#THE WAY HE MADE ME FEEL SICK FOR BEING TURNED ON BY HIS REPULSIVE ACTIONS OH GOD I NEED HIM TO DO THIS TO ME SO BAD

[sapphicwitch]

This is massively AU — but you guys were keen for a pregnant!Agatha/Rio fic, so I thought I would give it a go. Don’t come at me for timelines or logistics, I’m just a gay girl.

To love that never dies

Set: Salem Agatha/Rio. Magical conception.

How death gave Agatha life before taking him away.

‘But take a breath

And dance with death

My love cannot be turned’

Agatha was sitting at the foot of an oak tree when she felt the first kick—her son.

At that moment, she knew she was with child, and she instinctively knew it would be a boy. A son. He would inherit her hair, her eyes and her nose, but he would always carry her darkness.

A baby conceived between life and death.

Agatha felt her chest tighten, knowing his fate was sealed the moment she granted Rio access to her body.

As she reflected on that moment, Agatha realised she should have recognised what was going to happen the instant she felt Rio's dark heart beating only for her while she writhed and moaned, melting into a pile of amber leaves.

It felt as though she had sunk deep into the earth. In many ways, she had been laid to rest in a ritual meant only for parted souls as Rio consumed her entirely. And yet, despite holding death's hand, Agatha Harkness had never felt more alive.

The young witch sensed that something magical would arise from the encounter.

Months earlier, as she lay on the forest floor, she had narrowly escaped death while allowing Rio to make love to her.

They were entwined in the moss, connecting with the enigmatic green witch, just as the roots and spores had done for centuries below.

Agatha felt a deep sense of rightness in her actions, yet she knew that her mother, Evanora Harkness, would consider their union evil and repulsive. This act would have only served to heighten her mother’s shame and give her yet another reason to curse the day Agatha was born. Not that Evanora needed much of an excuse to resent her daughter. Agatha could feel that resentment weighing on her shoulders like a curse. Even in death, Evanora’s disdain lived on.

Agatha felt a wave of sickness at the thought. Her beautiful memories of being one with Rio, intertwined like vines, were tarnished by the shame she felt for what she had done, despite her needs and feelings.

Her mother’s judgment and harsh words stung deeply. As she tried to push her mother’s voice from her mind, she recalled how beautiful Rio looked as she emerged from the trees, as if she truly belonged there. She did belong. With a hood of green framing her face and dark eyes piercing into her like daggers to Agatha’s heart, for the first time, Agatha felt something other than indifference. She felt alive.

As Agatha allowed the pleasant memory of holding death's hand in hers to resurface, Rio suddenly appeared before her, as if summoned. Gently, she placed her hand on the roundness beneath Agatha's clothing, causing Agatha to gasp at the touch.

Rio understood the risk of being so close to the woman who had set her free, especially considering what had happened the last time they had made contact. It could interfere with her responsibilities, but she didn't care. Even those bound by duty had desires that needed to be acted upon, despite disaster etched in destiny.

For now, it felt real. It was real. Rio smiled as she felt their son kicking in rhythm with Agatha's yearning heartbeat.

“The boy is ours.”

Agatha nodded at Rio’s directness, softening at her touch.

Nicholas was their son.

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

The hot coffee is quick to catch in his throat and he coughs loudly at the sudden answer, his hand pounding his chest twice so he can get the shitty drink down into his stomach. "Marr-" He coughs again, unable to really wrap his head around it all - hadn't she only just began speaking to Lee Sin about all of this? It was a little fast after only just revealing that they were officially a couple. Ohh his heart. Ohh his stress. His sick days looked more and more delicious with every passing day, didn't they? Maybe he should tell Danny that they need to move across the country--

"Holy shit."

He watches her steadily as his fingers come to pinch the area between his brows. The advil he took has done absolutely nothing for his headache and this is not helping either. Although the way she whined and whimpered made his lip curl in repulsion, the pathetic display was enough to make him sick. "I don't think you had much of a choice in that, Miss Evelynn, time is cruel to all of us, yes?" Robin's voice remained steady despite the inward annoyance he was feeling towards all of this, particularly when Danny was mentioned.

"I would ask him. I plan to, soon, actually. I don't want either of our families involved if I can help it." A pause as he turns the topic around once more back on track, "I do think asking so quickly after you only just spoke to Lee about dating her would raise red flags. People...or creatures, aren't necessarily something you can just lay claim over, I can understand why Lee would be hurt. Even as your assistant, you've only just revealed to her your true nature, and have only just told her that you love her. Being in love is a decision, not the natural culmination of a long-term relationship.  It's something that you're a part of. You're a member of a two-person team, and like any team, the best ones have an implicit trust and understanding between the members. Can you guarantee that you'll be able to be honest with her always, even after it took so long to be this time around? That this pain you're feeling - that you'll be able to go through this over and over again as long as she is with you? It isn't...a fairytale. Nothing changes by saying it, by being married...nothing."

He is unable to stop the way his mind drifts to Danny.

"Most days will be average, they've become such an ingrained part of your life that its normal to go over everything with them. Some days will be full of frustration and anger, and some days will be like you've found everything you've ever wanted. Even without a ring, even without a piece of paper or a courthouse or anything like that, being in love is saying to yourself, "There are many uncertainties in life but one thing I am completely certain of is THIS person and I want to face ALL of the shit life has to offer with THEM until I die."" He doesn't realize how he fidgets with his fingers.

"A single "I love you" does not make a marriage, it doesn't make anything - it is just a statement of your feelings. Your actions from that point on, your love for them, that is all that matters. You sitting here...wallowing because 1 thing went wrong tells me that no, you aren't ready to marry her yet. This....self pity that you're feeling is something you need to take in stride and move on from, your relationship isn't over-- and being so upset by a single thing, to the point where you wonder if having these feelings is worth it, spells it out clear as day to me that you aren't ready, as much as you want to be." He sips his coffee, "I can guarantee you that Lee Sin disapproving will be a minor problem in the long term, what will you do when things worsen or Miss Akali and you get into a fight? Will you be so willing to throw away your humanity then too?"

....

"I think, maybe...you need to focus on being in love rather than the idea of having her forever. As of now...this reads as you being in love with the idea of love, of being loved back, but that isn't what will make you happy."

"Marriage."

She jumps to the point, because there's no reason in sugar coating it. Evelynn isn't entirely a fool, and perhaps just in that moment she was. Her head drops with a heavy sigh, not minding the rather loud thud it makes with the table. It's nothing to the ache that already resides within.

"I already know it was of ill nature," she comments, mostly into the table and hardly audible. "Humane desires can be so silly --" sitting up, she takes another breath and winces. "To want to be happy, just once. Relations -- familial, they're lost on me."

A pout, she really does look pathetic right now. "I cannot help but think sometimes; would I be better off not accepting these very emotions? To live as I did those eons ago without a care?" Rhetorical, because she knows eventually she wouldn't have been able to avoid it any longer. "How would you ask -- well, I don't even know about Danny's family."

She hisses as her brows furrow. "I.. think I need to feed soon."

[plush-rabbit]

The Perverse Angel and His Wicked Thoughts

Direct Continuation to Divinity in Impurity

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Please forgive me for the awful title. I just had no idea how/what else to title it

-

Simeon never knew what true anxiety felt like until he’s back standing in front of your door. His knees feel weak, his heart beating against his chest, echoing and shattering his ribs into sharp pieces that cut into his skin and make him choke on his own blood. His breath is shallow and when he knocks against the wood, you’re quirk to open the door with a smile on your face. You let him enter your room with a wave and a smile, quickly going in for a hug when he’s inside, letting the door click close behind the both of you.

Stepping inside of your room, he’s acutely aware of everything that goes on inside, the way that your scent is heavy in the air, consuming every object, how you walk so freely without a care, trusting him with your safety, knowing that he would never do anything so harmful and perverted to you. Blood is bitter on his tongue, his teeth piercing against the insides of his cheeks when he accidently bites a bit too hard. He hisses, a hand wavering to cup his cheek but he falters, repulsed by his bare hand. And yet, you’re quick to come to his aid, worry in your eyes and your lips parted asking if he’s okay. Your touch is warm, different from his own and he jumps at your contact, stepping around you to walk and sit on your bed. He can’t bear to feel your touch, not when he just did something so awful- so grotesque and perverted.

The bed dips under his weight, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip and his eyes are glued on your figure, sweat beading at his forehead as you walk towards. He sits on your bed, his hands shaky and when you question his nervousness, he waves it off. It’s nothing- really, don’t pressure him. Guilt has started to eat him, sinking its teeth into his skin and while he can’t look at you, you make no comment about it, sitting beside him, your legs seated under you.

You hand cups over his and he lets his head fall, his muscles tense as you call his name. His hand goes rigid, and while you hold the top of his hand, your fingers slip between the spaces of his and you hold tightly to his hand while he just sits there.

“Simeon,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze, “can you look at me?”

Something catches in his throat, his lungs devoid of air, deflating into nothing as he shakes his head. His lips are pulled thin, any breath that he tries to take is through his nose, a deep inhale that is shakily released through his parted lips. How could he ever look at you when he did what he did? How could he even allow you to hold his hand? It’s his own deviance that clutches around his chest and drags him further into the dark pool that is his sin.

“Is this about what you saw?” Your voice is gentle, concern and puzzlement laced into your words as your knee bumps against his. “Sim, I told you that it was okay.” He can hear the smile, reassuring that what he saw wasn’t anything bad but you don’t know what he did. His legs begin to bounce, shaking the bed and his lips grow dry. “You don’t have to feel guilty over it. I should have told you that I was changing or even locked the door.” A playful chuckle fills the room and when he remains unresponsive, your hand slowly uncurls and slips away.

His hand is left cold and empty, a foreign feeling that he does not welcome. Quickly, his other hand clasps over yours, trapping it against his wrist. He takes shaky breaths, his chest wavering with every inhale and exhale. With your hand under his, he shakes, and releases his hand from you, apologizing under his breath. Immediately, he misses the feel of your hand.

You take in a sharp inhale, your shoulders slumping and his heart drops. You’ve allowed him to enter your room, you held his hand and yet, he’s here, with his innocence tainted and forever blemished by his actions. “Simeon-”

“I- I’m so sorry.” He covers his face with his hands, and he recoils away from his touch. His teeth are gritted and he turns to you, his brows wrinkling his face and he wonders how pathetic he looks to you. “I- I’m so sorry,” he repeats, his voice breaking and his stomach twists into tight knots.

Instead of disgust, you smile sadly at him, your hands coming out to hold the hand that he had used to masturbate to you. He wonders if you’d turn away from him, if you’d wipe your hand from his touch, if you knew what he had done.

The look that you give him is enough to make a storm of butterflies form in his stomach. “I already told you-”

Acid bubbles in his throat, burning and making it harder to breathe with every passing second. He doesn’t want to lose the friendship that he has with you, but he can’t live with himself if he doesn’t tell you. A prayer starts to form, a simple thought that is burst with judgement on him. Your words are distant and he isn’t sure what you’re saying, he can’t hear you but he can see and feel you. He can see your smile, how your eyes dart to the door and the soft feel of your hand. He feels as if he’s being choked, a tight grip around throat has tears brimming in his eyes. He wonders how much of himself is clouded from the eyes of God. He feels too much, his worry and guilt bubbling over that leaves him feeling exposed. “I masturbated to you.” There’s a pause in the room, your eyes blinking owlishly as you try to comprehend the words. “I- I’m sorry,” he mutters, looking at the floor, leaning away from you but he still lets his hand be held in yours. Shock settles as the words have filled the room, slowly filling your mind. “I-” He deflates and stops talking.

Neither of you speak for some time, words clutched at your heart and his stuck on his throat. He wishes he could take back the words, but he can’t deny the sweet relief that he felt when he confessed. Your hand slowly pulls away and he wants to cry and collapse onto his knees, begging for forgiveness.

“You-” you start, pursing your lips together- “You masturbated to me?” He nods, believing that he is unworthy to even speak to you after what he did. “Before you came- Er, When you arrived the first time to my room?”

He supposes he deserves the questioning and the sick feeling that settles in his stomach. “When- When I saw you I had fled and when I arrived at my room, I- I had-” He fits back a sob. He’s never felt so dirty.

“Simmy,” your voice is calm, and your hands return to him. Hsi eyes are wide and without knowing what’s going on, you pull him close to your chest, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your hands curl over the back of his head, cradling him gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart; don’t cry.” Your kindness only makes him sob, his body shaking and his hands, as dirty as they are, clutch to the back of your shirt. “You- It’s fine. You don’t have to feel bad or anything. I mean-” you shift under him and he fears that it’s discomfort and rejection, so he clutches tighter at you and pushes himself further into you. “Sh,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. Just relax, okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, turning his head, his breath hot against your neck. “I- I was weak. Please forgive me.” You smell sweet, the overlapping of your cream invades his senses but underneath, he can smell you, your scent that calls out to him and it only makes him want to cling tighter to you. He doesn’t want to separate himself from your embrace even if it's something out of pity. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Simmy,” you say softly, rocking him gently in your arms. “You’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, I’m-” you let out a laugh, it’s short and humorless- “I’m actually a bit er- honoured? No, flattered.” His eyes widen and he pulls away from you, tears streak against his cheeks and he looks at you with wide eyes. Your body shifts under his gaze and you force yourself to look at him. “I think it’s kind of sweet actually. Well, not sweet, but hot?” You give him a smile, and while it doesn’t reach your eyes, he knows that it isn’t something bitter. “I kind of assumed you hadn’t felt anything to me and well, while masturbating isn’t a confirmation of feelings, I’m flattered that you find me attractive enough to jerk off at the thought of me.” You swallow nervously and you look away from him. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

“No!” He says, holding your hands in his. “I- How could I not find you attractive? I- You’re the only human- the only being who ever made me feel so- so-” his hand clutches over where his heart would rest, twisting the fabric in his hands- “so alive,” he breathes out. “When I’m with you, I feel as if I never want to be apart from you. I would be a fool to not find you attractive, to not see your beauty and want you as you are. Here I am, the angel that is meant to remain pure and yet I was tempted by someone-” his knuckles brush against your cheek, curving at your bone and gliding down until they reach the corners of your lips- “and I’d do it all over again if it meant that you would even have an ounce of happiness.” He lets his hand fall, smiling at you, with fondness. “I am nothing more than your angel.” He bows his head slightly, bringing your hand to his lips, letting your knuckles grace him with your touch.

“A knight in shining armor,” you muse, your hand falling under his chin and pushing gently to have him look at you. He meets your eyes with readiness to accept whatever it is you want, ready to follow your commands. While he has no contract that binds him to you, he’d do whatever you would want of him. You accepted him and his secret, the least he could do is bow before you.

Your smile twitches for a moment, faltering for a second and he frowns. His eyes never leave your face, watching your expression change, slowly morphing into a curious look that has him leaning his body close to yours. He watches as your tongue peeks to wet your lips, the soft, pink muscle teasing him and with his thoughts safe in your room and with you, he wonders how your tongue would feel in his mouth, how it would feel if it were against his body and curled around his burning skin.

“Simeon?” He gives a curt nod in your direction, listening and clinging to your every word. “Can you show me?” His blood runs cold at the immediate understandment of your words. His heart races, pumping his angelic blood through his body and with a heavy heart, he can feel the familiar and yet alien feeling of his member throb under the confines of his pants. “I wanna see how you touched yourself.”

Limbs bump into each other, your hands leaving a trail of goosebumps as you move against him. He isn’t sure how he's gotten to lay against your pillows with his pants past his thighs and his cock already half erect. His breath hangs heavy in the room, his chest taking deep slow breaths as he watches his own hand circle around his cock. He can feel your eyes on him, how you watch his every move with an unblinking gaze, entranced by the angel who remains partially dressed. His mouth is dry and he lets his hand take a shaky stroke against himself, letting out a whine at the feeling. It isn’t pleasurable but it isn’t horrible either. It’s just a touch. He wants to make it a show, but he’s so new to this, so inexperienced and while your human curiosity is taking over, leaning onto him, he can’t do much more than stare at his cock that beads with pearls.

“I- I need help,” he mutters. “It feels so new, so alien to touch myself. I’m-”

You cut his words off with a kiss, your body moving to rest above his, your weight pressing down on him. His cock hardens, pulsing in his hand and with a jerky motion, he proceeds to touch himself. Your tongue enters his mouth and he greedily sucks on it, pushing himself upwards to deepen the kiss, working his hand in a similar motion. The tight feeling in his stomach returns, quicker and tighter than before. Your hand glides to his chest, slipping under his shirt and thumbing around his nipple, humming into his mouth when he hardens under your touch. You pull away with spit covered lips, your eyes glazed over with honeyed lust, smiling down at him and kissing at neck, suckling softly, letting your teeth pinch at his skin.

The feels are all so new to him, and he’s moaning under you, whining and jerking his hips upwards. “Come on Simeon,” you whisper against his skin, “go a little bit faster, Let me see how you treated yourself when you jerked off to me.” You sit above him, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs under his bottom lip. “Am I the first person you’ve ever jerked off to?” he lets out a pained whimper, nodding his head to the best of his ability without shaking you off. “Use your words,” you advise, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his temple. “I want to hear all the perverted details.”

“Yes,” he croaks out, his leg bumping upwards as his high slowly approaches. “I-” his lips press into a thin line as he tries to muffle his moans- “I hadn’t touched myself before. I thought of you and your body, I thought about how you’d feel- how different your hands would feel compared to mine.”

“If you’re a good boy and finish, I’ll be sure to pleasure you.” Your smile is coquettish, your tone sultry as you grab his arm, and let the hand that had been clutching the covers curve over your chest. “When I called you, were you busy touching yourself?”

“Yes,” he breathes out, “I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to hear you call my name. Even now, I’m surprised that you’re doing so much for me, touching me and not- and not-” his voice tightens, tears brimming against his eyes- “not finding me repulsive. I- I- You were my first, The first that I had ever felt such feeling for. Please, I beg of you, kiss me again. I want to kiss you and make sure that this is all real and not some sick, perverse dream that I had come up with. That if I fall, if I lose my wings, at least I’ll have kissed you before that.” Tears fall, and he can feel the pressure building, so close to spilling over and the tight rope in his stomach threatening to snap.

“Oh Simeon,” you coo, your smile bittersweet. Your head shakes softly, your hands smoothing back his hair and cupping his face. “I’ll stand beside you no matter what, sweetheart. I could never turn away from you.” Your lips press against his and with your confession, he releases, moaning and moving his free hand to hold your back as he shakes under you.

His seed paints his hand and thighs in white ropes. Tears stain the kiss,and when you pull away, he whines, missing the contact. You move off of him and he wants to cry, moving to nuzzle into your chest. His hand sticks to the back of your shirt, sullying you in his seed as he cock lays between him and you, nestled against your sex. He shakes, the afterglow making him so sensitive to touch that even your hand playing with the ends of his hair has him and letting out shaky breaths. His chest feels light, full of air and your scent, his ears hearing your heart beat erratically- whatever facade you had about staying calm and playful as he pleasured himself was only that, a facade. You kiss the top of his head and promise that when he’s calmed down, you’ll fulfill your promise of touching him. He nods his head, trying to steady himself, desperate to feel your hands against his virgin cock.

[sunflowerdarlingx]

would u write a bill weasley 18+ where the reader lets bill “use” them at the full moon ?

“Innocent angel”

Hi <3 I hope this is okay! 

Female Reader 

Warnings: fingering, oral (female and male recieving), unprotected sex, mention of male masturbation.

Minors DNI

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

The time leading up to each full moon was always different for Bill. He was still getting used to the incredibly difficult change that occurred and, unlike Remus, he still had a lot to experience. 

The full moon was in two days, Bill and Y/N were currently making their way into the order headquarters. Bill hadn’t been able to keep his hands off Y/N, from simply holding her hand, to passionate lust filled kisses but he never went any further. This confused Y/N because the two weren’t strangers to sex, especially during the full moon. Usually Bill loved nothing more than filling her with his cum, but now the second things got too heated he would stop and excuse himself. 

Usually the 5 days leading up to the full moon would be spent locked away together. Bill would get quite possessive in those five days and would keep Y/N close and remind her who she belonged to. 

Y/N went over to speak to Tonks and Remus but Bill pulled her back, “Where do you think you’re going?” he said lowly in her ear. 

“Just going to say hi, ask how Remus is with the full moon coming up” she smiled sweetly at Bill, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“No.” his blunt tone shocked Y/N as he pulled her to sit on his lap on one of the kitchen chairs. 

“What do you mean no?” she shifted in the seat slightly, her arse grinding over his clothes cock briefly.

“I mean no. You’ll sit here with me and then we will go home. Your scent alone is driving me mad already baby, don’t need the stenches of other people on you.” Bill's arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist anchoring her to his lap. 

As the meeting went on Y/N kept shifting her hips so she could look at each order member as they spoke. “Watch it” he hissed in her ear as Mad-eye spoke, Y/N looked at him confused before Bill pressed her hips back slightly, the feeling of his hard cock pressed against her arse. 

Her innocent eyes looked back at him, “sorry” she whispered before turning back around. She continued listening, this time only turning her head rather than her whole upper body. 

After the meeting ended, Molly served some dinner for everyone. Y/N was still sitting on Bill’s lap, “Y/N dear sit beside Fred, you can’t be comfortable” Molly’s voice rang throughout the small kitchen. 

Y/N went to stand up but Bill gave her waist a tight squeeze. “I’m okay Molly, thank you though”, Mrs Weasley shrugged her shoulders and went back to her conversation with Arthur. 

Y/N shifted her hips slightly, starting to feel uncomfortable with the way Bill's knee dug into hers. “You’re playing a dangerous game angel” his lips were close to her ear as he pushed her hair over to one side, “careful” he placed an innocent kiss to her neck. 

“What if I don’t want to be careful?”, she turned in his lap so both of her legs dangled over the side of his thigh. She watched him carefully as his eyes darkened slightly and a smirk painted his features. 

“Time for us to get going” he announced, tearing his eyes away from his girlfriend to say thanks and goodbye to everyone. He kept his hand on her lower back as they walked out of the house and down the street to the alleyway where they could apparate back to their home. 

The second their feet landed in their shared home, Bill had Y/N pressed against the wall of their living room while his lips worked feverishly against hers. Y/N’s hands wrapped in his hair, tugging slightly at the hair on the nape of his neck. Bill wrapped one of her legs around his waist and tapped her arse lightly, making her jump up so he could lift her against the wall.

Y/N’s hips rolled against his as muffled moans escaped her mouth into their kiss, the feeling of her against him was driving Bill mad. His hands gripped her arse tightly, he moved to sit on the couch. Y/N’s hips rolled against his, her lips moving to kiss down his neck, Bill's hand came down on her arse “such a tease during the meeting”. A little yelp left Y/N’s lips at the contact before she moved her lips back to his. 

This time Bill barely kissed back, his hands moved from her arse to her waist and moved her to sit beside him. Y/N’s eyes went wide as she looked over at Bill, his hair was a mess, lips red and he had this hazy look in his eyes that made Y/N’s panties dampen even more. “What are you doing?” she questioned, trying to pull him close again. 

“N..nothing, just forgot I have some stuff to do, I’ll start dinner in a bit”, he kissed her forehead quickly before making his way upstairs. 

Y/N sat confused and a little hurt by his actions. She was needy and confused. Her mind started to wander and the thought of Bill not fancying her in that way filled her head. Her insecurities took over every thought she had, a small tear rolled down her cheek but her sadness was soon replaced by anger. 

How dare he do this to her. How dare he tease her and act like he wants her, only to drop her. 

She stood up, storming up the stairs, ready to confront her fiance about his actions. She got to the top of the stairs and stopped dead in her tracks. She stood outside their door and could hear Bill moaning and grunting to himself. 

Her heart dropped, the thought of Bill excusing himself to go and sort himself out whilst thinking of another girl made her feel sick. 

So he had found someone better. 

“Y/N...fuck” 

Her ears perked up at the sound of her name. 

“Shit...baby feels so good”

Y/N pushed their door open slightly, Bill had his back to her, his hand pumping his cock while he moaned and groaned her name. 

“So what? Fucking your hand is better than fucking your own girlfriend!” she shouted a lot louder than she intended to. Bill jumped slightly at the sound, making quick work of putting his cock back in his pants. 

“Fuck Y/N, it’s not like that, I promise” he quickly moved over to her and tried to pull her in for a hug. 

“No Bill, what the fuck was that? All you do now is start something up between us and then fuck off! Constant teasing and touches but nothing more! Is that what you've been doing the last few nights? Leaving me to go and wank?”

He nodded his head and looked at the floor, “why would you do that Bill? D..do you not enjoy having sex with me anymore?” her voice was a lot lower now as she looked at him, desperate to understand the situation. 

“The full moon is close, day after tomorrow” his statement made Y/N scoff. 

“Yeah no shit sherlock, but what’s that got to do with it? Normally you can’t get enough of me, especially at the full moon but now it’s like the thought of sex repulses you!” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbled. 

“Hurt me? When have you ever hurt me during sex?” she walked over to him and made him look at her. 

“Full moon is different. You’re too innocent, my little angel, don’t wanna hurt you. All I can think about is fucking you, ruining you, wrecking that tight littl cunt with my cock. You yelped at the feeling of me smacking your arse, if I had my way, I’d go even harder”. 

A laugh left the girls mouth, “you're joking right?”.

Bill looked at her and shook his head, “I don’t want to hurt you”.

“Bill, just because I let out a little yelp doesn’t mean it hurt, i just got a surprise, trust me you’d know if you hurt me” she took his hand in hers and led him to the bed, “we have a safe word and signal for a reason”. 

She pushed him down onto the bed straddled his waist again, “just want to make you feel good” she started to kiss his neck, sucking the spot below his ear, earning a low groan. “‘M all yours” she kissed up his jaw “Do whatever you want to me” her lips met his in a short kiss “I trust you Bill”. 

Bill wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a messy passionate kiss, “promise you’ll tell me to stop if it gets too much?” he mumbled into their kiss before pulling back to take her shirt off. 

“Promise” her hands went behind her to take off her bra and Bill slid his shirt over his head. He turned them over so she lay on the bed, his lips went straight to her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin until it was decorated with purple little splotches. 

His lips latched on to suck at her nipples, his tongue teasing while his hand rolled the other between his fingertips. “Mhmm Bill” Y/Ns hands ran through his hair, chest arching slightly at the contact. He peppered kisses down her stomach and stopped above the waistband of her leggings. He ripped them off along with her underwear, “fuck baby, look so pretty for me”. 

He licked from her slit to her clit, mouth latching on to the small bundle of nerves, sucking it while his fingers teased her entrance. Loud moans filled the room as Y/n’s hips bucked, her hands tangled in Bill’s hair to pull him closer. He slipped two fingers into her dripping cunt, curling them slightly, as his other hand came to her waist to hold her against the mattress. 

“Fuck Bill, ‘m close” she whined, her walls clenched around his fingers as they worked faster inside her, “Cum” he demanded. The coil inside Y/N snapped and she came over his fingers, Bill lapped at her pussy, cleaning up every drop before inserting his fingers in her again. 

“Ah...shit Bill” her eyes rolled back, the feeling of his fingers in her cunt being a bit too much but pleasure soon took over and her second orgasm hit her like lightning, her whole body shaking as the waves of pleasure pulsated through her body. 

Bill still made no effort to move away from her, this time his tongue made its way to her entrance, tongue driving in and out like his life depended on it. Y/Ns hands tried to push his head away but he grabbed both of her hands and held them against her waist. He looked up at her through hooded eyelids, all he wanted to do was taste her, her head was thrown back against their pillows, mouth open while pleading moans to cum left her mouth. His thumb came to rub her clit and she felt as though her body was on fire, her juices squirting against him, a smirk grew on his face as he pulled back to watch her walls clench around air. 

“Such a good girl” he cooed before standing up. Y/Ns chest heaved as she calmed down, her legs feeling numb from her three orgasms. His hands wrapped around her ankles and pulled her to the end of the bed, “on your knees”. 

He pulled down his trousers and watched as Y/N lowered onto the floor, a small whimper leaving her mouth at the feeling in her legs. “Open up angel” he wrapped his hands around her hair and yanked her head back, she parted her lips and placed her hands on his thighs. 

Bill guided his tip into her mouth, starting to thrust his hips forward so it reached the back of her throat. Y/N gagged slightly but pulled Bill towards her as encouragement to keep going. His hips bucked as he started to fuck her mouth, his cock disappearing between her pretty lips. Her eyes watered while spit coated her chin and cheeks. “Take my cock so fucking good” Bill groweled while he held his cock deep in her mouth. Her nose rested at the base, tears streamed down her face while her fingers gripped onto her thighs. 

Bill pulled his hips back, giving her a moment to catch her breath before thrusting his cock back in. Her jaw went slack as Bill took full control of her mouth. “Gonna cum angel” his warning was short as his cum coated her throat. She swallowed it all, eyes looking up at him through her lashes. The look had his cock solid again in a heartbeat. 

He lifted her back onto the bed and flipped her onto her stomach, his cock was still coated in her saliva, he ran the tip up her slit before thrusting inside her.

His hands came to her waist, holding her up while he set an animalistic pace. She could feel the bruises forming in the moment, his tight grip felt incredible. She screamed his name while her hands gripped the sheets, “feels so good” she whined. Her body jolted with each thrust, the speed and depth of his thrusts bringing her closer to her high. He could feel her tight cunt pulsate around him. 

“Gonna cum for me again angel? All over my cock” 

“Fuck yes” she screamed, cumming again for the fourth time. Her body went limp, unable to provide herself with any support. His hips slowed but needy begs for more left her mouth. 

“Such a needy thing” he smirked, pulling her body to his while he fucked her. Bill felt himself getting close, Y/N was quick to reach her high again, her pussy sensitive from her prior orgasms. His thumb rubbed lazily on her clit. Tears streamed down her face from the pleasure, her body shaking against him as she came, Bills cum filling her up.

He lay her gently on the bed, quickly casting a cleaning charm. He lay in bed beside her and pulled her close, “was that okay?” his hand combed through her hair. 

“You’ve been holding back on me Mr Weasley” she teased “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had”. A small laugh escaped his lips as he placed a loving kiss to her forehead. 

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

Masterlist 

[mionemymind]

Chapter 1: Code 10-15

Favorite Crime

Series Summary: Y/n L/n, daughter of the villainous group, “The Gisbourne”. They’re known to do the cruelest things around the world in order to get what they want. In order to stray away from her family, Y/n is the founder and sole member of the vigilante group, “The Robins”. She does what she can in order to assist those in need of help in New York City.

However, what happens when the Avengers are tasked with finally defeating the Gisbournes? What happens when they use their newest member, Wanda Maximoff, to get to the black sheep of the family? What happens if they both fall in love? But what if it was all a mission to Wanda? 

A/n: This story is told through different splices of Y/n and Wanda’s story. Italics are generally flashbacks. And be sure to read the lyrics of the story. It’s not in the same order as the original song but this is purposely done :) (Not my GIF) 

Warnings: Betrayal, angst, cursing, happy ending 

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist

Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Bonus

Know that I loved you so bad I let you treat me like that I was your willing accomplice, honey

“Guys, let me introduce you to our newest member of the team, Wanda Maximoff.” Heads turned as the brunette timidly walked into the room. She fiddled with her hands as she shyly mumbled a quick hello to the intimidating crowd. It was Natasha that broke the silence first. “Welcome to the team, Wanda.”

Soon introductions happened but Wanda had yet to say anything else. All she could focus on was trying her best to not read their thoughts. It seemed that Natasha was the easiest to sit by since her thoughts were surprisingly quiet. She found Tony and Thor to be the loudest while Bucky’s felt a little...damaged.

Nonetheless, Steve excused the two as he led Wanda to her new room. Opening the door for her, Wanda found herself to be in a spotless and minimalistic room. The colors were on the grayscale and everything smelled and looked brand new.

“Here’s your room.” Wanda walked in, enjoying the fact that she can finally have something of her own. But considering who she was living with, she felt a little overwhelmed at the possibility of the bed itself being worth more than her childhood home.

“Everything in here can accommodate your needs just as long as you know how to work one of these,” Steve said as he held up a small tablet for the room controls. Wanda laughed a little and jokingly asked, “Are you telling me you don’t?” Her voice was strongly laced with her Sokovian accent, which was something Wanda lightly cursed herself about.

This was a change. This was new. This was a place she could start a new page and maybe even a new Wanda.

Steve slightly blushed as he scratched the back of his neck. He placed the tablet back on the nightstand and said, “Well...let’s just say I’m not one with the current times.”

“So, an old soul?”

“You could say that.” Slowly backing to the door, Steve held on to the handle and said, “But, I’ll give you time to adjust. Also, before I forget, we have a talking robot in the building. So if you hear a very smart alek voice, that’s just the robot.”

Steve gave Wanda a comforting smile before closing the door. Looking around once more, Wanda noticed that she had her own flat screen in the room. There was a desk in the corner as well as two various doors. Going through them, one door led to her own luxurious bathroom and the other led to her own walk-in closet.

Wanda walked back into the main room and saw that she had glass doors leading to the balcony. Pulled in by the breathtaking view, Wanda slid out to the balcony and watched the scenery in front of her. It was night time yet New York felt as lively as the morning. “This really is the city that never sleeps.” And as Wanda continued to watch, she could only hope that this was the new beginning she needed.

“So you’ve been here a couple of months,” Clint stated as he and Wanda finished their training session. “How do you feel?” He tossed Wanda a towel which she caught with ease. While wiping the sweat off her face, she responded with, “I feel good.”

It was an obvious lie yet Clint didn’t manage to catch it. And if he did, he would’ve figured it was the nervousness talking. However, Wanda couldn’t help but think that she’s never felt so lonely till now.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Clint picked up the various items they used for training and started to place them back in their original places. “Heads up, I think Steve is going to give you your first big mission.”

Wanda was putting back the weights when she said, “Really?” For the first few months, she’s been shadowing the other Avengers during their missions. Sometimes they would ask for Wanda’s opinion on how she would have handled the situation and other times she would just watch.

“Yeah. The team is impressed. You learn really quickly.”

“I don’t want to let anybody down.” It was rather late for it because Wanda already felt like she let herself down.

“You won’t. I know you won’t.”

Looking down at the file given to her, Wanda first noticed how young the girl looked in the picture. There were tiny scars on her face but none looked prominent. The thing that pulled in the most was her alluring eyes. They appeared soft at first but Wanda had a feeling there was more to those tired eyes.

“So, her name is Y/n L/n and my mission is to get close to her?” Wanda asked. She couldn’t really wrap her thoughts on why she was needed on this mission. The girl didn’t seem like the type to know much combat. So it shouldn’t be too hard for the Avengers to get her.

“Correct. You’re tasked with getting close to her to the point she can trust you. Since not a lot of people know you’re a part of the Avengers, you can help us use her to get to her family.” Wanda sighed. She didn’t want to disappoint them on her first big mission but why did it feel like the Avengers were in over their heads?

Regardless of her anxiety, Wanda swallowed it down and said, “Okay, when should I start?”

Those things I did Just so I could call you mine The things you did Well, I hope I was your favorite crime

Natasha, Steve, and Wanda sat in hiding. They were currently waiting for their target to arrive at the designated location. Various S.H.I.E.L.D. agents hid with the scenery and the night had only aided in their secrecy.

As the minutes ticked by since Y/n’s last message, Wanda couldn’t help but feel nauseous from her actions. Here she was, standing with the good side of history yet she couldn’t help but feel so repulsed by her actions.

Doubt plagued her mind which only increased her anxiety. While fiddling with her fingers, Wanda could only think about her. She thought about everything that could happen to Y/n. From how the government could possibly treat her to the possible interrogation that she would have to go through.

Oddly enough, she hoped that it wasn’t Natasha that could have a chance of doing that. Because if it were her, Y/n would end up in two ways. Beaten and bruised or hopelessly enamored by Natasha. Both ways made Wanda more anxious for this outcome. As sick as it was, Wanda would rather have Y/n be beaten and bruised than the latter. Jealousy was an ugly look on Wanda as well as betrayal.

“Do we really have to do this Steve?” Wanda could feel her hands start to shake but she quickly pulled herself together. Steve was right beside her. At any chance he felt that she was distracted, he would have her immediately escorted out.

“It’s the only way, Wanda.” The lack of doubt in his voice made Wanda shiver. She felt hopeless yet she was the only one to blame. She practically led Y/n to slaughter.

“But she’s nothing like them. You see what she does on her own.” Although Wanda knew there was no chance of pleading her case to Steve, she still tried because this was Y/n for fuck’s sake.

“I’m sorry Wanda but one good person can’t make up for what her entire family has done to many.” Looking back to the entrance of the tunnel, Wanda could only think about the good things that Y/n has done with her. Because to her, one good person was enough.

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we do 'Cause I was going down, but I was doing it with you Yeah, everything we broke, and all the trouble that we made But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face

Wanda and Y/n were hanging out at an abandoned playground near the boat docks. Surprisingly, things were still intact despite the wear and tear they’ve been through. Y/n hung upside down on the monkey bars as she watched Wanda swing closely by her.

Maybe it was the way her hair flowed through the night breeze. Or maybe it was the way that she still shone through the darkness of the night. Or maybe it was this new happy look she had on her face. Or maybe - no - it was just the way she was - always is. She’s Wanda Maximoff. With all the blood rushing down to her head, and this overbearing feeling in her chest, Y/n said, “You know that I love you, right?”

Wanda stopped swinging and looked over at Y/n. There was a small bewildered look on her face but she didn’t look disgusted by the question. “What?” There was suddenly a rush of blood pounding in Wanda’s ears. She hoped that her mind wasn’t playing tricks with her especially now.

“I know it’s crazy - I haven’t even taken you out on a first date or anything but,” there was a glint to Wanda’s eyes and that confirmed everything that Y/n was feeling, “...I do.”

Y/n pulled her body upwards and replaced her legs with her hands on the monkey bars. She swung back and forth to get her blood flowing in other directions besides her head. She looked at Wanda and saw this doubted look on her face. So Y/n quickly added, “Yeah, I love you.”

“And what makes you say that?” Wanda had various answers in mind to her own question. Y/n could possibly be on drugs or she hung upside down for far too long. Or maybe, Y/n is just out of her fucking mind. But still, Wanda only hoped that Y/n would reassure her that she heard correctly. That she does love her.

Thinking about it for a moment, Y/n suddenly found the right words to say as she swung forward and landed right in front of Wanda. She placed her hands on the ropes of the swing, her face lowering down Wanda’s, little distance between them as Y/n said, “Well, you see me as my own person. Not somebody that’s the daughter of something. Just...me.”

Wanda’s breath was caught in her throat. Suddenly her senses were filled with anything about Y/n. Her ocean scented cologne, the hair pomade she uses to style, and the way her face looked so beautiful as if it was constructed by Michelangelo.

“Anyone can do that Y/n,” she whispered. Her eyes showcased her heart as she kept looking down at Y/n’s lips. But the way Y/n’s masked made her eyes looked constantly made Wanda look back up.

“I wouldn’t call you anyone,” Y/n said cockily. “You’re Wanda Maximoff. The girl that sees the best in people and the girl I so happen to be in love with.” Love. It was so easy for Y/n to say to Wanda despite everything she has been through with her family.

No one taught her love yet when she looked at Wanda, all she could do is feel it. “You feel so comfortable saying that around me yet I haven’t said it back,” Wanda joked. By now, her breath caught in her throat with how close they were getting.

By now, their foreheads touched as Wanda’s grip on the ropes of the swing tightened. “Well, I have a feeling that you will someday. And if you don’t, at least I got it off my chest.” And someday would be today.

Slowly, the two were leaning in when - RING!

The annoying alarm that blared through Y/n’s beeper made her groan. Now, someday would be in the future. “Uhhhhh - duty calls,” she said in distaste, however, Y/n had so badly wanted to stay with Wanda. Surprisingly, Wanda felt the same way. But vigilante duties were important to Y/n. So with another kiss on Wanda’s cheek, Y/n saluted goodbye. “See you Wands. You better practice saying those words now.” Y/n left with a wink and a smile on her face.

The room was tense as Y/n stood before her family. Sharp eyes looked into Y/n’s soul as they beckoned her to finally say her peace. “I don’t want to be a part of this family anymore.”

This type of tantrum was nothing new with Y/n. Everyone knew she didn’t like being part of this family but it never got this intense. “You don’t know what you’re saying Y/n,” her Dad reasoned but frankly, he was getting aggravated by this whole shenanigan.

“No, I do know what I’m saying.” She knew her family wouldn’t treat her seriously. They never did and she was hoping that they would once more because, after this fight, she would never come back.

“You’re throwing your life away, over what? Some girl?” The whole thing was quite pathetic to them. How could you throw the whole world away for somebody they believed Y/n hardly knew?

“She’s treated me better than you,” she countered. However, her family simply rolled their eyes at her statement.

“Oh yeah? Go ahead with your little friend then but don’t come running back when things go south.” The cigar in his hands was placed into the ashtray nearby. Y/n’s parents hardly looked when they heard Y/n’s footsteps leaving the room for they truly believed their daughter would come back. Because in a family like theirs, blood is the only thing you can trust.

Perched up on the balcony, with the breeze of the night flowing past them, Wanda and Y/n were laughing at the various things their powers did. However, the night turned with Y/n teasing Wanda endlessly. “I hate you,” she said as she slightly shoved Y/n as she smiled. “Sure you do,” Y/n replied with a smirk plastered on her face.

“I seriously do,” Wanda said as she noticed Y/n look at her lips. The two leaning in closer to each other. “Okay, and what are you going to do about it?” Y/n licked her lips as she could feel her heart explode with how little space was between them.

“Thi-,” the moment was cut short was Wanda’s phone rang. Their foreheads touched at the obvious annoyment to the interruption. Y/n had to physically remember to breathe as Wanda gave her a sorry smile. “Duty calls?” Y/n said to lighten the mood.

“Duty calls.” Seeing the frown on Wanda’s face made Y/n want to kiss her even more. “God, her lips must be soft,” she thought loudly. Wanda blushed at Y/n’s words but Y/n hardly noticed. All she wanted was to remove her frown. So she settled for the next best thing. She kissed Wanda’s cheek, letting it linger for a couple of seconds.

“See you later Maximoff.” Feeling overwhelmed with joy, Wanda shoved Y/n off the building as Y/n saluted her goodbye. Smiles were still plastered on both faces.

The ringing still went as Wanda saw Y/n successfully swing away. She picked up her phone with a sigh, having to remove all her flustered emotions as she answered the call. “Hello.”

“What the hell was that, Wanda?” She knew it was coming especially since the team had a very close eye on this mission. Failure wasn’t an option. “It was called acting, maybe you should try it, Tony.” She could already feel his eye roll from a mile away.

“You’re lucky I called when I did.” Luck...if it was luck, then her heart shouldn’t have ached this much. “Yeah...thanks, Tony.”

Y/n arrived at their place in huffed breaths. The adrenaline from breaking away from her family still running through her veins. “Wanda?!” She yelled out. The tunnel echoing her voice. “Wanda?!” There was still no response.

Before Y/n could call out again, the sound of combat boots echoed through the tunnel. Y/n sighed in relief knowing that Wanda was here. “Love - I think we can still make it before my family finds…”

Slowly, the figure stepped into the light provided by the moon. His chiseled jaw and god-like physique caused Y/n to go into a defensive mode. Y/n didn’t need to see the shield in his hand to know this was Steve Rogers aka Captain America.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Wanda?” Steve didn’t respond as he pressed his fingers onto his comms. “Target is here. Move forward.” Suddenly, Y/n could feel something latch on to her back, a spread of electricity shooting through her body.

Y/n dropped to her knees, groaning in pain as she still looked at Steve. A hard boot to her back made her face roughly connect to the dirty concrete. The electrifying feeling intensifying more than ever.

As they cuffed her arms and legs, Y/n couldn’t help but focus on how much her body was on fire. She thrashed and struggled in their hold and all she could think to yell out was, “Wanda!” Screams of pain and helpless begging for Wanda’s presence echoed through the tunnels.

And as Y/n slowly faded in and out of consciousness, Wanda stood at the exit of the tunnel, hearing the love of her life begging for her to save her.

Chapter 2

Taglist: @abimess​ @dandelions4us​ @lostandsearching​ @magically-queer-stuff​ @olsensnpm​ @randomshyperson​ @somewhatgreatexpectations​ @spacevoyager2​ @when-wolves-howl @xxromanoffxx​ @yourtaletotell

[buckysboobs]

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY VOD OH MY VOD OH MY GODDJ DMICKY OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT FHE FUCK WHAG THE FUCK OH MY GOD OH OH OH FUCK OH OH SHIT OH FUCK OH FU K OH SHIR OH FUCK OH FUCK OH SHUT OH FUCK OOHH OH FUCK OHHHHH FUCK OH SHIT SHIT FUCK OH FUCK SHIT OH FUCKING HEKL FUCKIING FUCK FJNRUCKEYWND FUCK IH MY DYDJDIEN OH SHIT DUCKEINFBR FUCK OH FUCK DOHEJYENE FUCK IM HIS FICKED UP LITRLE GIRL HIS DERANGED LITRLE BITCH HIS WHORE HIS SLUT I GET TURNED ON BY A KILLER ITS TRUE I LOVE BEING TERRIFIED I LOVE THE FEAR I LOVE HOW BRUTAL AND EMOTIONLESS HE CAN BE OH FUCKFUKFCUKFICKC

You Know I’m No Good

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Reader

Summary: Steve says you’re special because he thinks you’re just as fucked up as him. He’s going to learn you’re actually much worse.

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Fresh spoilers! There is a criminal level of my absolute insanity showing through in this fic. Kidnapping & imprisonment. Mention/description of medical procedures. Blood & violence. Graphic description of injury & death. Explicit content (18+). Scrub kink (this is more of an endorsement than a warning, per se). Spit kink. Daddy kink. Blood kink. Seriously…read that one again, it’s bloody babes. Humiliation, degradation, & name-calling. A variety of slapping. Rough sex. Unprotected vaginal sex. Overstimulation. Creampie. Overall depraved filth. I cannot stress enough that this story is dark and disgusting and I love it.

Word Count: 5.6k+

A/N: I do believe I am at my most unhinged here, besties. Only God can judge me and even he’s afraid to do so. It would not hold any weight against the sheer size of my nasty whore brain, anyway. @buckysboobs: my love, my liege, my fellow scrub slut…every word of this is yours. 

*gif by the lovely, angelic, ever-so-talented @nick-fowler​ who already has a special place in my heart

Keep reading

[yandere-sins]

Idk If you have rules cuz I can't seem to find it but Osamu(Haikyuu) as mafia(if ur not comfy then you can ignore this part) who Kidnapped u and is obsessed(the "I'd rip out my heart for you" type of obsessed) who would literally do anything for you😋and puts you always first before anyone else🗿a soft yandere but will k!ll anyone who gets near you type so Osamu being possesive of you🤩

Nope! No rules, there aren’t enough people who care for them and I don’t want to stress about it anymore. If I don’t like a request, I just delete it. I prefer Yakuza over Mafia, hope you don’t mind! Thanks for requesting, enjoy ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

Even the careful Osamu couldn’t keep you from stirring in your sleep as he opened the door to the apartment. This was probably the first night ever you had been able to fall asleep in peace, and yet, you sat up while he tiptoed through the hallway towards the only room you two shared. Rubbing your eyes, you heard a soft gasp, making you look up.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya...” Osamu grumbled before stepping into the room fully, walking over to the mini-fridge he kept stocked with basic food like rice balls and ice cream in the freezer compartment. The light briefly illuminated his body, showing you a sight you didn’t want to see while he restocked some food in the fridge, either unaware or indifferent about his looks.

You looked away, biting your lips. It had all started out innocently enough, your father paying a Yakuza to keep you safe while there were some even worse guys after him. Even if the arrangement had been strange, especially after he - Osamu - moved into a small, one-room apartment with you, basically just sticking around and rarely leaving, by now, it was more than just a nightmare.

How long had it been since you last left the apartment? Almost a month now? Osamu took you for a walk once or twice, returning after mere ten minutes and stating it was too dangerous. However, whenever he did leave, he returned bloody and dirty. Frankly, you were too afraid to ask what happened, but the secrecy between you two wasn’t helping in soothing your mind.

In the beginning, you still had been hopeful that the matter would resolve quickly and you could go back to your normal life. But apparently, it just kept dragging on, Osamu only ever stating that it wasn’t over yet. Even your dad stopped responding to your messages, asking if he was okay, by now, and you were nothing but worried about him. Now, you just wondered how many more days you’d have to spend with this guy that you still considered to be a total stranger.

Gripping your blanket tightly, it took you a lot of courage to speak up, but the situation was awkward as it is, there was nothing you could do to mess it up more. “Are you okay?” you asked carefully, hoping you weren’t overstepping your boundaries. His hand stopped, and he glanced back over his shoulder at you, simply staring for a moment before turning back to finish his task.

“Yeah, just a rough night.”

“Then... are you hurt?” you continued, feeling relieved after hearing his casual answer.

“Why? Ya worried about me?” Only being able to see his side profile over his shoulder, you noticed him smile - presumably for the first time ever that you knew him. “I-I mean!” you stuttered, twiddling your thumbs as you felt flustered. It wasn’t actually that bad talking to him; he actually had a hint of a joke in his voice as he spoke with you, even if you only ever perceived him as a mean-looking fellow with a bad career choice.

“It would be bad if something happened and you were injured...”

A soft chuckle fell off his lips, and you presumed he must have been tired if you actually managed to make him laugh. Either that, or you had to admit he wasn’t half as bad as you thought him to be. Closing the fridge - and with it, the only light in the room - you heard him groan as he stood up. However, even if he tried, his footsteps were audible because of his muscular build, especially as they drew closer.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” he assured you, plopping down on your bed. “I got it all under control, promise.”

“If you say so...” Pulling in your legs, you made some space, prompting him to lean back, and the smell of blood and dirt made its way to your nose. “So... not your blood?”

There was a certain risk in asking this, but you were awake now and, for the first time, had a conversation with him. “Nope,” he casually admitted, and it brought back some of the fears you first had when he was introduced to you. Mainly that he had already become numb towards violence. “Hey...” Osamu tore you out of your thoughts quickly as he spoke up first, noticing your silence.

“Has anyone been bothering you lately? Talked to some bad eggs on your phone?”

Blinking a few times, you delayed your response, nervously glancing at your phone. It was true that after you had to go undercover, you had quite a few arguments with your boyfriend and friends. They wouldn’t understand why you’d ghost them and avoid their questions about your whereabouts. “Not really?” you mumbled, unsure if he’d be interested in that kind of complaint from you. After all, they were more or less just relationship problems, and you two weren’t close in any way.

“I see,” he curtly replied, silence falling between you two until he sighed, sitting up straight again. “After you fell asleep, there was a guy outside to room. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the knocks, but I guess you were tired for a change.”

Immediately, you tensed up. Worried about the sudden revelation about a visitor, you didn’t even mind his last comment, revealing he had been aware and watching you as you had struggled to sleep the last few weeks in his presence. “W-Who was it?” you questioned, scared of hearing that you had been found out and you’d have to leave soon and hide somewhere else.

“Don’t know him. He got very agitated when he saw me and tried to get into the apartment, but I couldn’t let him, of course.”

Ears peeking up, you almost jumped out of bed as you leaned forward, intrigued by what Osamu was telling you. “And? What happened?” you pushed for a continuation.

“Nothing special. Told him he can’t get in and to leave. But he was one persistent bastard, yelling weird stuff like he was your boyfriend and he loved you and should be able to see you. These things.”

“W-Wait! What do you mean it was my boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me! I could have confirmed it! I’d really have liked... to see him...”

Shoulders slumping in disappointment, any fear of being found out was now turned into sadness, knowing you had been asleep while a vital piece of your life and of ‘normality’ had been so close. “Ridiculous, as if I could just let anyone come and claim he knew ya,” Osamu grumbled, and the heaviness of your situation returned back to you. Of course, he couldn’t allow the risk of someone hurting you after everything you two went through already.

“He did ask me to give you something, though,” Osamu seemed to suddenly remember, contemplatively. “What is it?” you inquired, hoping that maybe it really had been your boyfriend after all, and perhaps he brought you something to help you through these challenging times.

But instead, you were met with two fingers around your chin, pulling you in closely until you felt Osamu’s breath against your mouth. Much too late did you understand the intention, his lips kissing yours gently yet longingly. You felt an immediate gut-wrenching response, tearing away repulsed by the actions of your guard. Pushing him away, you rubbed off the feeling of his lips on yours with the back of your hand, spluttering, “What are you doing?!” while you tried not to feel sicker as the smell of iron reached your nose.

“Ya know,” Osamu continued, his tone indifferent, but you could hear the smile on his lips. “I’m just repaying my debt to him. There’s no ‘being too safe’, but I guess you really did matter a lot to him. He kept crying and telling me he loved ya.”

“Why didn’t you just wake me up to confirm it then?” By now, you felt the pain of your boyfriend, worried sick about you, and then faced with someone like Osamu as his only clue. “Are you kidding?” was all that the Yakuza responded. Getting up, he stretched audibly.

“I beat him to a pulp and took care of him and his phone with the tracking app.”

What?

“H-How could you...?!” was the only thing you could stutter.

“Yeah, he won’t bother you anymore. I know you two have been fighting lately.”

“Excuse me?”

Walking over to the entrance to the bath, Osamu flipped on the light before looking back at you. Dreadful splatters of blood were all over his face, even more than you had seen before. His knuckles seemed to be straight out of a horror movie, and the black clothes he wore had dark, firm spots on them.

And yet, he smiled at you affectionately.

“As if I’d let anyone put a frown on ya cute face, Babe. Doesn’t matter who, I’ll protect you from anyone trying to get close and hurt you. I told ya, didn’t I? I’ve got everything under control.”

With that, he entered the bath, and you heard the familiar sound of the shower. Confused but mostly worried, you threw back the blanket and hopped out of bed with unsteady feet, racing to the front door. Sliding off the door chain, you pushed the handle, expecting it to open, but it wouldn’t budge.

The faint sound of a chuckle echoed from the bathroom, the walls thin as paper, much to your dismay. You didn’t want to believe it; even more, you wanted to see it. See that what Osamu described didn’t happen to someone so dear to you. You wanted to know that everything was okay. Know that the man you shared this locked apartment with wasn’t some kind of maniac going around killing people on ‘your behalf’.

But when you looked at your phone, you saw a message from your boyfriend, saying he tracked you down and would be coming to get you now. It had been read before you, even replied to, but you didn’t remember ever seeing it or replying to it at all. Especially not when the last message eerily read:

<< Waiting for you (:

[sunlightxing]

Show Me Some Respect

After working for years as a secretary to General Hux aboard the ship, the Finalizer, life could not have been better for you.

That was until Hux informed you that Commander Kylo Ren would be joining you on that ship. Almost immediately, you both resent eachother, but after being forced to spend more alone time with him, you begin to wonder, what's so bad about him after all?

Chapter 2: Learn Your Place

The first day spent aboard the Finalizer alongside Commander Ren goes anything but smoothly, and a new set of horrifying emotions develop, twisting your feelings towards him.

The wait to board the Finalizer gave you plenty of time to anxiously dread the next few months of your work on that ship. Things ran so much more smoothly when it was just your secretarial tasks for Hux, but now, something told you Commander Ren would see to it that your job would be much more difficult.

After spectating a brief meeting with Hux and two male pilots prior to leaving the base, fear wasn't a strong enough word to describe how you were feeling. Commander Ren would be on the Finalizer for an incredible, unknown, length of time, and you did not want that. Though there'd only been two encounters between the pair of you, neither of them could be categorized as good. The first, he brutalized your boss, then ripped apart every bit of confidence you had for yourself. Then the second, arguably the worst, he saw you in your weakest moment, and with judging eyes, scanned every inch of your bare flesh.

Hux informed you of how the time with Commander Ren could be very long, or very short. You hoped for the latter. Despite the fact you had been working under Hux for three years, not once did you ever have that brute step aboard your ship. From what you had been told, the reason seemed to be that during your first three years, the Commander was off "taking a break," whatever that meant.

"One more pilot will be added to your crew, per request of the Commander." Hux instructed the men. You had zoned out, staring across the vast landing bay, a sudden nauseated feeling flooding over your body. You knew Commander Ren wanted to pile as many men into that control room as he could, whatever it took to earn your silence.

"He's younger, but an experienced TIE flyer, he knows his stuff," you heard Hux continue, despite your state of distraction. "I trust you all will be able to work with him." You tried your best to ignore all of the callousness of Commander Ren, and pay attention to your tasks. If you stayed fixated on it any longer, you'd be sure to lose your mind, or at the very least your confidence.

The Commander, after far too long, finally made his way onto the landing bay. The younger pilot followed along behind him, looking just about sick of all this shit.

"Oh?" You thought to yourself as this tall, dark haired, scrawny boy walked down the ramp towards you. His somewhat curly locks framed his chiseled, long face so practically, and freckles decorated his nose like a galaxy. The longer you stared, the more you were captivated by his physique, blown away by every inch of him. He shook Huxs' hand, the veins poking out of his skin, pulsing and flexing as he gripped your Generals' hand. A lump formed in the back of your throat, and saliva swelled up in your mouth, almost seeping through your lips.

His hand reached out to shake yours, and you met his gaze once more, sucked in to his body and soul, wanting more, craving it. Your trembling arm pulled itself from your side, and placed itself delicately in his soft, warm grip. He clasped his hand around yours, frowning at the fact your shake wasn't near firm at all, but you felt the sweat forming upon your palms, worried he'd feel it as well. You went to strengthen up your grip, when a strong pain surged through the sides of your temples, ripping your mind apart.

You took his hand, clenching it much harder than you meant to due to the splitting pain in your head. He winced in pain at your death grip, releasing his hold, and pulling away in an effort for you to release your own. The pain finally exited your mind, leaving you confused, but then completely flustered at how you had just embarrassed yourself. You retired his hand back to his side, looking at him with sincere remorse in your eyes.

"My apologies," you stammered, placing your gaze at your feet, not wanting to stare at that boy, or Hux, who was probably horrendously confused. He nodded rather sarcastically, and then went on to very weakly shake the hands of the other pilots.

"Uhm, right then," Hux stated, gesturing over to the ship. “We’ll be making our departure."

You sighed, trailing behind the rest of the crowd, horrendously embarrassed with that performance. Wonderful first impression.

On your way up the ramp, in your daze of uneasiness, one of the pilots bent over to pick up the broach he had dropped from his vest. However, in your effort to not start convulsing, you had no idea the man had stopped, and were seconds from smacking into him, until you were pulled away from the encounter.

A hand reached out, griping your bicep with sheer force. The possessor ripped you back away from the pilot, and you felt something, or rather, someone, press against your back. Whatever it was, it sent a burning sensation throughout your entire body. You looked down to see the hand wrapped around your bicep was encased in a black leather glove. Slowly turning your head, heart pounding against your chest thunderously, you looked up to see the Commander staring down at you.

"It would do you some good to pay attention,” he remarked, tightening his grip.

You attempted to rip your arm away from him, but his strength was far greater than your own. "It would do you some good to not be such a prick!" You cried, continuing to try and make him release you.

"I told Hux to teach you some manners, but obviously he failed at that,” his voice hissing.

You glared at him, hoping he could see your angered expression through that stupid mask. “For the record, Commander, the only person I behave this was towards is you. So, maybe I'm not the problem," you said as you poked your finger into his chest.

"Maybe, it's you."

A strong hold closed in around your throat, cutting off your airway. Commander Rens' hand had moved from his waist to right in front of your neck.

"You will learn your place, or I will have you terminated!" He growled, his voice becoming more tense with every word. The energy that pulsed and surged around you was cutting off your airway, making it nearly impossible for you to breathe. Coughs and huffs of agony escaped your throat as you tried to take in even the slightest amount of air. Commander Ren had lifted you off of the ground slightly, allowing your feet to dangle and kick in an effort to make him release you. He chuckled. The bastard was gaining amusement from watching you suffer in his grasp. But there was little to nothing you could do to make him release you, other than hope Hux would return back to the ramp, see this display, and put and end to it.

Commander Ren suddenly released his grip on your throat all at once, dropping you onto the metal ramp carelessly. You clenched your neck, coughing and hacking as oxygen returned to your lungs, and blood flowed to back into your brain.

"There's your first lesson," the Commander stated as he lifted your hacking body up to his eye level by the scruff of your shirt. "Your prince won't come to save you," he huffed, "he turns into a jester around me."

You looked up at him with the upmost confusion, was he talking about Hux? The Commander tossed you back down on the ramp like you were nothing but garbage, then took off into the entrance of the ship. The second his silhouette was put of sight, you let out a sigh of relief as you pulled yourself off of the ramp, dusting off your uniform as best you could. You expected the next encounter between the pair of you to be awkward, not abusive.

Just a few hours before, he was gazing upon your practically naked body in the washroom not far from the bay, and now he was repulsed by every action you took. To be fair, you didn't take kindly to his orders, and fired back at him every chance you could, but he would come to learn that you weren't going to take a single ounce of his pettiness.

Upon entering the ship, you saw Commander Ren slowly marching down the halls, headed in the direction of the control room. A fiery rage pulsed throughout your body as thoughts of beating him in to a bloody pulp danced in your head. You charged at him, purposefully shoving him rather aggressively on your way down the hall.

That was a big mistake.

Time seemed to stop for a moment as a soft presence grazed your side. Then, with the flick of his wrist, Commander Ren slammed you into the wall, practically crushing every bone in your body. At least, that's what it felt like.

This time, he decided to hold your body up by your shoulders, and not your neck. How considerate. You laid up on that wall, practically motionless as he scanned every inch of you, almost as grotesquely as he had when you were undressed. His heavy boots clanged against the metal floor, echoing throughout the hull of the ship. Your body was shaking from fear, he had just beaten you seconds before this, wasn't one time enough?

He stopped inches from your body, lifting you higher up on the wall so you were now at eye level with him. His gloved hand began to stroke the side of your face ever so softly. It felt weirdly comforting, until he raised his hand and struck you hard across the cheek.

"Needing another lesson already?" He questioned. Tears had already begun swelling up in your eyes, and partially began streaming down your stinging face. Fuck, did that hurt.

Commander Ren placed his hand back down at his side. At this point, your assumption was right that he wasn't holding you up with his arms, he was using that stupid little quirk he came with. That force shit.

"I have a job to do, Commander, don't waste my time," you whimpered, the stinging on your cheek now turning into a violent, throbbing sensation.

He chuckled, presumably staring at where his hand has just struck you. The leather from his glove had added an extra burn to your cheek, making the strike more painful than a bare handed slap would. He seemed to take such a high amount of pleasure from abusing and taunting you.

"Right. Your job to needlessly follow Hux around like some puppet, seems very important," he sneered, leaning down closer to you. The cold glow from his mask radiating onto your face, and stung the part of your cheek where he had just struck you.

"I don't like you,” he said sternly.

“The feeling is mutual, Commander," you responded, clearly agitated. He really couldn't stand when you fired back at his digs, because the second you finished that sentence, Commander Ren tightened his grip on you, causing a mass amount of pain to shoot throughout your body.

"Let me go you-you mother fucker!" You cried out, though you hated him for making you seem to weak, you needed him to stop before he hurt you.

"Beg for it,” he demanded.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed, worried you might burst out laughing at his ridiculous request.

He clenched your body with so much force it felt like he was going to rip you apart. You winced at the feeling of an invisible entity nearly tearing you to shreds.

"You want me to let you go?" He asked, squeezing even harder. “Then beg for it."

You didn’t want to beg, show him any power over you. But the surging pain that encapsulated your entire throat was becoming to hard to ignore any longer. “Please," you begged, tears slowly trickling down your face, "please- just let me go."

The pressure began to loosen around your body, the pain retreating along with it.

“Good girl. See how easy things are when you do as I say?" He remarked, reaching his hand up to stroke the part of your face he had previously struck. He trailed his hand down your body, tracing it around your neck, and then stopped directly above your breasts. A strong, pulsating throb ignited from in betwixt your legs, and as a response, you squirmed to try and cross them.

"Look at you," he purred, "squirming at my touch. Judging by your little reactions, you don't want me to let you go."

He was right, you didn't want him to stop. You want him to run his hands all over your body, and just the thought of that made you writhe in filthy desire. But despite your want, and your crave for him to do such unspeakable acts to you right there in that hallway, your conscience was clear, and this? This was wrong, so very wrong.

Using all the strength and mobility you had, you shoved Commander Ren off of you, sending him tumbling backwards. He caught himself before hitting the floor, but as a result of his loss of focus, he thus lost his grip on you. Your body slammed into the ground, yet again. Hopefully you'd get used to it after a while, but then again, this wasn't something you really wanted to get used to.

Your trembling body was now looking up at him, his presence being all the more terrifying.

"Pest," he hissed, brushing off his uniform as he stared enticingly at you. "Look at what your twisted mind has made me do."

Your face turned bright red, a wave of embarrassment flooding over your body. With extreme urgency, you shot up from the ground, glaring at him as he continued to unwrinkle his attire. "You're the one who started this!" You yelled, disgusted that he would suggest the blame was on you instead of himself. He looked up from his occupancy, crouching down to be at your eye level, since he happened to be a vast number of inches taller than you.

"Go ahead and think that," he mumbled, shoving past you in a fit of rage as he stormed off down the long hallways.

You stood there motionless, and in complete disbelief. Not only was he trying to make your job increasingly difficult, he was trying to make you life difficult. How did he managed to so effortless cloud your mind with such unholy thoughts? You had just met the man that day, and he already had you lusting and fawning after him. To think you had allowed yourself to create fantasies of him in that moment, when you hadn't even seen his face. It simply made no sense, this just wasn't like you.

After catching your breath, you strolled off towards the control room yourself, hoping Hux wouldn't question what took you so long. There was a slight panic in the back of your mind that Commander Ren would be in there, and you weren't sure if you could face him after what just went down in the halls. You felt disgusted, violated even. He didn't have the right to do any sort of thing like that to you. But, at the end of the day, you liked it. Really, really liked it.

Hux turned to face you as you stormed into the control room. He could obviously tell by your facial expression that you were not in the beat shape, and the prominent hand-shaped mark on your face was also pretty helpful in determining that. Slowly, Hux shuffled over to you, placing his hand at your chin to angle it up in order to get a better look at your neck.

"He force choked you, didn't he?" Hux questioned, a slight trembling in his voice. You nodded, judging by Huxs' reaction, he obviously had been the receiver of that punishment as well. Hux let out a heavy sigh as he releases your chin.

"He's doing it to show you your place. To show you that he's the Commander, and you must abide by his rule," Hux stated nervously.

"He's not the Supreme Leader!" You cried, trying to get him to understand how completely aberrant that he would take commands from such a tyrant.

Hux turned away from you, "I know he isn't, but he has more power than I ever could."

Burning hot tears began to swell up in your eyes, no one but you could see that the Commander wasn't what he was hyped up to be, not even Hux. You sniffled, wiping the tears away from your eyes as you walked to your seat.

"Begin take off procedures," Hux ordered. The pilots plugged in their codes, and just like that, the Finalizer was finally off Starkiller Base.

You stood quietly next to Hux, turning your head ever so often to glance at him. He was gazing out at the infinite galaxy, but his body was shaking. You turned your gaze away from him, choosing to gaze at the same thing he did.

Hux was the one person you thought would always have your back, but he was too afraid. That man had seen your potential and looked past what others couldn't. He gave you a shot, but now, it looked like that was all he could give you.

"We'll be stationed here, whilst Commander Ren heads down to the planet on his shuttle," Hux broadcasted to the pilots. You kept your gaze on the now visible planet, though you could sense Hux was staring at nothing but you.

He cleared his throat, ready to call out the next batch of instructions. If he was getting choked up, then he obviously was regretful of his inability to stick up for you.

"Simon will be aboard the craft," Hux continued, "as he has more experience with th-"

Hux stopped mid sentence. He never does that, especially when giving orders, unless..

You turned around to see Commander Ren standing in the doorway to the control room, and your heart sank. Hux froze, not even attempting to address him. The Commander noticed Huxs' fear, and as a respond he began slowly walked towards him, his steps shaking the entirety of the ship.

"The girl will be aboard my craft, not that boy," Commander Ren stated.

Your throat went dry, and a small squeak escaped your throat. Was he really telling Hux, the man you were a secretary to, that you would be accompanying him down to the village? Why in space would he make such a bold statement? There was no logical reason for you to go down there, except for-

Maybe the Commander wanted to finish what you two had started in that hallway.

"Ren, there is no reason for her to leave my side!" General Hux barked. Suddenly, he had found his voice, and actually managed to stick up and defend you without stuttering or slurring his speech. However, with a violent glare given by the Commander, Hux was back to his weak, whimpering self.

“She'll be on my shuttle," Commander Ren repeated. “That’s not a request."

Hux pulled himself together, now placing himself inches from the Commanders face. “She is my secretary, not yours!" He asserted.

Commander Ren took a step towards him. Although the pair of them were relatively the same height, the Commander seemed to tower over Hux, maybe that was just due to the size of his power, not just his body. "Mine has been... let go," Commander Ren stated, glancing back over at you. "Would you prefer that I wait to get a new one?"

Hux looked off to the side in fear. He knew that by not allowing you to go on that ship, this mission would be ruined, and the Supreme Leader would have his head.

"She'll go with you," Hux said dejectedly, stepping away from the Commander, and back to his post at the center of the room. You looked at him, practically pleading with him to find someone, literally anyone else to go. If he knew why Commander Ren wanted you to go with him on that ship. He'd say no. Yes he would absolutely say no.

But then, what would happen to you? You'd lose your job, status, everything over something you didn't technically start, and then, there was the Commander. You weren't sure what would become of him, but as much as you hated to regret it, the First Order needed him. So you would bite your tongue this time, and go with him on that ship, as much as it pained you.

"I'll do it," You stated, shyly staring down at your feet.

Commander Ren nodded in approval, shooting Hux a menacing glare as he signaled for you to walk beside him. This shift of power left you feeling scared and confused. For the first time in years, you weren't under Huxs' direct orders. No, now, you worked for Commander Ren, and things didn't look good.

Silence reigned as you both walked next to one another, down the hallway towards the landing bay on the Finalizer. You had hoped that the Commander would try to make any form of small talk, but it looked like he didn't feel like it. You were a nervous and sweaty mess, nearly crumbling with every step you took.

"Scared to leave him?" Commander Ren asked, finally breaking the silence. You paused for a moment, not quite understanding what his question meant, nor why he was speaking to you. He sensed your lack of understanding, and went to rephrase his statement.

"You've worked for him for many years, correct?"

"Yes, sir. Three years now."

"Impressive. The longest I've kept a secretary is three weeks. He must be fond of you."

You rolled your eyes in disgust. Unlike the Commanders motivation for wanting to be around you, Hux had only pure and platonic reasons. He wasn't an angry, impatient person like Commander Ren was. Hux was kind, sweet, gentle. Despite all that, he was powerful, and didn't back down from a fight, though he wasn't showing that side of himself recently.

Two stormtroopers approached you and the Commander when you arrived at the entrance to the bay. You felt incredibly awkward being the only one there without a mask, and without a weapon.

A loud hissing came from in front of you, followed by several loud bangs. Two metal doors pried open to reveal the bay, which was covered in a plethora of TIE Fighters. Some were smaller, stacked on top of each other at fueling stations, while others sat at the center for everyone to see.

"I hope you know which one the Command Shuttle is," Commander Ren stated, a slight tinge of agitation was present in his voice.

You nodded. "Yes, the one at the center," you respond, waving your hand in the air to gesture towards the shuttle.

He purred with content, "it would've been embarrassing for you to have worked here for three years, to then not be able to identify my ship."

Your face recoiled in disgust and confusion. "Okay, thanks for your input," you groaned as you walked off to the shuttle, leaving the Commander speechless alongside his two troopers. You walked into the cockpit, noticing there was no pilot waiting inside. Commander Ren trailed in behind you, watching you stand there in confusion, desperately searching for a pilot.

"I'm flying the shuttle," he remarked, taking a seat in the head chair. He patted the one next to it. Directly next to it.

"So, it's just us in here?" You questioned, a feeling of dread spilling over you. He nodded in agreement, and a groan of displeasure escaped your mouth. You flopped into the chair, sitting as far away from the Commander as you possible could, though that was rather impossible since you seats were stationed so close to one another.

The Commander flicked a few switches, engaging the ships thrusters, and finally taking off from the bay. Instantly upon exiting, he engaged autopilot, and plugged in the destination. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his leg over the other and slouching in the most unprofessional way.

"Such a man of edicut,” you thought to yourself as you watched him begin clenching, and then unclenching his fists.

"Does Hux ever snap at you for that attitude?" He asked. You turned to him, trying to speak but words seemed to escape you after such a statement. Was he trying to make you hate him? Or was he just this terrible with making conversation?

"No, he never has," you scoffed. "The only person who's felt the need to do that is you."

The Commander reached his arm down to the side of his seat, flicking a few knobs in order to shift his chair to face your own. With his ankle crossed over his knee, and a hand up resting against his face, he gazed at you with unfiltered eyes. The feeling of his cold, dark stare at your body flushed your cheeks with embarrassment. “Commander-" you began to speak, but with the flick of his wrist, your seat was now spun around to face him.

"If you're going to fill in as my secretary," he scolded. "Then you must learn that you're expendable. I don't need you."

Your face recoiled in confused disgust. "Commander, if I may remind you, you're the one who insisted on bringing me."

He scoffed, gripping his hand with such force, you were afraid he might shatter it. "I gave you this position. You should be grateful for it," he ordered, tightening the grip.

You glared at him through the vision opening on his helmet. "Why would you give me this position if you despise me so much?"

He paused, mortified you would even dare to rebuttals against any word he spoke. "I didn't choose for this to happen."

"You go ahead and think that."

Commander Ren lifted you out of your seat, holding you up into the air by your neck. Apparently, he didn't like it when you repeated the phrases he once said to you back at him. "Let me be clear," he stated, "I could kill you, right now, and it would make my life so much easier."

You reached your leg out, slamming it hard and dee into his chest. He fell back against the control panel, losing his grasp around your neck, and your entire body. You dropped to the floor yet again, but this time you smacked down against the metal floor, face first. Your lip had been split open, and there was no way in space that your nose wasn't broken. You put your finger to your mouth, watching as the blood trickled down your fingers and down to your forearm.

"Do it, Commander," you begged sarcastically. "I'd like to see you try and kill me."

He shuddered, taking a step back away from you. You picked yourself off of the ground, spitting blood into the nearby waste bucket. "Do you have any towels?" You asked sternly. The Commander stood still, completely frozen in the same place he was after he dropped you onto the floor, causing this whole bloody mess.

"Commander!" You yelled, trying your best to get his attention. He slowly picked his gaze up from the blood spattered floor to your face, his body slouched and cowering.

"There.” He pointed to a shelf on the wall. You sighed, marching yourself over to the cupboard, ripping a towel off of the shelf. You wiped the blood off of your face. A presence made itself apparent from behind you.

"What do you want, sir?"

"Is it broken?"

You spun your around to face him, a blood soaked towel in hand that was pressed against your face, and water-filled eyes. "Yes, it's broken!" You responded angrily, pulling away from him.

"I told you to watch your mouth, I wouldn't have dropped you if you weren't so, difficult," he stated, his voice sounding more sympathetic than usual.

"I'm not the one who chokes people out for having an opinion," you scoffed.

The ships alarm went off, and the Commander stared at your for just a moment longer before pulling away from your gaze. He returned back to the controls. It seemed like now it was time to disengage autopilot, as the ship was now approaching the village.

"The stormtroopers will land first and handle things on the ground. We'll stay behind until that is done," he stated.

"Yes, Commander," you groaned, flopping back into your chair as you held the blood soaked towel to your face.

Though the pain of this injury was practically unbearable for you, the way he stared at you after it all happened. Just the way he paused for a moment longer to gaze at you before returning to the shuttles controls.

It made you wonder if under all that leather and metal, there was an actual, decent human being. But, going off of everything he had done thus far, you didn't believe that was true. Not yet, at least.

[illfoandillfie]

Don’t Talk To Me About Love

Day number 4 of the Platonically themed event! This is another idea thats sort of been bouncing around my head since I posted Platonically. In the months since then I’ve started and stopped this blurb about 60 times - at one point I intended it as a sequel but then ended up absorbing part of the plot into PNDDAOF. But here we are. It is somewhat complete and I’m much happier with it now then I was before. 

Yet again, this blurb is inspired by a song - Don’t Talk To Me About Love by Altered Images (less the lyrics and more just the title but it’s a bop so like check it out anyway lmao) 

Words: 2,150

Warnings: It’s about the Communication. There’s talk of an argument but nothing specific and honestly this is mostly just about the two of them Dealing with something out of the ordinary. 

Every morning with Ben follows the same pattern. No matter who wakes first, no matter how long it takes you to get out of bed, Ben will greet you with a kiss on the cheek. It’s a litmus test of your disposition and a lesson hard learnt. Most days you’ll lean into him, wrap your arms around him, press your lips to his, snuggle back into his embrace, and he knows that it means you’ll be okay with the actions that convince others you’re boyfriend and girlfriend. But every so often it’s different. Those days, what he has come to call your no romo days, his cheek kiss will be returned but you’ll pull back before he can sweep you into something deeper, a sign that you don’t have the patience or energy or whatever it usually takes, to deal with romance. Those days are few and far between, mostly occurring months apart, seemingly at random. But because of that it took quite some time before you got the hang of dealing with them as partners. On your own it had been easier to avoid romantic expressions, but with Ben it was harder to manage.  

The first time it happened after you’d started the QPR, you tried to push through, tried to ignore the tension you felt as he unexpectedly kissed you, his hands pulling you into him. There was a sudden urge to run away, your blood running cold, and Ben must have sensed that something was off. He was always observant where you were concerned. When he asked if something was wrong you pretended there wasn’t but he kept badgering you until you told him what was up. Unfortunately you sort of bit his head off, frustrated by the constant questions. You immediately regretted your tone and choice of words but the damage was done, Ben’s expression one of hurt and confusion. Before you could try to explain better he’d left the room. He gave you space for the rest of the day, barely crossing your path at all, but it was too much space, an overcorrection. And that made you mad more than anything else. After all you’d warned him that this happened sometimes, that you had days where you were repulsed by the thought of anything romantic, completely turned off by actions that could be read as such. How dare he be hurt by it, as if you were an inconvenience he had to endure. He was the one who suggested you do the QPR thing in the first place, why did he suddenly think it only included the times you were acting closest to a regular girlfriend. At that point you hadn’t yet moved into his house so you left and slept in your own bed that night, sick with worry that you’d ruined everything with Ben, that you’d wake up in the morning to find not only your QPR broken but that your best friend wouldn’t want anything more to do with you at all. You felt stupid to have thought that a QPR could work, that you could ever fit anywhere. Clearly you were meant to be alone.  

But the next morning brought rational thought and rational conversation as well as a higher tolerance for romance. Ben called to make sure you were okay, confessing to a fairly sleepless night spent worrying if you'd got home safe and feeling bad about how you’d left. But you could hear his smile when you invited him over to talk about it, could practically see it in your mind’s eye. And then you saw it for real, a proper grin, when you’d opened the door and dove into his arms, burying your face in his shirt. He’d squeezed you tight, relieved that things between you were still good. It took a serious conversation to sort out what had gone wrong. You tried to better explain what it was you felt - the queasy feeling at the idea of being involved in any sort of romantic act and the discomfort when confronted with romantic imagery or depictions of romance and romantic couples – reassuring Ben that it wasn’t anything he’d done, and he apologised for giving you the cold shoulder, admitting his distance had been because he wasn’t sure how to act around you. Talking it out helped and when you were done, both feeling like you better understood what would help the situation, you curled up in bed together to catch up on the sleep you’d missed.  

The next time, nearly six months later, you’d been better prepared and, though it was still a little rocky, it had gone smoother. Ben didn’t try to avoid you, so you didn’t feel as abandoned as you had the last time, but you made sure to maintain some distance from him, knowing his feelings were different to yours and not wanting to put him in any awkward situations. There were moments when neither of you knew what to do or say, moments when it felt like you were both treading on eggshells to try and avoid a repeat of the last time. But when you asked to take a break from the TV series you were halfway through because the romance plotline didn’t hold the same enjoyment it usually did, he seemed to understand and agreed to what you needed. The time after that had been barely a month later, far sooner than you were expecting. You supposed that your relationship with Ben was having an impact. After all it had been a while since you’d last been in a romantic relationship and though what you and Ben had wasn’t that, it did cross some of the same lines. Surely it was natural that your mind would try to balance things out by making you feel unequipped to deal with romantic subplots and sentimental love songs more often than before. Or at least that’s how to tried to explain it to Ben when he made a huffy comment about the increasing frequency of your romance repulsed days. If it hadn’t been for an interrupting phone call from his mum, you might have fallen into another fight. Instead, you spent the time he was on the phone thinking about why things felt so hard, trying to come up with possible solutions. You went over some activities in your head, comparing how you usually felt about them and what you felt when you were romance repulsed. Cheek kisses still felt okay because they were generally a way you showed affection to everyone you knew, but being kissed on the lips seemed to cross a line, no matter how it was done. Cuddling too could be okay depending on the context but you’d probably prefer not to just to be safe. Sex on the other hand was a big question mark You’d never tried having sex on a no romo day before, but you assumed if emphasis was put on the physical pleasure it could work, though maybe positions that didn’t force eye contact would be more enjoyable. But perhaps that was better left to be explored when you were both more comfortable with the situation. Even dinners out together and datey things like that could be doable if you didn’t have to deal with candlelight and intimate seating.  

As soon as Ben was finished on the phone you tried to explain your thought process to him.   “The way I think about it is like...regularly I have a mental picture of what actions I feel are platonic and what actions cross into romance. Sometimes those lines aren’t super clear like with kissing, but I know which it is when I see it or experience it.” “Right, like how you don’t mind spooning in bed and getting really close but on the couch you prefer to rest your head on my lap or whatever.” “Yes, exactly. It might all be considered variations on cuddling but to me there's a big difference in how they feel. Well a no romo day is like if you took all of those distinct lines and moved them over a little. The lines are still there but the image is distorted and not quite what I’m used to seeing.” “Okay,” he stretched the word out thoughtfully, “so...it’s not that everything feels romantic it’s just that your tolerance levels have changed?” “Yeah, I think so. It’s not easy for me to understand either. Especially since sometimes things change more than others. But yeah, that’s pretty much it. But my big question is what do you need? I don’t want this to become a big problem or cause fights every time it happens so, what’s going to help make it feel more normal for you?” Ben thought for a moment, “Physical contact. I don’t mean that in a sexual way either, just physical contact. I mean you know how touchy I can be. It grounds me. Even just a hug or, y’know, rubbing my back as you walk past me, things like that. A high five even. If we’re out with the others it’s not so bad cause they all know what I’m like too and none of them will mind if I lean on their shoulder or sit on their lap or whatever. But when it’s just us...I need that physical contact to feel settled and I guess it’s been harder to feel okay about it when you flinch away from me. Makes me feel wrong just because I want to be close to you.” You were a little stunned by the honest and carefully considered way he responded to your question, and felt a little bad about trying to force space between you, “I knew you liked that sort of thing but I guess I didn’t realise how important it is for you.” Ben shrugged, “Normally it’s something I don’t even think about. But with you lately it’s like I just haven’t known what to do.”He paused, biting the corner of his thumb nail as he thought, “I don’t think the way I love you is entirely platonic anymore. I mean it hasn’t been entirely platonic for a while now but those feelings aren’t going away. And I’m not saying that to make you feel bad or anything, it’s just how it is, and I think it’s part of why I’ve been so weird or whatever about this whole romance repulsion thing.” “Yeah it must be kinda hard to understand what I mean,” “I’m trying to understand it and I’m trying to be respectful. But you gotta give me a little more. And you have to be more understanding of where I’m coming from too.”

After that, you both made adjustments to accommodate the other and talked through what solutions worked and what didn’t. Ben spent some time consulting google for ideas and found you a playlist of songs that had aromantic vibes or at least could be reinterpreted so the romantic meaning was more relatable for you. And you made more of an effort to keep up a physical closeness with him – sitting shoulder to shoulder as you watched TV and shared a bag of microwave popcorn, rubbing your hand over his back as you stepped behind him in the kitchen, surprising him by placing a cold hand to his face or stomach when he wasn’t expecting it – even on regular days when you didn’t hate the way it felt to be held by him. You figured that emphasising those sorts of small physical gestures would help both of you in the long run. Every so often something would arise that needed a little extra discussion but you both took them in your stride and did your best to be accommodating and patient.  

And by the next time a no romo day occurred, things were as close to perfect as you could hope for. You wriggled out from under Ben’s arm when you woke, better able to recognise the sick feeling  creeping up on you. Stepping out of bed you switched Ben’s oversized sweatshirt for one of your own and tiptoed down to the kitchen putting your anti-romantic playlist on softly as you made coffee and toast. When Ben eventually surfaced he pressed his lips to your cheek but he already felt you wouldn’t want anything more than that, putting together the pieces and proved right as you gave a small shake of your head. He gave your waist a brief squeeze in acknowledgement before turning toward the fridge to begin his own morning routine. And just like that you knew things would be okay. You couldn’t say you knew what he felt or that you entirely understood it but, yet again, Ben had shown that his love for you was less about Love and more about you. And you hoped he could see that you cared for him just as strongly, even if you felt it differently.

[amajikilvr]

hi! can you write a bnha sickfic for me? the scenario i want is; tamaki is sick with a stomach bug and gets sick during class time. his anxiety is at it's peak from gettin sick, but mirio is there to help him through it. thank you, if that wasn't too much to ask!

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under the weather - tamaki amajiki

word count 1.1k

contains graphic depictions of illness and vomiting, anxiety, crying, panic attack, comfort

characters included tamaki amajiki and mirio togata

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Amajiki had unwisely dismissed the queasy feeling stewing heavily in his stomach.

It’d been there when he’d rolled out of bed, but he didn’t let himself think too deeply about it and its implications. His anxiety had given him an ultimately harmless upset stomach an infinite amount of times in the past and because of that, he figured this was nothing new or anything to worry about.

He knew he was wrong about that claim from the moment that the idea of eating his usual hefty breakfast made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. Amajiki was someone who loved to eat and that paired well with the conditions of his quirk so he ate his food this morning as usual because it was his responsibility to do so.

His work-study, something he couldn’t even fathom doing with his gut constantly churning like this, was relying on his constantly varied diet and for him to show up after school…

Maybe it was nothing and his anxiety had just simply turned it into something. He had to believe that, had to believe it wasn’t sickness to blame.

He couldn’t be sick today. He couldn’t be sick, period.

Waiting for this first class to end is bad enough before his stomach suddenly gives a startling groan that’s both extremely audible and just as nauseating. Amajiki’s eyes go wide with embarrassment as he winces and waits for it to pass. Someone nearby had to have heard that over the teacher’s lecture.

The sounds don’t seem to be stopping any time soon either. The angry burbling noises continue mercilessly on as if the organ itself is yelling at him. He holds a shaky hand to his clammy forehead and tries his best to ignore the sudden pressure that’s building in his chest.

It starts with a loudish belch that Amajiki wasn’t prepared for, his ears fold over themselves and burn with intense shame when he receives several varying glances from the students around him. Some appear merely amused by his surprising outburst and some toss dirty looks his way.

There’s another. This burp is much queasier, wetter, and is stifled pathetically against the hand he slapped over his mouth after the first one. Something truly horrible burns his throat, insistent, and his stomach gives another drawn-out sickly gurgle.

An excess of saliva fills his mouth, rapidly pooling on the tongue that suddenly feels heavy, and he can taste the remnants of his breakfast with every single sour burp that leaks out of him. Reality hits him with a rush of despair.

He’s going to throw up.

The nausea is aggressively overwhelming, but Amajiki can manage to register that one thing he’d been denying, that one thing he’d been trying his best to push out of his mind this entire time. He still can’t get himself to move or do anything for that matter. He’s petrified, frozen in place at his desk.

He whines, low and fearful, before the first gag makes him jolt forward. His stomach clenches, bracing itself. The second one accomplishes nothing more than a final soggy belch and it’s the next violent retch that does it.

A torrent of thick vomit hits the hand that’s still over his mouth, a good portion of it spurting between his fingers and out from under his palm. It gushes down to his desk, half-digested chunks of his last meal splattering the front of his shirt.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh shit!”

“Ack!”

“Gross!”

The various surrounding cries of disgust are nothing more than faraway background noise as Amajiki sputters and coughs up more lumpy sick onto the tabletop. He lets out a wobbly sob when some of it squirts from his nose, burning like the abundance of tears stinging his eyes.

His head pounds like a drum and his stomach continues to ache even after expelling its ill contents. It’s an eternity of sitting there while trying to catch his breath and keep his cries subdued.

Nothing else seems to exist. It’s just him and his mess…

“Hey,” It’s Mirio. He clutches Amajiki’s trembling shoulder with a strong hand and doesn’t look nearly as repulsed as he should be. “It’s okay. Can you get up for me?”

“M’m really sick…” Amajiki mumbles, feeling dizzier by the second and head growing foggier in half of that time.

“I know, buddy.” He feels his shoulder being squeezed. His vision focuses somewhat, for better or worse. “Let’s get you out of here. Do you think you could walk if I helped you?”

Maybe it’s the pungent smell of his own vomit choking him or the stares from his classmates that pierce his skin like needles, but either way, Amajiki finds himself being led, practically dragged, by Mirio to the door.

They’ve nearly made it there when his stomach gives another urging twist and he whimpers as he swallows thickly. Amajiki tugs pressingly on Mirio’s shirt and he gets the message quickly, thankfully, pulling him over to the trash can at the front of the room.

Salty tears dribble down his flushed cheeks as he weakly spits up more liquidity puke on top of piles of pencil shavings and discarded papers. His shoulders shake forcefully from the effort of silently crying before Mirio places a palm on his back and moves his bangs away, effectively stilling some of the hysterical tremors running through him.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. Just let it all out, you’ll feel better, I promise. Keep breathing for me, Tamaki.”

Mirio’s soft comforting words guide him through the necessary actions that his body forces upon him. His stomach heaves for the last time, it’s beginning to really hurt from all of the throwing up, and soon he’s finished up and greeted by the fresh air of the hallway.

It’s a much appreciated change from the humid stench that had started to hang heavy in the classroom. He really does feel terrible about that and even worse for whoever’s tasked with cleaning the source. There’s one more emergency pitstop to the restroom on the way and they’ve made it to the nurse’s after what feels like a slow-moving century..

Now that he’s resting on a cot with a small bottle of Gatorade (and a clean shirt), his tummy still feeling upset and turbulent but somewhat calmed compared to before, Amajiki can’t help but let everything sink in and think about what really happened back there.

“Everyone saw me…” He mumbles miserably, rebirthed horror creeping in menacingly to join his lingering nausea. “Oh my god, it got everywhere… I don’t know why I didn’t move...”

“And? They’ll all forget about it by next week! Tomorrow even.” Mirio replies almost immediately from his nearby chair. So far, Recovery Girl hasn’t even questioned his presence.

“Messes can be cleaned!”

Amajiki voices his disagreement in the form of a single grunt and takes a very tentative sip of his drink. That acidic sick taste still remains in his mouth no matter how much he tries to rinse it out. His stomach grumbles a few times, almost passively.

“Aren’t you worried about catching this from me?” He says finally, disbelieving that he was actually lucky enough to have someone like Mirio with him through all of this.

“Maybe you just ate something bad.” Mirio retorts with an air of confidence that Amajiki can only dream of having. “Besides, best friends who share the flu together, stay together!”

“... You’re impossible.”

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[justmeandmysickies]

2 hours and 41 minutes

characters: Key and Jaylen warnings: emeto

1 hour and 48 minutes. That's how long they'd been sitting on the bathroom floor. And key was done.

But of course, he wasn't the one who should be complaining. It was his boyfriend who had been dry heaving constantly for the better part of the last two hours.

But his knees, ass and back were hurting from sitting on the floor and his arms were getting sore from the constant motion of rubbing Jaylen's back. And on top of it all, the sick brunette refused to leave the bathroom, even though he'd been unable to bring anything up, claiming he'd throw up 'any minute now'.

Key knew he shouldn’t be whining but he couldn't help pitying himself a little bit.

And yes, he knew he could leave. He could simply walk away and find somewhere comfortable to relax and Jaylen wouldn't even be mad, considering he himself would have left ages ago. But Key couldn't bring himself to - not when his boyfriend looked like this.

Jay was shivering, despite his white shirt being basically see through with sweat. His face was ghostly pale, and tears of exertion were streaming down his cheeks. His head was resting on his arms, which were crossed over the toilet seat. At this point Jaylen was a sniffling mess and Key couldn’t help but feel bad for his usually bright boyfriend.

Another dry heave sounded from within the toilet bowl and Key cringed at the sound. Jaylen on the other hand barely showed any reaction at all – he was just too exhausted to care anymore. A thick gurgle made its way up Jay’s throat before manifesting as a sick sounding belch. In response, Jaylen buried his head even deeper in the toilet, his mouth hanging open in anticipation. Key quickly grabbed his boyfriend’s long hair to prevent possible damage, but the effort turned out unnecessary.

The intense wave of nausea passed as quickly as it had come, and Jaylen straightened up slightly. Groaning in frustration, he spit into the toilet, hoping the action would help move things along.

“Still nothing?” Key asked, actually a little disappointed.

Jay whined miserably in response. His head was pounding, his stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out and he was getting light-headed from the constant dry heaving. If only he could finally bring something up, so he could start feeling better or at least somehow empty.

2 hours and 12 minutes. Key hadn’t known it was possible to lose feeling in your ass but apparently it was. At least this way it wasn’t actively hurting anymore so the blonde considered it a win.

His boyfriend on the other hand, was still slumped over the toilet. Even though wet, unrelieving burps were gurgling up his throat almost constantly now, he was still not able to actually bring anything up. Instead Jaylen was left panting over the bowl, eyes almost falling shut, as the dizziness and the fatigue were taking their toll. Key could only imagine how miserable he had to be feeling.

“Come on baby, let us go to bed. I will bring a bucket for you, just in case. You need some rest.” It wasn’t really a question anymore. Key couldn’t stand seeing his obviously ill boyfriend on the bathroom floor any longer. He needed some proper rest in a proper bed, rather than on the floor with his head in the toilet.

“But what if I make a mess?” Jaylen’s voice was shot from dry heaving, his volume barely above a whisper.

“Then I will clean it. Please, let us get up.” Key’s voice however was firm and left no room for argument.

Jaylen sighed in defeat. He knew his boyfriend was right, but he was just so damn tired. He didn’t want to move – unfortunately one look at the determined man in front of him confirmed that he had no choice.

So the sick singer used the toilet to push himself up on shaky legs. Key almost sighed in relief at the thought of finally going to bed when things took a turn for the worse.

Standing upright did nothing to help Jaylen. A wave of dizziness crashed over him so hard, he had to put both hands on Key’s broad shoulders to steady himself. Another burp forced its way out of his mouth – and with it came a thick wave of barely digested spaghetti carbonara. Neither of the two men reacted fast enough to prevent the mess so it landed in front of Key’s feet with a sickening splat.

Jaylen whirled around, crashing to his knees in front of the toilet, just before another slightly thinner wave of foul liquid fell into the toilet. Key was repulsed (Jay really needed to chew his food better), but one look at the brunette and Key was at his side in an instant, not even caring about the puddle of vomit he was now basically kneeling in. This was bad.

At first Jaylen hadn’t been able to start but now he couldn’t stop. Sour smelling liquid just kept pouring out of his mouth, giving the singer no time to breathe. Tears were streaming down his face, which was now bright red as he wheezed, desperately trying to take in a breath.

Key’s eyes widened – he had no idea how to help his ailing boyfriend. “Hey baby, listen to me, okay? You will be alright. I promise. I just need you to stay calm and try and breathe for me, okay?”

Jaylen tried. He really, really did. But his lungs weren’t cooperating. Everything hurt. His ears were ringing, and black spots were dancing in his vision.

Just before Jay was about to black out entirely, the spell tapered off and he could finally draw in a much-needed breath.

Key exhaled audibly. Thank God. But Jaylen was still struggling to catch his breath so the blonde did the only thing he could think of: he sat right behind Jaylen, pressing his own chest against his boyfriend’s heaving back and took a deep breath, encouraging the slightly smaller man to breathe with him.

It worked. Only a few minutes later, Jaylen was back to breathing normally. And, as Key realized, he was about to fall asleep, still braced against the toilet.

He chuckled, relieved to see that his boyfriend was doing okay. “Hey, sleepyhead. Feeling any better?”

“Mh.” Jay hummed sleepily. “‘think I just needed it out of my system. ‘m really tired.” He mumbled, his eyes already falling shut.

“Yeah, I can tell. Let us get you to bed then.” Key got up, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand. Once again, Jaylen got dizzy at the sudden motion but fortunately the vertigo passed quickly.

“How about you go to bed, and I will join you, right after I am done cleaning the floor, hm?” Key said, the wet spots on his knees unpleasantly reminding him of the vomit on the floor.

He got nothing more than an approving hum before his boyfriend slowly trudged into the direction of their bedroom. Key immediately got to work, cleaning as efficiently as ever.

Just as he was about to leave, he glanced at the clock.

2 hours and 41 minutes. That’s how long they’d been sitting on the bathroom floor. And now Key could finally go to bed.

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter Four

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: use of the word cripple, almost swearing

Word Count: 2,515

You didn’t truly conceptualize how far away Denmark was from New York until you were flying there. It felt like an eternity. You and Ivar hadn’t spoken since your last exchange. Things felt tense and your stomach felt sick. “Get the luggage,” Ivar spoke his first words when you got off the plane.

Even though you would’ve appreciated a “please” you didn’t argue, waiting by the conveyor belt. “Are you going ahead?” You turned to talk to him as he was already going. It seemed as if he was incredibly successful at pushing you from his mind.

It took several minutes before you found the last of your bags. As if on cue, you heard a woman shout in danish. “You left her?” Followed by the harsh thud of a smack. “You can’t just leave your girlfriend, Ivar.” Your grasp on the language was tentative at best. You used duo lingo daily but hearing it in practice was a different beast entirely.

“She’s fine, mor.”

“If she’s dating Ivar seriously enough to visit us in another continent then she’s probably used to this by now,” a man laughed.

You could hear the annoyance grow in Iver's voice as he bickered back. You caught some of the language but less than you’d have liked. You grabbed the luggage and started to head over.

“This must be Y/N,” Aslaug walked over and you immediately recognized her, a smile on your face as you waved.

“Hey! Um— nice to meet you,” you offered your hand to shake and instead she pulled you in for a hug. Her arms wrapped around your body and you could’ve died with no regrets. Why was it so warm?

“Oh, I’d rather you not butcher the language, dear. But the attempt was lovely,” Aslaug smiled sweetly and placed her hand on your upper arm sympathetically. Her English was a lot better than your Danish. It was the nicest way you’ve ever been told to stop trying because you sucked so badly.

Your face flushed in embarrassment and you laughed. “Sorry— I’m still learning.” Maybe you should just stop if it was that bad. It sounded fine to you. You glanced over to see Ivar as he rolled his eyes at you.

His brother walked over, to introduce himself. “I’m Hvitserk, Ivar’s cooler brother. And the only one willing to tolerate him,” he flashed a grin and shook your hand.

“Then you must have great perseverance.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them. It was easy to forget that this was the part where you were supposed to convince people you were in love with the man.

“Is father not coming?” Ivar was quick to change the subject. He wasn’t happy with the situation— but when was he ever happy? Even the fleeting moments between the two of you managed to turn sour by the end.

“No— he had a prior engagement, but Ubbe is waiting in the car!” Aslaug tried to save the conversation, the disappointment was evident from Ivar’s face. “I’m sure you two much be tired, jet lag is killer.” She was swift to move into the next conversation, ushering them away.

You grabbed the luggage and began to roll both bags when Hvitserk stopped you. “Let me help with that. If my brother wants to let you do all the work the least I can do is offer to share the load,” he teased. “Trust me, he used to make me do his chores too.”

Hvitserk was immediately more welcoming than his brother. It made you question how the two could’ve been related at all. Ivar spared a glance, scowling at you. You took the natural course of action and scowled back. “Thanks,” you laughed and immediately eased up. “Tell me then, which one of you two is adopted. Because I highly doubt you’re related.”

How could the same family raise such opposing figures. Even if Hvitserk turned out to be some evil bottom dwelling menace, he made an effort to appear nice. You wasn’t sure you ever saw Ivar bother to do the same, at least not to a stranger.

“You wouldn’t be the first person to ask that. Ivar’s different,” Hivserk went along with it. And soon the two of you managed to easily slide into conversation. You found out a bit more about the family.

The father, Ragnar had two family trees. One with his first wife, Lagertha, with whom he had a son, Bjorn. The second was with Aslaug, and they had four children: Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar. Their father wasn’t married but often far from single. Bjorn is married to Gunnhild. Ubbe is married to Torvi who used to be married to Bjorn. Sigurd and Ivar didn’t get along. Some of this you knew already and the rest of the facts started to blend together.

By the time you got to the car you forgot much else that Hvitserk tried to prepare you for. Ubbe was leaning against their car. “Long time no see, my baby brother.”

Ivar rolled his eyes and tried to just enter the car but was stopped by his brother. Ubbe hugged Ivar who failed to reciprocate the hug, nearly dropping his cane from the intensity of the squeeze. The older brother didn’t seem to mind it and instead easily moved on to hug you. “At least one of you two is more affectionate, you could learn a thing or two from her, Ivar.”

—

“Don’t get too close to them,” Ivar whispered to you when you got to his family’s home. The car ride back had been filled with childhood stories of the boys, mostly Ivar. You understood why he was so agitated, they seemed to mess with him a lot. Not that you agreed with the irritation, but clearly Ivar didn’t handle it well. He was the youngest, it made sense to you. “None of this is real.”

Yet, the warning annoyed you. You wanted to get closer just to spite him. He was right, you two weren’t in a real relationship and they wouldn’t be a real family. It still wasn’t nice to say. His words distracted you from the mansion his family seemed to own.

“He didn’t tell you that we’re made of money, did he?” Hvitserk asked you with a lazy grin, he placed his arms around your shoulders. “If you’re going to become my sister then you’ll just have to get used to it.” You didn’t know his family that well but they didn’t deserve this. They were already making an effort and it was for a lie.

“Let me show you guys to your room,” Aslaug smiled. The inside of the house was just as beautiful as the outside. You never even saw something so big. It felt unreal. She showed the two of you one room. “I’m not going to bother pretending to be dumb. I know you two sleep together.”

You tried to stammer your way into a guest bedroom but she didn’t seem to be listening to you. “Dinner is at 7 if the two of you want it.” The room was on the ground floor, just outside was a view of the backyard and a river. It was huge. The only issue is that there was only one bed.

“You can stay on the floor,” Ivar answered before you could ask. The moment his mother was gone he didn’t hesitate to remind you where you were going to be sleeping. “I need the bed.”

It made sense. He had needs you didn’t. “Fine.” For some reason you expected to enter a fanfiction where there was only one bed and you were forced to share— it was evident the thought didn’t cross Ivar’s mind. “Can I at least have some pillows and blankets. I get cold.” You were more a tropical kind of person, and spent most of your life feeling cold.

“They’re in the closet.”

You watched as Ivar laid in the bed. He sighed heavily and sunk deep into it, as if finally resting. It looked like the euphoria you got from laying down after a run or a workout. Maybe he was more tired than he let on. “Is it soft?”

Ivar opened his eyes and stared at you, “what?”

“The bed, you just look really comfortable.”

He patted the side next to him. “It’s expensive. It ought to be.” You weren’t sure what he was doing at first until he did it again. “Try it.”

Tentatively, you walked over and sat down. Yours went wide as you immediately sunk into it and you were just sitting. Why is this so good? You couldn’t help but relax your body into it and lay down for a moment, just a manny. Any soreness was being sapped out. “Wow.”

“I know right.” The two of you laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.

Maybe you ought to try and get some money from the divorce, get yourself a mattress like this. You closed your eyes softly, your eyelids never felt so heavy.

“Now get out of my bed.” The words made your eyes shoot open. He decided it was time for you to go.

“What?”

“You’re about to fall asleep on my bed,” Ivar reminded you. “Which means you probably s shouldn’t be in it.”

You immediately got up and nearly fell on your way out. “You could’ve been nicer about it,” you glared. Being there for a moment was going to make it all the more difficult to lay on the floor. It was so hard compared to it— then again your own mattress was hard compared to his. “Did you do that just so I’d feel worse when I had to sleep on the floor? Knowing a bed like this existed just outside of my reach?”

Ivar laughed. “No. But that would’ve been a good idea. I like the way you think.”

“Are you two ready for dinner?” Aslaug knocked and entered the room.

“We’re not hungry,” Ivar answered for the both of you. You personally couldn’t agree with his statement but it was clear he wanted to be left alone from them and didn’t trust you to be alone with them.

“Get up. You have to go.” She entered the room further and before she could grab Ivar he was already up, as if repulsed by the idea of her touching him. You were quick to follow behind

Ivar grabbed his cane and started going. “Is there any reason?” Aslaug didn’t answer and instead bit her bottom lip before she left.

“What was that about,” you asked as you walked to the door. Ivar stared down where his mother left, deep in thought.

“I have a bad feeling about this. Mor is up to something.”

The two of you walked together out towards the common areas of the home when a number of people eagerly shouted, “welcome home!” It was a lot of people, and it became evident this is what Aslaug had been wanting them out of the room for.

A number of people came by to greet Ivar, he seemed ambivalent to the conversation at best and annoyed at worst. You were greeted as a secondary and remained far more polite. You knew nothing much at all and the best you do was follow, that didn’t seem to make things less annoying for Ivar. “Will you stop following me?”

“Where else would I—“

“Ivar!” An older man appeared and wrapped his arms around Ivar, a grin on his face. This was the first person Ivar didn’t instantly pull back from, and the laugh he made was genuine in response.

“Floki, you old bastard. I’m glad you could make it,” Ivar seemed to genuinely mean that. It made the whole thing even stranger to you.

Floki eyed you and then Ivar and then laughed, “how did an ugly poor cripple end up with a beautiful woman like this?” He immediately hugged you and pulled back. “Maybe it’s best not to question it. We wouldn’t want her to realize,” he winked at Ivar.

The two seemed to get along better than most and Ivar left with the man. You tried to follow but got cut off by the people who stood around talking to each other.

—

“He left you alone?”

It had been who knows how long since he had left and you hadn’t seen Ivar since. Where he was, it wasn’t here. And it was clear to you he didn’t care where ou were. Hivtserk appeared beside you and attempted to make you feel included.

“I’m used to it,” you shrugged.

Hvitserk furrowed his eyebrows, “the two of you make for an odd couple.”

Panic began to fill you. “I— no. Not really. We’re very real.” The words were dumb and you hated yourself for having made the sentence at all. “Normal, I mean, normal.” None of that made it better.

“Then you love him?” If Hvitserk didn’t believe you then he didn’t show it. The truth was harder to believe. That you were pretending to marry your boss so he could stay in the US and give you some big promotion.

“What? N—“ you couldn’t say no, “not yet. Or maybe.” You admired the man. But this was all fake. Still, he never appeared more human than in these past few days. It just sucked that he was never willing to keep doing that. Whenever he relaxed he was so quick to correct himself.

Hvitserk laughed at you, “then you probably do. He’s a difficult man to love but I’ve managed it.” How Ivar find it in himself to not talk to his family more, or show them more care? “I can tell from the way you look at him sometimes.”

Your face got flushed. You had to keep reminding yourself this whole thing was fake. Hvitserk was expecting these sorts of things and said them. Just like your coworkers. None of this was real. Yet, it felt easy to want to get swept away. “Well— I’m not sure if we’re quite there. He certainly isn’t.”

His brother shrugged, “maybe. But I’ve ever seen him let anyone tease him without getting hit with his cane for as long as you have. And he doesn’t bring women around to the family. That has to mean something.”

You knew why you were meeting his family. It was the same reason he seemed to tolerate this but— it was different. You wanted to be different. It would feel nicer that way, and you couldn’t quite understand why. Every soft moment lingered in your memory for too long and you desperately wanted to hold onto them. “Maybe,” your eyes caught Ivar.

It was the first time he was so casual and seemed relaxed. He was gorgeous. You allowed yourself more time to just stare at him, knowing he was none the wiser. “You’re good for him.”

“I certainly like to think I am.”

“Good,” Hvitserk responsed. “So where are you from?”

He started to ask question upon question about your origins and your life story. He seeemd more interested than anyone else here. You admitted you weren’t from money and that you were trying to make a name for yourself in New York.

“So how’d you meet Ivar?”

“I actually work for him,” you admitted. “He might act like a dick most the time but it’s gotten some amazing results. I admire what he can do, I just wished he went about it more... humanely,” you laughed.

Hivtserk watched you carefully, “fair enough. He was never very personable. And that doesn’t bother you?”

It did. A lot. “No.”

“Then maybe you two are suited for each other.”

The two of you weren’t. “I like to think to.”

—

Taglist** @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927

[azurevi]

on land where we can touch the moon (2/?)

PART 1 PART 3

A quick note- this is pretty messy. I'm planning as I write, so there'll be information scattered across the words, and it may be overwhelming...kinda. I have added a little note about what happened in this chapter in the end. This series is also up on ao3.

There is, naturally, a reason Azul was stuck with the name 'The Sea Merchant'.

It wasn't a bad name, and there was no hint of degradation in it. It just wasn't particularly suiting. Azul wasn't a merchant. He wasn't even a shopkeeper. He was just invested in a little magic, and this hobby of his got leaked out somehow. 

His magic was certainly something. It's A Deal allowed him to confiscate another person's valued quality in exchange for their wish. Anything could come to life as long as the deal was equal.

Only the drunk and people in desperate need of help ever went to him for help. After Azul had started mastering his magic, he reckoned that it hadn't been used to its full potential. If the person on the other side of the deal failed to meet the requirement, Azul could take even more from them without suffering any loss. 

And so he sugarcoated and exaggerated his words, put up the most professional smile he could manage. For a few weeks all was well. He'd gained himself a melodious voice, splendid flexibility and a ton of unique magics, but nothing great ever lasted. He was soon exposed as a scammer and his notoriety was whispered among the streets, passed on and on until every family warned their kids not to ever run into him. And Azul, with his fame and prosperity wilting under the gossip and points of fingers, was forced into giving up his success.

He had been in hiding ever since.

He could never understand how something as atrocious could happen to him. If it hadn't been for the sneers and isolation in the entirety of his childhood, he wouldn't have grown up hating everything and everyone around him that called him ugly, unwanted, repulsive. It should've justified his desire for revenge.

Instead, God decided that his suffering was not anywhere close to enough and kicked him down the cliff where he was crying for help.

That being said, Azul was grateful to have Jade and Leech sticking around after everything. The two of them were also unpopular among others, so they eventually got close as a tight-knitted trio.

"No you didn't," Jade said firmly. 

"I did, Jade. I did," Azul sighed, "They were dying, Jade, I couldn't just let them die,"

"Well, you should've."

"Don't be so uptight. Azul was doing the right thing, wasn't he?" Floyd winked. "So. Were they good-looking?"

"What?"

"The human. You must've saved them for a reason,"

Azul hated how Floyd's words implied that he would never do good unless there was something in it for him, but one could never lie in the face of truth. 

"I just didn't want to let them die. It was their birthday,"

"What does that have to do with everything?" Jade asked. "You went above the water. You saved a human. You were almost caught. You could've died up there, you know. How did you even manage to breathe?"

"I just… did." Azul said, twirling his tentacles in nervousness. Jade was entirely disapproving of his actions, while Floyd on the contrary seemed to be mildly intrigued. 

Everything still felt like a fever dream. All the fireworks and cheering and explosion were still vividly scorched into his mind as if they'd been put on repeat. The splendid colors, light giggles and- 

And those beautiful eyes of yours. The way your hair flowed in the night sky with ease, how you laughed like tomorrow was promised and your life had been planned out before you, a clear and untainted path to success. Azul couldn't decide on whether he was jealous or amazed.

"Well, you better hope they didn't really see you, or that they forgot about it. If the humans come down here to hunt us down-" Jade couldn't even bear to finish the imagination. He simply shook his head in dismay.

"I swear I saw someone! I couldn't have just been washed ashore!"

"Apparently, you were," Jack said, stroding with large steps that had you panting to keep up. "Near-death experiences do things to our mind, your majesty,"

"That may be the case for others, but I'm sure I was conscious," you retorted. "I woke up to a pair of pale, azure eyes, then in a blink they were behind the rock. If it hadn't been for you-"

"I apologize for worrying about you, your majesty."

You bit your tongue. Fighting with Jack always ended with him being passive-aggressive and you stepping back reluctantly. Plus he was as stern as a rock. Almost nothing could move his belief.

Shouting and grunting could be heard from inside the medical room where Ace, Deuce and Grim were being tended to.

Jack flung open the door, and the three stumbled to get into the blankets and put on a excruciated expression.

"I see you're all healed up," Jack said. Ace hummed lowly and slapped his forehead with the back of his hand. 

"I'm at death's door, commander. It pains me to say this, but I might need to take more days off,"

Jack was quiet for a while, and you could almost see a drop of sweat sliding down Ace's forehead.

"And you, Deuce?" Jack challenged.

"I'm traumatized," 

"And Grim?"

You arched your brow, at which he shivered in fear. "I- I'm feeling fine already,"

"So it's just Ace and Deuce, right?" Jack said. Ace and Deuce nodded their heads so hard they could fall off.

"Alright. Your health is of utmost importance to us, so I'll contact the Raven Healer…"

"The what?!" Deuce's voice croaked.

"The Raven Healer. Surely you've heard of him. He's best known for being able to treat any diseases, both mentally and physically,"

You were sure there were sweats rolling down Ace's cheeks now. "But- but doesn't he heal by using bizzare mediciness…?"

"Oh yes. His magic is what makes him such an infallible doctor. You two seem to be in a lot of pain. I'm sure he'll free you of your suffering."

You turned sharply towards the door and stifled a laughter. 

"That's… not very necessary…" Deuce's voice faltered word by word. He was fully aware that he'd already lost. "You know what, commander? I think I can dive back into work right this instant!"

Jack smirked smugly. "Splendid. And you, Ace?"

The two of them stared at each other so intensely there seemed to be sparkles between them. Finally, Ace gave in. "I'll start work tomorrow,"

They didn't even wait for Jack to walk completely out of the door to whine. They looked fully healthy, even more energized than you.

"Anyways, did you find your saviour?"

You sighed. Ace and Deuce were still skeptical about your 'story', which you'd corrected to 'experience', but at least they were open-minded. 

"No clues. I've had guards patrolling about every two hours. Nothing has yet to happen,"

They eyed each other uneasily, then back at you with a worried face. Before they could make assumptions, you defended yourself. "No, I'm not sick. My head's not concussed,"

"Well," Grim scurried to your lap. "Perhaps your saviour doesn't wish to be found?"

That'd be unwanted. You would wish for anything but to create troubles for your lifesaver. Nonetheless, you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep without sending your gratitude. 

Alright, there might be a selfish motif. You were admittedly curious about those light, pensive eyes and silvery, gleaming hair under sunlight. All these unknown were like a gravity pool, pulling you deeper and deeper into the mystery.

"Well, you ought not to lose hope," Ace patted your shoulder casually, like you weren't the princette of the kingdom he was serving for. "Maybe you'll actually run into him. Fate has a weird habit for setting unexpected traps."

It wasn't so much love as a tender curiosity, but the line segregating them was so flimsy that one's got to mix them up at some point.

Azul found himself in such a dilemma. He couldn't decide whether it was attraction or nosiness that he was feeling. Either way, it's got him hooked like a drug. Something beautiful had finally entered his life like light piercing through a thick fog of ink, and it was possessive. Azul had a feeling that it wouldn't go away until it had drained him of his mind.

The door to his room was thrown open and Azul had to hide the peeled petals and green stem in a jumble. He had been chanting 'they love me, they love me not' for the past hour. To his luck, Jade and Leech didn't seem to have noticed his haste expression. They were both panting when they swam inside.

"What's wrong?" Azul's first instinct was that something had gone south.

"There-" Floyd wheezed. "There's a sta-"

"There's a fallen statue in the Coral Maze," Jade finished the sentence. "People are fussing over it,"

"Okay," Azul eased back into his bed. He'd already lost interest at 'Coral Maze'. It was at the centre of where the majority of sea creatures inhabited. Nothing could make him go anywhere near civilization and its hubristic aesthetic again.

Or so he thought.

"No- you don't get it. It's a statue of a human that sank along with wreckages of a big ship, and it's made of gold,"

A statue made of gold.

He recalled it now. It was supposed to be your birthday present. The consternation of what followed the present revelation had been so intense that it'd washed the memory of the statue out.

"We just thought that it could be the statue you mentioned in your story, you know? It looked really grand…" Floyd sighed.

Azul wanted to get up and swim over right there, right then, but he knew he couldn't. What would others say to him the moment they saw the shadows of their tentacles crawling on their pure and oh-so royal ground? What accusations would they throw his way? How many children will be led away from him like he was some man-eating, brutal abomination?

Not to mention the unforgiving rage he'd evoked in trying to scam them in the past. Dishonesty was highly criticised in their high-class society. It was as if they were saints that had never done one thing wrong. Bet they'd never even stayed up past midnight.

"You ought to come take a look!" Floyd suggested. A casual, friendly proposal.

"No," Azul snapped. "No, no. I'm not going there,"

"They're planning to use the gold," Jade said. "You know how they are. They see one thing from the ground and start screeching in pain,"

They were going to use your statue. The statue that was perhaps the only thing that was related to you, the one way to never have to forget about you again in case that you never met again.

And to imagine the effect it'd add to his collections! A big gold statue in the centre of his grotto, accentuated by the sparkling of other jewelries. It'd be complete.

"I'll sit on it," Azul decided. He was not to act rashly, lest he walked one step wrong and brought upon himself misery and misfortune. If he really was to pay a visit, he would act in secret. Perhaps in the veil of the night. 

"Just don't act alone, okay?" Jade said. Azul nodded despite not paying any mind to him.

In the dead of the night Azul decided to sneak out. Alone. It was a mistake, really. Azul couldn't stop thinking about your statue, and by the time he realized how absurd it was, he'd already gone to the Coral Maze.

There was nary a shadow except his own. Still, it was much lighter than where he lived even at night. The distorted image of the moon waved from above as Azul made his way through the many identical corals. Then he finally found your majestic statue standing solemnly in the centre. The only beauty in the water.

It was a sight for sore eyes. White, pure light reflected off the gold and created streams of gleams onto the ground. That someone would ever find it to be disgraceful was incomprehensible to Azul. Something like this deserved to be put on display in the museum for all to see.

There was no radiance on your face and no splendid colors in your eyes. It was merely a fraction of what you were. Nonetheless, it was enough for Azul.

"Who's roaming there?" an alerted voice asked. When Azul turned, he saw a silhouette looming from outside the Coral Maze, holding two anglerfishes in hands and waving them in the water.

Panic was the only thing Azul felt as he hid behind the statue, struggling to keep his tentacles out of sight. The light stayed right in front of him for a while before skimming away.

Azul grabbed the statue and swam, pushing his tentacles through the water as hard as he could. 

"Wait there- oh goodness!" 

There were several voices now, mumbling and inquiring. Then light was casted upon his flitting figure and there were bemused gasps before someone yelled, "Seize him!"

Azul was out of breath. He wished he excelled in fitness but instead he was stuck with incongruous tentacles that would never cooperate at the most needed times.

A hand grasped the end of his tentacle but slipped off. He kept the statue tight in his arms, as if his life depended on it. He could tell that they were near now, and was trying very hard not to imagine the gruesome outcomes.

Someone grabbed his tentacles. He faltered and was pulled back despite protests.

"Keep him in place!" another person yelled as the crowd moved to keep Azul fenced in.

Azul couldn't see anything. Everything was a poor mixture of shadow and distaste and sneers. He was probably going to die right there.

"I can't believe you have the guts to come back, Ashengrotto. After all the things you've done!" someone spoke up.

"Yeah! How shameless of you!”

"And he's stealing our properties now! Imagine how desperate he is,"

"You guys don't even want it!" Azul said.

Some guy lurched forward. Azul cowered backwards.

"It's disgusting, yes, but it's still gold." he said as if it was a completely just thing to do. "It landed on our ground, so it belongs to us. On the contrary, you don't have the rights to lay your filthy hands on it. What more do you want to steal from us?"

"I'm taking this because none of you understand the beauty of it!"

This evoked a negative reaction from the crowd, but words could never be taken back. Azul could feel his heart pounding like a prisoner hellbent on escaping. He had to escape. No more of this degrading gazes. No more of the points of fingers.

"Beauty?" the guy scoffed, and for a moment his face scrunched up and he was ready to spit out rage, but then it softened into a smug smirk. "I guess only ugly understands ugly, huh?"

Azul's head throbbed.

"It doesn't justify your actions, ink-blasting thief. Hand that piece of trash over right- uff!"

He was flung deep into the water until he disappeared into nothing but a black dot. People around Azul immediately made way as they fled in screams and wails. His tentacle was still tingling with the impact, but he couldn't quite feel it. Even if he did, he couldn't care less as he skyrocketed to the surface of the water. He blinked and blinked, but his eyes were still blurred by what would be mixed into the seawater eventually. 

He'd had enough. Heard enough, seen enough. If he'd spent one more second down there he would have suffocated to death.

The familiar freshness of air welcomed him the moment he broke through the water's persistence. The land wasn't far ahead. He swam towards it as if it was his sanctuary. 

There was a man sitting on the rock, face hidden under the hood. Azul considered retreating. He had no idea what would happen to him if he was spotted, but nothing better would happen if he were to go back. So he continued swimming and crawled onto the cool soft sand, only letting his head be seen by the man as he hid behind yet another rock where he placed the much valued statue.

He seemed to be asleep, chest heaving up and down at a steady pace. Just as Azul started sliding out, the man raised his head and looked straight at Azul.

They were a pair of humming, white circles, seemingly void of any sentiments. The man had a mask on that shielded his face except for his tightly shut lips. Two crows were staring right at him with the same uncanny manner.

"You've finally arrived," the man said.

Probably the humans had been searching for him. Azul decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I've been hearing your calls…" he tilted his head. "You can come out. I know what you are,"

Azul still hesitated. But he was much closer to the ocean than to the guy, so he slowly let his tentacles into light.

The man remained calm, not a bit taken back by the revelation.

"Well, I've been hearing your calls…" he resumed.

"I never called out to any humans,"

"Not literally. But you have been calling out a lot," he smiled amiably. "You have to know that it's especially hard for me to hear from creatures undersea, so if your wishes managed to reach me, it means you're pretty desperate,"

"I think you have the wrong person," Azul said and started retreating.

The guy sprang up and his crows curled up together beside him. "Wait- I should introduce myself first. I'm the Raven Healer,"

Azul pondered for a while. "That doesn't explain anything except for the crows,"

"You lots haven't heard of me?" he frowned so deep that his brows and eyes were a cluster. "You guys are really secluded,"

That was when Azul finally realized that he knew about them. About all the lives and creatures that inhabited the deep sea.

"And I mean no harm to your realm. My only target is you," he smiled again, this time at an ominous angle.

"Well, I'm quite famous in this realm. I heal people for a living, whether it be physical or emotional needs. Anything you need, I can grant you,"

That's not very different from Azul's magic. 

"Sometimes, when someone is really desperate for a change, their thoughts can be heard by my crows. And you, Azul Ashengrotto…" his smile dropped a bit and his eyes drooped. "is particularly distressed,"

"Alright. It was nice meeting you," Azul nodded respectfully. The man didn't seem to be harmful. If he fled right now, he could probably throw him off.

The Raven Healer stilled, then burst into piles of blatant laughter. "No, no. I've been looking for you, don't you get it? I'm here to grant your wish!"

I'm here to grant your wish. Like how Azul'd promoted his business as the Sea Merchant.

"I understand that you've been suffering quite a lot, and that you want a change. But nothing ever comes without a cost… I'm sure you can understand,"

The healer stood up, the material of his greatcoat fluttering in the wind. He made his way freely to Azul, who could only freeze up as he inspected the statue with great interest.

"The heir to the throne! I see why you're desperate now. They're a real catch," the healer then looked down at the outstretched tentacles without a word. Azul prayed in his mind that he would turn away from them.

"Well, here are my terms. I will grant you a pair of legs in exchange for your magic,"

Wait, what?

Azul was pretty sure the Raven Healer was just imitating him now. A great figure appearing out of the blue to answer your hopes. The catch was that the figure would always take away your most important thing. It was never a fair deal, Azul was aware.

"I don't think you need my magic," Azul breathed.

"Why, I do!" he exclaimed. "Collecting magic is a splendid hobby of mine! It is because of all these magic that I am such a renowned magician,"

He was obviously lying. His smile couldn't reach his eyes, and the orbs where his eyes were supposed to be were humming like a hazard label.

"I think I'll be just fine," Azul hurriedly brought the statue to his chest and started sliding away.

"...How are you going to survive?"

"What?" Azul swiveled, exhausted.

"Up here. With your…" the healer wiggled his fingers.

"I'll find a way,"

"No you won't," the healer protested. Azul looked up to the sky, took a deep breath and decided to entertain him. 

"Why so?"

"You're gonna cause ruckus. Chaos. People are not especially used to seeing half-man half-octopuses roaming their land," he said honestly. 

Despite knowing all this, Azul still considered his word rude. There was a thin line between blunt and disrespectful, and he'd just crossed it. 

"There won't be anyone dealing with you, will there?"

"...I suppose not-"

"Exactly! I am your only hope!" he exclaimed once again, throwing his hands up in the air like a dramatist. "Unless you want to go back?"

Azul glanced at the serene water. He knew that down there, the mermaids and mermen must be panicking over what'd just happened.

"You can't hold onto that statue forever. If you really wish to stay here-"

"I just came, Mr. Healer. I'm not going to stay,"

"Yet. Come on now," he groaned, as if he was the one exasperated. "I know you want it. You need it. So what are you waiting for? You're never going to see all the beauties in this world in this state!"

He was right. Agonizingly right. He couldn't just walk around as an octopus. It would be like a stain on a quaint painting. Moreover, now that he was here, he couldn't just give up the chance to find you again. It's not like the ocean would welcome him anyways.

As if hearing his thoughts, the Raven Healer reached his hand out, "Deal? Your magic for a pair of legs. It's a fantastic trade if you think about it,"

One second. Two second. Azul didn't wait until the third to act on it. The moment their skin touched, Azul felt a stream of warmth coursing through him, rushing to his throat, where he choked up a luminous blue orb. It was within the healer's fingers within seconds.

"And your legs," he rummaged inside his pocket. There seemed to be numerous tiny objects inside as he dug around. Finally, he pulled up a thumb-size bottle and handed it to Azul.

He downed the slimy liquid inside under the healer's encouraging nods, and almost gagged at the sensation. "Guh! What the hell is-"

His tentacles started glowing a bright yellow, bright enough to attract people in this dead of the night. They started to shrink until they completely disappeared, and a pair of human legs replaced them.

He couldn't believe his eyes as he stretched around and surveyed the changes on his body. It took him quite some time to adjust to it, but he was surprisingly good at it. The fabric of the pants that came with the gift fluttered against his 'flesh' like a mother's caress. He felt normal, for once. Not some ugly monster that preyed on innocent kids. Not a marginalized criminal. Not even a wicked fraud. He was just a human wanting to explore the world.

"Three days," the Raven Healer said.

"What?" Azul was too joyous to pay real mind.

"If you can't find the most beautiful thing after three days, you will dissolve into sea bubbles,"

Azul stilled as he comprehended his words, then he started to chant no in his mind. He'd fallen for his trap.

"You didn't mention it at all!" Azul yelled. "Refund! You're scamming me!"

"The pot's calling the kettle black now. How comical," the healer giggled. Azul's heart dropped to the bottom.

"Consider this your own medicine. It's not like you're completely at loss over here!"

"Wait!" Azul reached out to grasp his fainting figure, which had become an opaque vision. 

"We shall reunite in three days. Until then, enjoy."

All that was left was the crashing of the waves and songs of the crickets. Bathed in the glow of the moon, Azul finally came to the conclusion that he'd fucked up.

Life never stopped to give him a break. There were haste footsteps nearing from behind. Azul instinctively retracted his tentacles, but forgot about their absence and tripped instead.

"Yikes! That was a nasty fall. Are you okay?" 

Looking up, two formally looking men were standing above him, one with crimson hair and another navy. There was a sword attached to each of their sides.

"Yeah. I-I'm fine," Azul cleared his throat and stood up.

"Are you homeless?" The redhead asked and was immediately hit by his companion.

"You can't go around asking people whether they are homeless!" he scolded, then turned to Azul brightly. "You must be in search of shelter! Please follow us!"

"That isn't any better," 

"Shut up," the blue-haired snapped with the same polite smile. "Come on, Mr…?"

"A-Azul. Azul Ashengrotto,"

"Yes, Mr. Ashengrotto. We can't have you catching a cold out here,"

Despite his friendly facade, Azul could see underlying motives lurking beneath. But clueless that he was, he didn't have a choice but to follow suit towards the castle-like building in the far distance.

"Your majesty will be pleased to see you," the redhead murmured, but Azul couldn't quite catch that.

"What was that?" he asked.

"It's nothing," was all that he received. "Just that you'll surely love the place."

Conclusion : Azul had once gone around scamming others with his unique magic but was busted and had been further criticised since. The Raven Healer is obviously Crowley, and his magic will be further explained in next chapter.

[vajranam]

Ten Wrong Views

The objective basis of wrong views is infallible doctrines such as the law of karmic causality. With assertions like those made by the Nihilists, one perceives such doctrines as false and desires to deprecate them, motivated by one of the afflictions.

The execution comes when one believes these doctrines to be utterly false, thereby confirming one’s suspicions. The act is complete when one feels conviction about this. The fully ripened result of wrong views is a rebirth in whichever of the lower realms is most fitting. The result that resembles its cause is ignorance of the genuine view. As the dominant result, good and evil will be mistaken.

Similarly, when the ten nonvirtuous acts are classified in terms of their respective level of severity, all of the following are extremely severe: motivated by an intensely afflicted mind-set, to murder extraordinary persons such as one’s guru (which is serious from a spiritual point of view) or one’s parents (which is serious from a worldly point of view); or to deceive, steal from, and create divisions between such persons; to insult them; or to harbor a covetous or malicious attitude toward them.

Likewise, to have sexual relations with someone holding the vows of discipline or any other unacceptable partner; to lie and sow discord in order to create a schism within the sangha, as Devadatta did; to assert that there is no such thing as a foe-destroyer; to kill a large animal motivated by a desire for its flesh and blood; to steal many things and those that are very valuable; and to delight in negativity without confessing and committing [to refrain from such acts in the future]. Such acts are extremely weighty, and the opposites of these acts are light.

By way of explanation, the bodhisattva Padma writes:

The ten nonvirtues and the five acts of immediate retribution,

The five close and four weighty acts,

The eight mistaken acts and severe misdeeds—

Even at the cost of your life, abandon even the most minor of these.

The vows that are in harmony with the ten virtues,

Those of the layman, novice, one-day retreatant, fully ordained monk,

And others of individual liberation, also bodhisattva vows and those of Secret Mantra—

Embrace and safeguard the vows you have taken. If you desire liberation,

Safeguard them carefully, as you would your own life.

With a thorough understanding of the classifications just discussed, which pertain to acts and their respective results, examine your mind to clearly identify which of them is the most dominant.

Meditate until your interest and enthusiasm prompts you to think, “Alas! I’ve amassed an immeasurable amount of such negativity up until now, but since my acts have not been embraced with mindful awareness, I’ve wandered in a state of indifference. Like a barbarian, I never knew that I was accumulating karma; what a huge mistake! As represented by the ten nonvirtues, from here on out, whenever a negative mind-set occurs, whether subtle or coarse, I will apply an antidote and turn the other way. Yet this alone will not suffice; I will also work courageously to practice the opposite of such negativity—virtue! I will arouse diligence so intense that it is as though my hair or clothes are on fire, and I will apply myself to the ten virtuous actions, such as renouncing killing.”

The master Vasubandhu once wrote:

Because observable phenomena and so forth

Will be experienced, there are three definite types.

There are stories of evil people like Devadatta, Shasarakisha, Shridhara, and others [who committed such extremely negative acts] that they had conscious experiences of going to hell without leaving their bodies behind. Such evil people have created karma that is sure to bring them a rebirth in the lower realms.

Unless you are such a person, you should think, “Alas, to attain liberation and omniscience one needs to completely do away with the very roots of such nonvirtue, but if I think about it, in this lifetime alone I have consciously amassed so much negativity.

And this doesn’t reflect even a fraction of what I’ve accumulated in my previous lives! It’s only logical that I’ve amassed an inconceivable amount of negativity for the sake of my friends, students, subjects, community, and so on. What’s more, the results of these acts will be experienced by me alone; these acts that I’ve consciously committed cannot be shared with anyone else.”

On this point, Master Nagarjuna explains:

Do not commit negative actions for Brahmins, monks, gods,

Guests, your parents, queens, or companions—

For there will be no one with whom to share the result

When it ripens as a rebirth in hell.

That being so, you may think to yourself, “Oh no, not me! Not me! It looks like once I pass away, I’ll have no choice but to endure the lower realms!” Inevitably, you will sink into despair, and it is at this moment that you will realize the implicit harm of karmic consequences.

Nowadays people merely pay lip service to virtue and nonvirtue without directly recognizing the most basic principles concerning what they should do and not do. In this sense, they are hardly better than barbarians. In truth, this is nothing more than a state of apathy.

Due to the kindness of our enlightened teachers, however, we now see that our actions and their results do not just disappear. How fortunate!

It isn’t enough, however, simply to see that and become fearful and withdrawn. With the four powers complete, you need to confess earnestly and restrain yourself, with a firm sense of regret for what you have done. You should then devote yourself to enlightened activities.

Our Teacher, with his great compassion and skillful methods, said that if you do not err in terms of what to do and not do, past negativity can be purified through earnest confession and self-restraint, even if one has engaged in extremely violent acts in the past, such as those with immediate retribution.

Letter to a Friend states:

One without conscience in the past

Who later on becomes conscientious

Is a thing of beauty, like the moon revealed by parting clouds,

As was Nanda, Angulimala, Darshaka, and Udayana.

The Buddha’s relative Nanda was extremely attached to his wife, Pundarika. To address the situation, the Thus-Gone skillfully led him both to a divine city and to hell. This tamed Nanda’s desire, and he eventually became a foe-destroyer.

Angulimala killed 999 people, and Ajatashatru killed his father, Bimbisara. Though they had committed acts of immediate retribution, they were purified through confession and restraint and both later attained the level of foe-destroyers.

Udayana killed his own mother, but from that moment on, he regretted what he had done and began to behave in a morally correct manner. He ended up being born in hell for as long as it takes to throw a silk ball; he later attained the level of a stream-enterer.

Accordingly, as soon as you recall such negative actions, you should cultivate a deep sense of regret and exert yourself in the methods of confession. This is a most profound point, so you should train in the recitation of the Sutra in Three Parts.

Furthermore, in the context of these instructions, failure to recognize the aforementioned ten nonvirtues and their corresponding results must be avoided. Whenever these come to mind, the antidote is to recite the Sutra in Three Parts while adhering to the vital points of the four powers.

Alternate meditating on these two practices over and over again. From now on, be mindful and aware of all nonvirtue, and crush any negative thoughts as soon as they arise.

In the context of the main practice, always follow the example set by Atisha Dipamkara: confess in the morning the negativity that you accumulate in the morning, and confess at bedtime the negativity that you accumulate in the afternoon. Don’t let negativity or downfalls stay with you for even a day!

Some people take this to mean that simply confessing in this manner is enough. With this understanding, they behave wantonly, with no sense of restraint when it comes to immoral behavior and nonvirtue. However, it is a grave mistake to think that merely reciting a few words of confession morning and night will suffice, for doing so will overwhelm the confession outlined above, in which one confesses with a remorseful attitude using the four powers.

It will also result in the instant degeneration of the mind-set of restraint, where one thinks: “I won’t do this again even if it costs me my life!” Hence, this is a misguided belief that eclipses all the infallible doctrines concerning the interdependence of actions and their results.

The terms and principles that have been presented thus far should be given serious consideration. If all worldly activities fail to repulse you, like food repulses someone with jaundice, what you have heard are just quotations and what you have read are just words. This will not allow your mind to reach the level of mastery.

The Great Master of Oddiyana said:

Seek out whatever Buddhist transmissions and teachings there are.

When you study the sacred Dharma, if you don’t use the right attitude

To grasp the terms and principles, it will be like pouring water

Onto an upside-down vessel: none will go inside.

When the anguish of samsara wells up, they won’t be of any benefit!

However wonderful worldly wealth may be, like a candle in the wind, a dew drop in summer, a flash of lightning in the sky, or last night’s dream, it is utterly impermanent and unreal. Hence, you should always stay in isolated places and cultivate a sense of disenchantment, trusting with all your heart that whatever you have will be enough.

Take refuge in the fact that you will be joyful when sick and happy when dying. Let people say what they will, as if they are talking about a corpse. Like a wandering leper, yearn to be totally on your own, without even song birds to keep you company. Occupy your mind with meditating on your enlightened guru’s instructions.

The Great Master of Oddiyana said:

This world is a land of sadness;

The wonderful joy and happiness of beings,

Like a dew drop in summer or wealth in a dream,

Is unreal and swiftly gone.

From such things come distorted desires and carelessness.

So always cultivate a disenchanted frame of mind.

Those who hold worldly splendor in great esteem

Are of a class with inferior merit.

Your heart, like a rotten tree,

Will never bear the fruit of liberation.

Alas, how sad! The mind that thinks of the wealth

And prosperity of this life as wonderful and lasting,

The mind that thinks it to be stable and excellent,

Belongs to the most base of all immature beings!

Who in this world could be more foolish than that?

No one in the past and no one in the future!

Steps to the Great Perfection

The Mind-Training Tradition of the Dzogchen Masters

Jigme Lingpa

SNOW LION BOULDER

[colorfullfalls]

Adore you

Summary: Sam and Emily finally get to their wedding day. The outside venue is beautiful and everything is in order except for the fact that Embry and you are fighting.

La Push, ah. What a wonderful- dare say mystical place to be. Waves roared violently against the beach, crashing roughly into the minuscule pieces of sand. Rain pelted among the ground, mixing with ocean, grass, sand, skin, and materials. Clothes stuck to russet toned flesh, sticking like a temporary tattoo for a child.

Panting hard, Embry Call's hands reached up his hands to pushed back Y/N's hair away from her neck, peeling the thick mop away to rest on the other side. Her eyes refused to meet his, wavering to look at the waves. She wished she was anywhere on Earth but in front of him. The way he looked at her hurt. His face held the upmost gaze of betrayal, beautiful brown orbs burning you from the inside out.

Behind her ear held the mark that would cause wretching heartache. A dainty black tattoo rested, rooting anger between the two. Tattoos were meant to be meant to have a deep meaning, and her's did. It was a sail boat. A symbol for the sea. Vast area of the unknown that humans did not get the privledge of ruining. Getting their hands and tainting the beauty it beheld. Embry did not mind her logic behind it, nor did he dislike her love for the sea. But the tattoo. He hated it. Disgust curled in his stomach, gripping his ribs like quicksand and pulling. He wanted to scream.

"You lied."

His words came off venomously. A snake's bite. Harsh syllables announciated with distrust. And pain. Mostly pain. You bit your lip to stop it from trembling. Crying would not solve the issue that was present because you betrayed him. Broke his heart a bit when you swore to guard it and protect the beautiful organ.

"I'm sorry, Embry. It was impulsive-"

He cut you off by shriveling back by your words. A cold laugh escaped his lips, "Damn right it was impulsive. Must've been if you couldn't have talked to me about it."

Fighting over a tattoo seemed dumb. But not in this situation. Embry was not mad that you got a tattoo. It was that the sailboat was your first tattoo. Years ago you promised Embry at the ripe age of 13 that you two would get your first one together. You a small sun and him a small moon. Both on your hips so that it would be a private thing. The ultimate proclamation of love. It was obvious as kids that you two were meant to be, even before you were his imprint. You were raised as best friends. Learned together. Aged together. Grew as individuals together. When the promise was made and 13 you had not yet been lovers, but it was a promise as two beings connected molecularly as best friends.

Even dating you two were still best friends. No one understood you like Embry, and no one ever would. His corny jokes made you laugh so hard that snorts would skip out of your nose. His hugs melted you to the bones. He made you feel complete. Best friends turned lovers, but best friends still for eternity.

"I didn't tell you to avoid this! I knew a fight would ensue." You cried out helplessly, feeling incredibly guilty but defensive at the same time.

"Why do it then? Or maybe consider taking to me about it, telling me at the least. You hid this for, well, it has to have been a while. Clearly healed." He deadpanned, pointing to it like it cut his foot off.

"It's been three weeks, Em."

His eyes lit up in realization, "You wouldn't have sex with me in the daylight. I figured it was just odd timing but no. Just blatantly lying to me to cover this up."

Tears welled in your eyes at how removed your gentle boyfriend was. You didn't recognize the person in front of you. Not that you didn't fully deserve it, but it still stung to see the love of your life so repulsed by your actions. Your female best friend convinced you to get one with her when her long time girlfriend broke her heart. She said she needed it to heal. And you. Against your better judgement, your ass was in a leather chair while a needle plunged relentlessly into your skin. You loved her and wanted to be there for her. Your mind was foggy when it happened due to a few drinks in you too.

Your best friend knew that you and Em talked about getting tattoos together, but she didn't know it was such a sacred vowel or else she never would have helped you break it. She got an eye that had a ring around it like a planet on her forearm. She was an artist and drew it up herself. It meant a lot to her. You loved her, but now you were paying for the actions.

"Y/bff/n made you get this?"

"What?! No! Of course not. I willingly did it, but a few drinks were in me. Which doesn't excuse it, but she got one too. Not like marching or anything..."

Embry stared.

You scrambled to get in as much as you could without interruption, "Wholeheartedly my heart is pounding with guilt that I broke our pact to get our first tattoo together. But to be fair you already have yours."

Embry shook his head in disbelief, "Are you fucking me right now? It wasn't my choice to get this. It's membership into the pack, Y/N. My culture."

You sighed, "I know that Embry, and I'm not trying to disrespect that. I love you and the pack. I love your culture. Undoubtedly it's your first tattoo though. We can get our second together."

You tried to grab his hand but he pulled it away, searing a burn mark right into your heart. Rain pelted down even harder. What had been a nice beach date went to hell when Embry went to move your hair back to kiss your neck when he saw it. Usually you could dodge his attempts to get close to there, but you were so blissed out by his intoxicating kisses that your mind wasn't all there. Ironically the weather went to shit as soon as fighting began.

"Don't touch me. I don't want to hurt you." What you failed to notice earlier was that his hands were shaking. Typically you could caress his bicep or face and he would melt into you. Today the same touches would have the opposite effect. No matter how angry he was, he was terrified to harm you. Any wound inflicted by him would drive him crazy. He loved you. Forever. Even when he was furious he was cautious to keep you safe. This only made you feel worse.

"I think I rather have you physically hurt me than you be angry with me." You mumbled, sniffling at how bad you just wanted to touch him.

He snarled. His veins bulged as he pointed at you, "Shut up! How dare you wish for something like that?"

"I don't wish for that. I'm just saying us fighting is unbearable!"

"You just said you rather me hurt you physically! You want scars like Emily? You want me to be in withering pain and agony as you bleed on the floor?!" He bellowed, shaking even worse.

You let out a sob at his words. This all escalated too quickly. His eyes softened momentarily at your cry but his anger got the best of him as he reminded himself why you were crying. He scrambled to throw his clothes off. His body contorted until his grey wolf stood tall in front of you.

It whimpered, but turned and booked it for the woods. Leaving you alone with his clothes, the rain, guilt, heartache, and the beach. You slid down to your knees, clutching his shirt to your chest.

Emily's wedding was tomorrow. She would look gorgeous in her wedding dress, smile beaming with every step down the aisle towards her wolf. Laughs, happy tears, and hugs would be shared between the wedding and reception. Of course dancing would be a necessity. You were unsure if you were going to be involved in their experience anymore. The pack loved you. You were one of them. But with Embry so upset and not knowing when you two would makeup, maybe it was for the best if you stayed home.

Half an hour later you were still on the beach crying. Jacob ran next to you, scooping you up in his strong arms. You snuggled into his warmth, wishing that it was Embry instead. After everything you still wanted him to be with you. Jacob took you home and helped you dry off before leading you into the shower to encourage you to take a hot shower. If you got sick Embry wouldn't be happy with his packmate.

He sat in the livingroom as you got dressed in the bathroom. You sheepishly walked out, embarrassed of the state he had found you in. His large frame took up the lounge chair. Two cups of hot tea sat on the coffee table.

"For me?" You asked, gesturing to the cup. He picked one up and handed it to you before taking his own. It felt good going down your throat. Warm and reassuring.

"Embry should not have phased like that. He feels like an ass for losing control like that." Jake began.

"He had enough control to strip first. I wasn't in danger." You assured.

Jake nodded, "I saw the whole fight go down. I was on patrol."

You laughed sadly. Poor Jacob had to relive Embry's anger and pain through the shared pack bond. He seemed to not be effected by it. You wondered how Embry was doing now. Texting him seemed like a bad idea. Especially with how things were left.

"It was an ugly fight. Worst one to date. His eyes held repulsion, Jake. Like he could barely look at me. This tattoo is giving me hell."

Jake sighed, motioning for you to come sit next to him. You squeezed into the chair with him, resting on his lap. Jake was like your brother that would help you through anything. His warm hand rubbed your back lightly to assure you that he was there. He would always be there.

"Life is weird and there's a lot that I don't know. What I do know is that if anyone is meant to be together, it's you two. Bonded and meant to be before he even shifted. Imprints are strong but you two are even more. This fight is a pebble that will chip away, I promise."

"Thanks but I don't know. He looked crushed. Phasing like that.. showing up to the wedding tomorrow might not be good. I'm not going."

Jake recoiled, "What? Of course you have to attend! Emily wants you there. Screw Embry. Tomorrow is about Sam and Emily and they certainly need you there. You're family."

"Don't say screw him." You mumbled. Feeling defensive was part of the bond, "I will think about it."

Jake ignored you scolding him because he understood the loyalty you felt for Embry. He felt the same exact way towards Reneesme. Rough times caused fighting like any other couple, but the bond required unconditional love and affection. Some portrayed it as toxic, but you didn't. Relationships typically didn't happen like this but you couldn't stay mad at Embry while growing up. It was an impossible defeat.

"You're a bridesmaid, not going would be terrible. Embry wants you there whether he admits it right now or not. I'll come pick you up, make sure you go."

You sighed, nodding. Lack of your presence would only cause a bigger rift between you two. On top of that, Emily would be crushed and that would make Sam frustrated towards you too. And that would lead to arguing between Sam and Embry because another wolf cannot be rude to an imprint. You helped plan this wedding and you deserved to be there. Jake was giving you big puppy dog eyes. Begging like Embry did. Begging that you could not deny.

"Fine."

Jake stood up, "I will see your pretty face tomorrow."

***

Hours later you laid in bed. Ceiling fan high blast cooling the room. Goosebumps danced across your skin, chilling you more than it should. Embry's warm embrace should've sheltered you from the breeze, making the ceiling fan actually necessary compared to his radiating heat. He wasn't with you tonight. You were alone. Restless. Where did he go if he didn't come home to you? Was he on Jared's couch? Sharing Quil's bed like he did when they were kids? Back home with his mom?

Phone screen said 2:41. Four hours after you laid down. Sleep was battling you, heart beating too fast with each memory of the argument. His hurt tone rang through your ears. Past text messages assured you that things would get better between you two. His corny jokes and memes made joy fill you.

This fight was dumb.

Your thumbs typed out all the words you wanted to say and you were about to send it you saw three dots meaning that he was typing too. He was reaching out too! The three dots dissapeared with a lack of text. Mood officially dampened. Who knew texting could be an emotional roller coaster.

Hours later your ass was seated in an uncomfortable chair while your hair was being done. Makeup had been applied an hour ago and you already wanted it off. Your upset hands liked to rest on your face and makeup didn't allow that. Emily and the other girls were chirpy. Gorgeous teeth on show from beaming. You did your best to match their mood. Key word, tried.

"Okay, you're hair is done. Go get in your dress!" Emily cooed, hands on either side of your shoulder. You offered a smile.

Putting on the dress took help from Leah. She was in a sour mood. Her first love getting married to her cousin and all. It was reasonable and truly expected. She may be a shape shifter, but human she still was. Her warm hands zipped up the back of the dress. Leah sensed your bad vibe like second nature.

"Go find Embry, makeout for a minute and get over with whatever the hell this is. It's ridiculous. You two are disgustingly in love. Fix it because it's dragging us all down." Her words were honest. Leah was always honest. Basically in her DNA.

You snorted, "We are not making out here. Im sorry that this is impacting you guys too, but this is not getting dealt with today. Emily and Sam are getting married."

"Won't be perfect if our favorite couple is on the outs."

"Favorite couple?" You questioned.

She nodded as if her sentence was as obvious as stating that the vast sky was blue. You rolled your eyes and moved the bottom of the dress so that it was in place. The light pink silk dress suited you. It suited all of the bridesmaids. Nice dress. Emily had great taste. Speaking of the devil, Emily walked around the corner. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of you and Leah. As if it wasnt her wedding day. As if she wasn't the most stunning looking woman for the day.

"Gorgeous! Oh my goodness, you both look amazing. Thank you for sharing this day with me," her eyes shifted to her Leah, "Especially you, Leah. I know I don't deserve your support considering what happened on your wedding day, but it means the world to me that you are here."

"Yep." Leah gave a tight smile. Emily's face fell at the lack of words from her cousin. You sighed and nudged Leah. She rolled her eyes but tried, "This isn't easy but I'm doing it. For you."

Emily closed the distance between them and pulled her cousin in for a hug. Tension resides and still would for a while, but the bond was slowly mending. Cousin like sisters trying to reconnect. It was hard when Leah was the one who lost everything and Emily gained what she had. Leah still did have one thing. Seth. And you. Seth was her brother and best friend. He always had her back. But you did too. Days after Embry introduced you to the pack you befriended her.

You felt intrusive of the moment so you walked out into the hall. A few doors down led to the outside. Some fresh air would be lovely. Sunshine fluttered through the glass door when you arrived. Glancing outside you halted.

Embry.

Black material covered his toned body, rose sitting perfectly on his left peck. His brown floppy hair was styled perfectly. Your fingers longed to run through the thick locks. You should've been the one to help him do his hair rather than peaking at him behind a door like a child that is supposed to be in time out. He was standing with Jake and Quil. His two friends were laughing as Embry leaned against the wall. Not laughing. Although his face didn't look miserable like yours did.

Jake's eye caught yours and you froze, terrified of what would happen next. Talking to Embry in front of them would most likely cause more issues. You knew Jake would side with you and Quil would side with Embry. Quil was forever Embry's best friend. Jake could see past that.

"There's Y/N." Jake spoke. Embry leaned off the wall and looked around for you. And there you were. Looking gorgeous as ever on the other side of the door. His face faltered into vulnerability as he realized how sad you looked. He did that. He made you sad. Before he could do anything you walked away. He grunted in annoyance, hitting the brick wall behind him.

"Fuck!"

Line up for walking down the isle was what you dreaded because obviously Embry was your match. Room silent as you grudgingly came to stand beside him. His eyes scanned over your beautiful face in sorrow. You busied yourself by picking at your nails. A tick that you did when you avoided confrontation.

Walking down the isle, an arm intertwined in his was mandatory. You did it. Sparks flew up your arm at touching him after so long. His warm skin blazed against yours pleasantly. During the wedding Embry kept stealing glances at you. You noticed and held his gaze when you could.

Sam and Emily's vowels were beautiful. Raw and true words about their unconditional love. Hell Emily has scars on her face from his anger and they got past that. Certainly you could get over Embry shifting yesterday. He did look incredibly handsome across from you.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The crowd cheered as Sam and Emily kissed. He dipped her back like a princess and the cheers only got louder. Kim nudged your shoulder and you two shared a smile when they road off to the reception hall in their decorated car.

You contemplated how you would get to the reception yourself. You arrived with Jake but your body was buzzing with anticipation to touch your boyfriend. Fighting seemed pointless. Today was about love. And you loved eachother. This tattoo was permanent but so were you guys.

Embry was leaning against his truck when your knuckles tapped on the door. He jumped at the surprise but he calmed down when he saw it was you. Looking beautiful as ever. Your hair blew in the wind, giving him a nervous smile.

"You look gorgeous, baby." He lowly said, gesturing to you.

You blushed, "Thanks. Not so shabby yourself, mister."

"I love you." He blurted, "I love you so much. I'm sorry for yesterday. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm especially fucking sorry for phasing."

Your eyes watered as you walked straight into his blazing embrace. He scrambled to pull you as close as possible. Your hands clutched the fabric of his tux as his hands gently rubbed up and down your back. Your mind was flooding with euphoria at how close he was to you. Intoxicating. You hadn't been this far away from Embry for so long since you were fifteen.

"I'm sorry for my tattoo. It was shitty of me not to talk to you about it."

"I was just hurt that you got one without me. I wanted your first tattoo to be shared with me. It was selfish. You may be my imprint, but it's still your body." He confessed.

You pulled away so that you could look up at him, "Yes. My body is mine. But my soul is undoubtedly mixed with yours, belongs to you. Getting a tattoo doesn't make that any less."

An infectious smile broke out on his face. His hands cupped your face as he brought you closer, noses rubbing affectionately. His hand moved to your chain to raise it up, lips slotting quickly against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, eliciting a moan. You pulled back when you heard someone behind you two.

Jake stood there with a shit eating grin, "Was gonna ask if you needed a ride but you two clearly made up."

"Shut up dude." Embry groaned, pressing a few kisses to your cheek, "I missed her."

"Yeah, as if the whole pack didn't know that. See you guys at the reception." Jake retorted.

"See ya Jake!" You called out.

"Think we can manage a quickie before the reception?" Embry asked, hands dangerously roaming your body as he lifted you into the truck. You laughed as you were put on your back in the backseat. Your head lifted to see that no other cars were in the parking lot. You hummed as he shut the door and climbed on top of you. His hands pushed the dress off from your shoulders, head dipping down to appreciate what was his.

"This is a church parking lot." You teased as his tongue ran along your collar bone, hot saliva trailing behind. You grabbed his head and pulled it back up so that he could look at you.

"Yeah and? Everything about you is holy."

You snorted, pulling him down for another kiss. His warm hands slipped under your dress and grabbed your thighs, soft flesh melting against his. He pulled your hips up closer to him, grinding into you. You moaned at how his body moved against yours, two bodys and basically one soul. His lips moved to press hot kisses to your neck until they sucked on your tattoo.

"I think I actually like this spotch of ink." He murmured, running his tongue over it as he bunched up your dress to rest around your torso.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It's hot."

Twenty minutes later you two walked into the reception hall hand in hand. Embry was especially lovey after the ten minutes spent in his truck. You both made sure that no evidence of your quickie was present. Emily and Sam were sharing their first dance in the middle of the dance floor. You led him to your table where Jake, Quil, Jared, Kim, Paul, and Rachel sat. Seth and Leah sat with Sue and Charlie a table over.

"Hot make up sex?" Paul teased as Embry pulled your chair out for you.

You shook your head at his blunt question. It wasn't like your sex life was a secret. Embry could not keep those thoughts to himself when he was shifted. Actually none of the boys could. It was how it went. Over time you got used to it. It wasn't Embry's fault.

"The best." Embry said intertwining your hands, "But not that that's any of your concern."

Paul raised his hands in surrender. The hothead knew better than to overstep and disrespect a fellow wolf and imprint. That would lead to a fight and Sam would murder them.

"Don't listen to Paul. We're glad that you two fixed things." Kim sweetly said. Her eyes were always so wide and kind.

"Yeah, bunch'a miserable kids in love. Embry was mopey all morning." Jared added.

Embry rolled his eyes, thumb rubbing affectionately across the top of your soft hand, "Beg to differ.."

"Oh wanna bet, Call?! You leaned against walls and didn't talk. Like uh," Paul snapped his fingers as he tried to think of the word, "like a mute."

"Love you man, but he's right." Quil spoke. Embry snapped his head to glare at his best friend. In return Quil sheepishly shrugged and sipped his water.

Embry then shifted towards you again, "Do you think any other wolf packs are around that I can join?"

You laughed at his deadpanned tone and lightly slapped his bicep, "You love them and you know it, bub."

"Yeah, bub." Rachel teased, a beautiful smile gracing her lips. Paul smirked with a profound proud feeling bubbling in his chest as he listened to his imprint.

Sam and Emily's dance ended and the dance floor was opened up. Embry took this chance to escape the ragging from his friends to share a slow dance with you instead. His hands rested on the curve of your back while yours intertwined around his neck. His face bend down to be close to yours.

"So I was thinking about our tattoos..." Embry started.

You cocked a curious eyebrow, "Oh? And what conclusion did you arrive at?"

"Let's get them tomorrow. Quil knows a guy who does some wicked cool ones and I just know he will make them exactly how we want. And why wait? Why did we not do it a year a or two ago?" He rambled, twirling you around and bringing you back into his arms.

"No clue why we waited. But.. I am so down for tomorrow. Sooner the better."

He hummed happily, "Great. Tomorrow it is."

Harry Style's Adore You came on and you grinned, "You may be an ass at times Embry Call, but I adore you."

"Thank you baby, but hey." You looked into his loving brown eyes and waited for him to go on, "I'd walk through fire for you."

Song lyrics or not, Embry Call would legit do anything for you, "Just let me adore you." You responded.

He leant down to peck your lips, "That's the only thing I'd ever do."

[ripspaghet]

bff | 06

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | ongoing

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 5,860

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing, cheating, self hate, trauma

Gone. Gone again. Anytime he feels he's gotten closer to unearthing the melody it slips from his fingertips, like water. It would all be so much easier if he didn't have this desire, this want. Every time it's silent he feels there's this void, something gaping within him, and life begins to feel dismal - yet, he still finds himself here, in this dark and desolate place that doesn't belong to him. A single red light aluminates in the darkness and he's left with no choice but to approach, shatter the glass, and enter. It isn't until screeching alarms pull in attention that he truly realizes that this place is not his own. Invaded. Breached. Ransacked. He's an unwelcome guest - although, these simple facts don't stop him. They pull him in, glass crunching beneath his shoes as he takes a seat. Fear and adrenaline suffocate the darkness looming around him, screaming that he is not wanted. He just needs to remember it. His fingers run along with the ivory keys, the smooth melody of the first five notes flowing into each other, only for an eerie pause of silence to follow. He lets his fingers slip from the keys. It's useless.

A soft echo of notes makes his eyes open.

He turns, looking for where the tune originated - but there's nothing, no one as far as the eye can see in this dense cloud of darkness. Nothing but the alarm filters through.

It's been exactly a day since it happened. The way your nerves are making your heart quake has, if nothing else, increased with time. You've been utterly restless - pacing around your dorm, spacing out while staring at the chipped paint of your white walls, and picking at hangnails excessively. You know you're going to have to face this. Otherwise, the rug will be pulled out from under you when you least expect it. It's safe to say you'd rather be the one pulling the rug, then be the one standing on it, waiting anxiously for your inevitable downfall.

You knock on the door about five times before it finally opens, making way to the threshold beyond it and a pair of pleasantly surprised eyes. Her gaze makes your stomach drop, so you opt for studying the interior details of her apartment. It's spacious and open, natural light pouring in from just about every nook and cranny. It suits her, she's never been one for reciting in the dark - despite her, more often than not, glaring gaze.

"____," She opens the door wider, "I didn't know you were coming, I would've made food if you called. Come in." You oblige, taking off your coat as you enter the apartment, the smell of scented candles, and floral encasing you in a spring time-capsule. You hang your coat on the rack next to the door. "It's been so stressful since the new semester started, we've barely had any time to hang out." You follow her into the kitchen after removing your shoes. "Work has been crazy too, you remember that kid that kept coming in and ripping the flowers off their stems?" She circles the center bar, making her way to the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of what you presume to be tea as she pours it into a glass, "Well, the manager refuses to ban him. He blames me for allowing the kid to destroy our merchandise." She slides the glass to you, "You prefer it cold, right?" She sighs, "That manager, such a prick. I'm really considering quitting if this keeps up." Remaining silent you watch as she fiddles with her own glass as she rambles, "I didn't mean to neglect our friendship or anything. It's just between all this and...Yoongi," Your stomach drops and your ears go fuzzy. You don't hear much of what she says, swearing you're about to barf up the chicken you'd had for lunch not all that long ago. Her voice lowers as if she's afraid someone might be listening in, "He's being so strange, showed up h-"

"Mina, I need to talk to you about something." You don't dare meet her eyes, you keep them downcast on the dewdrops of condensation rising on the glass of your untouched drink. She falls silent, the air around you becoming heavy. With a sigh, you take a seat at the bar but still neglect to touch the tea in front of you. Mina moves to take the seat next to you, still silent, observing your exhausted expression. "Listen, about Yoongi - I don't really know how to say this, so, I'll just say it. He k-"

You're startled into a flinch as fumbling footsteps followed by a loud crash of glass and fuck knows what else, cuts you off. As you turn your head, a lanky body stumbles out of the hallway into the kitchen, their back to you and Mina as a harsh swear makes your breath hitch. Dirt and glass is now spread out across the marble floor in a messy display and Mina moves quickly while you remain in your seat, watching as she rushes with worried words, "Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?" 

As if you hadn't already realized, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, heart slamming up into your throat as his dark hair falls over his brows and shifts ever so slightly with the tilt of his head, "I'm fine, " His dark eyes never leave you as Mina scans him for injuries, "your plant, not so much."

"I'll get the broom." Mina saunters off, leaving you alone with the source of your guilty conscience - you're dripping with it, a metaphorical layer of sweat against your skin that's almost suffocating.

"____-"

"Don't."

"Got it! Yoongi, hold this for me."

His mouth is quick to clamp shut as he takes the dustpan that's shoved into his chest, his eyes darting away from you, "Yeah, sure."

Mina works quickly as always, swiping the dark potting soil up into the yellow pan that Yoongi holds steady. Nervously, you shift your gaze away from the two and pick up your tea to take a large gulp.

This is going up in flames. How are you supposed to tell her with him here? You don't want to be- No, you shouldn't be caught up in this. You should have never let it happen…

"There," Mina's voice pulls your attention back up, "I'll-"

"No, I've got it." His hand lightly brushes her wrist before he turns to dispose of the dirt. The gesture is small enough to convince you that neither of them really noticed it - just a natural loving touch, nothing unusual - though, it's enough to make you look away again.

"____? Are you alright?"

Your breath hitches and you have to force the hard expression on your face to loosen, "I'm f-fine." They are together, happy, maybe even in love. He hasn't said a word to her about any of it, yet, he wasn't alone in the act. You could've stopped him. You could've pushed him away, should've told him no. She's your best friend and you let him-

"What was it you were saying? Something about Yoon-"

"Nothing," You force a big smile, "I think I was just a bit worried about you. As you said, we haven't made time for each other lately."

"Oh, " Her lips purse, "we should make time for each other soon then."

How selfish are you? Never in your life have you thought of yourself as a horrible person. But now? Your skin is crawling with self-loathe. Every time you meet Mina's gaze your stomach drops - not because of what happened, but because of how it made you feel. The images that run rampant in your head shouldn't be there. It's all the worse that there was no lust driving your actions - there was a deep-rooted desire, an intoxicating burning beneath your skin that makes you dizzy just thinking about it. A passionate fire had dwindled to life beneath your ribcage. It should make you sick. You should be repulsed at the mere thought. "I should get going now. I don't want to intrude on your couple time. I'll see you in class."

"You don't-"

"Call or text if you need me."

The hallway is clustered with people, bumping shoulders with you as you drag yourself along. Maybe it's best you act like it never happened, that Mina remains happy and not miserable knowing the man she is in love with kissed her best friend...and that her best friend allowed it - kissed him back even. And maybe you deserve this dreadful feeling that's swelling inside, growing larger day by lousy day.

You stop abruptly, a student behind you swearing at you for making them walk around. You don't know why you've stopped, don't know what urges you to turn your head but, never the less, you do. You blink at the letters next to the door. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you peek through the small door window. It's tantalizing, filling you with more anger than any remorse. You let this thing, this object, control you. Your every move and action revolves around running from it and for what?

Before you can convince yourself otherwise you're yanking the door open and marching in, heading straight for the ivory keys sat on the opposite side of the music room. How could you be afraid of something so ridiculous? It's pathetic. You plop down on the bench, eyes set to kill as your fingers naturally fall into the correct posture. And with a soft and steady exhale of air, your fingers slowly ignite, brushing along the keys with a fevered nostalgia.

'Prélude no.25 in C sharp minor, Op.45', a piece you once knew like the back of your hand. The memories of it still linger fresh in your mind, so much so that your hands could flow with the smoothness of the lilting notes even in your sleep. Your turmoil seems to whip and lash at your fingertips like a ravenous animal as the song crescendos, the tempo increasing with veracity and then it cuts through you, a sharp pain traveling up your right wrist and you yank your hands away. The room falls silent, nothing but the sounds of birds chirping outside and the wind whistling. Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you can't help but slam your foot into the floor out of frustration.

"____?"

Your breath catches in your throat, fear falling in the pit of your stomach as you turn your head.

"What are you doing in here?"

The sight of Jimin's blonde hair and worried eyes only calms you a little. You'd worried that maybe someone else had found you here, but it being him wasn't exactly any better. "I just-" You turn to look back down at the piano, your brows knit together, "I don't know."

"Come on," Jimin is quick to make his way over to you, yet you don't turn back to face him - even when he wraps his hand around your wrist and gently pulls it up to inspect, "you shouldn't do this to yourself." You turn slowly, reluctant to face anyone at such a vulnerable moment, but you manage to frown at him as the pad of his thumb traces soothing patterns into your skin. His hair is swept neatly across his forehead, a soft smile plays on his lips that doesn't meet his eyes, "Does it still hurt?"

"It hurts every day, Jimin." You turn away, "You know that."

"You're strong ____."

You flinch, not expecting him to say that, of all things.

"After everything that's happened, I've never known you to give up. So, stop putting yourself down." He pauses, coming to sit beside you but never letting your wrist go, "I know you can't play anymore, but your talent doesn't just exist within a piano. It's a lot more than that." Still refusing to meet his gaze, you begin picking at a hangnail, "Here," He lets your hand go and you briefly glance over to see what he's doing just as he holds a small yellow sucker out to you, "it's lemon flavored."

You glance down at the thing held up to your face, "Why-"

"You like lemonade, right?" He smiles, eyes twinkling, "Hurry and take it, we have to get to class before you're late again."

You snatch the candy from him, sniffling in annoyance, "What am I? A five-year-old?"

"You don't have to be a child to enjoy the sweeter things in life."

You abruptly plop down into your chair between Mina and Jimin, exhaling dramatically as you do. If only it'd all been a dream and you could just forget it. How many times have you thought that now? Were you in the Hundreds now? Thousands?

"Everything alright?"

Like clockwork, you sputter nervously under Mina's gaze, "Ah, yeah, just tired. Must be insomnia or something."

"Insomnia?" Jimin raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to look at you, "Do you have that?"

"Yes? No? Maybe? I'm not a doctor. Where is the professor?" Both of them turn their attention to the front of the class, seemingly not taking notice of your jumpy behavior. Though, you're sure Jimin did. He just knew when it was time to leave you be.

"Oh, that, " Mina nibbles on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling, "Professor Lee caught some nasty bug over the weekend."

"I fail to see why that would make you smile like a little school girl that just wet herself."

She scowls at Jimin, "The professor asked a former student of his to teach the class until he returns."

What?

"Oh, wow, so Loverboy is subbing just so he can stare at your toxic face all day? I don't buy it. He must be into guys."

"Excuse me?"

You think you're about to vomit up your breakfast.

"He finds me cute and couldn't get enough."

"He absolutely does not!"

Please, for the love of all that's good in this world.

"Told me himself."

"Stop making shit up, Park!"

"As soon as you stop buzzing in my ear, you fly."

"I am not a fly! You-"

The classroom door slams and you jump in your seat, making both Jimin and Mina turn to you questioningly as you squeeze your eyes shut in denial. Slow footsteps make their way to the front of the lecture hall and the echo of them makes you cringe.

There is absolutely no way the universe hates you enough to-

"Hello, my name is Min Yoongi, a music producer and a former student of Professor Lee's. Unfortunately, the Professor is bedridden and has asked me to substitute for the time being, let's get along well."

Never mind, the universe doesn't hate you - it loathes you. You'd think that after everything you'd have no trouble avoiding him. Hell, you thought that he'd do the same, but you suppose Min Yoongi isn't going to be giving you any breaks anytime soon.

You let your head fall from your hands and slam into the desk beneath you with a concerningly loud thud.

"Woah, are you alright?" Jimin places a hand on your shoulder and you miserably slug away from him.

"Don't touch me."

The class drags on like a snail and you've sat here long enough to, staring at a head of dark hair, try to hex the man it belongs to about a thousand times - give or take. You've yet to see a beehive fall from the ceiling and send him running home though.

When the bell finally does ring you're not even granted the semblance of running out yourself as Mina cuts you off, "I'm having my birthday party early this year."

"Oh, really? When is it?" You keep your head down as the two of you mosey along, closer and closer to the front of the classroom.

"Tomorrow at my place."

You nod, more focused on escape than anything else.

"It was going to be on my birthday week, but Yoongi and I made plans together for the day of my birthday. We're going to-"

"That's great Mina. I'm sure the two of you will have a great time together." You force a smile as if your life depends on it, "Say, what time is the party?"

"Oh," Mina laughs with realization as you inwardly sigh with relief at the welcomed change of subject, "it's at eight."

"Great."

Mina bounces over to the exit with excitement, "You'll be there?"

"Of course." You force another smile as you follow after her.

Almost there, almost home free.

"Great, I'll see you then."

You nod again at the threshold, watching as Mina waves back to you.

"____, I need to speak with you."

You freeze, a deadly chill rushing down your spine. "No, thanks." You wave behind you, not turning back as you continue with your escape.

"It's about your test."

You freeze again, your eye twitching at your lack of luck today, "I'm in a real rush, I can't-"

"Come here, now."

Fuck the universe, that vindictive bitch. 

Reluctantly, you turn and make your way back towards the center of the desk you had passed by with ease not all that long ago, "You failed your last test. Professor Lee informed me that you need to retake it, or you'll fail this class."

You keep your eyes directed on the wall behind him, not once sparing him a proper glance, "Okay, I'll find a tutor and-"

"There's no available tutors, because it's exam season. I told Professor Lee I'd handle this, so I'll be teaching you."

Your eyes are quick to dart to his now, "No!"

His fingers tap against the desk and they draw your attention as his eyes narrow in on you, "This has nothing to do with-" He pauses, letting out a steady breath of air and you lift your gaze back to his. Rather than being irritated or annoyed, as you expect, your surprised to find that he looks super uncomfortable, maybe even anxious, "our relationship outside of this room. And might I remind you that this test is half this semester's grade. You'll only fail again without proper help." You grit your teeth, holding back your protests. You hate to admit this, but he's right - again. "Starting next week come here after you've finished all your classes. I will be in the office grading papers. And-" He slides something across the desk to you, "your laptop, you left it."

You grab your laptop quickly before turning to leave, all the while not uttering another word to Yoongi.

The bathroom mirror is fogged over completely - except for a small spot that you've whipped at in order to dab foundation onto your neck, thoroughly painting over the purple and yellow discoloration on your skin. You juggle with your phone in your other hand, holding it to your ear, "I just- hear me out?"

"Why should I? I don't like her, so the answer is no. End of conversation."

"Please? I don't want to go alone."

"Why not? It's not like it's going to be a fun party. Doubt there will even be alcohol."

"You-"

"Get out of here already!"

"Shit," You begin shoving your makeup back into your bag, fumbling with your phone in the process.

"Listen, I know you've been having a hard time lately but there's no way in hell I'm-"

"Fine! Don't go! It's not like I need you there or anything!" You slam the bathroom door shut behide you, sure to piss off your roommate, who is washing shampoo from her hair.

"Don't be like that, ____. You know she wouldn't even want me-" Throwing your bag over your shoulder you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. After all the things Jimin has put you through, he can't even do you the smallest of favors. You stomp over to your dorm room door, storming out into the hallway, and down the stairs. You shove the glass door to your complex open, letting the cold wind blow tangles into your freshly brushed hair as you stride toward the Lift driver that's been waiting for you at the curb for the past thirty minutes. Under normal circumstances, you'd apologize to the driver for making them wait, but as you've established, time and time again, these are not normal circumstances. As you buckle your seat belt the driver takes off, drifting at about thirty on the speedometer.

A heavy sigh falls off your lips and you lean your head against the window as the first ticks of rain make contact with the transparent glass. Your phone buzzes in your lap and you glance down at it. You half expected it to be a text from Jimin, although the notification is from an unknown number.

Message from Unknown Number-8:32pm: Let me make up for lost time. Please, answer your phone.

You begin typing only to be cut off by another buzz.

Message from Unknown Number-8:33pm: Don't try telling me I've got the wrong number. Jimin gave it to me.

You scowl down at the small screen before abruptly turning off your phone. You curse Jimin as you shove the phone into your bag.

"Thought you said you weren't going to come."

He fiddles with the ends of his hair, all the while avoiding your gaze, "Well, Jungkook agreed to come along so-"

"You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"

Sighing, Jimin leans against his younger friend, but Jungkook's attention seems to lie elsewhere as he completely ignores the two of you, "You know how I feel about Mina."

"Yeah," You turn to see what's got Jungkook so preoccupied, "and you know how I feel about parties." Across the room you spot Mina and Yoongi. The two are conversing rather aggressively and you inhale sharply, barely managing to remind yourself that it's normal for Mina to blow things out of proportion and it's probably nothing. You don't need to worry. You force your attention back to Jimin.

"I have no idea how you feel about anything nowadays. You're-"

"I swear I'm never doing anything for that she-devil again."

You turn to see a rather annoyed Seokjin now standing behind Jungkook, with a large birthday cake in hand. 

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head, "What are you doing here?"

He looks away from Jungkook, who is now laughing at his elder's misfortune, "I was conned."

"Ah," You nod and point at the cake, "she made you bake that?"

Jimin shakes his head, "What a shame you let her walk all over you."

"Yeah," Seokjin rolls his eyes before glaring over in Mina's direction, "it's too quiet in here. I'm going to start some music."

You watch Seokjin make his way over to a speaker and then leave for the kitchen. The smell of birthday cake tickles your nose now as the sound of soft pop music lulls the small crowd of people in the apartment space.

"God, this is boring."

"Beyond boring."

Those two seem to be unable to keep their moping to themselves since you arrived, although you haven't paid them all that much attention. You're more concerned with how you're going to avoid eating cake later on. You hate overly sweet things with a passion and Mina's cake is sure to taste like a sugar rush.

"We should liven it up a bit."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"How about it ____?" You drag your gaze away from a frowning Mina to glance over at Jimin, who's holding a plate full of crumbs that were previously covered in chips. Jungkook stands next to him, bordly munching on some handmade snack you couldn't remember the name of. The two of them refused to stay anywhere that wasn't right beside the snack table. You guessed since there wasn't any alcohol, they were making do with what's available.

"Can you two behave until the candles are blown out? I don't wanna hear Mina yelling until I've already told her my excuse to leave."

Jungkook nods, "Understandable,"

"I suppose I'll wait."

You just want to go home and get some more sleep, you couldn't care less what these two goons had up their sleeves. Yes, you want Mina to have a good birthday, but you can only maintain your act for so long while around her. Faking isn't your strong suit.

"Oh, God,"

"Wha-Oh,"

You glance back over at the two of them to see that they're staring across the room. Jimin is frowning, while Jungkook looks as if his whole life is flashing before his eyes. You turn to see what it is, only to find yourself wishing you never did.

"____! There you are! You sly fox, you. I've been looking for you everywhere."

Your stomach drops, "Who told him?"

Jimin scowls as his friend makes his way over to you, "It definitely wasn't me."

"Sorry, ____. He promised me he wouldn't come if I told him." Jungkook scoots away from you out of fear of your wrath.

The guy approaching you is quick to move to your side, placing an arm around your waist. You're sure to send Jungkook the deadliest of glares that has him cowering behind a now, rather aggravated Jimin.

"Tae, what are you doing here?" You almost choke as you force a smile onto your face.

He pulls you closer to him, a smirk playing on his lips, "I heard from a little birdy that you'd be here." 

As a strong urge to knee Jungkook in the crouch starts to settle in, you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to bear it and not cause a scene.

"Yah, Taehyung, who do you think you are, clinging to my best friend like that?" Jimin's brows have shot up in question as he stares Taehyung down with accusing eyes.

His arm doesn't leave you, though you can feel him stiffen under Jimin's intimidating gaze, "I-"

"If you want your dick sucked find some other girl to do it."

Taehyung frowns, "Jimin, I'm not-"

"Taehyung, " You pat his shoulder, gaining the attention of all three boys' in the process, "how about you go get me a drink from the kitchen?"

He looks back and forth between you and Jimin, slightly suspicious before nodding, and heading off.

Jimin scoffs, "The nerve of him."

"I'm going to get some fresh air. Tell him I went to the restroom or something. Also, try to keep from fighting. Like I said earlier-"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't want to ruin Mina's birthday party. Blah, blah, blah."

"Jimin," You glare, "I'm serious."

"Alright, " He groans, rolling his eyes, "I'll stop. Just go before that horny baboon gets back and tries humping your leg."

You roll your eyes but nod never the less. Jungkook whispers another sorry to you as you walk past them towards the apartment door. You only wave him off, not caring enough to bother with his inability to keep a secret. You're too tired and honestly just wish you could go home. You mean, you could go home with the excuse of, "I started feeling sick." Which wouldn't be a complete lie - thanks to Taehyung. You know Mina wouldn't fall for it though.

Luckily, her apartment is on the bottom floor and it doesn't take you long to make your way outside. The warmth from the building's heater almost seems to melt off your skin in the chilled air. It's only around dinner time, but you suspect the sun has begun to set behind the rain clouds, due to the darkness that has started settling over the city. Your steps are small as you watch your breath puff out into a cold cloud passed your chapped lips. Fiddling with the sucker that still rests in your pocket, you shut your eyes and listen to the downpour that assaults the sidewalk. You hadn't planned on being so weak, so vulnerable. After all these years you'd hoped that maybe you would've grown stronger by now - but you feel weaker than ever.

An exaggerated sigh startles you and your eyes snap open. 

His back is to you as rain showers down onto the awning above, black shoes resting in a puddle on the curb of the street as he stares at cars zipping by. You've never noticed before, but the rainy weather compliments his skin. You find your eyes lingering on the pads of his fingers and the blue veins below red knuckles - a perfect contrast of colors. Really, you know better than to approach him. You know better than to go anywhere near him - but, knowing better doesn't stop you from making your way over to him with a misplaced sense of determination as he reaches into his pocket, nor does it keep you from plopping down next to him as he places the retrieved object between his velvety lips.

He pauses his actions to glance over at you curiously. You frown at him before reaching up and plucking the purple lighter from his left hand, "What are you-"

You shove the lighter into your pocket, exchanging it with your sucker. You know you'll never eat it, might as well put it to good use. You hold it out to him, "You should replace bad habits with healthy habits."

He turns away with a scoff, nibbling on his lower lip - an obvious attempt to keep himself from smiling, "That isn't particularly healthy."

You glance at the sucker, "No, but it's better than what you had before." Nudging the candy into his now empty hand you purse your lips.

Reluctantly, he takes the cigarette away from his mouth and slides it back into its pack, "So, you're talking to me again?"

"No," You stare at him as his long fingers unwrap the yellow sucker and plop it into his mouth.

"Then what do you call this?"

You look away, opting to stare at the wet asphalt and listen to the constant pitter-patter of the rain, "Why were you and Mina fighting?"

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment before he sighs and rolls the stick of the sucker along his tongue, "She wants me here while I need to be elsewhere."

"It's her birthday party."

"Yeah," He snaps, eye sharpening as they flicker over to you, "I told her a month before she planned it what days I'd have work. She did this on purpose."

"Why would she-"

"Because she thinks I'm cheating on her with my coworker." The words are spat bitterly, the sound of the sucker cracking between the tension of his teeth. Your lips clamp shut and you look away from him. Why are you getting involved? You're only making things messier for yourself. "She's not all that wrong, though. I guess I deserve this."

Your head whips back over, "W-what? Are you cheating with a coworker?"

He turns to look at you, brows furrowed, "What? No, I-" He pauses then shakes his head, deciding against it and laughs, "Why are you here ____?"

You glance around, "I-Uh-Mina said I had to come and I-"

His head tips forward, dark hair falling over his lashes, "No, why are you here, with me."

"Oh," You watch the rain as it begins to slow, "I'm not sure."

"Thought you hated me."

"I should." You grit your teeth in annoyance.

"But you don't." Rather than it being a question, it's more of a statement, as if he already knows exactly how you feel.

You don't say a word, you just blink over at his side profile, heart thudding against your ribcage.

He sighs, turning to look at you, "You and I, I know it isn't good. I know I should stay away from you and you do the same to me...but," His dark eyes trace your features, as if trying to memorize them, "I don't think-"

"Jimin! You asshole! Get out! You were never invited for this exact reason!" 

You both turn to see Jimin stumbling out of the apartment complex, Mina hot on his heels, "It's not my fault your party was boring!"

Shit.

"Shut up!" She lands a solid slap that echoes off the back of Jimin's neck and through the rainy streets.

"Fuck! Jungkook! Do something she's touched me! I'm infected!"

Jungkook isn't far behind the pair, seeing as a second later he's the next person to rush out onto the sidewalk. Mina shoves Jimin's chest and he barks with laughter as he stumbles back, "Are you a child?!"

"Sure, if that's what you want me to be."

"Jimin, come on, stop. ____ said to-"

"____ said what?! Is she the one who brought you?!"

Shit.

"What? No, I-"

Next to burst through the door is Taehyung, who is quick to step in between Mina and Jimin, "Really sorry about all this Mina. I'll escort Jimin home."

"You?!" Jimin laughs dryly, "Why? So you can have another go at ____?"

Taehyung's brows crease as he opens his mouth to speak, but when he glances over to see you sitting on the curb he shifts gears, "____! There you are!"

Fuck.

All of their heads turn to you, Jimin raising an eyebrow, Jungkook looking confused, and Mina narrowing her eyes at you as she assesses the fact that her boyfriend is sitting next to you.

"The fuck are you doing out here?" You can tell that her question is directed at Yoongi, only by the small shift of her eyes. Yoongi simply shakes his head and turns away to watch the cars again. 

Somewhere in all the commotion, Taehyung had made his way over to you, seeing as when he plops down next to you and snakes an arm around your waist you flinch, "Is this where you've been hiding?"

"For the love of God, Taehyung, if you don't-"

Jimin is cut off when Yoongi stands up, pulling you with him by the wrist, and glaring at Taehyung in such a way that he freezes on the curb - hands kept to himself. You fidget at the feeling of Yoongi's cold fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding your breath.  The group turns dead silent before you eventually pull away from Yoongi, taking your wrist back, "Taehyung, please take Jimin home."

"What?!" Jimin squawks at you, "You said you needed me-"

"And I should've just asked Jungkook instead." You're quick to cut Jimin off, glaring at him as if he'd just stepped on your toe.

"I can't believe this. I literally-"

"Aw, poor Park. First time getting dumped on a sidewalk?"

"Shut up!" The snarl takes all of you by surprise, even Mina takes a step back, mouth clamping shut.

"Jimin,"

Jimin's eyes shift back to you, flickering over to Taehyung, then Yoongi before settling back on you, "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"

"What's going on with me?" You scoff, "You're joking, right?"

"Well, other than the usual shit show you have going on." His words are harsh and they catch all of you off guard for a second time. Jimin tends to be blunt when he needs to be, yes, but never harsh, "I'm fed up, ____. You won't talk to me. You're just bottling it all up. You can't expect anything the change if you-"

"You're the one who gave Hoseok my number!"

.

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a/n: sorry it took me so long to post and that this is kinda filler🙇‍♀️ but it's the start of some character development and the conflict is raising so it's about get crazy real soon👀😳

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800 @chogiyeol-utopia @thatchampagnebitch @jeonchan26  @loveyoongles @ghoularaki @team-wang-puppy

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