to look at him. “Exes are not friends.”

He stopped suddenly, but she kept walking. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach.

Exes are not friends.

Well, hell.

…

Two days later, Grant and Candice, along with the crew and the director were all on set, and Candice thought she was going to die. She’d been avoiding Grant like the plague, ever since she’d broken things off with him. She hadn’t been cold to him since she’d met him. He was just so fun to be around, and she fed off that energy without even meaning to. It was what had drawn them together. He fed off her contagious energy too.

But she had to put a stop to that before any more rumors spread. For all she knew, their magnetic energy had been reported to the media by one of the crew eager for their 15 minutes of fame.

She knew it was affecting Grant’s performance though, and she felt bad about that. In the time she’d known him, she’d come to the realization very quickly that he had a difficult time separating what Barry was going through and what he was going through personally. Barry having such strong feelings for Iris, for example, had amplified his own feelings for her – Candice.

Now that they were broken up, she could see the struggle in him to light up as Barry around her as Iris when in reality she kept pushing him further and further away.

She couldn’t help it!

She was as upset over the break-up as he was. There was nothing more in life she wanted than to take it back and pick up where they’d left off. There were so many places they hadn’t hooked up yet. It had only been a week and a half, but she was already feeling sex-deprived. Specifically with Grant. She was feeling Grant sex-deprived, like she was in withdrawal.

But more than that, his magnetic energy, his smile, those gorgeous green eyes, and how he could just pick her up as if she was light as a feather, how he just understood her as no one else did, how they almost had their own language because they were just that in tune with each other.

She was falling for him.

That wasn’t going to stop whether they were broken up or not, and she hated it.

She hadn’t put on yoga pants the other day hoping to lure him out of his trailer. She’d legitimately intended on going to the gym to work out. Though more to work out her frustrations on not being able to work Grant out instead than actually maintaining her figure and staying healthy.

In fact, the reason her tone had been so clipped with him was in fact because she worried if they were in the same space for too long when they weren’t filming that she’d throw everything to the wind and seduce him right there in the gym.

She bit for bottom lip just thinking about it, and tried not to moan. The on-site gym was one of the many places they hadn’t hooked up yet. Ironically, there were no cameras in there. It would be the perfect spot on top one of those treadmills or bicycles…or in the locker room shower.

She shook her head, ridding herself of that thought.

This was crazy!

She’d been celibate for months. Surely she could handle being celibate again. She could even go out and have a one-night stand if she wished. She was sure there were plenty of guys that-

Stop it.

You are not a one-night stand kind of woman.

And you want Grant, plain and simple.

She sighed and looked back at her script. Grant was across the room rehearsing his own lines quietly to himself. She’d memorized hers already, but there was no harm going over them again. Especially when the alternative was to not check Grant out when wardrobe had given him gray sweatpants to wear.

Damn it.

He was walking after her in the scene. She was supposed to be mad, pissed off. And her current mood definitely helped her performance when the cameras were rolling, she decided. But sexual frustration ebbed off of her in waves, and she wondered if maybe that wasn’t what the director was going for with Iris in this particular scene.

Still, what was she supposed to do?

Grant’s cock moved so effortlessly beneath those pants when he walked. It was just a reminder of what they’d had and could still have if only she’d take back breaking things off.

But she couldn’t do that.

No one could know about them, and the most effective way to do that was to not be together at all. Soon any speculation of them being an item would be gone, and then maybe – maybe – she could think about being friends again.

“I need a break,” she announced to the crew and director.

Grant looked up from his script curiously.

The director frowned.

“We haven’t even started filming, Candice.”

“Well…I need a few extra minutes to get ready.”

His brows furrowed suspiciously, but he nodded.

“Ten minutes. Then we start.”

She dropped her script on her chair and made a quick exit for the lounge via the long hallway. She spotted Carlos inside and felt relief. She could relax with him, get Grant off her mind and then be ready to film in the 10 minutes that had been allotted to her.

“Candi-” Carlos started, and was immediately cut off.

“Candice.”

Carlos pursed his lips as Candice turned around and found Grant staring at her from just inside the doorway.

“Grant.” Her eyebrows narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

Carlos downed the rest of his coffee and threw his cup in the trash.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” he muttered, shutting the door to the lounge behind him as he left.

The implication was obvious. He thought the two of them were going to have sex.

That irritated Candice more than she cared to admit, because how could he even think that? The whole cast and crew was well aware of how they weren’t sleeping together. Their unresolved sexual tension could be felt a mile away.

“What?” she asked, crossing her arms beneath her breasts, enhancing her cleavage the slightest bit.

She could see Grant fighting with himself to not look.

“I think we should get back together.”

She scoffed. “Of course you do.”

“It’s affecting my work! Yours too.”

“It’s not affecting my work. I’m a professional. You’re-”

“I’m what?” he dared her to say.

“You’re too attached to your character.”

“I’m not attached enough right now or I’d be able to channel Barry without memories of us fucking flooding my brain at every minute.”

She swallowed and her eyes lowered briefly to his crotch, nearly gasping when she thought she saw…

Did his cock just twitch?

She lifted her eyes to his again.

“That is not my fault.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.” Her eyes narrowed.

He took a step towards her, and she tensed.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Grant-”

“All the time. When I’m awake, when I’m asleep…” He sighed, running his hand through his hair in frustration, as he often portrayed Barry doing. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She swallowed her gasp just before it emerged past her lips. It took her a few seconds to compose herself.

“You think that-”

“I know it.” He took her hands in his own, holding them tightly when she tried pulling them away.

She refused to look at him, though her heart was beating rapidly inside her chest.

“You haven’t had sex in a week and a half. You’re acting like a hormonal teenager, thinking this is more than it is when it’s not. For God’s sake, our careers are on the line here. Why can’t you just-”

“Candice.”

She tipped her head to look up into his eyes.

“Are you falling in love with me too?”

Her heart leapt into her throat.

“I…” Tears formed in her eyes, so she quickly shut them and shook her head. “No, there’s no way. I’m just…sexually frustrated.”

She gasped, realizing she’d said the words out loud and completely mortified.

“Shit,” she mumbled under her breath.

Grant smiled slowly, and she knew there was no going back.

“I can help with that too.”

“Grant, no- No, you can’t-can’t do that.”

She was backing up, but he pulled her back to him before she could get far.

“Relax, Candeez, I promise to make it good for you.”

And in that moment chills ran up her spine, and she melted. His lips came down on hers, and she moaned into the kiss. She jumped up into his arms when she felt his hands on her ass, and he squeezed her cheeks as he backed up slowly against the counter.

Kissing madly, he spun them around so she was sitting on the smooth granite and lifted her shirt up over her head, quickly unlatching her bra from behind her back. Candice shoved his pants and underwear down in one, swift move and immediately wrapped her hand around his shaft.

He groaned and dropped his head onto her shoulder.

“Candice.”

“Those damn sweatpants have been driving me out of my mind,” she muttered as she continued to pump him. “Do you know how clearly you can see your cock moving in them when you walk or get up?”

He chuckled darkly.

“I know. I requested them.”

“Bastard.”

“You don’t mean that.” He smirked, tipping her head up.

“No, I really do.”

He kissed her.

“I also mean this.”

She released his cock and yanked him closer.

“Fuck me.”

His green eyes turned dark, as he roughly yanked her pants and underwear down to a puddle on the floor.

“With pleasure.”

…

Fifteen minutes later, Grant and Candice came strolling back onto set. The director took one look at them and called for hair and make-up to come over.

“You good now, Candice?” he asked.

Grant quietly smirked to himself.

“Better than ever,” she said brightly.

After hair and make-up had finished and scattered, Grant and Candice took their places and waited for the director to call ‘action’.

As luck would have it, they only needed one take.

...

*will post on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

#grandice #grandice fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #yoga pants and gray sweatpants #one-shot #nsfw-ish

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geralehane · 4 years ago

Photo

who are you wearing?

a concept: an old lady in an old shop selling old costumes for halloween. nothing out of ordinary. except this shop most certainly wasn’t there yesterday, and the lady keeps giggling to herself, and the costumes have a minor peculiarity to them. hint: they transform their wearers into a more real version of that costume. of course they do.

and of course, clarke and lexa have no idea.

READ ON AO3

patreon | ko-fi

“I will never understand your obsession with Halloween,” is the first thing Lexa announces when Clarke walks inside their favorite coffee shop near their campus. “But what baffles me even more is the fact that despite your ridiculous obsession with it, you still don’t have a costume.”

“You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?”

Lexa’s green eyes widen with indignation. “That’s the whole reason you called me here,” she points out, and Clarke groans, plopping onto a chair next to her. This is a disaster.

“This is a disaster! I will never find a costume. Halloween is today. What do I do?”

“Again,” Lexa says. “We’ve been over this. I meet you here, we get coffee, we go costume-hunting. Clarke,” she searches blue eyes, her gaze concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Clarke sighs and blows blonde hair from her eyes, propping her cheek up with her hand. “Yeah,” she sighs distractedly. “More or less. This semester is kicking my ass. And I’m pretty sure I failed my psych midterm.”

“Well.” Lexa bends her head down a little so she can catch Clarke’s eyes. When she does, she gives her a small smile and gently pushes hot chocolate towards her, gaze softening when Clarke grumpily takes it and peeks under the cup lid. Her smile only grows when Clarke lights up at having found two marshmallows she was hoping for. “That explains you not having a costume this year.”

“Here you go with bringing that up again.”

“Come on, Clarke.” She looks up at the smile in Lexa’s voice. Green eyes watch her, adoring and warm, and she feels some of her bad mood evaporate. It’s hard to stay upset when you have someone look at you like that.

Too bad that someone only goes as far as simply looking. Clarke sighs again, this time for a whole other reason that, unbeknownst to Lexa, has nothing to do with Halloween and everything to do with her.

She was really looking forward to tonight. Ever since Lexa’s kissed her at the beginning of their sophomore year, she’s been mulling some things over. Things like her recent break-up with Finn and her level of readiness for new relationships.

(And also things like Lexa looking really hot in tank tops.)

Anyway, her thinking resulted in some interesting conclusions and revelations that at first she wasn’t really ready to share with Lexa. But over the course of these two months, she’s been slowly opening herself up to the possibility of accepting Lexa’s offer that the other girl wordlessly left at the table, Clarke’s for the taking. She only hopes it doesn’t have an expiration date.

She also really, really hopes it’s still there to begin with. Or else she’ll look all kinds of stupid kissing Lexa tonight.

Doesn’t matter, though. She’ll look stupid anyway. Because she doesn’t have a costume.

Clarke groans and lets her head fall on her folded arms on the table. She half-sits, half-lays there, unmoving, not phased in the slightest when Lexa starts to carefully poke at her.

“Clarke,” Lexa says again, fond exasperation coloring her voice. “We’ll find you a costume. It won’t be a very good costume, but it’ll be something.”

“Thanks,” Clarke deadpans into her arm. “You ever think about becoming a motivational speaker? Could be a decent source of income if the whole lawyer thing doesn’t work out.”

“Look,” Lexa’s hand on her arm makes her lift her eyes. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t have a costume either.”

“Not really. Now I just feel sorry for both of us.”

Lexa snorts. The sound is so uncharacteristically undignified, and it makes Clarke’s chest flood with warmth. A weird thing to have fuzzy tingles over, sure. But - Lexa’s only ever like this with her. No one else. To Clarke, that’s something to cherish. “Okay. Didn’t think it would come to this, but you leave me no choice.” She pauses, no doubt for a dramatic effect. “I will let you choose my costume this year.”

“Really?!” Clarke jumps up, eyes wide. “Are you serious? Wait, I forgot who I was talking to for a second. Of course you're serious.”

“You’re a riot today,” Lexa notes dryly. “I’m gonna be a robot, aren’t I?”

Clarke scoffs. “Please,” she says. “Give me a little more credit than that.”

“Why.” Lexa stares at Clarke through the mirror, and the incredulity of her gaze makes Clarke seriously question her intellectual ability.

“You didn’t have to put it on, you know.”

“I wanted to demonstrate what a bad idea this is.”

Clarke shrugs. “Mission failed,” she lets Lexa know. “I think you look adorable.”

Lexa huffs, folding her arms defensively. “It’s a raccoon onesie,” she points out.

“I know,” Clarke replies in kind, barely resisting from sticking her tongue out at her. “I chose it.”

“Clarke,” Lexa sighs, uncrossing her arms and tugging on a fluffy ear on her hood. “I can’t go in a raccoon onesie.”

Clarke thinks of torturing her just a little bit more, but then reconsiders. Lexa’s already doing a lot for her. Besides, she really does look incredibly cute in this. And, well, in general, but she keeps that thought to herself. For now. “Fine,” she concedes, letting her arms hang lifelessly at her sides. “I give up. I told you we won’t find any good costumes. I’ll just be what I always am at parties. Drunk Clarke.” At Lexa’s disapproving glance, she rolls her eyes. “What? It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Right.” Lexa walks back into the changing room, long fluffy tail trailing after her on the floor. Clarke resists against the urge to step on it and makes a mental note to come back for it later. She sits on a small bench and sighs, waiting for Lexa to change so they can get out of there. This is their fourth store, and so far, nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, per se; a lot of crap, that’s for sure.

Lexa emerges several minutes later, holding the onesie at an arm’s length and glaring at everything and nothing in particular. “We could always wear crappy costumes ironically,” she says. “Pretend we’re being subversive.”

“I don’t want to subvert Halloween,” Clarke protests, rising to her feet. Lexa offers her an elbow, and she takes it, tentatively curling her hand around her bicep. At least something good came out of this whole mess, she thinks. A day with Lexa, followed by a night of partying with Lexa.

She’s not sure she even cares about a stupid costume anymore. But Lexa’s being so attentive - even more so than usual - and she can’t help but milk it for what it’s worth. Hey, she never claimed to be a good person.

“Just ironically, then,” Lexa corrects herself, throwing the onesie over the nearest rack as she confidently leads the way out of the store and into the street. “Or go with some annoying couple’s costume or something.” She’s trying really hard to sound casual, Clarke can tell.

She can tell because Lexa’s failing miserably. And she’s pretty sure she’s about to fail as spectacularly.

“Oh,” she says, cursing inwardly when her voice comes out more high-pitched than usual. “I mean. Oh. I didn’t even think of that.”

Lexa’s face falls slightly, and Clarke just wants to punch herself. She hurries to do damage control. “Because I didn’t want to force you into something you didn’t want to do! Because - I mean - I didn’t want to, uh, to assume anything. Because of… stuff. Us stuff, I mean.” by the time she’s finished with her babble fest, her face feels hot. Lexa keeps silent through all of it, slowing down so that they are standing still when Clarke’s done making a complete fool of herself.

When it’s clear she’s finished talking, Lexa speaks up. “I suggested this precisely because of… us stuff.”

Clarke blinks. “Oh.” And, seriously, can she say something other than that?

Lexa’s studying her carefully, her expression unreadable save for her eyes, vibrant and soft. “Are you - is that okay?” she asks.

“Oh, Lexa,” Clarke breathes out, smiling. All tension is suddenly gone from her body, replaced with relief and excitement, buzzing through her veins. “It’s more than okay,” she murmurs, sliding her hand down to Lexa’s and taking it in her own. Lexa’s fingers automatically lace with her own, and she feels a sweet pang in her chest at that. “I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about… stuff.”

“Us stuff?” Lexa clarifies, smiling her small smile that Clarke really, really wants to kiss off her face. She swallows, willing herself to stay put. At least buy her dinner first, Griffin, she tells herself sternly. After what you’ve put her through, this is the least you can do.

(There... may have been some casual hook-ups between breaking up with Finn and realizing Grand Things about her relationship with Lexa that she doesn’t want to think about. If the sharp lock of Lexa’s jaw at a mere mention of them is any indication, she probably doesn’t want to think about them, either.)

So she takes a deep breath and smiles again, shyly. “Yes. Definitely us stuff.”

She wants to say something else, she knows she does. She has a speech prepared and everything - but Lexa’s eyes fall down to her lips, hooded and soft, and suddenly her mind is blank. And, really, don’t actions speak louder than words anyway?

She’s already leaning in and closing her eyes, but she’s met with nothing when she hears Lexa’s voice again, a little scratchier and deeper than usual. “I think I found just the place.”

Clarke’s eyes fly open. Well, that was fast. She’s not the type of girl to shy away from putting out on a first date, but - they haven’t even had that date yet.

(Would that really be a bad thing? They’ve known each other for a long time. A year is a long time, right?)

“The place?” she asks, confused.

Lexa’s looking somewhere over her shoulder as she nods, in the direction of her gaze. “I think that’s exactly what you want,” she says. “It closes in twenty minutes, though. We should hurry.”

Clarke turns around, following Lexa’s stare. What she finds has her nearly squealing. And she doesn’t squeal. Ever. “Lexa,” she breathes excitedly. “This is perfect.”

Further down the street, there is a small shop. It’s antique-looking; a little rugged and a little run-down. Its small store windows display a myriad of halloween-themed things, from skulls to witch hats and what Clarke assumes are possible spell ingredients. Above the old, wooden door, there is a neon sign that couldn’t possibly look more out of place.

‘Costumes for every soul’, it flashes ominously and invitingly, luring Clarke in.

“It… actually is,” Lexa mulles. “Very… Halloween-y. It’s like it’s straight out of a Tim Burton movie.”

Clarke’s already walking towards it, her hand firmly holding onto Lexa’s, and Lexa has no choice but to follow.

The inside is even better than the outside, in Clarke’s honest - and totally right - opinion. It’s dusty, old wood creaking and red brick walls uneven. It’s also more spacious than she originally gave it credit for. Lexa’s hand squeezes hers, and she squeezes back, looking around in complete awe.

She’d, like, actually live here.

“This is so cool,” she hears Lexa exhale next to her.

“I thought you didn’t like Halloween.”

“I can appreciate the aesthetics,” Lexa fires back, but, before they can settle into their comfortable banter, loud coughing behind them makes them jump and sharply turn around to face the counter.

They are greeted by the sight of an old lady in a pointy hat, looking at them with a suspicious squint. “Not stealing, are you?” she utters, and her eyes narrow even further.

Clarke shakes her head while Lexa breathes through her nose, indignant. “No, we’re not stealing anything,” she reassures the old lady who doesn’t look like she believes her. “We’re here to find a costume. For both us.”

The lady looks between them. Glances down at their joined hands, and Clarke bristles when her scowl deepens. “A couple’s costume?” she grunts, clearly displeased.

Clarke lifts her chin. “Yes,” she says defiantly, tightening her hand around Lexa’s. “A couple’s costume.”

She prepares herself for the inevitable backlash they are about to face, no doubt. She certainly doesn’t expect a wide smile to appear on the lady’s face, brightening her expression up.

She almost flinches when the woman clasps her hands together, looking positively giddy. “Well, dear,” she exclaims, “why didn’t you say so? No need to be shy in this shop, my sweet girl.” With an agility rarely possessed by people her age, the old lady walks out from behind the counter and hugs them by their shoulders, turning them around and leading them somewhere in the middle of the shop. Her dark-green robe trails after them on the ground. “I’ve just the thing for you, oh,” she leans in conspiratorially, grinning. “You’ll have a lot of fun tonight, my dear girl - a lot of fun!”

In hindsight, that should’ve been their cue to run away and never come back.

Of course, they stay put. “Okay,” Clarke says dubiously, blinking. “But we really just need a decent costume. Two.”

“Well, who d’you wanna be, darlin’?” she only now notices that the woman’s accent is drifting between extremes: Boston, british, southern drawl. Huh, she thinks to herself. She must have been an actress. Or wanted to be one.

“We, are,” Clarke glances at Lexa who’s watching the whole exchange with a small frown. “We’re not sure.”

“Well, that just will not do!” the woman gasps. “A serious matter, darlin’ - now would you like me to find something for ya or do you want to snoop around for a while?”

“We’ll look around,” Lexa finally speaks up, neutrally. “We won’t be long. Thank you.”

“But of course,” the woman’s smile widens even more, if that’s possible. “I shall leave you two to it. Grumpy little thang, that one - you take care of her, sweetheart,” she tells Clarke before turning sharply on her heels and disappearing between racks full of costumes.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here,” Lexa tries to move, but Clarke’s grip on her han becomes iron.

“Lexa,” she chuckles quietly. “Are you scared of that sweet old lady?”

“She’s not sweet, Clarke, she’s unsettling,” Lexa says in a serious tone.

Clarke only laughs harder. “I’m supposed to be the paranoid one, with the amount of horror movies I watch,” she teases Lexa. “Yet, here we are.”

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” Lexa tries weakly. But Clarke’s mind is already made up.

“Come on,” she tugs on her hand. The realization that they’ve been holding hands this entire time spreads pleasant hum through her body, and she eagerly welcomes it, running her thumb across the back of Lexa’s hand soothingly. “We promised we wouldn’t take long. Let’s find something cool.”

“So,” Lexa cocks her head to the side, looking Clarke up and down. “A quiet meltdown, an entire day, and five stores later, and you pick the cheesiest costume of all?”

Clarke finishes putting fake blood all over her mouth. “Wow,” she muses out loud. “You are a grumpy little thang.”

Lexa doesn’t even blink. “I am,” she says. “You already knew that.”

“Eh,” Clarke shrugs, readjusting the skirts of her dress. “I’m grumpier.”

Lexa can’t exactly argue, so she sighs and tugs on her black frock coat, critically surveying herself in Clarke’s mirror. “I don’t think I have enough blood on my shirt,” she comments. “I just look like a southern gentleman from the nineteenth century. Not a vampire.” She glances at Clarke again. “Are we really going as vampires?”

“Yup,” Clarke pops the ‘p’ when she answers. She’s almost finished with her make-up - it’s the darkest she’s ever wore it, and she can’t say she hates it. Dial it down a notch, and it could be a great look for dates at a bar.

Or private lapdances. They’ll figure it out. “Victorian vampires. You can’t go wrong with the classics.” Admittedly, she’s a little surprised with her own choice. But there was something about these costumes that hung in the back, looking brand new and perfectly tailored. The old lady practically squealed when she saw them wearing those, too.

The fact that she offered them fifty percent off only made her choice easier.

“There is classic, and there is cheesy,” Lexa notes thoughtfully, still looking at herself in the mirror. Oh, how Clarke gets her, She has trouble taking her eyes off Lexa, too. The frock coat accentuates her slim waist and regal posture. High pants show off her endlessly long legs, and a purposefully disheveled necktie around an open collar gives a lovely view of her slender neck.

Clarke comes up to her and fiddles with her tie some more before dipping her fingers in fake blood and dragging them down that beautiful neck, slowly, watching rich crimson color drip on the pristine white of Lexa’s shirt. And Lexa watches her.

“You do look great, you know,” she murmurs to her, lifting her hand to play with blonde locks. “Curls suit you.”

“They disarm people,” Clarke smirks, and if it’s just a touch wicked, Lexa doesn’t say anything. She’s really feeling this costume, okay? “I’m not really above using that to my advantage,” she says, dropping her voice an octave lower. She’s wearing flats, since she’s pretty sure she’ll constantly trip over her long dress in heels, and that gives Lexa a bigger height advantage than usual. Her shoes also have a small heel, which only serves to make her look taller than Clarke.

She thinks she’s okay with it.

“Spoken like a true Victorian vampire,” Lexa chuckles, her warm, minty breath hitting Clarke’s lips. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not really that cheesy.” She turns to look at them in the mirror, missing a slightly frustrated look that flashes through blue eyes.

‘Why won’t she just kiss me?’

(‘Is she waiting for a perfect moment, like I was?’)

“Yeah, well,” she voices instead, grabbing a wet wipe and cleaning the blood off her fingers. “With all the Batmans and Robins, we’ll definitely stand out.”

“You’re right,” Lexa gently takes her hand and places it on the inside of her bent elbow, and she smiles, leaning closer. “Now, I don’t know about you, dear,” Lexa drawls - or tries to - in her best British accent, “but I am positively hungry. Shall we show them how it’s done?”

“Yes, we shall,” Clarke chuckles, letting Lexa lead her out the door. “Tasteful mayhem, here we come.”

“And ruckus,” Lexa says. “Don’t forget ruckus.”

“I don’t think that’s the right word.”

“Whatever. I’m Victorian.”

“Boo!” Someone with a white sheet draped over them jumps from behind the door and screams out as soon as Clarke and Lexa walk in. Clarke screams back while Lexa drags a hand down her face.

“Raven, what the fuck?!”

Raven - and that’s exactly who it is, considering it’s her house they walked into - tugs the sheet off, grinning at them. “I totally got you, Woods,” she boasts, leaning on her good leg and lifting the cane to wave it in Lexa’s general direction. “Okay, this? Hot. You seeing anyone?”

“Only her sire and eternal lover,” Clarke says, and there is only a hint of joking in her tone. She gestures at herself, twirling so Raven can get a good look. “What do you say?”

Raven’s silent for a fraction of a second. “Hot,” she repeats, this time giving them both a once-over. “Alright, I just need to grab my jacket, and then we can go.” She turns, heading into the kitchen. “Blood kink’s definitely back on the list,” she mutters under her breath.

“What was that, Raven?”

“Nothing!”

Clarke shrugs. “See,” she says to Lexa who’s still shaking her head at Raven’s back. “Told you this is an awesome idea.”

“I’m already sold,” Lexa replies, smiling. “She’s right, you know.”

Clarke hums under her breath. “Right about what?” She’s really enjoying watching the tips of Lexa’s ears grow red.

“You are hot.”

The sound of gagging coming from their left makes them step away from each other - Clarke hasn’t even noticed when they got this close. “Get a room, eternal lover.”

“Get a costume,” Clarke shoots back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Please don’t tell me you’re going as your bedsheet.”

“Alright,” Raven shrugs, rolling the white sheet up and putting it under her arm. “I won’t.” At Clarke’s pointed stare, she scoffs. “Obviously not, Clarke. I’m a ghost! See?” She shakes the sheet in front of Clarke’s nose, laughing when she recoils, scowling.

“I can’t believe we stressed over our costumes so much and you’re going to put a sheet on.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s not my bedsheet. I bought it in this weird ass little shop downtown. Two bucks, baby!” Raven exclaims. “Whoa, easy there,” she says next, noticing Lexa flex her jaw muscles in irritation. “She’s all yours. Don’t mean no harm.”

“That’s a double negative.”

“Wow.” Raven gapes at her. “I’m wearing a sheet and I’m still cooler than both of you combined. Tonight’s gonna be so awesome!”

Tonight, in fact, does not turn out to be awesome at all. They don’t even make it to the party when something strange happens. And by strange, Clarke means some weird shit is going down.

At first, they feel dizzy. All three of them. Raven staggers first, almost losing her sheet. That’s what prompts her to tug it on. Clarke will never understand how her mind operates sometimes.

Lexa falters next, and Clarke follows immediately after, stopping and rubbing her forehead.

“Whoa,” Raven mumbles from under the sheet. “Headrush.”

“Yeah,” Lexa says. She goes to say something else, but words die in her throat when she stares over Raven’s shoulder who’s come to stand in front of them. “What the fuck?”

Clarke’s not sure what shakes her more - hearing Lexa swear or seeing what she sees next. Right here, in front of her very eyes, is the ugliest mob she’s ever seen. At first, she thinks it’s just a bunch of dudes wearing masks.

Until one of the dudes pins a screaming guy against a tree and bites his arm with his very real, very sharp, very inhuman teeth.

There were children here, on the street, trick-or-treating. Just now. Just a second ago. Where did they go?

Clarke hears a scream. It takes her awhile to realize it’s coming from her.

What the fuck, indeed.

“Come on,” she hears a familiar voice in her ear before she feels strong arms around her. “Let’s get back inside!”

Clarke can’t tear her eyes away from the scene before her. There’s so much blood. Actual blood. Someone runs up to help the poor guy; two men who wrestle the attacker and drag the victim away. So much blood. So much…

Blood…

Blood.

They barely make it back to Raven’s before they all collapse, breath caught from dull pain spreading brought their bodies starting at the center of their stomachs. Clarke briefly wonders if they are about to be sick from what they've witnessed, and then her mind goes blank.

When she rises back up, her finger lazily wiping at her mouth, everything is sharp and vivid and this sticky substance on her lips tastes heavenly.

Blood.

Lexa's eyes find hers, dark and bloodshot.

“Clarke.” Oh, how she missed that sound. Lexa's tongue curling around the edges of her name, ending with a soft click. She’s been deprived of it for a little over a century, and out of all tortures she had to endure in her lifetime, this has proved to be the worst one.

“My love,” she breathes, grasping the back of her neck, trailing her finger up her neck and gathering thick, fresh blood - she always was a messy eater, Clarke thinks with a blissful grin. “I found you.”

Behind them, Raven sits up, clutching her head and groaning. “What the…” she lifts her eyes that widen when they are greeted by the sight of her friends passionately making out right in her hallway.

But that shock is nothing compared to her glancing down and seeing what suspiciously looks like her own body lying lifelessly on the ground while she sits right in the middle of it. Like, right in the middle of it. As if she’s incorporeal, like an actual ghosts.

“What the fuck?!” seems like an appropriate phrase right about now.

She’s still staring at her own body, terrified, when she notices the house has grown silent, save for the sounds of mayhem outside. When she raises her eyes for a second time, she finds Clarke and Lexa studying her with rapt interest, identical smoldering gazes burning through her as Lexa presses her forehead to Clarke’s cheek, biting her lip at Clarke slowly dragging her nails across her jawline.

This is creepy and weirdly sexual. Normally, Raven would be all for that, but right now, with her seemingly dead body on the floor and two of her friends eyeing her like she’s meat on a stick, she’d much rather opt out of all of this.

“Come, darling,” Clarke says in what is actually a really good British accent. “Dinner is served.”

Since Raven is a fucking ghost now and Victorian vampires are apparently above drinking from the corpse, dinner party stops before it has a chance to begin. And there is no doubt in Raven’s mind that Clarke and Lexa are actual honest-to-god blood-drinking sun-hating cross-fearing weirdly-into-making-out-against-walls vampires.

The last part throws her off the most, because when they come back to their normal selves - and Raven can’t bear the thought of that not happening - knowing both of them, they are going to blame themselves and take forever to reconcile due to impressive emotional constipation on both ends. She’s surprised they even made it this far in the first place. Well. ‘Going to a Halloween party together’ this far. Not ‘about to have shameful and undoubtedly kinky sex on her couch’ this far. That was not a good far.

“Stop this!” she shouts, trying to haul Lexa off Clarke and helplessly watching as her arms pass right through her. “Lexa, you will regret this tomorrow, I’m telling you.”

Lexa growls. “I do not do regrets, little girl.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve seen yourself last Christmas.” Raven huffs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Too bad you don’t remember any of it.”

That’s the icing on top of this pile of shit that’s trying to pass as cake. Neither Clarke nor Lexa remember who they actually are. They’ve gone full-on MIstresses of the night or whatever.

And they are about to make the biggest mistake of their lives.

“Lexa, do not... Where’s your hand? Lexa, where’s your damn hand?! Oh my god - don’t bite her! Clarke, don’t you bite her back!”

Where are the Blakes when you need them?

Right on cue, her living room window shatters because a body comes hurling right through it, rolling over on the floor and springing to feet faster than lightning. “Civilians!” the overly excited body shouts in a deep voice, clutching an assault rifle in a confident grip. “We gotta get them to safety!”

“They were safe before you went all Universal Soldier on them, you moron,” a grumpy voice replies before the owner climbs in as well, mindful of the glass. “Raven’s going to kill you.”

“Who’s Raven?”

“She’s standing right in front of you - man, this is some dope shit you’re on,” Octavia informs her brother. The Blakes stare at Raven, one mildly apologetic and another with a blank look on his face.

“Great. Bellamy doesn’t remember anything, either, does he,” Raven says. Octavia shakes her head and walks up to her to give her a quick hug. Of course, she fails miserably. Her blue eyes widen with shock.

“Wha - how?! What the fuck’s going on?”

“You tell me,” Raven mumbles, taking a step back because seeing Octavia’s hand inside her chest is more than a little disturbing. “Let me guess. Bellamy is a soldier for Halloween.”

“Yeah, only he took it to a whole new level,” the last part is sneered at the boy as Octavia scowls. “He broke your goddamn window. Did you see that?”

“Was kinda hard not to. Okay, I have this insane theory that doesn’t make sense, only it’s the only thing that does. So here goes. I’m pretty sure we became our costumes. Like, half an hour ago. Bell’s a soldier,” she nods at Octavia’s brother who stands, unmoving, in a dark-green tank-top and military pants. “I, the idiot I am, went as a ghost,” she waves a hand over herself. “And our resident power couple went as vampires.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, her eyes widen. “Oh shit. You’re - you guys are alive. Which means they can eat you.”

“Observant,” Clarke comments from the couch, her dress hiked up and half-unzipped, showing off stockings and pale shoulders. Damn, Lexa’s smooth. “I think I like this poor soul, may she never rest in peace.”

“That level of evil is completely unnecessary,” Raven mumbles.

Octavia whistles. “Her accent is actually really impressive.”

Raven doesn’t have time to think of a snappy reply, because Lexa chooses that moment to rise to her feet, eyes glinting with hunger and blood smeared over her neck and shirt. It’s not fake anymore. “Come, love,” she murmurs to Clarke, courteously extending her hand and helping her up. “Let’s feast. You will need all the strength for what I have planned for you tonight.”

“She’s talking about sex, right,” Octavia whispers to Raven.

“You don’t wanna know where Lexa’s hand was before you barged in. Also, I think you need to run. And fast.”

Lexa lets out a low, rumbling growl, her and Clarke slipping into their vampire faces. It’s downright terrifying - the way their foreheads grow bumps and their eyes burn a bright yellow, sharp teeth bared in a snarl. Octavia seems to think so, too, because she lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek. Raven makes a mental note to tease her about it tomorrow.

GIven that they make it out of here alive.

“Out of the way, lady,” Bellamy roars, rushing forward and standing between them and the vampires, his rifle ready. “The no-shooting order is still in place?” he asks, his eyes trained on Clarke and Lexa who are slowly advancing on them, looking amused.

“Don’t shoot!” Raven panics. “You may not remember it, but they are your friends. Well. Kind of.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bellamy states. Right before Lexa takes him by his neck and throws him into a wall.

“Holy shit!” his sister yelps. “She just threw him into a wall!”

“I know, I was there,” Raven yells back before focusing her eyes on Lexa’s face. Lexa’s terrifying, deformed face. “Lexa,” she tries. “Please, please listen to me. We’re your friends. You lost your memory, but you have to know it somewhere. Me, O, Clarke, even Bellamy, we’re all friends, and if you kill one of them, you will never forgive yourself. Ever.”

Lexa scoffs. “I have no idea who any of you are,” she says. “But I do know what I am.” she throws a quick glance over her shoulder where Clarke is watching her, eyes hooded and smirk lazy. “I am starving.”

“Lexa, please, no!” Raven screams when the vampire lunges at Octavia who ducks and falls to the floor. She watches, helplessly, as she rolls over and tries to fight Lexa off, clutching something in her hand. “Wait, O, you can’t kill her, either!”

“Look!” Octavia cries, thrusting something at Lexa’s face who recoils, caught off-guard. “Look! We’re not lying, just look!”

In her grip, knuckles white from pressure, is a photograph Finn took of all of them last summer. They are at the beach, smiling into the camera - everyone except Lexa who’s looking at Clarke with a soft smile, an arm draped over her shoulder. It must have been knocked off the phone stand when Lexa pushed Clarke to the couch.

“I don’t understand,” Lexa blinks, all earlier aggression gone as she stares at the photo, confused. Clarke joins her, looking over her shoulder and frowning prettily at what she sees. “This is me. And you. With-” she looks up at Raven, flabbergasted. “With them.”

“Slayer!” someone yells outside, and everyone looks out the window where a mismatched mob walks through the street, smashing car windows and mailboxes on their way, lead by a blonde man in a black duster. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Clarke’s eyes narrow. “Is that William-”

Bellamy swiftly knocking both of them out with a butt of his rifle to the temple is completely out of blue and therefore absolutely in line with the night’s theme. Raven’s not even that surprised. “I don’t hit women,” he says. “But desperate times-”

“Yeah, whatever, Rambo,” she sighs. “Let’s get them tied up and hope duct tape holds up against vampire strength.”

“I really am sorry,” Lexa repeats, rubbing her temple. “I don’t actually want to kill your sister. Or throw you into walls.”

“Well,” Clarke speaks up. “Actually.” When everyone’s eyes fall on her, she shrugs. “What? Not all the time. Only when they bring that fine Blake assholery to the table.”

“That sounded wrong on so many levels,” Raven notes, bringing another bag of frozen peas and offering it to Lexa who takes it gratefully, pressing it to her head.

“I’m sorry too,” Bell says, gesturing at Lexa’s hand that holds the peas. “That was so bizarre. LIke being in a dream, while aware of being in a dream.”

“A nightmare, more like it,” Clarke corrects him. “Not that it’s very uncommon here.”

“Is it too late to switch schools?” Lexa asks.

“Afraid so.”

They woke up tied to a pole in Raven’s basement, with Raven and the Blake siblings watching them in tense silence. Clarke was ready to snarl and snap their necks when the same wave of dizzy nausea hit them, and everyone but Octavia doubled over, groaning in pain. When Clarke came to it a second time, Raven was fiercely hugging O and squeezing a dazed Bellamy’s hand who had a small toy rifle in his other one.

Lexa was even more dazed, blinking at her owlishly with hands tied behind her back. “There’s no way that actually happened.”

Except it did.

Now, they are sitting in Raven’s living room after helping her clean up. Bell got a tiny cut on his finger when picking up glass, and Clarke’s never been more relieved to feel sick when a tiny droplet of blood slid down his palm before he wiped it away.

Fucking Sunnydale.

“Well,” Bell clears his throat, standing up. Octavia joins him. “We better get going. The frat is most likely in ruins right now.” He grabs the last cookie from the plate on his way out. “See you guys later.”

“We should probably go back to the dorms, too,” Lexa says. “I really want to change out of this costume.”

“Agreed,” Clarke shudders. “Hey," she says, realizing something. "How come Octavia stayed herself?"

"Oh, that's because she's the only one out of all of us who got her costume at a different shop," Raven replies.

Clarke nods. "Well, Halloween might very well be ruined forever.”

“Yeah, right,” Raven snorts. “Say it to my face a year from now.”

They exchange hugs with her when they leave, and Clarke doesn’t quite catch the words Raven whispers to Lexa, but, judging by Lexa’s faint blush, it’s not something she wants to hear, anyway.

They walk down the street in tense silence, and Clarke’s never thought she’d say this, but Lexa’s presence is heavy and uncomfortable. Halfway through the walk, she has enough.

“Lexa-”

“Clarke-” Apparently, Lexa has the same idea. They look at each other, frozen, before laughing quietly, in unison.

“You go,” Lexa says when they calm down, and Clarke nods.

“Okay.” she takes a deep breath. “Okay.” and then she kisses her.

Lexa’s lips are soft and warm and don’t taste like blood at all. Clarke lets it ground her, lets out a soft sigh and leans even closer, looping her arms around her neck and smiling when she feels Lexa’s hands on the small of her back, tentative and gentle.

It’s bizarre. Kissing Lexa after kissing Lexa. Thinking of Lexa, a girl she met a year ago, and thinking of Lexa, her creation, her love, the one she’s lost over a century ago. Yearning for her - starving for her while being fully aware that the past she has in her head simply does not exist.

But at the same time, it’s the most intense feeling she’s ever experienced, and it might be terrible, but she kind of doesn’t want it to end just yet.

Will these memories ever fade? Will they clash with the life they used to have, or will they entwine each other until it’s all they know?

“Clarke.” Lexa’s lips are red and kiss-bruised. and her shuddering breath sends a shiver down Clarke’s spine, pleasant and sharp. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Lexa,” she says, but Lexa shakes her head, silencing her.

“No, I’m… This is confusing,” she starts quietly. “But - I’m sorry, my love,” gentle fingers under her chin, a thumb smoothing over her jaw. Clarke leans into it, heart bleeding all over. “For waiting so long to find you.”

“So you still remember, too,” Clarke exhales. Lexa watches tears slide down her cheek, slowly and silently, from blue eyes that sparkle with pain and relief.

Great. Not only were she and Lexa forced into a weird modern soulmate tale, her narrative might slip into an annoying flowery kind every now and then.

“Perhaps we’ll forget soon. Perhaps not.” Green eyes are earnest and soft. “Either way, I don’t think I care.”

And that - that’s all Clarke really needs to hear. A confirmation that Lexa’s not about to run off to deal with these overwhelming feelings on her own. A confirmation that Lexa will stay there.

“But you still have to buy me dinner first before putting your hands in… places,” she notes, enjoying Lexa’s blush.

Weird modern soulmate tale doesn’t sound so bad, anyway.

Not bad at all.

Somewhere in the quiet of the night, the wind picks up a faint sound of giggling, carrying it above two girls softly kissing under moonlight.

#clexa #femslash #wlw fic #halloween #spooktober femslash

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yoonzinow · 4 years ago

Text

red moon - k.mg

➺ inspired by gose’s bad clue episode, mingyu tells his side of the story

• warnings and note: mentions of s*icide, death, angsty angst, the reader’s medical license should probably be taken away lol, over use of the word endearing, lots of difference from the episode, also, Jeonghan, I’m so sorry. There is a lil romantic epilogue in the end but it’s optional, I just had to because I’m too soft and I love happy endings. Sorry if it’s all of the sudden, but if I extended too much it would be too long and I’m not that creative. Again, forgive any typos and I really hope it doesn’t suck ♥

• wc: 9.9k

Your office was simple. Even if you wanted to make it feel more like home, there wasn’t much that could be done. The most you could manage to get was a tapestry hanging on the wall. Even though the inmates were cuffed during the sessions, it was still required to remove any potential harmful object, as well as strong colors or shapes that could be triggering. There weren’t any pictures, ornaments or sculptures of any kind. It was just the locker, a table and two similar chairs.

You were still standing up, waiting for him to come in. You would usually wait for the patient to choose where they sit, but this time, it wasn’t that. It was simply because you froze in place.

-Come in. – you tried not to sound as small as you felt.

After the second noise, the door opened slowly, revealing the most confusing thing you could imagine seeing.

If you’re told you’ll be meeting a criminal, a murderer, the child in your head makes this image of a monster, a creature you wouldn’t want to look in the eyes. But the moment you laid eyes on Mingyu, you saw everything. Pain, confusion, grief and something else you couldn’t yet pin point. All of that in a face sculpted by the angels themselves.

-You can have a seat. – you pointed to the table, but not a specific chair. He sat down on the one closest to him. The guards locked his handcuffs to the hook on the table and left to wait outside. You bowed lightly and waited for the door to close. Walking towards the table, you sat down. The first thought when he first looked at you was that somehow, he knew. You wondered if anything would give away, even though it was highly unlikely.

-So, first of all, how would you like me to call you?

-Mingyu is fine. And you? Doctor? Ms.? Mam? – although his words could come out as cocky, he had a boyish charm that gave him an endearing look. It was like he sat next to you in a park and was simply trying to start conversation. It was like he wasn’t in therapy to understand his crimes. You just had to decide whether it made your job harder or simply more of a challenge.

-Doctor. – you feared you sounded a bit harsh, but it was probably your mind telling you he knew.

-So tell me a little about yourself. – you put your notepad on the table and the pen on your lap, in a force of habit.

-Could you be a bit more specific, doctor? I mean, there’s a lot about me. My past, my present, my preferences, my fears. So, any particular topic I should start with? – again, he didn’t sound cocky. He was genuinely asking.

-Hum… Yeah, it’s a bit of a vague question. Let’s start differently. How are you feeling today?

Like any other patient, you didn’t immediately take notes. Most of them weren’t exactly happy for being arrested, so at first, you tried your best to avoid triggering even more anger, making them feel analyzed instead of heard. Regardless of the backstory you had, Mingyu wouldn’t be any different.

-I’m a very sensitive person. I felt different kinds of distinct emotions since I woke up. – he took a deep breath. –First, I looked around the boring cell and felt… Well, I’m not sure what the feeling was but I guess I had a quick flashback of the recent past. I was quickly interrupted by a short yet stout guard with weirdly thin eyebrows. His grumpy expression mixed with curiosity of what was waiting for me here just made me feel… - he looked around as if he was searching for the right word. –Anxious, to put it simply.

Simply. You wondered what he’d say if wording it the complex way.

-So, what did you think about this place? I mean, what did you expect it to be?

-Honestly? I had no idea, but at the same time, I guess I knew. – he showed a bit of a sad smile. – I guess… - again, he paused. He was constantly trying to find the right words. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was naturally articulated when speaking or if he simply was trying to make your job easy. –I knew it would be visually boring. Why bother decorating for this kind of people, right? – again, he smiled sadly. –But to be honest, I also wondered how I would feel like, spiritually, maybe.

Looking at him was a very interesting thing. His words were obviously heavy in meaning, but what really caught your attention was his body language. As he continued talking about his expectations, he kept smiling as if trying to convince himself that it wasn’t that bad. But he knew it was, and it wasn’t likely to get any better, at least not anytime soon. He was relaxed in his seat, at the same time, holding a firm, polite posture. Giving his medical record, it wasn’t his first time doing that, except this time, it wasn’t about how he felt, it was about what he’s done. He also showed something unknown. His expression had this sort of acceptance to it, as if he knew that his fate was already determined and there was no way back. However, that meant he had something inside that he wasn’t showing completely, and something told you that he wouldn’t. Ever.

Or maybe he did already. You just didn’t pick up.

5 weeks later

The things were going smoothly with Mingyu’s daily sessions. The problem is: you didn’t start talking about the crime itself. You decided to approach him slowly, making him feel somehow safe to open up. Even though he was talkative and cooperated most of the time, there was still something about him that wasn’t being shown. The first troubled feelings and fear that treating him would be wrong was being vanished a lot faster than you thought. Sure, sometimes it would hit you that the man in front of you killed someone you were fond of, but the professional part of you needed to go deeper. Mingyu was polite, kind, not to mention his ridiculously handsome looks. It intrigued you very, very much. How could this be the same man who murdered six people in one night?

But you knew you had to get into the part of his life that led him to this fate. It would be hard and scary, yet intriguing and fascinating.

He entered the room with a smile that was now genuine. It wasn’t that wide or cheerful, but simply out of well manners. The whole process of cuffing him to the table was finished and the guards left. It was quite soon, but you would, eventually, tell the security that the cuffs were no longer needed, as you did with every other patient whose behavior didn’t come as threatening.

-Good morning, doctor.

-Good morning. How are you today?

-The same as yesterday. – he shrugged slightly.

-Okay. – you nodded, ready to jump to the next question. – I have to ask you a question and you might think I’m a bit late for that but… how are you feeling in general, about being here? And by ‘general’ I mean both physically and mentally. How is it that you are settling in the facilities?

-Well, I understand why you took the time to ask that. Obviously the first couple of days can be terrible. But honestly? If we’re talking about the facilities and the overall routine, I can definitely say it’s not that bad. I have a lot more freedom than I thought, so do the other patients. At least the non-violent ones. I won’t say I’m happy, of course. But it could be much, much worse.

-I see. I’m glad you are settling in. Have you made any acquaintances yet?

-I did, actually. I usually have long talks with this older lady when we have the common room time. And I’m also very close with this kid called Hiro, you know him?

-No, not really. He’s not with me. In fact, I don’t really recall that name. Is he Japanese?

-Nope. – he emphasized the ‘p’, amused with the story. –I actually don’t know his name, but that’s what he wants to be called. He doesn’t really talk about his past that much but he wants to leave it behind. So he decided he will be the man he wished he was. He chose his own name and his story began here, so he doesn’t really feel like he’s been locked up, but simply lives here? Don’t know if you got it but yeah. He’s a lot of fun to be around.

You never heard of that patient but you heard similar stories from the other doctors, since it was a huge facility with a lot of professionals, there was no way one could know about every case.

-I’m glad. I hope you can keep up. I heard you were very cooperative last Friday on the game night. You helped a lot before and after cleaning up. Does it feel good to be helpful?

-Yes, it does. – his response came quickly with the most adorable smile you have ever seen, making him look like a proud child. It made your heart clench a little, because you knew the course of the conversation was to bring no reason to smile.

-So, tell me. How do you feel about talking about your past? – you tried to be as careful as possible, not wanting to crash down the amused aura he had previously.

-Honestly? Not great. But also, I was kind of prepared. It’s therapy for inmates, of course I’d have to talk eventually.

His words felt like lots of pounds taken from your back. Mingyu showed himself as more and more mature as time went by and you couldn’t be more satisfied. He knew what you were doing, and he was by no means confused or scared. Sure, talking about the amount of abuse he had to face wouldn’t be a pleasant thing to do, but he knew it was the right thing to do in order to let you do your job.

-That’s true. It’s a very good thing that you know it’s a vital step for us. So, is it okay if I ask you some questions now?

He only nodded.

-Do you understand why you’re here? Not in the office, in the Hospital. – he pouted slightly, but you continued. – You don’t have to explain or tell me in detail. Just tell me if you understand.

-Yes, I do. I mean, I know why. Not sure if I comprehend, but I understand.

You liked the way he worded it. In fact, every single one of his sentences was captivating in their own way.

-Alright. We’ll get back to it later. But I have another question. Where do you think you should be right now? – you were genuinely curious about his answer. You feared he would say something harmful, or go to a more generic path and try to make you feel bad about him, but once again, he took a different turn from which you would expect.

-I should be in a loving home, in the company of a family, or, at least, of people that care about me. Oddly enough, I think I deserve it.

-I don’t think it’s odd. Everybody deserves it. You can say it with confidence.

-Isn’t it, though? I mean, I had family. But look where we are now. Do I really deserve a family that loves me if I got rid of the one I had?

You were in loss of words. He was one step ahead of you, as if he knew already the whole process. Half of you wanted to say to the board: ‘’Okay, tell the judge this man has no need for therapy, because he is more aware of this own emotions than any person declared sane you ever seen.’’

But the other half… That one had this little voice saying it was a matter of time before you found something lurking, waiting to jump on you and make all of your work go to waste.

-Before everything that happened, did you feel for those who were your relatives any kind of emotion that resembles a family kind of notion?

He thought for a minute, surprisingly, not giving you a quick response.

-Well, you can say that. I felt some kind of safety, but not the emotional kind. It was like… If I got into an accident or something, someone would be there to pay the hospital bills and such. It’s not the warm kind of safety but I guess it counts.

So does my insurance company, you thought. -Did you feel loved?

-I guess I’ll never know. I don’t know what if feels like to be loved, so I don’t really have anything to compare with.

Your heart broke a little by hearing his words. Whether he was a great actor or he was simply lonely. Completely, utterly, devastatingly lonely.

-So, what did yo- before you could finish your question, a screeching sound came from the speakers, making you jump from your seat.

-What was that? – Mingyu covered his ears with a pained expression from the disturbing noise.

-An inmate escaped. All of the doors will be locked for a while. – you tried to sound calm but it was always stressing when the sirens went off.

-How the fuck did someone escape? Seriously, there are more guards than prisoners here.

-It’s fine, they can’t go too far. It’s all the same security system all over the facility. The electrical fences automatically increase in voltage.

You didn’t actually think Mingyu would try to escape, but you chose to remind him there was no use trying. Getting off of a cell wasn’t impossible, or escaping from kitchen duty, maybe. Escaping the Hospital was a whole different story. So, it was better to just enforce the information to him.

Soon, a second noise, a shorter one was heard, signaling the inmate was found. However, the session had to be stopped. Every patient must go back to their room once someone tries to escape, for head count.

-As the door opens, the guards will come get you and you’ll go back to your room. I’ll have to warn you, though, they might get a little rough. These attempts of escaping make them a bit angry, just so you prepare for some sort of aggression. Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them anyway. But they do get a little…

-I get it. – he looked at you with an understanding complexion. –Thank you for warning me.

But were you really warning him? Or you were trying to prepare yourself to a potential scene of him being treated badly?

Mingyu didn’t have his sessions for the next two days after the attempt of escaping of a patient. All of them were put in some sort of lockdown, as an indirect warning. Later that day, he would be coming back, and you were strangely excited. You told yourself over and over again that it was only because you were still curious about the story he was about to tell you, but deep down, you knew there was something else. You could almost say you missed him, even though it was a terrible thing to even think about.

You just needed some time to cool down, so you chose a nice, calm walk through the garden. Everything was back to normal, so it wouldn’t be that boring to walk through the hospital.

The Sun was shining in its full glory, making everything around you seem brighter and more alive. You felt warm inside and out. A few older patients were sitting on a wooden bench, not really talking much, just admiring it all. Some younger ones were cleaning up and looking around.

At the back, there was this little area with a fairy garden kind of vibe. There were flower spirals and two swings, always busy with someone playing like a child. It made you giggle.

However, your smile faltered and you stopped in your tracks. There he was, sitting on the grass, admiring a humming bird kissing a flower.

As a patient called your name, his attention was brought to you. A girl with a shy smile and a flower in her hair came to you.

-Good morning doctor. It’s been a while! – she signaled you to come closer and used her hand to cover her mouth as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. –To be honest, my current doctor has nothing on you.

You chuckled a little.

-Well, I hope you get along eventually. But for the record, I miss you. – you winked a little. –By the way, you look stunning. – you pointed at her hair.

-Oh. – she reached for the flower and put it on the back of your ear. –Now you look stunning too.

-Oh my, thank you so much! – you smiled widely, with warmth coming from your heart. –But what about you?

-I look pretty without it too. – she covered her mouth as she chuckled. –But if I want another flower, I know where to get it. She walked away, bouncing a little as she happily returned to the people she was playing with. As you brought your attention back to Mingyu, you saw him smiling, fond of the scene that he just saw. You wondered if you should go talk to him or just wave and leave. Apparently, your legs made that choice for you, seeing as you were already walking towards him.

-You look very good. – he said, admiring your features.

-You like my new gift? – you smiled, pointing at the flower you just got.

-I do, I do. – his look became a bit more serious. –But it’s not all. You look… I don’t know. You’re kind of glowing.

You gulped hard. In your sessions, you had your ways of being stern and diverting the situation, but there, just hanging out on the garden, you weren’t sure how to react. Luckily, he didn’t let you wonder too hard and just changed the topic.

-Your patients really admire you, huh? – he asked and motioned his head to his side, silently asking you to sit down.

You straightened your medical coat and sat next to him in the grass.

-It does make me really happy to think so.

He nodded in agreement.

-Me included, doctor. – his voice was small, barely audible.

-I’m sorry? – you asked in hopes he wouldn’t say something that could make you blush. The natural light would make it impossible to cover.

-I admire you. As a professional, of course. – it was endearing how he made sure his words weren’t misunderstood. You just hated the fact that you were expecting something else. –And trust me, -he continued- I have been to a lot of doctors. You listen to me, like really listen. To this person right here, not the boy they wrote I am on that medical record. I never felt the need of showing the real one to anyone because nobody would understand. That is until I met you. I feel safer being with you for this past weeks than I ever felt with doctors that treated me for months.

You completely froze. His words gave you a million sensations all at once, making all of what you thought about your job go to waste. You were a professional, you should be glad that you were doing your job properly. But this? This was affecting you in a completely personal level. It was the pride of achievement, except, not labor related. It was the good feeling of having a special place in the mind of someone you were growing fond of.

Maybe it started slowly, or maybe there was this one moment when one of his sweet words penetrated your soul and made you see something you haven’t before with a patient. It was this hunger for more, this need of understanding that man and even a bit of anxiety to find reasons to de criminalize him. Maybe you were growing the same affection you did in every case, only seeing it more intensely for some reason. Or, in the worst case scenario, you were happy you made him happy. Because you wanted him to be happy.

Not only cured, but happy.

You thought about a million words to use but none of those would hide your fear. You knew that a single word could make you look guilty, for something you were yet to find out.

-It’s almost lunch time. I have to go fill some papers but I’ll see you later, yeah? – you stood up quickly, shaking any piece of grass out of you. -Can’t wait. – he showed you his smile, as sweet as everything else about Kim Mingyu.

It was a nurse’s birthday, which explained the buzz and laughter coming from the staff’s kitchen.

-Oh, hey doctor.

You turned around to see whose voice was calling you. It was dr. Byeon, one of the older doctors. He was a nice old man, but didn’t talk much. Usually, the older doctors would have the that superiority complex, always saying they knew better. DR. Byeon, however, had faith in the next generations. He tried to teach the younger ones subtly, not wanting any credit.

-Dr. Byeon. – you bowed and smiled at the old man. –How are you doing today, sir?

He chuckled a little, probably not used to others going for small talk. That was a heavy energy place, but you tried to make the people around you feel more at ease. He liked that.

-I am doing just fine. In case you didn’t notice, I have a piece of cake I’m about to eat. – he giggled, happily looking at the chocolate cake in the plate he was holding. –There are fancier ones from big bakeries, but this one here was made by our beloved Nana. - He was referring to one of the most admired workers of the place, a sweet and kind old lady that worked at the kitchen since 30 years ago.

-Oh, don’t mind if I do. I’m with you on this one, sir. Nothing can beat our Nana’s baking, right?

Dr. Byeon smiled at your words, and then back to his cake.

-Well, I must go find some cake before it’s all gone. – you told him and he nodded.

-You should, sweetheart. There are a lot of delicious food there. Go eat it, I can see your bones! – he joked dramatically.

-Oh really? So you have X-Ray vision, sir? –you asked and both of you laughed.

-Alright, I’ll take something and leave because I have work soon.

-Yes, yes. – dr. Byeon nodded.

-It was very nice seeing you, doctor! –you walked away but after a couple of steps, he called your name once again. When you looked back, he started speaking again.

-There is something different about you lately. – he said.

You tilted your head to the side, trying to remember if you had a haircut or something visible. Maybe you were more tired than usual and your eye bags weren’t at all forgiving.

-Me? How so? I don’t think I have done anything unusual, my last haircut has a while ago.

-No, no. It’s not that. You are… glowing, one could say?

Your expression was clearly a confused one, so he snapped you out of any worries.

-Don’t worry, it’s a good thing! If anything, you look happy. – he waved a little and left you first. You stood there for a second, with nothing much to think.

It has to be a good thing, right?

Mingyu’s POV

As he heard the sound of the main door to the dorms open, he started to get out of his bed where he just took an afternoon nap, or at least tried. He knew his session would be happening soon, so sleep was out of question.

Mingyu knew that the sound meant the guard was coming to take him to you, which left a bittersweet sensation inside of him. Part of him was excited, like a kid about to open Christmas presents, because he knew that he would enter the room and you would be there, waiting for him. Sometimes, you were doodling on the last page of your notebook and closed it very quickly when they showed up. But your eyes would always find his first. You would greet the guards as well, but you would always look at him first. The other part of him, however, couldn’t stand still. He knew that you would start talking about his past and actions, but he also knew the answers were needed.

The thing is: Mingyu felt like such a fool. You wanted to see him happy because that was your job, but he wanted to see you happy because your smile was the most endearing thing he ever laid eyes on. Maybe it was all in his head and your eyes didn’t light up with his presence, but if in some universe it was true, he would be risking losing it. Of course, you knew how many people he killed, but hearing in details, knowing their names and stories might as well make you disgusted, and just the thought of losing the shine of your smile made him sick.

Or maybe… It’ll explain it all.

The corridor to your office was long, but there were a lot of entertaining things to see. There were other offices from other doctors and also different utility rooms, such as the game room, where the elders would play cards and board games, or the daycare, where the children of the employers would stay occasionally. It was a little weird to have that in a place with constant transit of handcuffed people, but he didn’t read too much into it.

When he finally arrived the thick metal door, there was that annoying screech he grew to enjoy, since it meant his session would start. Except that day, it almost made his heart jump out of his ribcage.

There you were, radiant as always. If not more.

This time, unlike others, when the guard approached to cuff him to the table, you stopped him.

-It’s okay, we won’t need it today. – you nodded politely to the guard, who only responded with a look that said something like ’suit yourself’’.

Mingyu’s heart once again beat alarmingly fast. You trusted he wouldn’t try anything, which he knew was true, but knowing that you believed it gave him a comforting warmth he hadn’t felt in a while.

He smiled in a silent ‘’thank you’’.

-I know we saw each other earlier today but I’d like to ask officially. How are you today? – you started as soon as the guards left.

-Honestly? I’m pretty nervous. – Mingyu knew there was no reason to deny it any further, so he chose to be straight forward.

-Hmm, and why is that? – you wrote something on the notebook, and it was one of the first times he was actually curious to know what it was.

-Last time our session was interrupted in a very crucial moment for me. And for you, I believe.

Mingyu was noticeably showing the relieve of being free of the cuffs, by making gestures and occasionally biting his nails.

-It was, it was… -you agreed and continued. –But are you okay to continue? Actually, to start?

With a dry throat and no idea of the right answer, he nodded.

-Where should I start? Will you ask me a specific question? – Mingyu asked and you perked an eyebrow.

-I could but… is there anything in particular you think I should know? – you leaned your elbows on the table and cradled your face in both hands, like a plead for a nugget. –If you only had a few seconds and sentences to explain what happened, what would you say?

Mingyu thought for a second. Sure, he wanted to see you happy, he wanted you to like him, but he didn’t really know what would be better. The truth, in his head, was crystal clear. But in yours, it could be read differently, or you simply wouldn’t believe. After pondering his options, he decided to tell you the truth. If anyone could understand it, it had to be you.

-I would say that I am not sick, troubled or crazy. I was faced with a situation that was basically a test to my patience. There was no mastermind planning to kill people for fun. It was only a moment of weakness that I regret very, very much. It was a risky move. The thing about being diagnosed ‘’crazy’’ is that no matter what you say next, will only make it worse, specially saying you’re okay. Maybe the majority of your patients would tell you they are not mentally ill, but there was this deep hope inside of him that you knew it was the truth. Something in your eyes made him believe that you saw the real boy sitting in front of you and that you would feel the truth to his words.

And every single bit of his sentence was true, specially the part about there not being mastermind behind the crimes. At least not for murder. That day, Mingyu told you his perspective of the story and could only pray you believed him, or else he might as well stop believing himself.

His childhood was no different from kids with rich families with secrets. He walked in angry phone calls and arguments when playing around the mansion he lived in as a kid, but since he was so young, nobody ever tried to distract him.

His relationship with his father wasn’t anything out of the usual. He was pretty busy and since his mother was no longer alive, Mingyu only had half of the parental attention, but this isn’t unusual.

At the age of five, Mingyu was too young to understand what happened to his father. The scene he walked in was devastating, but he only felt it in is instincts, that his father wasn’t okay. It took him some explanation, as well as you can explain to a child, but of course, with many excuses and holes he would only notice years later. By then, there were people making sure the story he would be telling later wouldn’t be validated.

Mingyu knew you were waiting for a story on how he planned the death of all those men. But the truth was: it wasn’t at all planned.

Even though Jeonghan knew he was the favorite son, it wasn’t enough for him. He never really liked the fact that he would always be the bastard and that would never change. Mingyu liked to have an uncle so close to his age. He and Jeonghan always played together as kids, but once Mingyu lost his father, they became closer, having more of a sibling relationship than anything. The boys had their discoveries and growth together, sharing everything. As they grew older, some stuff became a lot clearer. There were pieces of the story that wouldn’t fit, but they were now old enough to contest it.

The first thing Mingyu discovered was the abuse his father suffered from his grandfather. Even though he too was dead, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel betrayed, since he admired his grandfather with all his heart.

As time went by, Mingyu discovered more and more dirt on the family and their employers. They needed to find out which one of the sides was true, and if any of their doings and lies were justifiable. So they planned, not a murder, but a confrontation.

Mingyu and Jeonghan made sure all of the involved were invited to the gathering on the mansion, so they could force the truth out of them. That night, they would lock everyone in and start trying to solve the whole mess the family was involved in.

Mingyu and Jeonghan planned everything carefully. There would be a gathering at the mansion with all of the people involved somehow on the family scandal hidden up until then. So they made fancy invitations and made sure everything would go according to plan. The workers would be dismissed for the night and the guests would only be released once they confessed. It wasn’t anything out of the law technically. Unethical, maybe.

The day came and everything was ready to start. However, a few hours before the event, there was something that changed the entire course of the plan. Without telling Mingyu, Jeonghan hired a private investigator whose discoveries had been kept to himself until he found out the whole truth. But the detective chose to reveal it all in the night they would rip the truth from their mouth. Mingyu knew his family wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t think things would go that far.

The one Mingyu knew the most was his uncle Seokmin, who was relatively present in his life. Maybe it was the guilt for knowing how much Mingyu’s father suffered, since he was abused as well, both physically and mentally. That night, Mingyu realized the damage his grandfather caused: unlike his dad, Seokmin did not let himself lose the will to live. Instead, he turned the pain into something bad. The only thing he lost was his ability to care, and that is how he became the monster his father was. All the mess began with him, once he planned to murder his father to have his fortune. Also, deep down, to get his revenge. The only thing is: his father was killed before he could do it himself.

But his uncle wasn’t alone, and wasn’t the only one getting profit from the death of the president Kim Taesang.

At that point, Mingyu still thought the death of his grandfather had been an accident. Even though Seokmin wasn’t the one who killed him, he still intended to do so, except he lost his opportunity.

Kwon Soonyoung wouldn’t miss anything related to crimes, especially the ones involving corruption. A while back, the rumors that a coup was being set against the bSK board started to spread, and the reporter Kwon, of course, was there. There were a lot of suspects and too much money involved, which is why it was surprising that all of the sudden, Kwon Soonyoung stopped investigating. Back then, it wasn’t given that much attention, but giving the amount of effort Soonyoung would put in similar cases, it was extremely out of the ordinary.

Xu Minghao was the vice-president, and that made him one of the first suspects when the corruption scandal blew up. After a while, he managed to prove he wasn’t involved. That, however, was the only thing he was innocent from. The reasons why Minghao reached his position were far from noble, including a mountain of lies, blackmailing and other dirty doings. He wasn’t planning on steal the company per say, but he was guilty for throwing the dirt on the president, the dirt he planned himself. His relationship with Seokmin was good, better than the one he had with the president Kim. It would be a lot easier to take him down later so he had to make sure Seokmin took the spot. Minghao was too intelligent to simply plan a way to get rid of the president, so instead, he manipulated others to do his dirty work. He made sure Seokmin got the signs, being encouraged to dethrone his father. How would Seokmin get rid of the president? That didn’t matter to Minghao.

There were no innocent victims that night, but the person least deserving of his faith was the secretary Chwe. Chwe Hansol was a young man, who wasn’t too ambitious. He didn’t aim too high, yet, he didn’t want to lose what he already had.

Even though he started working for bSK at a very young age, he owned the trust and respect from president Kim. Eventually, Hansol was aware of what was happening and the abuse he used to cause his own sons. Hansol was also aware of the unethical ways bSK would profit, but kept silent about everything. So his destiny was set not by what he did, but what he didn’t do.

The plan was to find out what they had done to later decide what they would do about it. Except they now knew the story and, in a few hours, the men in question would be knocking on the door.

In the course of the next 43 minutes, hell broke loose between Kim Mingyu and Yoon Jeonghan. And that’s when it all started to go wrong.

Mingyu was telling the story looking at any flat surface, as if he was trying to visualize his memories in front of him. The words just spilled out of his mouth like they have been trapped for years. He was completely vulnerable as he shared the events of the worst night of his life. Most of the time, he kept his hands on his lap, circling his thumbs one around the other, again and again, sometimes, alternating the order. He sounded disappointed at himself, but somehow relieved. He considered the possibility of never telling the truth, because no one would believe him, and also, because of the guilt of saying it out loud and confirming to himself and to the world that he became a monster for a moment. And that moment would remain forever.

-What did you plan on doing when they got there? – you tried to sound calm and use the same tone you would in any situation and any ordinary topic. You needed him to feel like no matter what he said, you would not stop helping him.

-At first, when we first got the idea, we would corner them and try to force the truth out of them. Up until earlier that day, that was the plan. But Jeonghan’s news catch me by surprise. He was working with a private investigator called Lee Jihoon. This investigator found out all of the crimes committed by the company and their employers and sent it to Jeonghan. – you could see Mingyu getting more anxious, like he was circling the topic to finally reach the climax.

-Okay. What was the new plan? – you tried to hide the slight hesitation in your voice, showing confidence in your questionnaire.

-You know what it was. – the sentence itself was intimidating, but as Mingyu voiced it, it sounded nothing but embarrassing. And then he continued.

The night of the crime

-We have to call it off. Now that we know all of that, what are we supposed to say? All of that was planned so we could confront them, Jeonghan. What now? Shouldn’t we just leave it to the cops? – Mingyu was begging for his uncle who was sitting with his elbows on the arms of the chair, the tip of the big envelope touching his lips.

Jeonghan scoffed. –You are too naïve. Don’t you see? These people are bad, they have money and influence. What do you have? What do we have? The bastard and the crazy boy. What a great team.

-Crazy boy. That’s what you think of me? – Mingyu didn’t mean to sound as disappointed as he did.

-No, not at all. At least not me. Look, the little fucker I hired, Jihoon, - Jeonghan opened a smaller envelope that was on the top of the table. – he got his hands on your medical record. Wanna see it? – Mingyu wasn’t pleased with Jeonghan’s snobby tone but took the envelope from his hands.

The words written on it would stick to him forever. No matter what Mingyu said he saw, nobody would believe him. He was said to have multiple disorders and a person with no capacity to live without constant supervision. He was labeled as insane by the family doctor.

The moment Mingyu mentioned the name of Jeon Wonwoo, you curled your fingers inside the pocket of your coat. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to show emotions that were any different from the other names of the involved. It was a confusing feeling. A part of you thought, at first, that you would be secretly angry at Mingyu. At that point, you had no idea anymore. You were no longer afraid of it or him, but you were, to be honest, of your own feelings. Somehow and at some point it shifted all the way around. You wanted the closure to why Wonwoo was killed, but that moment, what you wanted the most was for Mingyu to give you a reason why he didn’t deserve to be there. You wanted not to be angry with Mingyu, but deep down you knew and it scared the shit out of you: no matter what he said, there was no way you wouldn’t be able to forgive him if I asked you once.

-I never understood why my family insisted on such a young doctor. When that guy was finishing med school, my family offered to help him pay his loans in exchange for him to work for them full time. The only answer to why is how easy it would be to manipulate him. The amount of money they would pay? He would do and say anything. Including invalidating me for the rest of the world. One word from him and pft. There goes my sanity. I could swear he needed to go through residency first before being able to diagnose me officially, but apparently there is a whole lot of shit that can’t be explained but can be bought.

You gulped as you listened. Mingyu was tired, was defeated. But he kept his chin up, continuing his story.

-But he wanted more. That’s when he formed some sort of alliance with my uncle and his attorney, Hong Jisoo, or Joshua, as he was known. The three of them had a plan, to poison my grandfather by using his simple sleeping medication mixed with another drug, making it lethal and easily looking like an accident. It would be pretty much undetected by exams, making it the perfect crime. But luckily for them, someone was faster. My grandfather died before they could kill him.

-How did your grandfather die, if I may ask?

-He was murdered. The amount of people wanting to kill you shall tell you the kind of person you are. That’s Kim Taesang for you.

-The prescriptions weren’t used. The drugs weren’t taken from the pharmacy. In fact, it wasn’t the same used to kill grandfather. They didn’t kill him, then who did? – Mingyu was still in shock about all the information, dizzy and blood pumping furiously on his chest.

-That means nothing. They could have changed their plan, change their method. I don’t care. And even if they didn’t kill him, they wanted to.

Mingyu wanted to believe Jeonghan had a point and he had the right to be angry, he really did. But it was too much information and so little time. They tried to place more than Mingyu could handle inside of him and there was no way it could end up well.

-Mingyu, you, me and my mother are the only people that could be called family. Now that my mother is gone, we only have each other. –Jeonghan was now hovering over Mingyu, who was sitting on the floor with his head on his hands. He was hyperventilating, crying and confused. –They are evil. They will keep doing those things if we don’t put a stop to it.

Mingyu raised his head and looked at Jeonghan with sad, red eyes.

-How do we stop them?

-That was one of the most frustrating things I ever felt. My uncle, my best friend. He was sitting there, trying to convince me that killing them was the right thing to do. And I was weak and agreed with him. No one would believe us. So we needed to do it fast.

You had too many questions you couldn’t ask, so you just let him keep talking.

-We would give them the same poison uncle Seokmin, dr. Wonwoo and Joshua would use on my grandfather. Only we would also take it, but a smaller dose, enough to put us to sleep for a few hours until the workers came back. We would give one of them an intermediate dose, so maybe he would survive and make the thing less suspicious, or so he would die in the hospital. It would be the secretary Hansol, probably. All of the confrontation went out the window. Instead, we just needed to make them thirsty.

-Thirsty? – you voiced and raised your eyebrow.

-Well, we put the drug on the water, so we needed all of them to drink willingly, in case there were survivors for some reason. We turned down the humidifier to make it extra dry inside and served spicy food.

-Oh, I see. But something went wrong, I suppose? I mean, your uncle Jeonghan died as well. Did you choose to kill him too? – there was a chance all of that story was bullshit and Mingyu killed them all after planning alone, trying to blame Jeonghan instead. But why would he only tell you in confidence? To manipulate you?

You needed more answers, so you waited.

-It wasn’t planned at all. I was nervous and scared and almost giving up. But they came in and I couldn’t back up anymore. If I told them the truth that moment, I would be locked up for good. So, guess who was there?

You shook your head ‘no’, waiting for him to say it.

-Lee Jihoon. – Mingyu sounded disappointed with himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. – That moment I realized Jeonghan already planned that before. He cornered me to agree with his plan because he needed help, and he gave me no time to tell anyone, that’s why he waited until only hours before the guests came. The investigator knew the whole story and he also knew Jeonghan was the one who hired him. When the news of their deaths showed up eventually, Jihoon would put two and two together. That was clear now. Jeonghan had planned that. – So I was ready to confront him when I overheard his conversation with Xu Minghao. He voiced clearly how much he despised my grandfather for lying about funding the payment for his mother medical treatment. He purposefully neglected her and it got her killed. The anger in his eyes got me thinking and I was almost sure Jeonghan was the one who killed my grandfather.

Mingyu took a deep breath and you knew he was about to tell you the crucial part of the story.

-I was a wreck, I had no idea how to fix that. If told everyone, I’m pretty sure Jeonghan would also make me look crazy. And then… then I saw it. Jeonghan was putting the mixture on my drink. Not the sleeping pills like he said he would. He couldn’t have any loose ends so he chose to kill me too. – a single tear slid down his cheek, followed by many others. His next sentence was messy and interrupted by hiccups as he started sobbing. –He was the only person I had, you know? And to see him trying to poison me, I mean… How could he do that? – he sniffed and rubbed his eyes like a child trying to stop crying. – At that moment I saw red. I completely blacked out from reality and I realized I had nothing left. So I changed our cups when he wasn’t looking and I watched him swallow his own venom.

You did the one thing you know you shouldn’t. Instead of handing him a tissue, you stood up and cradled him in your arms. He turned around instantly and wrapped his hands around you, burring his head on your chest. Why the fuck would I do that?

Seeing the state Mingyu was in opened a hole on the floor under your feet and you felt like your heart could burst at any second. To see the pain on that boy messed with your insides, making you throw your values out the barred window.

You kneeled on the floor next to him and dried a random tear falling from his eyes. You wanted to dry them all.

-I didn’t take my drink. – he said in a small voice.

You stood up and got back on your seat.

-I’m sorry?

-I didn’t do what Jeonghan planned. You know, to take a sleeping pill and pretend I was a survivor. – he looked deep inside your eyes. - Doctor, where would I go from there? I had no family. I had nothing and I knew nothing about life. I had no idea of what to do with my life and I knew I would never be able to forgive myself. I didn’t want the fortune, the presidency or whatever. I didn’t want to be alone and I lost the little I had. It was the wise choice to tell the truth. Well, most of it. So I hid some valuable objects in case I needed some money eventually and then I called the cops. It was awful. They treated me like an animal who didn’t understand human language. I didn’t bother telling anyone all of it and I expect you to keep it between us. No one will ever believe me, doctor, not even you I’m afraid. But I would never sleep properly again unless I trusted someone with this. So, thank you. I will lay me head on my pillow tonight and it will much, much lighter.

You heard him. You respected his secret and kept it with yourself. However, you didn’t promise him you would sit and wait. It was no longer about admiring him in a different way. Or maybe it was, maybe you were completely unprofessional and let yourself be manipulated, but either way, you made a decision not to stop until the world saw the Mingyu you saw.

It was a hard, a lot harder than you would ever think. It took three months for the board to keep track of Mingyu’s progress and your statements to finally get his case another trial. You had the help from an old time friend who was a lawyer, who walked you through the whole process. First, you stopped your sessions, putting Mingyu in a group therapy. You still talked on the garden where you would watch the humming birds. You tried not to tell him too much so he wouldn’t get his hopes up.

After four more months, his case was finally solved. Mingyu managed to open up to other doctors, realizing that yes, people might not believe you, but that shouldn’t keep you from telling the truth. He was being heard by other people, not only you, but that didn’t change the fact that it was you the one to wake that inside of him, the feeling that there was something for him out there, and that’s what he kept in mind as he walked away, finally free.

here comes the romantic ending, it’s completely optional though ♡

It was a lovely night, that one. It was only a few days after Mingyu’s discharge and you were over the moon. You knew you saved people from their own demons, but the feeling of bringing justice to Kim Mingyu was like nothing you ever felt before.

You could feel the night breeze coming from the windows and shaking the curtains, and watched as your cat played with a little plushy he was obsessed with. You were on your way to the bathroom to shower when someone knocked on your door.

Standing there, wearing a fluffy beige knit sweater was Mingyu. His smile was different, wider and more alive. Seeing him without the white uniform from the hospital was something else and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

-You look amazing. – the words slipped out of your lips before you realized.

-Thank you. – he gave you a cheeky, boyish smile. –I feel amazing. Although, there is something bothering me. I never got to say thank you.

-You don’t have to. I wish the world could apologize to you, though.

-Yah, stop saying nonsense. You have done more for me than the world. Just a little bit over a month you saw me and you trusted me. You listened to me in a human way, not only as a doctor. I used to believe that every day, but I tried to keep it real to myself. You were doing your job but… a part of me had hopes that you were seeing me. Me, not your patient. I would never cross that line before but I have to ask you.

-Ask me what? – your words were shaky, like the rest of your body. You were getting dizzy in the best way. It was like a childish, innocent feeling.

-Did you see me, for a moment, as anything other than a patient?

His eyes were wide, like his life depended on your answer.

-No, not for a moment. – his eyes fell to the floor, but before he could get too embarrassed, you continued, not realizing how bad the timing for the pause was. –Not one moment, but all of them.

That night, you shared your first kiss. In the moment his lips touched yours, you believe heaven has sent that man to you. You would never know if it was worth the trouble it could get you, the issues you would face and the way the world would look at it, at him, at you. All you knew was that Kim Mingyu had been mistreated by the world. He made a mistake, a big one that would never go away. He would still pay for it for a long time, but at that moment, the only thing he knew was that right there, by your side, he was finally feeling his place on the world, like he might actually deserve a chance to be happy.

-Won’t you lose your job because of me? – he asked, later that night.

-No. I mean, I’m not sure but… let’s not think about it now, okay?

-Okay. – he blinked a couple of times before closing his eyes and dozing off.

You asked for your vacation. You had three weeks and decided to do something different. By then, no one really knew about you and Mingyu going out. Even though you were early in the relationship, getting to know each other better, you were bonding more and more. It all happened fast, but you were not afraid, not even one bit. You came to learn that Mingyu wasn’t just a lost boy. He was an intelligent man who struggled a lot with his feelings, mostly because he didn’t feel like he was entitled to have a say on stuff.

You decided to go to the countryside with him. So both of you packed and drove all the way to the lodge you had been told about by a friend. It was in a smaller town, but still had a fair amount of buildings and stores, making it a very pleasing place to go around. The place you would be staying was a hostel owned by a couple in their 60’s. There were a few wooden cabins, two floor each with a smaller space on the top floor. The insides were cozy and warm, like the whole atmosphere of the moment. The wooden chair near the balcony on the top floor had a beautiful view to the lake nearby, with a stunning sunset.

-I could live here forever. –you said as you were about to fall asleep, your head buried on the crook of his neck, both of you under a blanket.

-Tell me about it. I don’t think I’m a city boy. This, right here, is heaven.

You had been staying there for a week and a half and you were pretty sure you weren’t leaving. You didn’t really have anything other than your job keeping you in the city, and you never felt more at ease than you had been in that small city.

You woke up and Mingyu was no longer in bed. Confused, you got out of the bed and went to the balcony. You were welcomed with the sight of the owner of the place showing Mingyu how to ride a tractor. He was laughing, happy. It was a genuine image, so special it almost rid of your head completely the image of the lonely boy in a prison uniform. That guy was still there, but he was blooming and that made your heart skip a beat.

You repeated to yourself silently.

I could live here forever.

2 YEARS LATER

Mingyu was still visiting doctors, going to therapy and being supervised by the local social workers. When he was done, he rushed to the construction utilities store he worked part time and rushed home to start his shift at the hostel. Mr. Jung, the owner, was very fond of Mingyu. The moment you and him both showed interest in moving to the city, he offered to help, showing everything around and offering Mingyu a job as a handyman in exchange for a place on a small cabin used by the eventual keepers, which he no longer needed. You moved after you found a job at the local hospital working with children in early stages of mental illness, wanting to prevent more kids from having their childhood traumas haunt them in the future.

Eventually, he found out about your relationship with Jeon Wonwoo. It wasn’t easy, it took a few days for him to process it all. Some part of him felt like you would wake up one day and realize you could never forgive him, but you made sure to remind him every day that you loved him with all your heart and that would never change.

It was already getting dark, but you probably were home already. Mingyu came home from the store and walked towards the little house he was now living. There were no maids, no luxury, nothing fancy. But there you were, playing with your cat and the now grown puppy you found abandoned in the road almost a year ago, sitting on the floor, legs crossed and the small dog jumping, trying to catch a toy in your hand. The way you would always run to him when you saw him coming home was enough to make Mingyu tear up. He felt all of the love he never got in his life in a single look, a single kiss, a single smile. He was happy, completely, entirely happy.

He knew he had done something bad. Still, Mingyu couldn’t help but wonder what amazing thing he could have possibly done to deserve to feel all of that love. It was dark once, but the clouds eventually disappeared and the sky was finally clear again. The blood moon was gone, but unlike the celestial event, it wouldn’t come back anytime soon.

a/n: that’s it! It’s a lot shorter than I thought it would be. Well, I kind of went through a dr. harleen quinzel vibe of ‘’she thought she was curing him but she was falling in love’’ in this, except mingyu is a good boy. I am very, VERY nervous to post but what the heck, let’s do this :D

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