#and suddenly the brightest lights are shining out the back windows. there's a man standing at the corner of the house.

[forbodium]

had a nightmare where my dad and i were stalked by the ghost of a serial killer called "bonny john" aubrey

[gurugirl]

Little Flower

Summary: You're startled during a power outage late one night when your co-worker, Harry, is at your door, drenched from the rain. How does he even know where you live? 

Word Count: 4,468

A/N: This is a bit dark you guys! It's a classic stalker story so just keep that in mind as you read and only consume what you can handle! xoxo

Warning: smut, cheating, dark elements, coercion, stalking, aggressive male behavior, size kink, breeding kink, and sort of dubcon via manipulation

. .

You always loved rainy, stormy nights. It was the best time to snuggle up on your couch with a blanket and a pint of ice cream and watch scary movies. You were supposed to go out with friends but the weather had changed everyone’s plans. Some streets were even flooded and it just wasn’t going to be worth it to get out in the storm to go to some bar and drink gross, expensive drinks and then figure out how you’d get home.

This was far better, you determined, as you dunked your spoon into your cherry chocolate cheesecake ice cream.

Definitely better.

But then a sudden loud crash of thunder shook your windows, making you drop your pint of ice cream onto the floor at the same time you were suddenly shrouded in darkness when your electricity went out, taking your entertainment of the slasher movie you were watching with it.

You tore your blanket off your legs in annoyance and reached down for the ice cream container when you heard another noise making you still your movements as you listened through the heavy sound of rain and wind. It was coming from your back door. You strained your eyes to see through the dark as you placed the carton of ice cream on your coffee table and reached for your cell phone so you could investigate the noise.

Turning on your flashlight app to the brightest setting (thank god for modern technology) you made your way to the kitchen and peeked out the door’s window. But there was nothing that you could see.

You pursed your lips to the side and looked down at your phone and it was then you realized you had no cellular service at all. Which was odd. Sure the wifi was out with the electricity but cell service too? The storm must have knocked out a tower you supposed.

It was 11:47 pm. And since the electricity was out you figured you’d just go to bed. You couldn’t mindlessly scroll social media if you couldn’t get on the internet. So maybe this night wasn’t definitely better than going out with friends would have been.

You sighed to yourself and shined your cell phone light over the floor to make your way to your bedroom when there was the sound of a knock at your front door. Four harsh raps that had you stopping dead in your tracks.

You certainly weren’t expecting anyone and who would be out in such a heavy storm so late? Turning off the flashlight you slowly approached your front window to peek out but it was difficult to make out who was standing in front of your door. You could tell that it was a man but not much more.

Three more urgent knocks startled you, making your skin chill and putting you on edge.

You took a chance to peek through your door’s window at just the edge, hoping the man wouldn’t see you peering out but just as you did so a flash of lightening lit up the entire space around you as well as your front porch and you blinked as you recognized the man at your door.

It was someone you worked with.

You relaxed as you waved out the window and then opened your door. His hair was wet and his clothes were soaked, making his shirt cling to his body.

“Harry! What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

He looked behind himself and placed his hand on your doorframe, “Can I come in?”

You nodded and pulled your door open for him to enter. His presence felt heavy. Something was different about him. You weren’t sure why exactly. You didn’t know him all that well but he seemed nice enough at work. But in that moment he felt like a different person.

Closing your door you turned to face him, trying to push down the odd feeling you were getting, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Got caught in the rain and just needed a spot to ride it out a bit. S’okay if I hang out here until it lets up?” He stepped in toward you which put you right back on edge again.

“Uh… I mean yeah. Sure. Were you in the area? I thought you had a car.”

Harry’s dark figure loomed over you as he spoke, “I have a car. It’s down the street. And yes. I was nearby.”

You backed up for some space, “Oh. Did your car break down?”

“Something like that.”

You tried to steady your breaths. Something was off.

“Did you enjoy the flowers I got for you, Y/n?” Harry’s chest was rising and falling heavily as if he’d been running just before.

“Um…” you looked down at the cell phone in your hand and back up to the man as your eyes began to adjust to the dark, “Was that you? I didn’t realize… I thought they were delivered to me by mistake.”

You’d gotten flowers sent to you at work on Friday afternoon. A gorgeous bouquet stuffed with lovely flowers in a pretty glass vase. At first, you thought your boyfriend had sent them but when you texted him he got upset that someone else had sent you flowers.

The card read “To my little flower.”

You chalked it up to being sent to the wrong person because there was no name on anything.

Harry shook his head as he moved closer, “Those were from me. So were the chocolates the week before. And the gummy bears before that. But I was disappointed to find out you had a boyfriend.”

You swallowed and felt your back press into your door. You wondered if you could make a run for it but Harry twisted your deadbolt and then placed a palm flat on the wood next to your head, “How long have you been seeing him?”

You nodded, “Umm. For almost a year.”

Harry turned his head to look around your living room. You were feeling all kinds of weird things in that moment.

The first was fright. Harry’s sudden aggressive behavior was a shock to you. You were also feeling very curious about what was going on. Why was he in your home? How did he know where you lived? What was he planning on doing? But the most concerning thing you were feeling was that trickle of adrenaline and excitement.

Because that was another thing. Harry was probably the hottest guy you’d ever seen. All the girls at work gossiped about him in private. Talked about how fit he was, how handsome, his hair, his eyes, his voice… You did find him quite alluring, you’d just never gotten the chance to really get to know him. Plus you had a boyfriend to think about so getting close to another man wasn’t a good idea anyway.

“A year? Really?” You could see the outline of his face and the slope of his nose as he licked his lips, “And he’s not here right now with you?”

Shaking your head you kept your eyes on his. You didn’t know what his next move was going to be.

And when he lifted a hand up to delicately run his fingers over your cheekbone a shiver was sent down the knobs of your spine and you closed your eyes, “No. He’s at home. He doesn’t live here.”

You heard a small laugh press through his nostrils, “I know he doesn’t live here. I’m just fucking with you.”

You opened up your eyes in confusion and you saw a smirk on his face, but he didn’t back away from you to give an inch of space.

“See I’ve been keeping track, Y/n. I know almost everything there is to know about you. Pretty little flower needs something her lame boyfriend can’t give her.”

A shuddered breath left your lungs, “What do you mean?”

Harry’s gentle fingers at your cheekbone lowered to your jaw, “I mean look at what’s going on right now for example. You’ve got the big bad wolf standing in your living room, ready to do ungodly things to you, and your shithead boyfriend is safe at home, probably with his sidepiece because he never cared about you in the first place.”

You swallowed and shook your head, “What? Sidepiece?”

Harry’s dark chuckle vibrated out of his chest as his thumb ran up the side of your neck, “That’s right, little flower. Marco has been cheating on you. Some skinny girl with ratty hair. God only knows what he sees in her when he’s got you at the helm. A shame you’ve chosen such a loser. I would worship the ground you walked on if you were mine.”

“What are you going to do to me?” You had a hard time keeping your thoughts in a straight line. Marco was cheating? It could be a ruse. Perhaps Harry was lying. But also the stroke of his thumb at your neck was pressing harder into your skin and it was causing your head to go dizzy and your limbs were heating up.

Harry’s pink lips curved up into a wicked grin, “I have a few things that I’d like to do to you. Would you like to hear them?”

Did you want to know? Was he going to hurt you? That, you didn’t want. You weren’t much of a fan of pain. But if he were to force himself on you somehow… Maybe if he were to take you to your bed and do something ungodly to you… well, what would that entail?

“Yes.” You squeaked out pathetically.

That dark smile on his face widened, “That’s a good sign, flower. Honestly, I kind of expected a little more of a struggle from you. But you seem to like this so far. That’s going to make this so much easier. So much better for us.”

He moved in toward your face and then you felt his breath on your jaw and down your neck before he spoke against your skin and you felt that icy prick of exhilaration cover your body, “I’ll be soft with you as long as you let me. If you fight me it’s going to be a lot less soft, understand me?”

You knocked your head up and down in an affirmative nod as you held your breath.

His plushy mouth pressed over the side of your throat and you felt his tongue drag upward to your jaw, “First I want to taste you. Need to know what you smell like. Find out how thick your arousal gets and what your flavor is on my tongue.”

You gulped down the moan you nearly let out as you closed your eyes and his lips nipped over your skin to the front of your neck, “But then I want to know what you feel like, Y/n. Want to know how it feels when your insides are wrapped around my cock. Want to hear your pretty voice saying my name when you come. Want you to forget all about Marco. Because I want you for myself. Yeah?”

You felt like you were in a dream. Maybe it was just a dream. One of those strange fever dreams that feels like it’s happening but then it feels too weird to be real. And if it was just a dream… well what was the harm in it?

“Yes.” You whispered, your voice hitching up an octave.

“Yeah? You want that flower? Because if you do there’s not going to be any turning back. I won’t be able to let you go after this.”

You lifted your shaky hands up to his chest, feeling the moisture from his shirt under your palms. His heated skin underneath was taut and well-muscled. But of course, you knew he was strong and fit.

Harry kissed up your jaw and then his mouth was pressed against yours and the sizzle of your bodies pressed together was like an electric shock to your system as your mouth opened for his with ease. You smoothed your hands up his pecs, to his shoulders, and then to the back of his head into his wet hair. You allowed a moan to fall from your mouth against his and he shifted his hips before lifting you up by the back of your thighs and making you wrap your legs around his waist as he walked you to your bedroom, like he knew exactly where he was going.

He dropped you down to your bed and peeled his shirt off. So many tattoos that you had a hard time making out in the dark but you saw the inky designs, some blending together, some letters, numbers, drawings…

You felt his hands tear down your night shorts, taking your cotton panties with them in one quick tug, and then he began to undo his pants, pushing them down his sturdy legs as he kept his gaze on yours.

You felt like a different person. Like this was happening to someone who was taking over your body. The darkness of your room lit up with a lightning flash and then the heavy roll of thunder shook your house.

Harry crawled over you, his bulky frame covering you completely as you felt his fingers pulling your t-shirt off until your breasts were bare and the cool air of your dark room covered you in chills.

But he dipped down and placed his warm palm on one of your breasts while his mouth suctioned at the other side, pulling gently at your nipple and then lapping at your skin until he moved to the other side, warming your skin with his lips and his saliva.

“Gah!” You panted as you felt his teeth dig into your bud and you lifted your head to peer down at him.

Harry smiled against your nipple and then lifted himself to look down at you, “Sorry. Said I’d be soft. Might just accidentally nip at you here and there. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you, Y/n. How desperately I need you,” he ducked his face down between your breasts and dotted hot kisses down the center of your tummy until he gripped the inner parts of your thighs and pushed them apart so he could tuck himself in between.

You let out the loudest gasp you’d ever let fall from your lungs when you felt his soft lips peppering kisses up your labia. Harry’s tongue jutted out between your crease and you felt the warmth of his wet muscle slide up until he bumped into your clit.

“Oh flower…” he breathed against your cunt, “Better than I imagined…”

When he wrapped his plush lips around your clit you sucked in a sharp breath and let your head fall back into your blankets as Harry’s arms caged you in by the back of your thighs.

You’d never been eaten out with such enthusiasm. Marco always acted like he was going to hurt you so it usually felt like a limp rag against your pussy, which did absolutely nothing for you. But Harry felt like a real man with a warm mouth and a big wet tongue going at you like he was frustrated. Crazed.

His moans vibrated over your core and up to your hips as you wiggled under him, softly bucking yourself up against him.

“Oh!” You moaned loudly and reached down to grab onto anything when you felt his hand pull at yours and slide his fingers between your digits as he pressed it down into the mattress. But he did not let up his licking and sucking and it felt like the whole world would crumble around you if he let go of your hand.

The sound coming from between your legs was proof of how wet you’d gotten. He had worked you up into a frenzy without much effort at all. You weren’t sure if it was the way he was eating you out, or the very strange circumstance of him showing up at your place and making some kind of claim on you but you knew you’d give yourself to him if that’s what he wanted. Even if it was wrong. Even if made you a bad person. Even if Harry was a bad person…

“Shit! Oh ffff…” you yelped when he focused on your clit and it stung your flesh in the most salacious way you’d ever felt. You swore he was sucking the soul right out of you and inhaling it whole for himself.

Your whines grew loud as you squeezed his hand and his shoulders pressed harder into the backs of your thighs. He said he’d be soft but this wasn’t soft. It was better. It was hot and twisted and you should have been ashamed at how much you liked it but you were on the cusp of an orgasm and you couldn’t stop yourself.

The world around you went blank except for Harry’s mouth and his hand wrapped around yours. There was no telling how long you were shaking or crying his name or how loud you’d been or even where you were in that moment.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt those soft pink lips gliding up your body and then finding your neck, a harsh suck making you coo in ecstasy. Everything in your body felt exactly right. Harry had turned you into another woman and his warm body covered you possessively. You were his and he’d just shown you that.

“Tasted like sunshine and butterscotch,” his lips smeared over your cheek hotly, “My little flower deserves her cunt eaten properly every day. Now that you’re mine you’ll never go without.”

You sighed and then you felt his warm shaft against your pussylips. He still had your hand in his as he looked down at you and lined up his tip with your opening, pushing in only his bulbous head.

You hissed at the tightness of it, arching your back into him.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna go in slow so it doesn’t hurt. Tiny little hole needs worked open, yeah?”

You nodded with a whimper, “It’s so… you’re so big… oh god…”

“We’ll get you used to it. Don’t worry sweet, flower. Gonna take good care of you…”

His fat cock slowly took up inch by inch of your insides. You’d never felt such a full feeling from a cock before. Harry’s dick was thick and the further he pressed inward you could tell he was also long.

He slowly backed himself out to the tip and kissed your mouth with a quick peck before smiling down at you as he drove back in, pushing deeper yet. The kind of stretch he was giving you felt impossible. Even your huge dildo (which you hid from Marco so as not to hurt his fragile feelings of seeing a toy that was bigger than he was) didn’t feel this big, didn’t give you this kind of fullness.

There was the sound of a soft squelch of your pussy getting stuffed as he bottomed out. He nuzzled his face into your neck and panted softly as he thrust deeply. You could feel your insides getting moved around, rearranged, and prodded into.

It did something to your brain to know your pussy was making a man with such a big cock feel like you were. You could feel his cock twitching as he rocked into you. The front of his thighs pressed into the back of yours as he fucked you with his large dick.

“You feel that, flower?” His hot breath cascaded over your neck as he spoke.

“Mmm… I feel it all, Harry…” you moaned in response as you flexed your hand inside of his and brought your other hand up to his broad back to hold onto his outer lat.

“I can tell you feel it too. Feel me way up in your tummy, spreading you open like you’ve never been. Feels like I’m fucking a virgin right now,” he trembled as kept up his languid pace.

And compared to anyone else you’d slept with, yeah… you could say you were like a virgin. You’d never had anything so large inside of your pussy and you knew you couldn’t go back to anything less.

“Gonna get you fucked and filled so nicely every day. My little flower… fuck… feels so tight and wet around me. So warm. Just begging for my come.”

You moaned out breathily. Every stroke of his shaft and dip of his crown into your guts had you reeling. It was so much and so good. You were already addicted to the way he was fucking you and talking you through it.

“I need your come, Harry. I need you in my womb so bad…” you panted your words but you weren’t sure if those words had come from you or not. Maybe you were just cock drunk or cock dumb or whatever it was you’d heard of that happened to some people when they were getting a good dicking but it was something you’d never experienced and you wanted him to claim every part of you. You’d never before asked for anyone’s come. You’d never fucked without a condom. But Harry was the exception to everything.

His slow, deep plunges were driving you insane. Every sticky wet slide of his cock through your walls, every time you felt his balls fit up against your ass, every grind of his hips against yours… it made you feel obsessed. Like an unstable lunatic, hungry for something that no one else would ever understand.

“Need me deep in your womb, flower?” Harry pasted his hips to yours and rocked against you, making you squeal at the press of his tip into your cervix, “Is that what you want? Want me to stuff you with my come and give you babies, make you mine forever? Yeah?”

“Yes! Please!” You gasped when he bit into your neck as the roll of his back and his hips into you suddenly faltered and his rhythm grew sloppy.

Harry trembled over you as he pressed his nose into your jaw, his moans growing louder and his cock was twitching, leaking precome as his balls squeezed into his body preparing for his orgasm.

But the way he was glued to your pelvis and every grind down into you sent glorious sparkles down your spine that spread over your pussy as he was smushed against your clit.

The moment you felt your orgasm start to unfold and burst your vision went black as your heart pounded and your pussy gushed around him.

When Harry felt you squeezing him tight with a spasming pussy and he knew you were coming he coughed out a moan as he allowed himself to pound into you, finally punching through your walls the way he wanted as he fucked you through your release. Long, slick, aching strokes with skin wetly slapping, your bed rocking with each strong thrust, until Harry’s gasps of pleasure finally poured out of his lungs as he came inside of you. Inside of his sweet flower.

He pumped and throbbed as he pressed in deep, stilling his hips against yours with his heart pounding wildly. It was heaven. Bliss. He knew it would be.

Your body was limp under his as you began to come down and you felt him thick and pulsating inside of you as he drained himself into your womb just like you wanted. The grip he had on your hand ached but you loved it as he used your pussy for his pleasure. Deep whimpers fell from his chest.

Everything swirled and sparkled and twisted around you in some divine kaleidoscope. His dark words spoken into your ear, “You’re mine now, flower,” had you smiling and humming in delight. It was all you wanted. He was all you needed.

. . .

You woke up to your phone alarm sounding next to you on the bed. The tiniest bit of light was peeking through your curtains as you sat up and found your phone to shut off the noise. You were in a daze as you looked around yourself and realized you were alone in your bed.

You pulled your brows together and looked around your room. Your clothes were on the floor and memories of the night before began to flood your mind. Harry. Where was Harry?

Throwing the blankets off your naked body you looked down over yourself and felt that warm flush of excitement crawl over your skin at the thought of what had happened. You slid on your t-shirt and walked into your hallway, “Harry?” You called his name but there was no response.

Your living room was left just as it had been the night before. Your front door was unlocked and the carton of half-eaten ice cream was sitting on your coffee table, all melted inside.

You shook your head as you peeked into your kitchen and then went into your bathroom, flicking on the light and there lying on your vanity was a flower. You picked it up as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Two big dark splotches on your neck told you that you weren’t going crazy. That something had happened last night.

Unless you’d done it to yourself somehow? You leaned in to look closer in the mirror as you ran your fingers over the skin on your throat and frowned. Maybe it had just all been a dream. It definitely felt like one.

You sighed as you stepped back and retraced the events of what you remember. But it was hard to recall the details exactly. You were so gone for Harry, your co-worker, and he’d been so aggressive yet so soft at the same time.

Perhaps it had just been a dream. A wild dream that had you coming twice and begging for him to come inside of you.

You laughed as you ran your hands over your face and shook your head. Maybe you were going crazy. It didn’t explain the flower or the splotches on your neck but somehow, in the light of day, it all felt like nothing more than a fantasy. It made more sense that it would have just been a dream. What were the chances your hot co-worker had come to your house in the middle of the night and fucked you so good you were ready to marry him and give him babies? No, that wasn’t real. Because that wasn’t you.

You looked back at yourself in the mirror with a grin. The only thing you knew for certain at that moment was that you’d never think about Harry the same way again.

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[samcky]

haircut!! <3

Hii! thank you for the ask my love ❤️

Haircut

-

When the dust settles and everything is where it's supposed to be, stones back in their timelines and Steve with the love of his life, Sam and Bucky have nowhere else to go but a small apartment that Steve left for them in Brooklyn.

Sam hasn't even had the chance to put the shield down when Bucky crowds him in the hallway and gruffly tells him that he needs a favor

"if you give me your arm and ask me to be the next winter soldier I'm gonna quit" Sam tells him, propping the shield against the shoe rack and sliding away from Bucky. He needs a drink

"Fuck you" Bucky says without any heat behind it, but Sam can almost hear an eye-roll in his voice "I need you to cut my hair" Sam turns around at that, raising an eyebrow at him. "Don't make a big deal out of it"

"Go to a professional, man, I'm not a hairdresser" Sam tells him, reaching for a can of beer that Steve used to love.

"No shit" Bucky says, leaning awkwardly against the wall and staring at Sam. Sam wonders if this staring is gonna be a constant thing, because it's freaking him out a little, it's been a long day. "But I need you to do it"

"Why?"

"Can you just do it and not make a big deal out of it?" Bucky almost begs at this point, sounding whiny and annoyed. Sam doesn't think Bucky knows how to ask for favors.

"Fine, okay" Sam raises his hands. He opens the kitchen drawer and starts looking for scissors, he's pretty sure Steve doesn't own shears. "but if it looks shit, that's not on me"

"it already looks this like shit, just do it" Bucky says and walks to the window, dragging a dingy dining chair with him and sitting where the light shines the brightest. Sam would beg to differ, he actually like Bucky's hair like this, it's one of his very few redeeming qualities.

When he finds the scissors, mirror, and hairbrush he joins Bucky by the window, standing beside him, and takes a deep breath. Bucky's hair is down and pushed behind his ears, Sam reaches with both hands and untucks his hair, making it fall over his face, and starts brushing it. Once he's done brushing he puts Bucky's hair in a ponytail and chops it off.

It looks silly like this, funny almost, if Sam were evil he would leave Bucky like this, but he picks the scissors back up and starts working on trimming the ends. Sam runs his hand in Bucky's hair to tug on the section he wants to cut and that's when he stops suddenly, he feels the circular ridges on the side of Bucky's head. Protruding roughly against his skull. it takes his brain only a second to remember the images of the winter soldier in the chair, with a crown of black and silver over him, electroshock - his mind supplies.

"that's-" he stars, fingers gently resting against the scars

"I said don't make a big deal out of it" Bucky interrupts him and Sam finally gets why Bucky didn't want anyone else touching his head. It makes him feel weird, almost soft, the amount of trust he has been shown today almost makes him break down and do something like, hug Bucky or whatever.

"Okay, okay" Sam reassures him "keep your head still," he says and starts cutting the rest of his hair. He doesn't speak after that, and neither does Bucky, but his clenched hands and shallow breathing doesn't escape Sam.

Sam tries not to make a big deal out of it but, god, there's nothing he wants more right now than to turn Bucky around and kiss his head so many times that Bucky remembers nothing but how good it feels to be loved like that.

Sam doesn't even bother pretending that this is not what he wants, he's wanted him, god, five years ago? even if it's only been days for him, and he wants him now. That somewhere between watching Bucky through Steve's screen and their occasional visits to Wakanda he started feeling so much for this man that the evidence of pain on his skin almost makes Sam cry.

"I'm going home tomorrow, to Louisiana" Sam says loudly in the silence of the room, making Bucky open his eyes.

"oh? okay" Bucky almost whispers, not daring to move his head.

"It's very sunny there" Sam continues, cutting the hair on the back of Bucky's neck. He hesitates for a second, then throws the caution out of the window, he just came back to life, if there was ever time to take risks it's now "you should come with me"

"Oh" Bucky says again, louder this time. Sam can feel his jaw twitch under his hand.

"Yeah, some sun might do you some good" Sam shrugs "We don't have a guest bedroom, but you can sleep on the couch, or, uh, we can set you up in my room, I have a big bed" Sam finishes. He thanks god that Bucky's sitting with his back to him, because the blush on Sam's cheeks burns so bright it's embarrassing.

Bucky doesn't say anything and Sam does the best he can not to freak out. He keeps cutting over the same pieces of hair as he wait for Bucky to speak.

"I don't like couches" Bucky says after what feels like an hour, quiet and almost shy. Sam lets out a heavy breath, a big smile spreading itself on his lips without his permission.

"I can work with that" Sam says and even with someone elses shield sitting in the hallway and five years missing from his life, Sam finally feels that things might actually be okay

-

also this is the haircut Sam give him, bc i said so

[helianskies]

They called him the Son of the Devil. 'They', however, did not know what the Devil truly was...

a gift for @needcake! this is just a lil' something hehe, but feliz aniversário e espero que você se divirta! 🌊

[ read the full fic on ao3 or down below! ]

They called him the Son of the Devil. 

‘They’ were the Portuguese, God-fearing, almost as much as they were Devil-fearing, evidently. From those unfortunate enough to meet him by land, to those even more unfortunate to meet him at sea, they were his adversaries, his victims, his entertainment.

The Portuguese ships—whether merchant or naval—who clung too close to his territory for too long were taught fast what it really meant to fear. Cannonfire was child’s play. Never did he miss, nor did his men ever hesitate when he made the call. That had bought him his name—a personal ferryman for Davy Jones, delivering souls to their watery graves like the swift turning of the tide.

Meanwhile, those who resided in the areas navigated by his ship did not venture too close whenever they docked. While some were sympathetic to the attacks against the Portuguese, and were kind enough to keep his crew stocked up and sustained with both food and leisure, others were sure to keep their distance when they could. Perhaps that was wise of them. Even the too-curious were at risk. And perhaps being feared like that, too, brought only a greater thrill.

A force to be reckoned with, was what he was. Fierce as the pacific seas he had come to claim as his own. So many ships had been sunken, so many men slain—and it had made Abel a man wealthy not only in riches, but equally in reputation. 

At present, Abel and his men were venturing the Coromandel Coast of India. The growing spice trade was teeming with opportunity, markets, clients, and the easterlies made it an easy route to take before swooping back around towards the East Indies. It suited them well. Here, they had been welcomed more openly than they were used to.

To make the most of a final night in their current host town, Abel had been generous and granted the crew an evening to explore and enjoy themselves. For the majority, that had meant a night wandering from tavern to tavern, tankard to tankard, and Abel had gladly joined them.

At least, for most of the evening.

As the moon was approaching its highest point in the sky, however, and as the stars came to shine their brightest, Abel found himself alone at the beginning of a beach. He couldn’t remember how he got there. He couldn’t tell if he had just arrived, or if he had been standing there for an hour. But the sea was calming, the breeze light, and the ‘how’, ‘when’ and ‘why’ were so suddenly, incredibly unimportant.

Abel wandered forth and welcomed the feeling of sand beneath his boots, sturdy yet not, gentle yet not. There was a bottle in his hand, he soon discovered, from which he took a healthy sip of spiced liquor. Life felt perfect.

The sea before him was illuminated by the moon and the stars and the ghosts of his victories. It was his—all his. It was an immense feeling, a sobering tidal wave (well, figuratively sobering, that was).

A younger Abel, who used to quietly watch from the window as his father went out to sea to catch fish before the sun even rose, would not have imagined this future for himself. He used to hate the sea. He used to hate how it stole from him. The day his father had gone out for work and not returned—not that evening, nor the day after, nor even within the next year—he had sworn vengeance.

But now, he was the one who stole, and the sea no longer laughed at him but respected him. It was no longer the enemy, but a friend. If his father had gone out to sea and drowned, then all Abel knew was that his father had simply not been strong enough a man to live…

…he took another swig from the bottle.

What made him do it, he lacked an answer (or at least, answer he was willing to admit, even to himself) but with a mere blink he was sitting down, and with another, sand cradled his body and he stared up at the dark blanketing sky.

Serenity was generally a foreign concept to Abel—otherworldly, even. But there it was, all-encompassing, all-consuming. How… freeing. He closed his eyes and breathed it in and felt that internal reminder why this life was all he needed. 

Abel lay there for a while, basking in the swelling night and sea. He could have fallen asleep right then and there—perhaps he even did—but just as all of his senses ebbed and flowed and threatened to leave him in the arms of Morpheus, something distant drifted through the haze. A voice. A chorus. 

It was angelic, if he had to try and describe it. A madman would have thought that they were dying and being greeted from on high. But Abel, far from losing his wits, had no other explanation for it.

Sitting up, it was clear that no one else was around on the beach. Even his own footsteps now had been sifted by the wind and cast away. So his head turned back to the sea—could there be a boat? sailors?—but no vessel was there, either, and his confusion remained. 

The voice was impossible to pinpoint. It truly seemed to surround him. The more he listened, the more he felt a pull, and the more he listened again, he began to make sense of the words filling the air—words that, at first, had not sounded like words, but which now sung of riches, home, and the sea in a language he knew—a language that was his own.

And then he heard a splash. It had been small, but noticeable, and it drew Abel's gaze towards the South, where rocks trailed from the edge of the coastline and dipped down into the waters.

At first, he wondered if he was, in fact, out of his mind. But he blinked, and peered harder through the night, and found his eyes still did not betray him: there upon the rocks was a figure—the source of the melody, and the object of Abel's fixation. Surely not. But surely, yes.

He was on his feet. He was not sure when or how he had moved, nor why he then proceeded to venture across the sand towards the outcrops, but he did, and he did not fight it. As he neared, the music grew stronger yet softer, more delicate and whimsical, but no less powerful. It called to him. He couldn't fathom why he felt that way, but he did—it was as though the performance was all for him, and he so desperately sought a closer audience.

Before he knew it, the distance that had separated them had shrunk to span only metres. Being so close, he could see the figure somewhat easier—a figure with long hair that they carefully groomed with their own fingers, and legs that appeared to vanish into the water. A midnight swimmer, perhaps? A woman who, like him, had maybe had one drink too many?

Nevertheless, as he stepped onto the rocks themselves in order to get closer still, the beautiful singing, so gentle and smooth, suddenly subsided.

Abel blinked. He stared. Hands dropped away from flowing locks, and a head turned so that two eyes could gaze upon him, and he could gaze upon them in turn.

“I thought it was considered rude to stare.”

The lump in his throat took a few attempts to swallow. “What are you doing out here?” he deflected, gesturing with his bottle (he was amazed he was still holding it) towards the sea. “‘S a bit cold for a swim…”

The other hummed. “Maybe I like the cold,” they—he—could they be a man, with such a frame, and such mystical hair…?—replied. And, just like that, he slipped himself right into the water.

It felt like the other was trying to put distance between them again (Abel did not like that). It also felt like he was trying to prove a point, based on how he did not seem perturbed by the chilly depths. The sailor felt himself shiver just at the thought of the water, but, just as he found himself growing wary of the swimming stranger, he became, once more, the only thing Abel could focus on.

“You seem lost,” the other said, bringing himself to the edge of the rocks, whereupon he rested his arms and held himself against the ledge. “You are not from these lands, are you?”

“No, I am not,” Abel slowly returned as he crouched down, and once more bridged the gap between them. “Though, you hardly seem to be a local yourself. You… barely seem to be of this world, in fact.”

An invisible smile seemed to appear on the other’s face. “Is that a compliment, or an insult?”

“A compliment,” the blonde assured him. 

He tried to read the other as he spoke, just as he would read any other person, but all he could think about was how curious this stranger was—how the moon almost seemed to make him glow. And surely it was not his imagination: the other was not only in the sea, but naked, a man who must have had more drink than Abel several times over!

“Do you have a name?” he then asked, hoping to put some pieces of this pretty puzzle together. 

To that, the other gave a soft hum. “Everyone has a name,” he replied. “Do you have one?”

“I have a few.”

“Greedy.”

Abel cracked a small smile of his own. “Tell me yours first, and then I will tell you mine.”

The proposal was considered for a moment. A lot of thought seemed to take place—eyes watched closely and the other had to fix his posture—before he finally said, “João.”

His smile suddenly tensed along with several other muscles in his body. “João,” Abel repeated, giving it a taste, letting it dance on his tongue. “Sounds quite… Portuguese.”

“Well,” João responded, “maybe that has something to do with the fact that that is where I come from, no? Now, no distracting yourself,” he went on with ease, “you owe me your name.”

Remaining somewhat wary, but equally as tenacious, the sailor provided what had been requested: “I’m Abel. Though, I must admit, your people tend to use a different name for me…”

It almost felt weird to say so out loud. Perhaps that was the effect of facing someone like João, clouded in mystery, seemingly carefree, Portuguese. What if he already knew of Abel? What if underneath the water was concealed a weapon? What if—?

“'My people', huh? And what name might that be, sailor boy?”

And like that—the very second Abel looked at the other, looked him in the eyes, and was met by a sort of wonder—the care was washed away by the ebbing sea.

“They call me ‘the Son of the Devil’,” he said, “when they are not busy trying to run away.”

The revelation did not quite inspire the fear or wariness he had expected it to, however.

“Seriously?” João reacted instead, as though unimpressed, or unconvinced. “You hardly seem like a demon to me.”

“How would you know?” Abel asked somewhat pointedly, and just as fast as he had spoken before, the other lost his voice.

Abel wondered if he had come across too harsh. Conversely, had that not been the idea? To prove himself? But then, had it been deserved, he had to ask himself. João was one of few people to have ever engaged in a conversation longer than thirty seconds with him. Where others kept their distance, João almost seemed to want to close it between them again.

"Tell me," the sailor said, wanting desperately to amend his prior cruelty, "what has driven you into the water? Not me, I hope."

At that, the other's amusement grew. "Why?" he questioned. "Should I have reason to run from you, too?"

"Or swim away, in your case."

He received a tut. "Well?" the stranger prompted. "Do I?"

"You might," Abel answered in earnest, lowering himself even further by taking a firm seat upon the rocks. "I'm not liked by many people. They prefer to avoid me, if they can."

That, however, only seemed to draw the other in. The gap narrowed even more.

"Does that mean you're dangerous?" he asked. 

The word brought Abel, in turn, a small burst of excitement. So much for wanting to make a better impression.

"They have not given me my nickname for no reason."

"Mmm,” João grinned, “that's good. I like danger."

"Oh?"

"Danger can be fun," the other mused. And then, after a short pause—a moment to think—he added, "I can be dangerous, too, you know."

To Abel, it was a laughable notion on the one hand, but equally quite cute that the man in the water did not seem to grasp what danger truly was. Abel had killed, and sometimes just because he could. But this person before him, with their wondrous hair and heavenly voice and gentle eyes (and very naked body), hardly looked capable of anything more sinister than ordinary wit.

Still, he found himself humouring this fantasy. Something about the other made him want to talk more, and enjoy his company.

"How scared should I be of you, then?" Abel asked, to which he received a sort of proud smile. 

"No, no. Not scared," João warned him. "Danger is fun, remember."

"Not my kind of danger."

"Only a coward thinks danger is dangerous," however. "So are you dangerous, or scared?"

He couldn't quite work out how they had arrived at such a statement, inflammatory and unnerving. It threatened Abel in so many ways. It was a challenge to his very name, the thing he had spent years of his life carefully constructing . He was hardly going to sit there, and take it.

"I," he said as clearly as possible, "am not scared."

"No?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Very."

"Then get in."

The Dutchman stopped. He blinked. He blinked again. And then, he considered in brief the dark but tranquil sea. 

"Come on," the other insisted all the while, gently pushing away from the rock in order to fully embrace the waters around him. "Come in for a dip," he pressed, "and prove to me that you are not scared, sailor boy.”

It was an ask that felt like— No, no— It wasn’t too much—Abel was perfectly capable of getting into the water and going for a swim and had done so many a time—but the bottle in his hand felt heavier than before, and he wondered if perhaps this was all a falla—

A cold hand found his face, held his cheek, and offered a solace that Abel had not requested, but one that… he liked. 

“Come,” the other’s voice delicately urged again, “I promise it will be worth it. A quick dip, to prove to me that the Son of the Devil really is as bold and fearsome as he claims…”

Something about the way that João looked at him was utterly magical. He felt awe, he felt hunger, he felt desire. He had not often seen a man and had thoughts of such a nature, but he would allow himself to make an exception. 

He got lost in that world for a moment. He could still see and feel João there, reeling him in, but at the same time all Abel could think about was how it would feel to kiss him, to hold him, to have him in bed, to drown in him entirely. Abel wanted it. He wanted him. There was something so suddenly carnal about it—something so imperative, for the sake of his survival.

He was just so… so enchanting. It was impossible to look away, or think of anything—anyone—else. And the nearer João pulled him, the deeper Abel felt ready to—

The water was freezing. It smacked him in the face, merciless and harsh. The moment his body fell into the sea, Abel’s instincts screamed for him to swim, to get back out, to seek warmth and dry land—but as he tried to bob and find air and something to hold onto, all he found was João amongst the bubbles and commotion. 

João, who had pulled him right under the surface. João, who smiled at him and held onto him. João, who… did not stop pulling, or holding, or smiling.

It was only when Abel could no longer reach his hands above the water or remember the last few minutes in detail or feel enough air in his lungs that reality, at last, made itself known to him. Too little, too late. 

Abel was about to learn what it was like to be condemned to a watery grave of his own.

[egoisticeuphoria]

You Warm Heart

Chapter II (part I) : Identity

Genre : mafia au

Choi San x (f) Reader

#drama #comedy #action #romance

Words : 8.7k (part II)

Your body was heavy. Your forehead drenched in cold sweat. Your breathing went faster and faster. You couldn’t control what was happening. Your glued on your front as if you were waiting for something. Someone to save you. The door in front of you opened up. Bright lights were coming out from the room. A man dressed in suit standing on the other side of the room looking your way. It was Kai. The wedding melody was playing on the background. A bitter taste on the back of your tongue. A strong arm grabbed yours and started walking you down the aisle. You didn’t want this. You tried to move your body, to run away once again. But this time was different. You had no strength to do as you wished. As if your soul was stuck on somebody else’s body. This wasn’t the life you wanted. Not like this. The eyes of the man in front of you were shining as the lion’s eyes looking at its prey hungrily. You look d around you. The church was full of people. Even Soyeon was there. Why was she there? She was smiling at you with the brightest smile. You wanted to cry. This wasn’t the real Soyeon. She would never be happy with an arranged marriage. You looked away to avoid her smiling eyes but then you saw San. He was standing far away from the seats. His eyes glued to you and your wedding dress. He looked... weird. He was also wearing the same clothes as Kai. You couldn’t understand the reason though. His eyes looked sad as if he was about to cry. The arm that was holding you tightly pushed you to Kai’s arms who looked at you in awe.

“You look stunning, my love.”

Your eyes seemed to finally take action because you felt some burning tears come down your eyes. You opened your mouth to shout loud that this wasn’t the was thing should have been. No voice could come out your mouth though. It was a dream... no... it was a nightmare... It all felt so real though. Weird. Frightening. Disgusting.

You opened your eyes. You lifted your hands to wipe the tears off your face. Your breathing was finally on its normal pace. You hold your head with both arms as you tried to calm down from what you’ve just seen.

The phone rang. You picked it up knowing it was Soyeon.

“Good morning, Soyeon.” a sigh came out of your mouth.

“Good morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?” you could see her wide smile even from some miles away.

“Uhm, well, no.” you scratched your forehead.

“What? Why not?”

“Soyeon, I have a question. Please, be honest with me.”

“Of course, y/n. What is it?” Soyeon asked full of curiousity.

“Did you tell those mobsters my name and address?”

“Of course not! Why would I?”

“That’s what they said...” you said as you stood up from the bed now walking to the living room.

“What do you mean?” suddenly, Soyeon’s voice sounded worried.

“Yesterday night... I met with the mobsters again.” you continued while walking up and down the hall.

“What?! What the hell– What happened?!” before you could open your mouth to breath a response she cut you off. “You know what? Let’s meet up. I’ll come pick you up. Be ready at 15 mins. I’ll be there. You’ll tell me the details over coffee.” and with that she hang up the phone leaving you literally speechless.

You went to take a quick cold shower and got dressed in a simple morning outfit. Just a white T-shirt and short jeans.

15 minutes passed fast. Soyeon came ringing the bell on your door. When you opened up for her she rushed her way in your room.

“Girl... There are so many men outside the building... What the hell happened here?”

“I’ll tell you. Not here though.” you pushed her and yourself out of the room and got in the elevator.

On the first floor you could see men in black all over the place. As if a dark cloud came down from the sky right on your building. You felt weird. After what happened yesterday, things were pretty strange.

“Okay, we better stay quiet till we get out of here. I know a good quiet place to talk.” Soyeon whispered in your ear.

“Good. Lead the way then.” you grabbed Soyeon’s arm and walked alongside her as she led the way to the unknown to you quiet place.

You two walked in silence once in a while turning back to see if anyone was following you. When you saw no one behind you you started walking faster.

Soyeon stopped walking which made you stop too. You looked at her. She smiled while looking in front of her.

“Here we are. This is the place.” after her confirmation you looked where Soyeon was looking. There was a small cafe in the corner. ATZ Café. It looked plain. And nice. It really looked quiet. Not many people seemed to be inside. That’s what you wanted. Less people around the better. You wanted to talk with Soyeon in quiet. Tell her what happened yesterday and try to figure out a solution to avoid that from happening again.

Soyeon pulled you inside and sat on a table far from the windows. She fixed her clothes and stared into your eyes as a hungry teenager waiting for her meal.

“So... begin.”

“Alright then...” you started talking and talking and talking. You told Soyeon what happened after you two had went separate ways. You told her about the steps you heard near the elevator but when you turned back there was no one. You told her about the guys that broke in your apartment and how Wooyoung helped you eliminate them. You also told Soyeon about Wooyoung taking you to San’s mansion and that you left there by foot by yourself. The only thing you didn’t want to share with Soyeon was what happened between you and Choi San. That was too much for you yourself to handle. Also you knew that if Soyeon heard what happened she would start rooting for you two. You didn’t want that. Not at least until you found out what your feelings were for San. Because you wanted to realise what exactly you felt when San attacked you with kisses. You felt weird. Was it bad weird or good weird though? You felt the need to see for yourself by time what it meant to you. By time.

“What the hell?!” Soyeon was in awe at the news of your yesterday’s adventure. “These things happened in just one night? Your first night in Seoul? Girl, that’s insane.”

“Exactly! Insane.” you agreed with her words.

A young boy with the cafe’s uniform came to take your orders.

“Excuse me, girls. Are you ready to order?”

“I’d like some iced americano. What about you y/n?”

“I’ll have a black tea.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Thank you.” Soyeon told him with a smile.

The boy left to make your tea and Soyeon’s coffee. There was a man standing beside the waiter that took your orders. The man was faced in a way where you couldn’t see his face. You could only see the back of his head. It was red haired head. Although you didn’t notice it, he did. When Soyeon called out your name a while ago, he lifted his head surprised. Surprised to see you again so soon. He turned around and looked at you.

It was no other than Choi Jongho, San’s little brother.

His eyes glued on you as he couldn’t believe you visited his cafe. Did you know or was it Soyeon who suggested the place? He felt like walking towards you. He wanted to speak with you, to come closer to you. With a wide smile on his face he started walking.

It took him 10 seconds. He raised his hand so you could see it and waved at you.

“Hi. Good morning.” his face seemed happy as you could see the smile attached on the corners of his ears. You lifted your head facing him and finally realising where you’ve stepped in.

“W-what are you doing here?” you asked all nervous. You felt like falling in a trap like a wandering and hungry mouse. You were afraid that this smile on Jongho’s face meant no good news. He raised his eyebrows surprised at your question.

“Uhm, this is my cafe. I own it.” he said while looking around the room. You looked at him as if he was talking about something bad, horrible. You just couldn’t believe how unlucky you were. “Look, y/n, I have to tell you something... My brother wouldn’t say it so I’ll do it in his place.”

“Y-your brother?” you seemed confused. What about his brother? What was it that he wanted to tell you and his brother wouldn’t?

“My older brother, San.” he looked at you as your sudden question confused him. Didn’t you know already? But then again... Jongho never really introduced himself to you. The thought hit him and he stepped back a little to bow lightly in order to make a proper self introduction to you. “Excuse me. My name is Choi Jongho. I’m Choi San’s little brother. Nice to meet you y/n.” his smiley face returned making you unconsciously smile. Soyeon noticed your smile so she decided to speak up regardless Jongho being a mobster.

“Nice to meet you Jongho. I’m Jeon Soyeon. Y/n’s best friend.” she smiled and stood up from her seat to bow politely pulling you with her. She shook you lightly whispering in your ear to introduce yourself as well. When you came back to your senses you bowed lightly.

“I’m Park y/n. Although you already know me. Anyways. Nice to meet you Jongho.” you looked around to check if San was there. Fortunately, he wasn’t.

“What’s wrong y/n?” Jongho noticed you were worried over something.

“Oh, I just... I’m checking for something. Nice cafe by the way. It’s really comfy here.” you gave him a compliment with smile that made him get excited.

“Thanks y/n. It’s really great to hear that from you.” he smiled back with the cutest smile which made you giggle. “Y/n, I really want to make a proper apologise to you for what happened yesterday night. I’m so... SO sorry. My brother is such an idiot sometimes. Stubborn, arrogant. I have to make it up to you.” Jongho’s eyes were full of pain as he was talking. You felt sorry for him feeling this way because of you and San. You didn’t like seeing him in pain even though you didn’t know him well.

“It’s not your fault, Jongho. You don’t have to apologise in your stupid brother’s place. Jongho looked up at you and smiled lightly.

Soyeon, who was observing over your little conversation, sensed a cute atmosphere between Jongho and you. She found Jongo’s actions around you cute and it wasn’t hard for her to realise what kind of feelings Jongho had for you. By the way... what were you talking about with Jongho? Soyeon noticed that your conversation with him was something you never mentioned. She was eager to learn though. She had her plan. She stayed quiet for the time being and just listened carefully.

After a while the waiter came with the tea and the americano. He noticed his boss talking to you two so he felt like he could be close with you as well. He smiled brightly and put the disk down on the table.

“Here you go, pretty ladies.” when these words left his mouth Jongho’s smile disappeared and an angry facial expression appeared on his face.

“Jay.” Jongho called out his employee’s name angrily.

“Yes, boss.” Jay stood straight up realising he made a mistake.

“No talking to the ladies. Get back to work.”

“Yes, boss.” Jay turned around and run off behind the counter. He quickly started cleaning off the counter with his eyes never looking at you and Soyeon again. Soyeon and you laughed at Jongho’s serious face and Jay’s reaction to his boss’ orders.

“It’s fine, Jongho. You didn’t have to be so strict to him.” you said and Jongho’s eyes met yours again.

“I actually had to. Discipline is what matters. If I’m being nice he won’t improve himself.” Jongho came closer to you and you nodded as his words made sense.

“You’re right.” you smiled at him. Jongho smiled back looking straight at you.

“Sit down with us Jongho. Let’s chat for a little bit, then you can return to your cafe duties.” Jongho turned to Soyeon then back at you.

“May I?” he asked giving the point of wanting to sit next to you.

“Oh, of course.” you took your bag from the seat next to you and Jongho sat on it. He immediately shared a bright smile. Jongho was extremely happy to be near you. He wanted to know more about you.

“So, y/n, where do you come from?” you looked at Jongho with a serious expression. You felt insecure about revealing your identity to him but you also felt like even if he knew your secret, he would keep his mouth sealed for good. You took a deep breath and smiled again.

“I’m from Busan.” Soyeon looked at you in surprise as you began to reveal your real self. She immediately looked back at Jongho to view his smiley reaction.

“From Busan. That’s nice. Really nice. Your accent doesn’t resemble Busan’s accent though.”

“I grew up speaking the Seoul accent. Back home nobody speaks with the Busan accent.”

“I see. That explains it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The conversation with Jongho went on and on. Sometimes Soyeon stopped just observing and joined you two in your long chat. You talked about your hobbies and dream jobs. You felt relaxed while talking to Jongho. It felt nice to have someone to talk to about such things. Jongho could be a good friend. A really good one.

After a while and after you both have drank your drinks, you hear the sound from the door openning. The three of you turned your heads to the direction of the door. Your eyes widened as you saw two familiar faces coming in the cafe.

“Yunho. Mingi. Welcome.” Jongho stood up and walked to them. They greeted each other then Jongho turned to you again. “Come sit down with us.” Yunho and Mingi tunred their faces to you. They looked each other in surprise.

“What’s this? Why is y/n here?” the black haired man said. Soyeon looked at him and then at you. She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. You blushed lightly after realising that you have become famous among those guys in just one night.

“She just came over with Soyeon for a coffee.” Jongho replied instead of you.

“Did you know this was Jongho’s coffee shop?” the auburn haired man.

“No. We didn’t.” you replied immediately not waiting a second for Jongho to reply in your place again. “I had no idea this place was yours.” Jongho looked at you then back at the standing men. One of the men walked forward and placed his hand on his chest.

“We know you but you don’t know us. We still haven’t introduced ourselves.” it was the black haired man that took the lead. “My name is Yunho, Jeon Yunho. Nice to meet you, y/n and Soyeon.” after Yunho, the auburn haired man stepped forward as well and smiled.

“I’m Mingi. Song Mingi. Nice to meet you girls. Also sorry for the late introduction.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Nice to meet you guys as well.” you said as you stood up to shake their hands. Soyeon repeated your movements after you. They both seemed nice guys.

“Yunho and Mingi are my brother’s main bodyguards.” Jongho said first.

“Although San prefers to call us his friends. Our main job in the family is to protect the boss.” Mingi explained to you and Soyeon.

“I get it. That’s totally normal.” you spoke without thinking.

“What do you mean normal?” Yunho asked and crossed his arms. For a second you thought of what you said some seconds ago and began to stutter while trying to explain yourself.

“N-n-normal. H-he wouldn’t he cannot protect himself alone. O-of course he would call his bodyguards just friends. Just how proud is he.” The guys and Soyeon laughed loudly at your reaction and it felt like your words didn’t make any sense. What mattered was that you believed your words. You shook Soyeon off to make her stop laughing.

After the laughing was finally over, Jongho tunred to Yunho and Mingi.

“Anyways, guys. Why are you here? Did anything happen?” Jongho asked them and the guys’ faces went from smiley to dead serious.

“Come here.” Mingi pulled Jongho and the three of them walked far away enough from the table for you to not listen to them talking. Soyeon got worried.

“Do you think anything bad happen? They seem serious.” Soyeon asked and grabbed you by the arm lightly.

“I don’t know. I’m as curous as you right now.” you replied to her while holding her.

For three whole minutes the boys kept staring at you then at each other. This made you anxious. What was wrong?

Eventually the guys walked up to you again.

“Y/n, listen carefully.” Mingi spoke up before the others.

“What is it?” you asked full of curiousity and worry.

“It seems like you’ll have to stay at the mansion for a while.” Yunho continued the announcement. You looked at him even more curious than before.

“What do you mean– Which mansion are you talking about?”

“The Choi mansion. San’s house.” Mingi spoke again. You felt hot blood on the front of your forehead. Soyeon looked at the guys full of worry about you.

“Stop kidding. This isn’t funny.” Soyeon told the guys and grabbed your arm tighter.

“I’m afraid that it has to be like this.” Jongho said while looking at the ground. Mingi and Yunho found some guys out of your apartment. The last night’s incident came as a flashback to you and your eyes widened.

“The guys from last night...”

“Exactly... it seems that San’s men had left their spot for a bit and they found their way in there. You can’t stay there. It’s too damgerous. Too risky.” Yunho added. “We can’t just let a girl alone in a dangerous place.” You looked at Yunho with a serious face. He couldn’t possibly know about you not being just a normal girl. A normal girl would be weak. But you... No. How could you? You grew up in a fierce environment just like San and the other guys did. There was no single proof of your background. You just had to make sure you won’t get caught.

That was the moment when you realised that in order to keep your secret from them you had to act weak. They had already seen you fight but that was with other girls. You just needed to act as if you were inferior to guys’ power. That was nothing hard.

“Actually, it’s San’s house but we all live together. So, you won’t be alone with San, if thaat’s what troubles you.” Jongho and moved a step closer to you. You laughed it off.

“Don’t worry. It’s fine, I guess. Since you’ll be living there with me, I don’t mind having you around.” you said to Jongho and smiled brightly. Jongho smiled back with your answer.

“That’s good to know.”

“Great. It’s decided then.” Mingi said and stretched out his arms.

“You come home with us.” Yunho added. “About your stuff–”

“I’ll go pack them up. There are some things I still have to do so I’ll finish them up and come over to the mansion.”

“Are you sure y/n? It’s dangerous over there right now. What if anything bad happens to you?” Jongho asked all worried again.

“Then you can just watch over me while I’m finishing things up. I won’t be in danger as long as you’re around. Right?” Jongho sighed at your words. He was happy to hear you felt secured around him.

“Great. This way I’ll be able to watch over you.” Jongho’s face got all smiley again.

“Then, I guess we’ll have to say goodbye for now.” Soyeon looked at you and gave you a smile although you could see the worry in her gaze.

“Yeah. I’ll contact you as soon as I get to the mansion.”

“You better do.”

“Oh, and something else. Yunho, can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, what is it y/n?”

“Please take care of Soyeon for me. She was probably seen by those guys at my apartment this morning so she might also be in danger. Can you do it for me?” Yunho looked over at Soyeon. She looked back at him and smiled. Yunho turned at you and smiled. He nodded his head.

“Of course, y/n. If I don't bother her.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind you being around. But I’ll have to warn you about one thing. I’ll be going to a lot of clubs. You may not be able to follow me there all the time. I need my privacy.” Yunho looked at Soyeon and smirked.

“I’ll try to keep the needed distance.” Soyeon chuckled at Yunho’s words.

“Good.”

“Alright, then. Let’s get moving. Jongho, it’s time.” Mingi spoke up and walked to the door. Yunho followed Mingi slowly.

“Come on, Soyeon. I’ll take you home for now.”

“Okay, see ya y/n. Stay safe!” Soyeon hugged you tightly and followed Yunho to his motorcycle. They hopped on and run off. Mingi rode his motorcycle and headed to the mansion. Jongho turned to you.

“Let’s go. Jay, I’m leaving. Take care of the shop while I’m away.”

“Yes boss!” and with that Jongho held you by the hand and walked with you out of the cafe.

“Get in.” he said after showing you his car. You nodded. You got in the car and sat on the passenger seat. Jongho got in as well after seeing you closing the door and started the engine.

The ride lasted less than you imagined. Jongho made sure to drive fast so you could finish up faster than expected. He parked his car in front of the building your apartment was and you both got out. Jongho looked around to make sure no one was spying on you.

“It’s clear. Let’s go check upstairs.”

“Alright.” you walked to the elevator and got in. You waited for Jongho to walk inside and pressed the button.

When you reached the floor, the doors opened and you walked oit of the elevator. You looked straightt ahead. Your eyes met with a man that held a key on his right hand amd was about to unlock the door of the apartment next to you. He noticed you and turned around to look at you. You walked closer to him to greet him but then Jongho jumped in front of you with his eyes stuck on the man.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Jongho attacked the man with questions.

“I–I’m just living here.” then his eyes met yours and he pointed a finger at you. “Oh. Aren’t you the lady from last night at the club?” his question let a flashback intrude your mind. His voice, his gaze, it all reminded you of the barman from the club.

“Oh. Are you maybe... the barman of the club?” the man smiled as you recognised him. Jongho stood straight up watching you two.

“Nice to meet you again, my name is Lee Taemin and as you know I am a barman at the club.” he waved his hand in a cute way. He seemed really friendly.

“Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Lee. I’m Park Y/n.” you did the same to him with your hand.

“Oh, just drop the honorifics. Call me Taemin.”

“Is that fine? Hahaha, okay. You can call me y/n then.”

“Great.”

“Oh, and uhm, thanks for the help last night. The guy would have really caused me trouble.”

“It was nothing. It’s fine.” Taemin smiled really brightly after your thanks. Jongho looked at him then at you.

“What guy?” Jongho looked kind of more worried after hearing about an incident he wasn’t aware of.

“Oh, it’s nothing important. It’s not that I’ll see him again or anything. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know your boyfriend would be jealous.” Taemin spoke quickly.

“He- no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’m not. But her real boufriend will get really angry if I tell him his girl was talking to some barman, and even calling him by his first name.” Jongho had reached his limits with Taemin being all friendly with you.

“I’m sorry, dude.”

“Jongho, what the?” you looked in his eyes. What was he talking about? Was he too worried about you? Was he worried because of Taemin?

“Let’s just get this over with and go home. We’re running late. San is waiting.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” you turned to Taemin. “I’ll see you next time, I guess. Byebye.”

“Okay, bye.” Taemin put on the sweetest smile till now and finally unlocked his door. After he entered his apartment there was nothing but silence in the atmosphere.

Taemin’s face changed. The sweet smile from before turned into a wicked, sick grin that painted his face nasty. “Gotcha birdy~”

Jongho walked to your apartment’s door. You followed him annoyed.

“You know, you didn’t have to be mean to him. He was just being nice.”

“No man working at a club is nice. Now, please. Pack your things. I’ll be waiting in the living room.” Jongho walked his way in the apartment as if he owned the place. You walked to your room and closed the door shut. The door made quite the noise. Jongho noticed that his behaviour made you pissed but he was as pissed as you were. He didn’t like Taemin’s face. He didn’t look like a decent man.

You sat on the bed all angry.

“Why is he acting like that? I mean... He’s here to help me but why would he get angry because of Taemin? There’s nothing wrong with him, is there?” you sighed and got up to pick up your bags.

After finishing your things up you walked out of the bedroom and joined Jongho in the living room. Jongho noticed you and got up from the couch.

“Are you ready?” your eyes turned on the suitcases in your hands then nodded at him.

“I think that’s all.”

“I’ll take these.” Jongho grabbed the suitcases from your hands and stood up the door. You opened it and you both walked to the elevator. You looked at Taemin’s apartment door. It was closed. Would he get offended by Jongho’s behaviour? Anyways. You pressed the button on the elevator.

When you finally left the building and got in the car Jongho placed his hands on the steering wheel and sighed deeply. You didn’t look at him though. His head turned toward yours.

“I’m sorry for earlier. I really am.” his words were soft coming out of his mouth that itade you look at him.

“Why were you like that to him? He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know. I just... I don’t know... I don’t like that guy.” Jongho tried to calmly tell you his reasons. You nodded your head.

“I see. But you could be more kind to him.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful of my actions next time. Let’s go home for now.” Jongho started the engine.

Back in Busan, your fiancé, Kai, had decided to visit you at your home. He came on his red Porsche. He parked his car in front of the mansion, your old home, and got out of the car. He fixed his dark blue suit and walked in the house. All the maids were totally simping over his stunning looks. Your step mother headed over to him to greet him.

“Welcome, dear. How have you been? How is your father doing?”

“Hello, Mrs. Park. I’m very well, so is my father. I thought it would be nice to come over for a visit. I hope I’m not causing any trouble to you.” Kai has always been sweet talking to your step mother. That’s why she liked him so much. You hated him. Not only for this. He was stunning, indeed. But not stunning enough to become your husband. You didn’t want to take him just because your parents said so, or because he made every girl melt with just a single glare. If he really wanted to win a place in your heart he had to change his personality. You had no single interest in him as he already was.

Your step mother guided him to the living room and they both sat down on some pretty golden lux sofas. She kept on telling him about his good looking appearance and how well suited he was to you. That was when he looked around the house only to see the staff and your step mother.

“By the way, where is my fiancée? I haven’t seen her in a while and I already miss her. She didn’t even call not even once since the engagement. She’s so cruel. All I do is love her but still–” his words her cut off as your step mother covered over his question.

“Actually. That rascal... She run away.” she laughed a little to make it seem funny. Kai looked at her. He was at a loss of words. He didn’t ever imagined that you would run away because of this. He knew you didn’t stand him at all but he never thought you hated him that much as to run away so you could not marry him. He felt hurt. But he laughed it off as your step mother did. Their laughs were just ironical. It was as if you had become their little easy prey that you could hunt wherever you hid yourself. Nasty. Rotten. Their laughs filled the house and that made Chaerin come out of her room and fown the stairs. She hid herself behind the wall near the living room and listened to what her mother and Kai were talking about.

“How cute of her to run off just some days away from our wedding. She’s really sweet. Don’t you think, mr.s Park?”

“Indeed, my dear. Don’t blame her. She’s just confused. Her dad will find her and make her return before the wedding for sure. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that actually. I have a lot of friends in the whole country. I’ll just notify them and it’ll all be done.”

“As expected of our dear Kai. Y/n is so lucky to have you. Also so stupid that she doesn’t see the treasure she’s offered.”

“She will. I’m confident about this.” Kai smiled at your step mother. His phone suddenly rang and he took it out of his pocket to check who was calling him. On the phone was written the name Lee Taemin. “Oh. I have to pick this up. I’ll be back in a minute.” your step mother nodded as he stood up and walked a little further away for her. “Hello my dear friend. How are you?”

“Hey Kai. I’m doing just fine. How about you? How do the wedding preparations go?”

“It’s all fine except one thing I didn’t count that well.”

“You know, I might have found something interesting here in Seoul.”

“How much interesting?”

“Very much. Tell me, isn’t your fiancée’s name Park Y/n?”

“That’s right. Don’t tell me...”

“Yeah, I saw her in Seoul. The first time she was at the club I work with her friend. The second time I saw her was out of my apartment. She was with some other guy though.”

“Another guy?” Kai chuckled at the thought of you cheating on your soon to be husband. “Do you know who that guy is?”

“Actually, he was at the club as well but they didn’t talk at all there. He’s that little brother of that sly fox mafia boss Choi.”

“Oh. I see.” a nasty grin covered Kai’s face. “She just keeps getting more interesting to win her over. Now she even goes to other bosses in order to avoid me? Really interesting. And cute.”

“Shall I keep a close eye on her?”

“Just learn about her whereabouts. I’ll be coming to pick her up. Thanks for your help. You’re a really good friend Taemin.”

“Anything for you Kai.” Kai hang up and lowered the phone from his ear. The grin on his face just grew bigger. His look and aura became scarier.

“Fine. I accept your challenge y/n. Just wait for me.” he walked back to the living room after fixing his grin to a sweet smile as before. “I’m sorry it tooke so long. It was really important.”

“Oh, it’s fine Kai. You don’t have to apologise for this.”

“Actually, it was a friend of mine. He told me he found y/n.” your step mother and Chaerin’s eyes widened. “I’ll go pick her up in a few days. There’s no need to worry over her anymore. I have eveything under control.”

“That’s so sweet of you Kai. Oh, please, bring y/n back so you two can get married.”

“I definitely will.”

“Good. Now, if you please, the dinner is ready. Let’s get to the table.” she and Kai took off to the dining room.

Chaerin who was hiding all this time run back up to her bedroom and fell on her bed. “Where are you, big sis? They all have gone crazy here... How can I help you when you left without telling me anything?” she raised her head up. “I’ll call Chanyeol. He may be able to help.” she grabbed her phone and typed Chanyeol’s number. She was really detremined to help you with destroying Kai and he mother’s awful plans.

Back in Seoul, you and Jongho had arrived at the mansion. A butler was holding your bags. Jongho led you inside. He walked you to the living room where other seven men were sitting on the lux black couches. When you enterned the room they all stood up to greet you with the warmest smiles. All except one of them, San, who just kept looking at you with no reaction. You recognised only the four of them. Wooyoung, Mingi, Yunho and San, the big boss. It was about time you met the other three guys of the gang.

“We’re here.” Jongho announced officially. “Y/n will be staying with us from now on.” the other guys came closer to greet you.

“Hey y/n, we meet again. If I knew earlier that you’d be coming here I would have come over to fetch you.” Wooyoung was the first one to greet you but he was pushed back by the guy next to him.

“Wooyoung, for god’s sake, let the ones that haven’t introduced themselves do it properly.” he smiled at you and bowed lightly out of respect. “Hello y/n, my name is Hongjoong. I am a lawyer and San’s advisor. Nice to finally meet you.” he was taller than you. His bleached hair were shining under the bright lights of the living room. He was really handsome and looked like the more normal out of all of them.

“Nice to meet you as well, Kim Hongjoong.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Park Seonghwa.” he had nice black wavy hair that fell on the sides of his eyes. “I’m the oldest one among the guys. I’m a captain in the gang, if you know what I mean.”

“I know.” the guys’ eyes locked on yours as you said that. You realised that only an insider would have known the positions in a mafia gang and you didn’t want to seem like an insider at all. “I mean... I’ve seen a lot of movies, that’s why.” the boys nodded their heads understanding what you actually meant.

“Hello there.” another guy with black hair popped from behind. “I’m Kang Yeosang. It’s an honor to meet you, the one who marked our San’s heart.”

“Shut up Yeosang.” San growled. Yeosang laughed after managing to make San make a sound in front of you.

“Finally. You too come to greet y/n.”

“I don’t need to. I’m going to eat. Whoever wants to come is welcomed.” San went over the dining room and sat on his chair.

“Y/n, come eat with us. You must be pretty hungry.” Hongjoong offered you.

“It’s fine.” though your stomach didn’t seem to agree with your mouth cause after that it growled like crazy of hunger. The boys chuckled. “Fine. Let’s go eat.”

The boys led you to the dining room and sat on the table next to San. After a while the food was served and you all started eating. Most of the time you were eating, the boys asked you to talk to them about your life, so you did. Except cutting off some details. They, too, shared some funny stories with you. They seemed to enjoy your company and you didn’t find them annoying at all, in contrast of what you thought of them last night at the club. They were really warm and kind. Just like a family. They teased each other in front of you which made you laugh at their silliness.

After finishing the food the boys sat back on their chairs just looking at each other.

“How about we play some games?” Wooyoung said as he stood up from his chair. They boys found his idea interesting and stood up as well.

“Let’s go to the gaming room. Y/n come with us.” Mingi said and grabbed you by your hand. You took his hand willingly and walked with them to the gaming room. When San noticed you holding Mingi’s hand he stood up straight and started walking behind you. His eyes were completely locked on your united hands. You hadn’t noticed him behind you but you felt someone staring at you. You turned around only to be starlted by how much San was close to you. He bumped into you as you stopped walking.

“What’s wrong y/n?” Mingi asked you then looked at San who now was looking at Mingi with eyes full of jealousy. Mingi understood that San was like that because he was holding your hand. He smiled at San and let go of your hand. “Ah, sorry.” then walked past you and him leaving you alone in the hall for a moment. San looked at you as if he wanted to say something.

“Y/n... I–” he opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted him.

“They’re waiting for us.” you started walking away slowly. San got irritated at how you didn’t want to pay attention to him so he decided to force you look at him. He grabbed you by the arm and pinned you on the wall near him. You gasped out for air as your back bumped into the wall hard. He succeeded. He made you look at him. Although it wasn’t the exact type attention of attention he wanted. He still had succeeded.

“Listen here. If I’m about to speak, no one interrupts me. Not even you. So you’ll sit here and listen to what I have to say to–”

“If you scream growl at me again I’ll kick you hard where I hit you yesterday. I don’t find it difficult at all.” San gulped at the last night’s bad memory. He backed off you and now you were free to go. You flicked your hair and walked to the others.

“Where were you y/n?” Wooyoung whined.

“We were waiting for you.” Yunho said.

“I was gazing at the huge walls.” you laughed it off and joined the boys on the pool table.

After a whille San arrived and Wooyoung jumped on him.

“Where were you San? Did you get lost in your own house? Or perhaps, were you gazing at the huge walls as well?”

“No.” he answered sharply and his eyes fell on you who had stopped playing as he walked in the room. Wooyoung noticed the awkward atmosphere so he decided to lighten it up. He put an arm around San’s neck and chuckled.

“Come play with us. It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t want to.” San tilted his face away from Wooyoung’s. You noticed that Wooyoung was trying to lighten up the mood for San. You were aware that you pissed him off earlier. He wanted to tell you something amd you didn’t let him. Would he want to apologise? Whatever it was he was goimg to tell you, you’ve lost the chance to listen to it. You decided to help Wooyoung and make San play with you. You thought of using the easiest method. Make him feel that you doubt his confidence. You grinned and spoke up.

“He will probably lose. That’s why he refuses to play with us.” San looked at you.

“What?”

“Are you that afraid to lose?” you continued just wanting him to fall completely for this. Which happened.

“Are you assuming that I’m weak and a coward?”

“What? Am I wrong?” your grin got bigger as you got what you wanted.

“You shouldn’t say such things to him.” Hongjoong whispered in your ear.

“Just watch.” you whispered back at him which made Hongjoong curious. San walked up to Yunho and stretched out his hand.

“Give me the pool cue. I’m going to prove to y/n that I’m no coward. Bring it on.” your grin got even bigger after San had accepted your challenge.

“Let’s play.” you said but Wooyoung stopped you both before starting the game.

“Wait. How about making a bet?” he suggested.

“Yeah let’s make a juicy bet.” Seonghwa continued Wooyoung’s idea.

Taglist : @reeateez @xduygu-arsx @paigeeastman @moonmark98 @leicy0756 @kpop-khh-writer-trash @chonsayeosang

(whoever wants to be added just say so)

[okaybutlikeimagine]

Forever’s Not So Long

(hi, major apologies but I actually wrote something canon compliant and it hurt lol. also preface: this is not me advocating for or demeaning religion or Catholicism. my family is Catholic but I don’t call myself religious. I just listened to DeVotchKa and cried over Billy)

TW: mentions of Catholicism, questioning religion, implied/referenced domestic abuse, implied/referenced child abuse, major character death

(it’s also on AO3 if you’d rather read it there)

---

Billy never understood it: going to church every Sunday when he had cartoons and corn flakes and PJs at home. He never understood having to wear his fanciest, itchiest shirt, especially because only the one would do so his mother had to wash it and iron it every week- even though she burned herself on the iron a handful of times through all her distractions. He never understood wanting to go somewhere where they told you what to do. It was all they ever did there, and there were few things he hated more than being told what to do. Stand and sit and stand and kneel and sit and stand and sing and speak speak speak. There were too many words he didn’t understand. There were too many people talking at once. There was too much and yet not enough going on to the point that he felt under stimulated and overwhelmed and desperate to crawl out of his skin and that incredibly itchy shirt.

There was no sense to be found in his grandmother either, and the way she clutched at her bible on her way to church. They used to drive her every Sunday, but then they moved further away and trips to church got less and less frequent until they stopped altogether. Still, she walked herself to church every week, some weeks every day. Billy only knew because his mother complained and worried herself sick over it. His grandmother insisted she wanted to. She had to.

“Just because you lost your devotion doesn’t mean I’ll lose mine.”

It took a couple years for Billy to understand the words.

And still it was nonsensical. So many questions of why sped through his head.

Billy would spend some weekends at his grandmother’s house and on those weekends, she’d drag Billy to church with her small wrinkled hand on his limp and sore arm. It didn’t matter how old he got- he was 9 and insisting his parents had let him stay home before and still she made him walk with her there. Stand and sit and stand and kneel and sing and speak and speak and speak.

“It’s good for you.” She insisted. Billy thought wistfully of TV and his grandmother’s pet cat that would lay next to him on the couch.

And on those Sundays, as Billy stood bathed in the bright light of the morning sun slipping through the colorful windows, somewhere in the middle of all those serious people, in his itchiest shirt that had wrinkles in it because his mother had been too sad to work the iron lately... his grandmother wept. Every time. Wept silently, tears spilling down her cheeks in rivulets of quiet emotion Billy couldn’t understand for the life of him. Eyes shining brightly, drowning in something indistinguishable, speaking the same words as everyone with a hushed voice like a promise to the world or herself or maybe someone Billy couldn’t see.

Billy never understood. More than that- he never forgave. He couldn’t help but turn angry eyes onto the building around them and the man at the front and the book gripped tightly in her hands. Too many factors in his grandmother’s anguish over something he couldn’t even understand.

But some moments etched themselves in Billy’s mind, and brought themselves to light on quieter days, in quieter moments of reflection and wondering. Moments when she would grasp his face… when she held out her shaking hands and stilled them on his cheeks, wet with tears because he was just a toddler and he watched a cat die in the street and he couldn’t understand. When she looked deep into his eyes and mumbled something that sounded like one of those promises and shed a tear for him and pulled him close. When she brought him over to light a candle to whisper a promise. When she gripped his shoulder and guided him to the kitchen to get a treat. When she prayed over her ice cream and over his too… maybe it made sense.

The time she introduced him to friends at church that smiled bright and friendly smiles and said “what a good kid”. The time she guided him through the church in the early morning when they got there before the service and she explained every picture and every story. The time she made him that fish pot pie that warmed him up from the inside out, because Easter was quickly coming and she explained why they couldn’t eat meat as they sat in front of the window and listened to the rain.

All the times she gripped her beaded cross over his bedside when he would fall ill, and closed her eyes tightly and rocked back and forth with it when one of the sicknesses got more serious. When he recovered just fine, and she laid a necklace with a woman on it over his neck and onto his chest- that same woman he saw everywhere in the church, the Mother. And then she looked at him with teary eyes and a watery smile as she allowed him to run off to play.

Maybe… maybe then, it made sense. In fractured moments of love and cherish, he could understand somewhere inside of him. Sometimes the devotion he saw in her eyes and felt in her actions made his heart feel right in ways words couldn’t describe. And those times, he could almost understand, as her passionate belief licked his wounds.

And he tried to hold onto that. Damn did he try to hold onto it- he’ll tell that to anyone. But it angered him still. Kind and beautiful moments never overshadowed the pain. It drove him wild with confusion and sadness and maybe something close to fear if he thought about it. At times he saw her as a woman possessed- obsessed and clinging to words and wishes and pleas of humanity. She clung to her book instead of taking her medicine. She yelled at his mother as she cried to her, begging her to listen. She walked and walked and walked even when she could barely keep herself up. She accepted rides only when she was begged to.

She gave her book to Billy’s mother one morning, after she had finally convinced them all to join her at church again. She handed it over with shaking hands and healthy eyes- healthier than Billy had seen them in a long time. Bright and clear. A smile that was a comfort. A look that was so serene.

She died suddenly the next day. His mother got a call from the neighbor who had gone over to check on her and ask if she wanted some baked goods. His mother wept the rest of the day and tried desperately to hide her tears behind smiles in front of Billy.

And Billy feared the book. Then he hated it. Then… he craved it.

A classmate mentioned the death of her own mother in class. She walked like she was in shock still. There was sadness in her movements. Billy learned the word “mourning”. He felt the despair encapsulate his heart as if he was mourning too- could imagine the pain and the sorrow and feared ever losing his mother. He remembered when his grandmother helped him understand death, so he wandered to his parent’s room and over to the book. He snuck in and stole it away and read what he could- the start of the world and the good deeds and the stories his grandmother once told him in the church.

He read about sacrifice.

Seven feet…

He read about hope.

You told her…. The wave was seven feet.

He read about humanity, and compassion, and understanding.

You ran to her… On the beach.

And he wanted that with him.

Yelling matches began. Infrequent until they weren’t. Crashing and shattering began. Quiet until it wasn’t- until it made its way nearer and nearer to his room. Until words became wails of despair and agony to “stay away from him”. When Billy began to clutch the book in shaking hands, began to rock back and forth, began to mumble words to himself he still wasn’t sure he understood.

Until he started taking sacrifice seriously. When his mind decided things were literal.

Stop it! Don’t hurt her!

Because she sacrificed. He heard so much. He figured sacrifice happens in lots of ways, in many forms. And he could sacrifice, too- get between it as well as his small body would allow. For the good in the world, and he saw a lot of good in the world, and she was the brightest.

So he could sacrifice.

But then she stopped. The book didn’t prepare him for when she would give up.

He wrestled with it for years.

How long? How long?! I miss you…

He thought sacrifice was a thing that always happened for the good. She told him he was all the good in the world- he was the sun and the moon and the stars and the Earth. He was every fantastical being. He was the light in her days.

But then she was gone- in a sudden and dizzying whirl of memories and pain, she became intangible. He watched, tired and dizzy from sleep, in the late late hours of the night as a cab raced her away from their home and into the darkness. It was an attempt to sneak away. Not even one last hug.

She left without her son, and Billy couldn’t fight the thoughts that in her flight, he became her last sacrifice.

I don’t understand… why not? Please Mom, don’t do this…

And he fought with himself more than anyone. In less than a month he was dodging jeers and anger and resentment and pain. He found himself mourning. He clung to the book while his ears rang from the yelling. He clutched it with red and shaking hands, clawing into the cover with desperation. He held it to his chest and begged for it to help him. He laid in bed and listened closely for the sound of the liquor bottles being slammed onto counters and he held the book. He mumbled the words he knew. He wondered if his grandmother could hear him up in the better place- if she was disappointed that he got the words wrong or just proud of him for trying.

Phone calls were frequent until they weren’t. Bruises weren’t frequent until they were. Billy clutched at his chain and the pendant and let hot tears hit his arms for the only Mother he had left.

And then the anger rose again. He quickly realized how he never forgave, and never should. How he couldn’t. Tears to books weren’t worth it- they only wrinkled the pages and blurred the words.

Sacrifice wasn’t worth it. Not when it involved leaving him in hell anyway.

Loud music drowned it out. He could make his ears ring all on his own.

Fights numbed it. He could bruise his body up on his terms, or bruise another body just the same.

Pushing away feelings fixed it. It can’t hurt to be someone’s sacrifice if you don’t care about them.

There were seagulls.

And he didn’t care.

He shoved the book in the back of his closet. He berated himself for ever thinking the words were real. He kicked himself for believing words and pleas were safeguards against anything physical. He sat and wondered to himself angrily, angry as all of Hell and every wretched being inside it, how he could remember his grandmother’s empty tears and think it was sane. Think it was reasonable. How he could experience her death and think it was understandable.

Fuck feelings and wanting and pleading. He didn’t care.

Not then.

But now...

She wore a hat… with a blue ribbon.

Now now now...

A long dress… with a blue and red flower.

Days have been gray for years. He also left his sun. He didn’t pack it with him.

She left him then she left him and then he left her too. Left it all behind.

Y-yellow sandals… covered in sand.

But he never found a way to leave behind the memories. Even when they fade in pulses, they don’t leave him. In the dark of night, he sees them. In the light of day, he sees them. In the sunshine and the shadows.

He sees them now.

She was pretty.

He sees her and her smile. Feels her and her warmth. His body has been so cold for so long… has been freezing for days but maybe also for years. He’s been cold for so long. But the chill of the ocean that he remembers like he turned 9 only yesterday… he remembers that differently. He remembers that’s different.

Her laugh is a song and her eyes hold prayers. The sand is so soft beneath his feet. The seagulls are calling him home.

He feels tears and he sees them too… on another face, bloodied and saddened and desperate as the flames of Hell themselves. Desperate, perhaps more like the clouds of a more promising place, beckoning him to something better.

Maybe desperate like the Earth. Like the trees and the leaves and the grass. Desperate like a human.

She was really pretty.

Yes… yes she was.

She was the sun… she was the sun and the moon and the stars and the Earth. She was every fantastical being. She was the light in his days.

And just because light fades, doesn’t mean it can’t come back. The book has told him. Told him light can return. Told him light is there if you only search for it. Told him sacrifice is for light.

Oh god that book… Where is it....

He’s been in the darkness for days. Weeks months years. There’s been so little light. But there was one… one that came into his mind when he was wallowing and forgetting himself. A girl, who held her hand out and looked at him like a human. Made him feel human for the first time in a long while. Let him shed a tear before the monster took over him. Let him show her all the fears of his life.

And that light is here now, talking him out of himself… now now now-

And you… you were happy.

Yes.

Sacrifice is for others. Sacrifice is for those who depend on you.

Sacrifice is for the light brushing his cheek. For the child in his heart still, begging in pleas he’s borrowed from his grandmother.

He stands on shaking legs, with the light of the sun in his heart and with hot tears filling his eyes, and he wishes with all of him that he had that book. His fingers twitch at the memory of feeling it in his hands. His heart lurches at all the memories- memories of women who held him close and begged to some invisible force that his life be easy.

He remembers, briefly and vaguely, the pleas of his grandmother. That he be happy and healthy and safe. That life be easier for him than any of them because he deserved it. She begged and pleaded all the time. She hoped and she wished.

His body aches standing here, staring down the monster that mirrors the evil that’s taken over his body and made it its own. And still, he’s within himself again. He sees it as clearly as he can with tears and with headaches and with every last memory and every last strike of pain.

There’s fear coursing through him… but that’s what comes with sacrifice. He knows that better than anyone, he thinks. He allows himself that last, tiny bit of selfishness.

Sacrifice isn’t easy. It’s pain and it’s fear- it’s the worry that maybe it won’t work. Maybe it won’t be worth it. Maybe the pain searing his hands at holding every evil thing back is only giving mere seconds of grace before the world ends anyway, putting all his actions in vain.

But this monster is him too. It’s the thing consuming him. With every strike it takes to his body, it’s attacking itself, and he knows this. Even mere seconds of grace can be worth it… maybe sacrifice isn’t always about success, just for the chance of hope. Isn’t that right? Just for a chance...

It’s violent… does sacrifice always have to be so violent?

His body falls… does sacrifice always have to end with someone fallen?

There are shrieks, distant and muffled…

Light fades and enters and fades, pressure appears on his arms and his name is being spoken. His mind briefly registers the face, the face of a girl he’s sacrificed himself for enough times he couldn’t count. A girl he’s stood in front of, metaphorically, to block any pain from reaching her. A girl he’s inflicted pain on, despite.

“I’m sorry.” is all he can force out, even through the desperation licking at him to say more. Say it all. Say everything.

In his last breath, the pain fades until all he can feel is the stickiness of the pendant on his sweaty and broken chest- the Mother pressed to him.

And he thinks of his grandmother. Thinks and wonders, with the wispy, fleeting thoughts going dark and black… thoughts of a place of hope and how his grandmother must be there- waiting with her clear eyes and kind smile and shaking hands to help him through it. To grab his arm and show him around. Just like she always did.

He wonders if he should thank her for the book.

[sweetchup]

Three isn’t a Crowd

Request by @al-shayfield: could you please do a killua x gon x reader little picnic date? if not that’s okay :)

Type: Gon x reader x Killua

Au?: Poly Au. Normal.

Word Count: 3500+

Warnings: Polyamory, The boys are still kids but this is a kid type of date so it’s ok, Hisoka being Hisoka, bullying, cursing

“Ok! So let’s go through the list before we leave.” You mumble, putting the last of the utensils into the basket. The light from the morning sun shined through the windows and onto the backs of the two boys across the table from you. “Ok, so Sandwiches and chips?”

“Yes!!” Gon chirps in, “On the left.”

You checked that off and moved to the next Item. “Soda and cups?”

“Yeah.” Killua says, bouncing a tennis ball on the floor.

“Chocolate cake?”

“Ye—“ “Definitely!!”

Gon turns to glare at Killua causing the white hair boy to stop bouncing the ball. Oh here we go again. You just ignore them and continue on with your list.

“Hey why did you cut me off?” Gon whined at Killua, who scoffs.

“You were too slow.”

“W-well I think you are trying to impress (y/n).” Gon huffs, pouting a little. While they were arguing you had looked up and down the list and realized you were done and hadn’t forgotten anything. Throwing away the list, you put the red and white plaid picnic blanket on top and closed the basket.

“Hah?! Are you an idiot?” Killua mocks, poking the boy in the head, “If I wanna impress her I would do something like this.”

Killua jumps over the table and gives you a grin. Before you can even rebut, he lifts you easily up onto one of his arms, making it look practically effortless. With his other arm he grabs the basket.

“This is how you impress a girl,” Killua says, very proud of himself. Gon, stubborn, doesn’t back down.

“W-well I can do better!”

You sigh as Gon pulls you off of Killua. This could take a while but then again what did you expect accepting a date with these two idiots.

—————————

“How many times do I have to tell you two to be careful? Especially with (y/n).” Kurapika scolds the two boys in front of him. “You're glad Leorio and I stepped in before she got hurt.”

Killua tches, clearly over Kurapika’s Scolding. “Yeah, yeah whatever. Let’s go Gon, (Y/n).”

Killua holds one of your hands while Gon holds the other. They both drag you away from Leorio, who had previously been checking you for any injuries.

“Oh! Umm.. Bye Mr. Kurapika! Mr. Leorio! Thank you very much!” You shout. Your voice growing more and more faded as you're dragged away. The two men wave at the trio until the door shuts close. As soon as they do, Leorio turns to Kurapiks. A pout was on the man’s face.

“Aww come on Kurapika, it’s their first date. you shouldn’t be so hard on them.”

“Of course I do. I mean didn’t you see (y/n)?”

Leorio blinks and scrunches his eyebrows, thinking back. “Hmm… I don’t think I saw anything out of the ordinary about her?”

Kurapika sighs “Leorio you have to remember we are currently staying in the Yorbian Continent. It’s not illegal but it’s very uncommon for polyamory here. It’s not like we are in the Republic of Padokia or the Azian Continent where it is common.”

“Oh. So you mean...”

“Yes, not only is (Y/n) from York New, where it is uncommon, so she knows the amount of ridicule and abuse she could go through but we also have to think about the huge amount of Anti-poly people that are recorded here in this town.”

“Yeah and I’m guessing Gon and Killua probably don’t know about that?” Leorio says, leaning against the wall. He looks out the window and sees the three holding hands, walking in the direction of the busy center of town.

“Most likely” Kurapika sighs, looking at the three as well. “I just hope that no one gets hurt”

———————————

“Ok!!” You say excited. You were trying to hide your nervousness. Not only were you on your first date ever with two handsome boys and had also tried on a new dress but you were in the Yorbian Continent on a poly date; not the brightest decision but oh well. You aren’t going to let your worries stop you. You were going to have fun, “So on our way to the park I say we quickly stop by at some fun places!! Does that sound okay?”

The two boys could only nod their heads. It wasn’t them being rude, they just couldn’t talk. You looked so cute as you did a little spin at fun and by getting shy when asking them if it was ok.

You giggled, causing their hearts to jump. “Let’s go then!”

——⚡️—🌸—🥦——

“First stop, The diamond theater!!”

All three of you looked in awe as you looked around the building you just entered. It looked absolutely magical. With trees made out of actual gold and silver, colorful jeweled animals and diamond and glass mural walls.

“Oh wow Killua look at this!”

Killua looks over and sees you pointing at something in a book. “It says right here that this is the biggest location with some of the highest amounts of rare diamonds and fire opals. Even counting red diamonds.”

“Oh wow”

“Ack! Killua!” Gon shouts, sounding concerned and worried.

Killua turns away from you and soon freezes. Looking up from your manual you see three men next to Gon.

“There’s the other one. Me doesn’t recognize girl though” A short man with a skull neck cloth covering his face said. He gave off weird vibes when he looked at you.

“Hey boys! How are you doing?” A man with a long bun on top of his head said, “Oh? Who is this?”

“None of your business old man!!” Killua says, pulling you behind him as Gon moves to stand next to him. As they glared at the two men, you looked towards the third man. He seemed different from the other two especially since with no shirt on and a cross tattoo on his forehead.

Yet you also noticed his eyes were very blank and emotionless compared to the two. It kind of made you sad looking at him. You wished the stranger could be happy. Oh! you know what you would do!

“(Y/n)!!” Killua shouts, his stomach dropping as you walk up to Chrollo. He goes to grab you but is stopped by Nobunaga and Feitan.

You look up at the man. Kind of shy now that you realized he was much taller and probably much stronger than you.

“May I help you? Young lady?” Chrollo says, amused by the fact you just simply walked up to him. The leader of the phantom troupe.

“A-ah, yes! I was wondering what’s your favorite animal?” You say. Quickly, you looked back and saw Gon and Killua waving their hands frantically. Oh, maybe they are cheering you on.

“Hmmm… a spider” Chrollo says after a couple minutes of thinking.

What an interesting choice. Holding out your hands you take a breath before bubbles conjure up around the man. The bubbles slowly start to form cute little bubbly spiders of all sorts of colors which start bouncing on and about chrollo.

Chrollo lets out a small grin as he reaches out and pops one. The boys sigh in relief. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as they thought. Chrollo suddenly kneels down to your height and pulls out a handprint book.

“So how does your Nen work, little miss?” Chrollo asks, putting a hand on your shoulder as you look untreated at the book.

“OH HELL NO!!” Killua shouts.

Killua quickly rushes in and grabs you from Chrollo. You looked confused as the two raced away as fast as they could from the scene. Chrollo chuckles as he watches them for a couple of seconds in amusement before standing back up.

“Not going after them Feitan?”

“No, me is.” Feitan grins wickedly up at Chrollo. “Me just giving them a head start. It’s fun that way.”

“Ok, but keep the little girl alive. She interests me.”

——⚡️—🌸—🥦——

“Ok so the Diamond theater didn’t work out….But this should! Ok so we are at…” Your voice trails off at the end as you are stunned at the scene in front of you.

“L-let go of me!! Illumi!!”

“Now why would I do that Killua? As your big brother I’m giving you a sign of affection, a hug. Mother told me it could work to get those silly thoughts out of your head. Though I would pref—“

First off, Killua was currently being hugged, well more like crushed to death, by a man. According to the man’s sentence he was Killua’s older brother? It was weird since they looked so different. You knew Killua was a Zoldyck so maybe they are half or step siblings? Or maybe his family is polyamorous too? Did the man just mention putting a needle into Killua? You had so many questions.

“Oh~~~ Gon!!!”

Now second, … what even was this? A clown like man was moaning over Gon trying to fight him. You think that was the easiest way to explain it so enough is said there.

You look down at your manual. You thought going to the biggest toy store in the world would be fun but you didn’t expect this. Those two men seemed to be having a blast, well of course at the price of Gon and Killua sanity.

“Hmm~~ who’s this?”

Looking back up you see the clown man is right in front of you. You hadn’t realized it now but… but…

“Wow! You are tall sir! Are you a model?” You say, your eyes sparkling. Your favorite shows of all time to watch were ‘Yorbian Next Top Model’ or ‘The Victor Secret Fashion Show�� so you always question handsome or beautiful people if they were models. Hey, you never know when you might accidentally meet one.

The red-haired man laughs and leans down to your height. “Oh aren’t you a sweetheart~~ I’m not, but I’m something even better, a transmitter~. Did you know my Nen, bungee gum, has the properties of both rubber and gum?”

You giggle as you see him using his Nen on a magic trick. “No, I didn’t know that. I think you would make a nice model though! You are very thin and muscular!”

“Well I’m thick and muscular in another area~~ Do you wanna—“ Hisoka is cut off as you see he is suddenly electrocuted. You see Killua still in the arms of the man (though his now long black hair is all poofy) , furious, as he pulls back his yo-yo. Gon quickly picks you and brings you away from Hisoka.

“Go to hell pervert!” Killua shouts as he kicks out of his brother gold. You three run away, again, Gon sticks his tongue out at Illumi as they leave.

“Oh. I want to talk to kill more” Illumi mumbles. He blank faces, even more than usual, as Hisoka lets out a very loud moan.

“Oh~~ Gon! Killua!!”

.

.

.

“Hey Gon. Killua. What’s that bright light over—“

“Don’t ask!!”

——⚡️—🌸—🥦——

“Ah we are down to our final place!”

“I hope this one goes well.” Killua grumbles.

“I’m sorry Killua. I wi—“

Killua cuts you off and squeezes your hand which he was holding. “Don’t apologize idiot, it wasn’t your fault. We just, for some reason, keep on bumping into the wrong people today.”

You feel another squeeze and look at Gon. “Yeah don’t worry (y/n)!!”

“Ok! So our final stop before the picnic is Lucy’s Celestial Palace!” You shout, as you three stop right in front of a crazy looking old factory building.

You give a reassuring squeeze to the boys about to walk into the star filled building. You would try your best to make sure they wouldn’t get recognized by any more—

“Gon! Killua!”

…or not…

“Oh Zushi! Master!” Gon shouts. Master? Oh! You turn around and see a boy and a man with glasses. He must be Master Wing! The one they told you taught them Nen! This couldn’t go bad.

“Hello boys! Oh and who are you young lady?”

“Oh! Nice to meet you I’m—“

“She’s (y/n), our girlfriend!” Gon shouts, cutting you off. You blush a bright red as Killua hits him over the head.

“Don’t cut her off, idiot.”

“Miss (y/n)” You looked up at Mister Wing, a serious look on his face. “If you don’t mind I would like to speak with Gon and Killua for a moment?”

“Y-yes of course”

You watch as Wing drags the two boys a little ways away. You wonder what he needed them for. You are snapped out of your thoughts quickly as you see Zushi turn to look at you before bowing. “Nice to meet you (y/n), Girlfriend of Gon and Killua. My name is Zushi. Osh!”

Still flustered, you turn and bow as well. “N-Nice to meet you as well Zushi!”

You two stop bowing and turn as you hear a loud hush from Wing. Gon’s face was red while Killua had a mischievous grin on his face.

“I wonder what master wanted from Killua and Gon.”

“Y-yeah. I wonder too.”

You two watch as Wing continues talking. Slowly but surely both of the boys faces are soon red as a tomato. How odd.

“AHH! WE DON’T NEED ALL THAT INFO.” Killua shouts walking back over to you. He blushes even more as he looks at you. Looking to the ground he takes your hand and drags you away. Gon follows slightly behind you guys, his face bright red, with steam coming out his ears. You couldn’t exactly hear what Gon was saying, only little bits like ‘how would that work’ and ‘that doesn’t make sense’.

You wanted to ask what Wing told them but decided against it.

—————————

“Finally we are here!!” Killua and Gon shout in unison, plopping on the grass. You giggle at the boy's silliness and put the basket under a tree.

As the two exhausted boys get some quick rest, you kneel down and the open the basket. You might as well get started while they calm down. Deciding to set the blanket up first, you pull it out. Holding two of the edges you fluff it out, letting the wind carry it for a bit, and finally laying it lightly down on the slightly dewy green grass. As you are about to set up the other stuff you hear the rustle and crunching of grass.

“Let me help you (y/n)!” Gon says, sticking his hands into the basket. He grabs a whole pile of stuff and starts wobbling over to the blanket. Almost dropping the chocolate cake several times, Killua would be so mad if Gon destroyed it.

“A-ah be careful Gon!”

“Don’t worry I got it!”

After getting everything set up, and thankfully Gon didn’t drop or break anything, you all sit down and finally have lunch. You take small bites of your freshly made sandwich as you watch the boys wolf down their food. It was kind of amazing at how fast they were able to eat and you kind of wonder who would win if it was a competition. Unless they were having one and you didn’t know it.

“Ah that was good~~” Gon says, laying on his back and patting his stomach. You laugh while Killua just rolls his eyes. Grabbing your pudding you go to take a bite of your dessert when you get an idea.

“Killua~” You singsongly say; holding the spoon up to the boy’s face, “Say ahh~”

Killua stutters to say something as he goes bright red. Flustered, he turns his head and lets out a small ‘idiot’ as he tries to compose himself.

“Oh come on Killua!” You whine, slightly pouting.

“I’ll have it (y/n)!” Gon says, quickly sprinting over and sitting in front of you. He opens his mouth wide and points to it causing you to giggle. You were about to feed him when Killua headbuts Gon and eats the pudding instead.

“Hey! What was that for!!” Gon shouts, holding the bump on his head.

“She offered it to me first, idiot!”

Gon was about to stand up and start something with Killua but you pull the boy back down, placing his head on your lap. You sigh as you run your fingers through the blushing boy’s hair; being extra careful in the area of the injury.

“You two need to stop fighting. For crying out loud you two are best friends! This isn’t a competition”

“Sorry (y/n)” They squeak out; clearly embarrassed.

“Now sit still so I can feed you two the rest of the pudding. Gon say ahh~~”

“Man what a little whore.”

You stop dead in your tracks as you hear that. Your hand slightly clenches around the spoon. You kind of expected something like this to happen but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. You slightly lift your head to see a group of people, one of which had made a comment earlier.

“God how gross!”

“Poor boys, that girl is selfish and can’t pick between them.”

“Wow, only a kid and already likes two at once. What a shame.”

“(Y/n).” You shoot your head to Killua, who puts a hand on your cheek. As he pulls it away you see his hand is wet, you hadn’t realized you were crying.

“Hey!” Gon shouts; standing up and going to fight them. Killua quickly grabs Gon’s arm and stops him, Gon, angrily, spins around and tries to pull his arm away. “Let me go, Killua!! They insulted (y/n)!”

“You idiot. Look around.” Killua whisper-yells. Gon looks around at the other people at the park, who were also starring and muttering. Some of which knew Nen, had weapons or looked overall strong. “Leaving her here is bad. Taking her in the fight is also bad. You know her Nen isn’t made for close combat and she’s not exactly focused right now to do long ranged”

“Well we can’t do anything!”

“I know…,” Killua mutters. The two stand in silence for a while until Killua suddenly has an idea. “Wait... Come here, I have a plan”

As soon as Killua finishes whispering the plan in Gon’s ear the boy gives him a nod. “Understand?”

“Yeah”

The two suddenly turn to you and begin to put away the stuff. Your stomach drops, you felt bad that this day got ruined, it seemed nothing had gone right. Tears start to well up in your eyes. Man what a useless crybaby you are—

“(Y/n)” You look up from the ground at the call. Suddenly, your cheeks turn crimson as you feel something on each side of your cheek. Gon and Killua had each given you a kiss on your cheek, with Killua on your left and Gon on the right.

With you being absolutely flustered and steam coming out of your ears, you accidentally activate a Nen bubble around all three of you. Killua and Gon pull away, grinning at each as your brain is practically mush.

“Ready Gon?”

“Yeah!”

Gon and Killua jumped out of your protected bubble. Since you were practically a puddle you were unaware of the Chaos about to happen. Their plan to get back at the people who made you cry. The two fist bump before going off in opposite directions.

“Jan….Ken….Rock!!”

“Lightning Palm!!”

“RUNN!” “MY LEG!” “AHHHH!”

—————————

*pop*

You finally pop your bubble as you come to. But what in the world… happened? You must have missed a lot since the Park was practically destroyed, with trees cut down, people on the ground (some of which were twitching), and the ground uneven.

“(Y/n)!!” You look towards the sunset to see Gon and Killua running towards you, both laughing. As they stop in front of you, they turn to each other, grinning widely, giving each other a high five. This even confused you more, why in the world were they high fiving? Did they do this? Why did they destroy a perfectly good park? Wait, did they do this for—

“(Y/n)...” a voice whispers right next to your ear. You quickly turn and realize Killua had sneaked up on you while you were thinking. While frozen still, Killua leans in and gives you a kiss.

Though it was a small and light kiss, it definitely didn’t feel like one. Once your lips had locked a shock went through all the nerves of your body, causing you to shiver and clutch onto Killua’s shirt. On top of that, the kiss felt like Killua was putting in every bit of love into it. Almost like he was sharing a secret. Huh. A Transmitter’s kiss. You two slowly pull away and give each other a small smile. Killua silver hair blows in the wind under the shaded tree.

“My turn!!”

You quickly turned your head and felt lips crashing onto yours. Stumbling, you can’t hold Gon up and begin to fall back. The kiss was sudden and rushed. Definitely Gon was being impatient. Yet, it was nice. It was simple and straightforward. A very sweet and lovely kiss. Definitely a kiss from an enhancer.

As you're on your back, Gon pulls away and holds himself above you. The light from the sun shines upon him as he gives you a wide grin. You smile back at him until he is suddenly pulled off.

“You idiot!!” Killua shouts, “What did Kurapika say about not hurting her?!”

“I wasn’t!! You could've hurt her too when you sneaked up on her!!”

“I wouldn’t—“

You giggle as you watch the two argue, slightly brushing your fingers across your lips. Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all!

[hold-your-applause]

An original idea~

Warning: Spoilers for Season 4

Pick-Me-Up

He had slept as much as he was going to in that hospital bed.

He was still worn out from the fight, and every part of him ached, but there was only so much sleeping a man could do. And there was only so much hospital food a man could eat before getting sick of it, but there was nothing he could do about that, either.

All he could really do was look outside the window with Tamaki asleep on the next bed over. He was relieved that both his interns were expected to make full recoveries; seeing how far Kirishima pushed himself had him worried until he saw Tamaki still on his feet after all was said and done.

It was hard not to feel lonely in the quiet room, though.

"Fatgum?"

He blinked and looked over at the door, surprised to see you standing there.

You weren't a hero or a sidekick, but you worked at his agency near his office. He'd taken quite a shine to you, enough that he had started getting you to accept his lunch invitations despite your shy demeanor. He originally thought he was coming on too strong, but lately he thought maybe he wasn't making his intentions obvious enough.

"Hey. What're you doing here?"

He watched you look out into the hallway conspiratorially before moving over to his bed. It wasn't until now that he noticed you were holding your coat rather awkwardly. You moved over to the side of his bed with his good arm before moving it, and once he caught sight of what you were hiding, he could have started crying right then and there.

It was a to go bag from his favorite restaurant.

"I thought maybe you would get bored with the food here, so I brought you your usual."

You really were the answer to all his current prayers.

"You didn't have to spend that kind of money on me."

You shook your head with a soft smile. "I didn't. When I called in and told them this was for you in the hospital, they insisted on giving it to me free of charge. They wanted me to tell you they hope you get better soon."

He let out a breath of amusement, smiling back at you. "Tell them I'll do my best."

He watched you place the bag on the table and start to unload everything onto it, leaving very little room for much else on its surface. He was amazed that you were able to sneak so much past the hospital staff, but then again, you had a very trusting face; one would feel guilty of accusing you of anything.

"You're somethin' else, you know that?"

You coughed, cheeks turning that light pink he loved so much. Your focus was now fully on him, and he could see your eyes taking in all of his injuries. Your brow furrowed, and he felt compelled to quell your concern.

"Don't worry! It looks worse than it feels, I'll be good as new in no time."

You shook your head. "That's great news, but that's not... what I'm thinking about."

"It's not? Then what's wrong?"

For a moment you just continued to look at him, looking unsure. He was about to tell you there was no pressure to tell him anything, but you spoke first.

"We got the call at the office about you being here. Before they told us what the damage was, all we could do was speculate, and for a moment I felt so..."

You bit your lip instead of finishing your sentence, clearly thinking about what to do next. He tilted his head at you.

"You felt..?"

You sucked in a breath and were suddenly moving, and before he could process your hand grabbing his good shoulder his mind suddenly ceased all functioning when your mouth was on his. His eyes were wide and he stopped breathing, only aware of how gentle you were being with him.

You pulled away seconds later, the look on your face giving away that your actions were just as much of a surprise to you as they were to him. You fumbled for words for a moment.

"I... I should go."

You stepped back to attempt a retreat, and he found himself lurching forward to grab your hand, ignoring the pull in his ribs.

"Wait!"

You cautiously looked back at him over your shoulder, still looking like you wanted to run.

He gave you the brightest smile he'd worn in days.

"You think you can just drop that on a guy and then run away? No way."

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand to try to ease your tension.

"Come on, stay? I think I'll need help eating all this, anyway, with my arm like this."

He watched your shoulders relax and your smile return to your face.

"Alright."

He wasn't feeling so tired anymore.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Runaway: Roommates AU

For @a-marlene-s​ and the contest, for the prompt: Runaway

A Harry Potter-based Miraculous Ladybug AU. With roommates.

_________________________________

Marinette was a big believer in luck. She came by it honestly, as there was something of a family belief regarding the unknown force that impacted their lives.

Her Uncle’s luck helped him work his way to becoming a world famous chef.

Her Mother’s luck led her to her husband.

Marinette’s luck gained her a strange roommate and his equally strange cat.

...If there really was a universal force directing fortune as her family believed, she had some questions for it.

It was just Marinette’s luck that the day she met Adrien, she was in the market for a new roommate. She had been sharing her flat for the last five years with her best friend, Alya, and they got along well. But Alya had a boyfriend and they had recently chosen to take the next step in their relationship and get a place together. Marinette understood, of course, but it still left her now as the sole resident of a flat that was outside of her budget and forced to choose to give it up or find some other way to make ends meet that wouldn’t involve giving up food and end up causing Alya and Tikki to stage an intervention.

The choice should be obvious, but Marinette loved her flat and was loathe to leave it. Sadly, she had only been able to afford it previously because she had shared expenses with Alya. On her own, it was more costly than she could afford and more room than she really needed.

But oh...what other place had an extended balcony that was perfect for a garden? Or such wide windows that were positioned to let in light but avoid the sun’s glare? Or had a built in desk and a space she could use as a crafting nook?

She was already having to say goodbye to Alya, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her home, too.

But it seemed that Luck pulled through for her, albeit in a rather...unusual way.

When the blond cinnamon roll appeared in her bakery, looking so lost and confused with no idea what to do or where to go, and nothing with him but a suitcase and an equally unhappy cat...she hadn’t known what to think of him.

Well, that’s not quite right. Her immediate thought had been to take the poor boy in and hug him until he stopped being sad.

Then he tried to pay for a single croissant with an overabundance of a strange type of coin. And it became clear that the man was very much not from around here. And had no idea how money worked.

Or how anything worked apparently, given his multitude of strange reactions to things.

Admittedly, she had been a bit hasty in her offer of letting him stay with her. After all, inviting a complete stranger to live with you was...generally not the brightest idea. If anything, it was usually the setup to a horror movie. But Marinette still went through with it anyway.

To this day, she still didn’t know what made her do it. Desperation, perhaps? Attributing it to her luck and not wanting to let an opportunity pass her? Or maybe it was the way something about him had drawn her in...

Regardless, he had no place to go. And she had a place he could use. It seemed like a mutually beneficial arrangement.

She just hadn’t realized just how lost Adrien was when they first met and introduced themselves to each other. Not until after he first moved in and it became abundantly clear how unfamiliar he was with...well...everything. It was no wonder he had been so overwhelmed when she first met him.

She couldn’t help but want to help him.

She just hadn’t realized what all that would entail...

____________

“Marinette! What is THAT?!”

“That’s the microwave.”

“WHY IS IT BEEPING? ARE WE GONNA DIE?”

“No, Adrien, it’s just popcorn.”

“What are these words?!”

“Do you really not have popcorn in the country?”

“Why is the bag big now? Is it magic? Are you magic? Because—”

She just shoved a couple of the popcorn pieces in his mouth at that.

_____________

"Wait, you mean you don't know how to use a washing machine?"

He shrunk in on himself. "No."

She blinked in surprise. She could have sworn…

“But...then how have you been washing your clothes?"

A long pause.

He simpered. “Can I choose not to answer that?"

She sighed. 

_____________

“Marinette! Your morning wake-up box is beeping. You need to get up.”

She mumbled and turned away from Adrien and the offending noise.

He frowned. “Marinette, it won’t turn off unless you do the thing.”

She pulled a pillow over her head and continued to ignore him.

Undeterred, he approached her bed. Against better judgement, he poked at her to get her attention.

“Mari—”

A hand suddenly made contact with his face. In an all too similar manner to how she would normally try to subdue the ringing wake-up box.

It would take two days worth of apologies and make up gifts of hot chocolate and pastries for him to forgive her.

_____________

She frowned, looking at an expanse of wall and empty space on one side of the den.

“That’s weird…didn’t we have something here before?”

Adrien stilled at that.

“No.” He answered tersely.

“I could swear there was something.”

“Nope.”

She tilted her head, thinking. “I thought this flat had a fireplace? Didn’t we use it sometimes?” She could have sworn...

“You must be imagining things.” Adrien told her, taking hold of her shoulders and trying to guide her to the couch on the other side. “There hasn’t been anything there since I moved in.”

“Oh. Maybe it was a shelf or something Alya took with her.”

“That must be it.”

“Hmm…maybe we could set up a television there…”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied automatically as he drew her away from the area.

So caught up in her thoughts, she never noticed the dirty glare Adrien shot towards the now blank wall.

_____________

She had thought the introduction to television would be the biggest thing.

And she was right.

“What is THAT?” He asked in wonder, staring in shock at rectangular box with moving images inside.

“It’s a television.” She explained, gesturing to the screen as Romero confessed his love to Julia in the Spanish soap opera her cable had somehow allowed her access to.

She bit back a laugh when Adrien attempted to touch the screen. “Are they stuck in there?”

Omg, he was so adorable.

“What? No! It’s…well…it can play sounds and images from somewhere else. Things that were pre-recorded and are replayed for entertainment.”

He perked up at that. “Like a radio?”

Okay, good. So wherever he was from, he wasn’t THAT far behind on technology. Only early 1920’s instead of the nineteenth century like she’d feared.

“Yes! It’s just people pretending.”

“Oh.” He sighed, still enraptured by the TV.

“Yeah, and there are all different types of shows and movies. Different genres and different styles.”

“Styles?” He asked, finally tearing his eyes from the television to look at her.

“Sure. There’s live action, CGI, animation—”

He blinked. “Animation?”

“Yeah, like cartoons and anime.” She frowned, considering. “Actually, I think there’s…what channel was it on again?” She used the remote to flip through channels until she reached one particular network that was currently playing some anime she vaguely recalled.

Adrien gasped, his eyes even wider than she had previously thought possible. And there was a particular shine to them as he stared at the TV like it was the holy grail. He barely noticed Marinette anymore, now standing in front of the TV and completely enthralled.

Marinette chuckled softly to herself as she lightly took his arm and pulled him back so they both sat back on the couch. Adrien let her, his gaze never straying from the screen as the teen magical girl protagonist transformed to fight the monster of the day.

That was the day Adrien was first introduced to anime.

It was also the day Marinette inadvertently created an otaku.

_____________

One day, he had called her in a panic while she had been at work.

“Adrien?! What’s going on?” She asked.

“It…this thing just came out and it’s crawling the floor! IT ATE PLAGG!”

She balked. “WHAT?”

“He tried to attack it and—wait. Plagg? You’re alive! What are you…NO WAIT PLAGG, NO!”

Marinette had practically thrown her apron to Tikki and rushed home. Within minutes, she had reached the flat and slammed the door open to what could only be chaos.

Or at least the sort of chaos that comes with Adrien huddled with his legs held up on the couch and glaring in betrayal as Plagg proudly sat atop the Roomba that was still making its way across the floor.

And…

Yeah, Marinette couldn’t.

She just couldn’t.

It took a good five minutes for her to stop laughing.

Adrien pouted the whole time, muttering about traitorous cats and roommates.

And Plagg continued to ride the Roomba. Looking for all purposes like a king, even when it knocked into the counter at one point and an empty can of Camembert fell on his head.

Marinette just laughed harder.

_____________

She had slowly been introducing Adrien to the world. Bit by bit. One lesson at a time. And with each day that passed, he seemed to become more comfortable with her and the world at large. And while he never said much about his life before, what he did say (and what he didn’t) was more than enough to paint a picture. One that Marinette didn’t like and made her silently swear to herself she would be having WORDS with his family if she ever met them.

But Adrien had been getting better. Happier. More outgoing as time passed. 

He had even gotten a job at the coffee shop as a barista. Which was kind of amazing, to be honest. He didn’t know anything about coffee, but he seemed skilled at mixing things. When she had asked, he made a comment about “potions” being his best class.

Funny guy. Though she wasn’t sure she understood the joke.

There was also just…something about him that seemed to draw people in. Whenever he was working the register (after he had finally learned how to work the machine and count money, and wasn’t THAT an experience in itself?), the number of customers seemed to grow exponentially compared to other days. It just didn’t make sense. Adrien just smiled and said it was part of his charm.

Another joke she didn’t understand.

Tikki seemed to get it though. Her friend was also a bit weird, but she and Adrien seemed to get along rather well. It was like they shared a bond of some sort.

To be honest, Marinette was a little jealous.

But she was happy for him. He was really growing over the months they spent together. Wherever he came from, it didn’t seem to be the healthiest place. Adrien certainly never wanted to talk about it, so the best she had to go on were his behaviors and conjecture.

He seemed happy, at any rate. He was able to leave the apartment now. He was making friends, and seemed to be getting rather popular even. He had a job—not that he seemed to need it given how much money he had…even if he had no idea how to use it.

Who tried to pay for a pastry in gold coins anyway?

Ah well. It didn’t matter.

Whatever happened, he was her weird roommate.

And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adrien liked his “roomie”. Marinette was…nice. She was patient and took the time to explain things when he didn’t understand. She didn’t yell at him for making a mess—which he did…often. She smelled like cookies.

And most importantly, she didn’t ask questions.

Oh sure, she gave him weird looks fairly regularly. And she was clearly confused by his lack of knowledge about things that were normal to her. But she never ridiculed him for it. If anything, she was teaching him, and he had to thank her for it—especially for anime. Because this? This was awesome!

She was the best roommate he could have asked for.

Even if she was a Muggle.

He shouldn’t be with her. Or here at all. How could things have possibly worked out this way? Or even half as well as they have?

Adrien Agreste was a Wizard. The son of Gabriel Agreste, a high-ranking official of the French Ministry and personal friend of the French Minister of Magic. He came from a long line of powerful Wizards and no blood pollution.

At least…not until his mother, whom had been a half-Veela.

Gabriel hadn’t known at the time when he chose to pursue her. And it remained questionable to this day whether it had been her Veela charm that had driven him to her in the first place. But he had been furious when he had realized it, and it was considered a dark mark on the family line.

Maybe that was why she was gone? It was certainly why Gabriel had kept Adrien isolated for most of his life. At least until Beauxbatons. But even there, things had been…stifling.

A private room. His classes carefully chosen for him. Personal tutors. And his interactions with other students were kept limited to avoid anyone falling under his charm. But even then, his heritage gave him an aura of some sort. One that made people in awe of him, but only further increased the distance between him and everyone else.

Sure, Chloe was there, and she had been his childhood friend, but the Minister’s daughter did not endear herself to anyone. And when it became known he was her friend, it hadn’t helped matters.

It was little wonder that a number of the other students avoided him.

Other than ones who wanted to use him.

Like Lila Rossi.

He hadn’t known what to think of the girl. She was popular enough, sure. But her stories rang false to him and she tended to treat people around her like helpers rather than friends. He knew from the start that there was something about her that was untrustworthy.

Lila…had an unusual interest in him. One he didn’t like. It made him uncomfortable.

And yet somehow, she wormed her way into his father’s good graces. So much so that of all people, Gabriel had decided to arrange a marriage for Adrien to her. Because of course it just made sense for the two to get together.

Not that Adrien’s opinion had ever been consulted on the matter.

Gabriel was nothing if not stubborn though. Once he had set his mind on something, that was it. Adrien had never won an argument against him. And he knew he wouldn’t win here either. Even when it was his own future on the line. Even when it was his life being decided for him.

So he ran.

It was quite possibly both the best and worst decision of his life.

He had been completely lost and overwhelmed at first. And almost immediately questioned his sanity. But he just couldn’t let himself back down on on this one. Sure, his father had always been somewhat overprotective of him and controlling of his life. And he had been fine with it. Mostly. Kind of. Not really.

But an arranged marriage was just…too much? He ended up gathering his more important belongings into his trunk and taking off with Plagg before he had even realized what he was doing.

Adrien had kicked himself afterwards. He had always given in to his father’s orders before and it turned out…well, not “fine”, but all right, at least. Surely…surely this wasn’t that big of a deal right? That his father was selecting his wife for him? That his future would be set in stone before he even really had a chance to figure it out for himself.

He was an adult now. Surely…he could choose what he wanted to do, right?

Well, he was an adult, sure, but he knew nothing about the world. And especially not the Muggle world, where he had escaped to in a rash bit of insight. Because surely his father would never think to look for him there? His father didn’t know anything about the Muggle world, after all.

Except then Adrien had realized all too late that he hadn’t even known anything about Muggles, either. His father wouldn’t let him take the Muggle Studies class, so he knew nothing about what they were like or how to fit in. He had money on him, of course, but what currency did Muggles use? How did he convert it? Where could he even look to for a place to stay?

Within two hours, he was regretting everything. He was debating giving in to his fate when Plagg had seemed to get an interest in something and ran off, resulting in a chase that led Adrien to a quaint little coffee shop.

If nothing else, he could take a break here and regain his bearings.

But…

Everything had smelled so wonderful. And the pastries looked heavenly. He had known it was a bad idea, but…well, maybe they could accept Galleons here?

How many Galleons were one of these pastries worth?

Well, a dozen should be enough, right?

The strange look that the girl gave him only made him want to duck his head in shame.

It wasn’t enough, was it?

But as if she was proficient in Occlumency and could tell exactly what he was thinking, she instead took him aside and talked to him. And despite himself, he told his story.

Well…half of it.

A third?

A little, at least. Just enough to give the basics of what she needed to know.

And it turned out to be enough, as she made him an offer he’d had to have been a fool to refuse.

That was how he ended up sharing a home with a Muggle. A sweet and strong woman whom, for all of their differences and completely separate worlds, he had felt closer to than anyone he had known in the Wizarding world.

She didn’t understand where he came from. And he certainly couldn’t tell her. Wizarding laws and secrecy and all. But she was still trying to help in her own way. And he could tell her…some things, at least. About his feelings. About his wants. Things he had never been able to tell his father. Things his father had never cared to listen to.

But she listened. And she cared. And she offered shelter. For him and Plagg, regardless of how much a of a pain the cat could be.

He had his own room, sure. But it was a quarter of the size of the old one and somehow all the better for it. While bare at first, the walls were eventually covered in silly posters from his favorite anime. The shelves were filled with books and toys, little knick knacks that actually made him happy to see. Some things Marinette helped him picked out. A lot of which were just things he saw and wanted. All sorts of things he had never been able to get back…there.

And he wasn’t stuck in the room either. He could leave it whenever he wanted. Spend time in the living room and watch the “television” and feed his growing love of anime (once he had gotten rid of the fireplace because he wasn’t about to risk someone trying to get in through the Floo Network, even by accident). Play “video games” with Marinette. Go on the balcony and enjoy the sun. Even just go out into the city whenever he wanted.

It was…a truly marvelous experience for someone who had been isolated for so long.

He even had a job now, working at the very shop where he had met Marinette. He knew nothing about coffee or the machines, but Potions was his best class and one he enjoyed. Mixing and cooking things to create something new was a rather amazing thing. And while coffee weren’t potions, he had come to realize that certain things he had learned in his class could translate over. A difference of heat and changing the length of time the coffee was allowed to roast resulted in a different flavor. Though he did have to fight for the position with another coworker by the name of Tikki, a friend of Marinette’s whom she introduced him to.

And that was the other thing…

“You’re a Wizard, aren’t you?”

He had admittedly not expected to run into anyone from the Wizarding world at all. But the short red-head with twinkling blue eyes caught him off guard completely.

Even as she smiled sadly at him.

“Marinette doesn’t know, does she?”

Dumbly, he could only shake his head in response.

He hadn’t wanted to be discovered. Not by anyone.

It turned out to be for the best though. Tikki was a huge help in getting him more acclimated. She explained to him more about fitting in as a Muggle. She even led him to the nearest Wizarding Bank where he was finally able to change his Galleons to the correct currency.

As a Witch herself, he knew she wouldn’t reveal him. And it was nice…having someone else who knew, even if she didn’t know the full story. She was still in touch with the Wizarding world and could help him. Giving him news or updates, point him to the nearest hidden shops for anything he might need. And yes, even laugh with him over his latest failures.

“It’s not funny!” He pouted as Tikki was practically howling after hearing the latest story about King Plagg the Roomba Rider.

“Yes, it is! YES, IT IS!”

“I even have video.” Marinette added cheerfully, much to Tikki’s pleasure as both women proceeded to look at her cellphone and chortle over the recording. Adrien was simply ignored and left to sulk.

He would never live it down.

It had been months like this, and some embarrassment aside, he had thoroughly enjoyed it. All of it.

He even enjoyed working. Though he admittedly felt a little guilty that his Veela charm seemed to draw in customers to the point where there would often be a pretty long ling just to order coffee. But Marinette and the other workers just laughed it off.

He was…really starting to consider this home.

The coffee shop. The city. The flat.

Tikki.

Plagg.

Marinette.

Rooming with Marinette was probably the best thing to happen to him. He had been trying new things. Learning so much he hadn’t known previously. Seeing things. Doing things.

Living.

It was...nice. It was home. It was everything he wanted in a home. Even if he was banned from activating anything besides the television when Marinette wasn’t there.

He was ever grateful that Plagg had led him to her.

[hajimesh]

loki’d

pairing: loki x reader

word count: 1.5k-ish

a/n: this is part of @marveltrumpshate 2019 auction. i feel so happy that i got to participate and i also want to give a big thank you to Katie, thank you so much for your donation! i hope you enjoy it♡

Masterlist

To say you miss the sun on your face and going out with your friends is an understatement. You are absolutely bored out of your mind and –to make matters even worse– you can feel your period approaching.

Pimples and cravings? Already here. Now it’s only a matter of time until you start feeling bloated.

The team has tried to keep themselves sane by having cooking classes (thanks, Vision and Wanda), play nights, and movie marathons. But what else can you do when you have an entire team of superheroes and enhanced beings with nothing to do?

Prank wars.

A bit cliché and childish but desperate times call for desperate measures. And here is where your good friend, Loki, comes in. He is the god of mischief after all, so it’d be good to have him on your team instead of an enemy.

He immediately agreed to your proposal when he heard who your first victim would be, he said something about a long-awaited vengeance but you tuned him out once he said he’d help. Both of you are currently brainstorming, trying to find the perfect prank for your target.

“We should trip him and make him stab himself” he declares proudly, puffing out his chest and the brightest of smiles gracing his face.

Your brows scrunch up, showing your disagreement. “That’s not a prank.”

“Well, I find it rather amusing.”

You make a sound similar to a snort which makes him turn his head towards you, a scowl on his face but then he notices the bag of food in your hands.

“What are you eating?”

“Food.”

He rolls his eyes but he chooses to humor you. “What kind of food?”

“Vegetables.”

At this, it’s his time to snort and you find yourself slightly surprised to hear him make such a mundane sound. “Candy corn is not a vegetable.”

“Says who?” you try to defend yourself as you keep chewing, which earns you a disgusted face from Loki.

“Uh, the alimentary pyramid.”

“He has a point” Tony butts in out of nowhere, startling you.

“Oh, screw you!” You yell and briefly think of throwing the food at him but then you decide it’s not really worth it.

After swallowing another mouthful you turn to Loki and stare at him. “No tripping and definitely no stabbing.”

He sighs and slouches down a bit, catching you off-guard for the second time today. It’s as if he's starting to behave like a human. Weird.

“Then what do you propose?” his tone sounds bored, maybe because you’re not agreeing with his ideas.

After a minute of deep thinking, your face lights up in realization making Loki look at you expectantly. In return, you smirk at him.

“I think I got it.”

*     *     *     *

“Hey, Clint!”

Said man lifts his head from his pillow when he hears his name being called. He just had lunch so he’s in a bit of a slump right now. That’s why he decides to just reply instead of standing up.

“Yeah?”

He’s met with silence, no one answers back so he goes back to his pillow. But before he can close his eyes, his name is yelled again.

“What is it!?” His tone is now exasperated and again, no one replies back. “Ugh.”

He finally stands up from his bed and starts making his way to the door. But as he tries to walk under the door frame, his face collides with clear tape, making him momentarily blind and miss the rope lying on the floor.

“What the–”

His foot ends up trapped by the rope which hauls his entire body to the wall. Then, daggers come flying towards him and stab themselves on his clothes, trapping him completely.

“You just got yourself–” Clint hears your voice speak and then being interrupted by Thor’s annoying brother. “LOKI’D!”

Loki and you high five each other and, in his rush of excitement, he wraps his arms around your middle, lifting you from the ground and spinning around, giggling.

To say you’re shocked it’s an understatement.

Five seconds later he seems to realize what he just did and he lets go of you as if you burnt him. He hears a thump and then a groan, looking down he sees you lying on the floor rubbing at your backside.

Loki feels his cheeks warming up so he clears his throat and finally decides to look up, meeting the eyes of the rest of the team.

Big mistake.

Everyone has either a smirk or their mouths wide open, clearly thinking things they shouldn’t (in Loki’s opinion).

“Someone got a bit carried away, huh?” Sam’s teasing voice is loud and clear for everyone to hear, making you want to disappear.

Loki scoffs and looks away. “I do not know what you speak of.”

He hears some snickering and Sam’s reply. “Right, play dumb.”

“You idiot!” You say, angry at Loki since you’re still hurting from the way he t. You stand up and glare at him. “You could’ve just put me down, no need to throw me to the floor!”

“Ohhh, maybe he was just getting ready to pounce on y–” Tony butts in this time and you cringe at his comment.

“I was not!” Loki yells, interrupting him and everyone laughs out loud this time.

Tony shakes his head, still smirking. “By the way, you two came up with that prank, right?”

Loki stays silent and you raise an eyebrow, which makes them interpret your silence as a yes.

“Kinky.”

That’s it. You are ready to die from embarrassment. “Oh my god, oh my god–”

“Yes?” Loki asks and you scream internally.

“Shut up!”

A few team members start leaving the room while Loki’s face remains confused and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the situation.

You hear someone clear their throat and you lift your head.

“Will you let me go now?” Clint finally speaks and you facepalm.

*     *     *     *

It has been a few days after the incident. You feel weird talking to Loki so yeah, you might have been trying to avoid him which resulted in failure, the lockdown doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon.

The team has taken it into their hands to tease you whenever you are in the same room as him. Loki acts unbothered while you only glare at them and leave as soon as you can.

It’s around five in the morning and you find yourself wide awake, unable to sleep, so you decide to head to the common room. You gaze out of the window with a cup of warm chocolate milk in your hands. The moon still shines brightly which makes it unnecessary to turn on the lights.

Suddenly, you feel a presence that makes you tense-up.

“Hey.”

Loki greets you in a soft tone as if to avoid scaring you. Or perhaps to avoid waking up anyone? Who knows.

“Hi.”

He slowly makes his way to you, gesturing to the seat across from you as if asking for permission. You nod your head and he takes the seat.

“Are you upset?” He asks with concern and a bit of hurt hidden in his tone.

“Huh?”

He chuckles lightly, his gaze falling to his lap watching his fingers play nervously. “You don’t seem very talkative to me these days.”

You feel a slight tug in your heart and you sigh, realizing you haven’t been fair to him since that day. “Sorry, they make it quite uncomfortable.”

He hums, still looking down at his lap. “I’m sorry, I should not have done that.”

A little surprised by his apology, you stare at him and try to form the right words.

“Why did you do it, then?”

Loki finally looks up but his eyes continue to avoid your form, gazing out of the window this time just like you were doing a few minutes ago. “I–I don’t know,” he paused, his voice sounding indecisive. “I guess it was a reflex?”

Nodding your head, you accept his answer although you’re not entirely sure about what he means by that.

Ever since that day, you started looking at Loki in a new light. Sure, you knew he was attractive and his ‘I’m above everyone’ attitude kind of made you attracted to him but to be so blatantly teased in front of everyone and him doing that stupid twirling thing messed up with your head. You know there’s no way a deity like him would seek companionship from a mortal, everyone knows how high his standards are which left a bittersweet feeling in your heart.

“Will you forgive me?”

Your head snaps in his direction while your heart pounds wildly in your chest. “You’re apologizing?”

He shrugs his shoulders as if it was nothing. “You said it yourself, I make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s theirs,” you try to defend him. “Besides, I shouldn’t let it affect me.”

You play with the mug in your hands and then take a sip of your drink. The sky starts tinting itself with lilac and pink tones signaling the sunrise.

“Are we good?” He asks after a minute of silence, a hopeful look in those pretty green eyes of his.

You smile and nod your head. “Of course.”

His lips tug in a broad smile and then gives your hand a squeeze before announcing he’s retiring to his room.

You nod and watch him leave, your heart fluttering and you sigh.

It’s better this way.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

help me with a reblog or comment if u enjoyed it :)

loki taglist: @slytherinsassembletofightsith / @memmucci / @servamp-addict / @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 / @theworld-is-ahead / @crescent-night​ / @godhateskyleigh / @deathofmissjackson / @lokixme / @wegingerangelica / @marshyrebelcloud

marvel taglist: @for-the-love-of-the-fandom

[adulttrio-imagines]

Yandere!Illumi x Reader Pt 1

A/N: This is going to be a 2-part series since I git a little carried away and didn’t want it to be too long. I’ll post part 2 soon. It’s also fairly dark, so please proceed with caution.

EDIT: I originally posted this answering an ask I was sent sometime back, but tumblr kept messing things up so I’m just going to re-post this

EDIT 2: Part 2 HERE

Prompt:  “I would give up everything for the chance to see your laugh again.” 

The man in the suit is beautiful. 

 He’s beautiful in a raw, delicate way that mirrors the unbridled strength his long lashes frame. It’s an uncommon beauty, unique to strange lands far beyond the clutches of York New. Some might even call him odd, with his arrogant face and brittle nose, hunched over the small booth his weak chin and long neck gave him the appearance of an overgrown crane. But as you continued to push your legs to the limit, stretching them wider and wider as you contort your back around the smooth exterior of your pole, you couldn’t help but to tear your eyes away from your adoring fans and observe his demeanor. 

This isn’t the first time he’s been to your shows, and based on the regularity he’s appeared at the past few months, you doubt it’ll be his last. He stares at you with impossibly large eyes that never blink (their starvation is pronounced, you feel their hunger even from here), lazily swirling a glass of whisky in one hand as he rests his chin in the other. You can’t see his legs from underneath the table at this distance, but from his posture you can tell they’re long and just as impossibly slender as the rest of his body. As you saunter around the stage, entertaining the roaring crowd that shower you with dollar bills, you note the silky texture of his suit (it’s expensive), the glint of his heavy-looking watch (possibly adorned with gold), and from the way he so effortlessly balances his glass in a well-manicured hand, you can tell he’s well-bred, wealthy, and sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the other noisy hooligans at the bar. 

The room spins in gaudy shades of pink and neon green as you twirl around some more, the rush of wind cooling your face. You make your way up the pole, taking extra effort to stretch your legs out and angling them just right to display the soft curves of your thigh, the heat from the room coloring your cheeks as you sneak another glance at the man. More than the money, you like the way his cheekbones arch and the pronounced slopes they produce, the way they shape his fine features when he curls his lips in pleasure and expose a set of perfectly straight teeth that makes your heart pound just a little too fast for it to be normal. 

You wink at the crowd before you, making sure to tilt of your waist just right to sneak a peak of your ass, teasingly arching your leg forward as you slowly hitched your already short skirt up just a little more, relishing in their excitement. You reward their charity with a flourish of your own, flashing your brightest smile when their thunderous cheers applaud your performance. 

Your eyes snap back at the man in the suit, who’s gaze has remained transfixed on you this whole time. He claps politely, but the amusement that your dance draws from your crowd isn’t reflected in his face as he returns your stare with an empty look of his own.

He’s beautiful yes, in a way that makes you want to twirl your fingers in his silky locks and tug then hard while you kiss into the early hours of the morning. A delicious shiver crawls its way up your spine and you blow a kiss to him. Groping hands reach out from underneath you, desperately reaching for your attention, but you keep your eyes on the strange man, who accepts your kiss with a curled fist. 

You lick your lips, unsure if the tremors you felt were from the rush of excitement, the heat of the room, the swirling pools of intent in his eyes, or a combination of all three. 

But you do know this. 

You’re making him yours.

.....

Your darling’s name is Illumi, and he doesn’t speak much.

It's not as if you aren’t trying. But he’s still as a statue and unmoving as stone, his face kept carefully blank as you dance around him like butterflies, slowly trying to coax him our his shell, whispering sweet words that drip with honey as you brush a hand against cheek (his skin is ice, and the tips of your skin freeze upon contact). He holds your eyes with his pair of dark abysses, directing your attention towards his mouth as you continue to wrap yourself around him, all but crawling into his lap, the hard wood of the booth creaking under your weight when you plant feather-soft kisses all around his face, paying special care to tease the corner of his lips as you press your hips hard against his throbbing groin.

He doesn’t return your steaming confessions, preferring to grunt one syllable answers in response to your questions, but he receives your affection with barely restraint lust, grabbing your thighs with spider-like hands as he nudges them open, letting out a low groan when you stop rubbing yourself against him and made movement to unbuckle his belt.

“Let me-“ He tells you between breathless kisses, “Let me take you home.”

You can barely contain your own pleasure as he slides a hand against the dip of your hips, struggling to nod.

“Sure.” You feel him smile, and a faint prick nicks the back of your neck.

The room goes dark.

And everything you know changes. 

......

The cellar Illumi keeps you in is better than most. There’s proper heating, a small equipped bathroom in the corner, and a warm nest of blankets for you to curl into whenever the coolness of the stone floor after a fit of misguided rage becomes too much and form sores on your delicate ankles.

There’re no windows here, so you make a game of counting the scratches on the wall, bathed in the comfort of the dark, to make time go faster, adding a collection of your own on the wall beside your bedding when the days slowly stretch into weeks, even when your nails are filed down to blunt tips and your fingers are raw and inflamed.

Sometimes the boredom of it all drives the final nail into your head and snaps your existence in half, and you would brokenly hum songs of distance past, following the buried memories of times long forgotten, dancing around the small room on delicate toes and graceful arches, so different from the bold movements you made from your stage at the bar, before the old pain from your left knee would force you crumpling to the ground and bury your screams into the blankets.

“Why won’t you eat the food I give you? Would you rather starve?” Illumi asks you calmly. You eye him warily and drop your gaze to the neatly arranged fruits that lined the plate. He visits twice a week, dressed in strange clothes dotted with circular yellow nubs of what you can only guess to be buttons, often bringing with him baskets filled with peace offerings of sweets and little trinkets, as if they will make you happy.

You nibble at a slice of apple, careful to keep your gaze on the ground as you fight down the urge to empty what little contents you had in your stomach, one part out of hunger, ninety-nine parts from the ache in your head when he slapped you into the stone wall and bashed your face into it with extra vigor for refusing to take a bite of the bread he brought down the week before.

“Good job!” And he’s empty, empty, empty. The hollowness in his joy almost scares you as much as when he leans down to pay the top of your head patronizingly, as if you were nothing more than a badly misbehaving puppy who finally learned to obey. His fingers dig into your scalp when he feels you flinch under them, and he rams you headfirst into the ground as you helplessly choke for air when he carefully applies pressure to your trachea, all but strangling you while staring down with sinking eyes that drown out everything else.

And you realize three things.

He’s neither human nor beast.

He’s a beautiful doll who carved his name into your flesh for no reason other than because he could do it.

And there’s nothing you can do to escape.

.....

“Dance for me.” Illumi demands one day during one of his many visits. You look up your cup of tea, and stare at the man sitting cross legged across from you on top of a checkered blanket, like some sort of demented underground picnic. Under the flickering light from his kerosene lamp, his skin looks especially pale, and the gaping holes that represent his eyes are especially haunting. His visits range in frequency, and you can’t tell if you like it more since his absence is peaceful, or hate it for how unpredictable he gets when he does see you.

Hesitantly, you get to your feet and walk into the center of the room where a lone pillar stands. You place a hand of it, inwardly grimacing from its roughness, and forcing your body to contort around it. But just as you start, he raises a hand and shakes his head.

“No, no, no, not that.” He says, hair shimmering like black waves out in the sea, as formless as his tone, “I want to see your other dance, the one you perform when I’m not here.” You blink, not surprised to learn that he keeps track of your movements frequently enough to see you dance on those rare occasions. Instead, you kneel down to his level and take a sip from your cup, smacking your lips loudly as you smile widely and say, “No.” He strikes you across the face, and breaks an arm for good measure. You can tell from how easily it crunches in his grasp that your nerves are destroyed, especially when it flop helpless next to you in the ground. It is the first time he inflicts permanent damage on you.. But it’s not the last. 

.....

You learn that your Illumi’s last name is Zoldyck. It’s hard to miss since it’s painted and hung high in every room he brings you in.

His change in mood is astounding and you’re cautious not too upset him. You’re unsure what flipped the switch, but suddenly your above ground for the first time in months and the sun that shines through the large French windows that span from ceiling to floor hurts your eyes, but it feels painfully good to feel the warmth of natural light grace your face.

You look wistfully out into the garden, where acres of woods stretched endlessly before your eyes, and a range of mountain lines dot the far edges of your vision. And wonder if you would even be so lucky to feel grass press against the soles of your feet again.

The Zoldyck mansion is huge, lined with riches and elegance that screams of old money, and it’s easy to lose yourself in the passage of time as you wonder aimlessly through the elaborate halls, admiring each ancient artefact that tastefully decorates each room. But even its size and grandeur pales in comparison to the aura Illumi exudes that makes you feel so insignificant and small, as if the universe itself would split and swallow you whole. You dance around the mansion, often in the dead of night on weeks where Illumi disappears into the shadows that cut unnaturally into the walls, your feet guiding you through both the lavishly decorated rooms to the empty halls. It’s easy to pretend that you were in a haunted mansion as you sang from door to door; you never see anyone else, but the continuous presence of following eyes that track each leap you take reminds you of old ghosts lurking behind corners. “Where’s your favorite part of your house?” You ask Illumi one sunny afternoon, when you’re both lounging in his sunroom and lapping up what limited time you had left with the sun before autumn arrived and brought the chill with it.

He is surprised by your question, as if no one has ever asked for his opinion in his life, and blinks impossibly slow in response. Placing a finger to his lip, he quirks his head and hums. “Hmmm. I don’t know. I don’t really care much for this house.”

And just like almost everything else he does, it’s horribly empty, and succeeds in shutting out your efforts and extension of friendship.

You return to starring listlessly at the lush gardens below, and make a mental note to ask Illumi if you could one day explore those grounds as well. There were only so many halls you could pass before turning into one of the many ghosts that haunt the mansion. 

..... 

Zeno Zoldyck is the first and only family member you ever meet. How you ran into him was mere coincidence. You’ve never left Illumi’s wing of the house. But by sheer coincidence do you run into the old patriarch on one of his rare ventures into the family library.

“It’s not easy playing chess alone. You don’t grow at all as a player if you’re only exposed to techniques you are familiar with.” He slams a pawn over your queen, ignoring the shriek of shock you return over his sudden appearance, and takes a sit across you. Despite yourself, you calm what nerves you had left and nervously prod your own pawn forward. He spares you fleeting glance and switches your rook out for his bishop.

And just like that, in the gaping hole that was Illumi Zoldyck’s home, you made a friend.

Zeno is a peculiar old man. He drinks only jasmine tea and likes it so hot it scalds the skin of his lips (you eye the scars that travel down his neck, self-inflicted and not from battle); like Illumi is gaze is piercingly empty, but unlike Illumi he can talk for hours on end and never fails to brighten your mood on days you felt as if your head was full of cotton and your eyes only saw the deaths of stars. You decide you like his straightforward ways and cheeky words, and you can only guess he likes how you’re the only person willing to entertain him in this lonely home on the most boring of days. He’s sprightly for an old geezer, and his wit tempt the corners of your lips ever so slightly.

And so you both meet once a week for a game of chess.

You’ll drink poison and burn your tongue if it meant filling up the empty spaces of time that suffocated you whole. 

“What was he like as a child?” You decide to ask one day. Zeno doesn’t take his eyes away from the board (you tried switching the pieces once, and now he knows better than to trust you). 

“Stupid. And ugly, if you ask me. Who knows what his mother ate.” He moves his king away from your bishop. 

“Like an ugly duckling.” You hum in agreement and move your knight over to his king instead. Grumbling incoherently, he retreats his king further. 

“Nothing like that. He’s was never really there,” tapping his forehead, he gives you a pitying grin, “I’m sure you understand.” You shrug in response. 

“He couldn’t have helped it.” His king narrowly misses your pawn, and you click your tongue in irritation. A comfortable silence draws on as you both analyzed the board. 

“Why do you defend him?” Zeno finally speaks after he slides his knight over to your king, and you bring your knees up to your seat, hiding the lower half of your face behind them before finally shrugging. 

“He was a child, there wasn’t much he could have done.” It’s difficult to ignore the bitter taste those words form, and you push them all away as you bring your surrounding pawn to his knight. Zeno frowns. 

“But he is now a man, and you are his prisoner.” 

You can’t help but sigh when his bishop finally corners your king, 

“I know.” 

..... 

On the nights where Illumi was home, he would occasionally demand you perform for him. Creeping hands dragging you from corner you curled into on the bed you unwillingly shared with him, not caring that the force of his careless throws injures your back further and colors your body with more bruises than you could possibly care to count.

“Why won’t you dance for me?” He demands you once again. It’s different this time though, you realize from watering eyes, choking on the cloud of poison that radiates from him, weighing you down to the floor as you feel your feet slowly turn to stone and merge with the tiles. You do not understand this sudden burst of anger (you think it’s anger; grief, rage and bitterness all swirl around you in endless clouds that it becomes very hard to differentiate one from the next) and you cannot stop yourself from begging for relief as the temperature in the room plummets to dangerously low levels.

“I can’t.” Dark circles creep dangerous close to the edges of your vision. He drives his foot further into your stomach.

“You can.” He nudges you hard, and the blood you cough out stains his foot.

“I can’t.” You want to scream in his face, and somehow he hears the resistance in your voice and digs his foot deeper.

“Why can’t you do this, for me?” He lifts you by your hair, forcing you to look right at him. “Is it because you can’t? Or is it because you won’t?” The last syllable rolls off his tongue with such harshness you never thought him possible of.

“Please,”  You plead instead, grabbing at his legs, “let me go.”

It’s only for a fraction of a second, but you see his eyes widen and the pure, unadulterated rage he spews strangles you, and it is so, so bitter that your heart stops and the world fades. He backhands you, and the stinging slap he gives hurts less than the searing pain that sets your chest aflame as holds your down and carves his name into your skin, right at where your collarbones dip and met, slowly and carefully etching something with needles he pulls seemingly out of his shirt. You put up a struggle, desperately screaming for someone, anyone to save you, but he just as easily pins you down and continues his task as if your screams were nothing (they probably weren’t).

“You are mine.” He says, after a long eternity, and your throat his hoarse and raw from all the begging. You can only stare at the name he forcefully carved into your skin with abject horror, shaking furiously, half from fear and half from grief, at how you would now be forever reminded of him.

He licks the blood off his needle, and whispers, “never forget that.”

[mrs-i-have-too-many-biases]

Bang Chan// Sun and Moon (-light)// Chapter one

Summary: Sun and Moon, different from another, but both unmissable in the world. The sun is warm, it provides daylight. It represents life, strength and growth. The moon, the brightest and largest object in our night sky. It makes the earth more livable and represents admiration, change, mystery and feelings. The sun is untouchable and unreachable, but what if his ,independent, sun(-shine) becomes his world? Tropes: Enemies to Lovers Season: Spring Pairing: Bang Chan X Reader AU: | Delinquent!Female Reader | Vice President!Bang Chan | School!AU | Non!Idol AU | Genre: Fluff/ Angst Word Count: 6,9K Warnings: Themes of bullying, Themes of Abuse, swearing, insults, Requested: Yes (Reference) A/n: For the sake of the fiction, Chan is a twat in the story, but only for imagines purposes only. We all know better than that.

Christopher bang.

Or Bang Chan for those who are close to him. A young man who has the world in his hands. That’s how every one else would describe him. Chan was seen as the definition of perfect. Came from a well and wealthy family, had multiple medallions from the swimming competitions he had won as a child. Making him very well known around town and athletic as well. At school, mister perfect a top-class student and was the pride of the school. And because of that he became vice president. The teachers loved him and so did the students, but who wouldn’t Chan’s just so loveable.

Well, jokes on you because Y/n didn’t. 

She’s was known as a delinquent, a trouble maker or a bitch which was what most girls called her. She was mysterious and people didn’t seem to like that. She owns a motor, which she got in trouble for with school, since they didn’t want to allow it, but they couldn’t find a valuable reason for that. Y/n had tattoos decorating her arms, as far as people know. Some made rumours that she had her whole body tattooed and that she covered it up with foundation to look ‘decent’. For this reason Y/n got a bucket of water dunked over her head. In in her infortune, it rained that day so everyone made it seem like she got drenched because of that and not because of the delusional students sadly attended the school. Besides the students not liking Y/n, were the teachers also not very fond of her. Her grades were average and If not that it was below it. If they could send her off school they would’ve loved to.

Y/n would usually just ignore the comments and the stares and go on minding her own business. She would hang around with her ‘clique’, which were basically these outsider-kids who didn’t really had a standard circle of friends and found comfort in one another whenever they needed each other. Y/n was glad she was part of it, but yet again, those students found her quite intimidating. So most of Y/n’s days, she would sit outside, secretly smoking a cigarette whilst drawing away. She didn’t mind at all being alone, she actually quite liked it. I mean who wouldn’t prefer quite and sunlight over annoying comments and mean stares?

Anyways, besides Chan and Y/n being so different from one another, they had one thing in comment: they couldn’t get along. They never did and they probably never will. Y/n had always found Chan a stuck-up rich kid who was arrogant with his head up his ass. Chan never understood Y/n. She was always in defence and she never wanted to be close to anyone. They have known each other since kinder garden and the teachers back then already knew that the two of you weren’t destined to be around each other.

Sadly, the universe had other plans for the two of you, since you spend most of you time with each other at school. Ending up in the same classes, going to the same school, being paired up together for projects and just in general being around each other. She found him bossy, since he was the vice president, and she didn’t liked to be bossed around. This made her not interfere into his businesses. And so far, that plan went well and the universe hadn’t screwed with that plan, yet.

Since Chan was the vice president, she, as a delinquent, faced him a lot, especially in your senior year. When she had a bad grade, she would be told to go and see Chan and look for a way to get her grades up. She got into a fight, go to Chan. She would look at someone the wrong way, go to Chan. She would be quite and minding her own business in class, go to Chan. It drove both of them crazy, but they couldn’t fight the teachers, they really wanted to, but they couldn’t. Chan because of his reputation and Y/n as well, but her reason was more the kind of ‘they already don’t like me so whatever’ kind of reason.

She would get scolded and receive a scripted ‘motivational’ speech, after a while she would just stare at something behind him and look at the birds, completely ignoring his presents. When he would be done, she would just shrug and walk past him. With a sigh and an eye roll he would pack up his stuff and leave as well, getting tired of this shit. He didn’t wanted to waste his breath on another useless speech on her, since he knew that she wouldn’t even bother to listen. He was done with her attitude, she loved messing with him every now and then though.

When he had to ‘scold’ her in public she would start straight up flirting with him and he never knew how to feel about it. “Y/n, we need to talk about your grades.” He would say. “What’s up honey.” She would joke, making every girl snap their heads towards her, so they could glare at her. “I-I, you need to get your grades up.” Chan stuttered, taken back by the comment, as he looked down to his feet. “And I need you too look up here Champ, my eyes are up here you know.” She would smirk when she saw the boy turning a shade of bright red.

The girls would huff and sulk when the teacher walked in as they were about to attack Y/n for her boldness.

Y/n like messing with Chan to see if he would snap in front of the others one day. Yes, the idea was pretty mean, but she just couldn’t stand the whole act that he was pulling up, as if he was the only person in the world without flaws. She couldn’t deny that he wasn’t attractive, he was, but she couldn’t see herself falling for a smart ass like him. He wanted to be perfect, but she happened to know that no one was perfect.

Y/n had her music blasting through her earphones as she walked through the school. Her blouse not tucked into her jeans and her bag loosely hanging off her shoulder. A poker face was spread over her face as she stared into nothing, whilst making her way to class. There were cuts and bruises covering her body, making people whisper and stare at her as she passed them. She ignored the stares and filtered out the whispers with her favourite song overpowering the irrelevant voices.

She knows what they thought.

‘She must have fought someone again.’ ‘I bet she started it.’ ‘She looks like she would.’

When she arrived to her seat, she didn’t bother to take out her earphones as she mindlessly looked out of the window, blocking everyone around her out. Sometimes, people liked to try and mess with her, to see if she would actually snap.

“You are the proof that God has a sense of humour!” One of the guys would yell. “You only chance of getting laid is to move up a chicken’s butt and wait.” Another added, receiving a roaring laughter from the other. “I’m not saying I hate you, but I would plug out your life support to charge my phone!” A girl joined the insult party as well. “You know, I would insult you, but it looks like your face is one already by itself.” A voice, from a bitch name Sooyun, yelled. The whole class started to laugh and Y/n slowly, but intimidatingly, turned her head to the group of four. Blankly staring at them as she raised an unimpressed eyebrow, before taking out her earphones as it was almost time for the class to begin, also showing them that she wasn’t listening at all to their bullshit.

“Guys, don’t waste your breath on her. You know what happens.” Chan’s voice filled the room and Y/n saw him sit next to Sooyun whilst slyly smirking. Sooyun and Chan had known each other since freshman year, both of their parents were rich. And they actually lived from across another in a different apartment complex. Sooyun was an only child and absolutely spoiled rotten by her parents. She never really talked about it. She was a so called ‘humble brag’.

‘Oh, I’m sorry I’m late, someone blocked my tesla, I couldn’t leave.’

Just dumb things like that would make Y/n roll her eyes intensely and groan internally as she wanted to throw yourself out of the school window to get away from her. Everybody knew that she was head over heals for Chan. The rumour was going around that she even randomly showed up to his place to try and ‘hang out’. Everybody knew of Sooyun’s feelings towards Chan, except the man himself. He was absolutely oblivious to the fact that she had a fat crush on him. Through the years, Chan started to bleach his hair blonde. One day suddenly, Sooyun as well arrived to school with a new blonde hairdo that matched Chan’s.

Some of the students cringed, some supported the so called ‘ship’ and others like Y/n pitied the poor girl for her desperation.

Even though, Sooyun had her own clique of popular kids, who ‘always’ got her back, and loved to insult Y/n with new found comments they had probably gotten off reddit. They knew that Y/n wasn’t afraid to throw hands. So, when Y/n shot up from her seat after the insult party, she saw the group jump in panic and shot their glances to anywhere else but towards Y/n. She then would just calmly fix her shirt and jeans and sit back down with a slight smirk, hearing the huffs coming from Sooyun’s side of the class.

‘They always bark, but they never bite.’ Y/n thought to herself as she shook her head as the class started.

Later through the class, Y/n rolled her eyes when she saw Sooyun talking with the teacher who then later shot Y/n a worried expression. She knew what was about to happen. And there she was, after class, ‘listening’ to Chan’s useless rant on how she needed to lose her attitude.

“… just leave the girl alone Y/n.” Chan sighed, knowing she hadn’t heard half of the things he had just said to her.   “Who?” “Sooyun, who else?” Chan snapped, looking at her in annoyance. “How sweet, you’re protecting your little girlfriend.” She mocked with a pout playing on her lips. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He said in defence. “You tell her that.” Y/n muttered under her breath, before hearing Chan hum in confusion. “Just stop being so fucking annoying and get some grip on yourself. Just because you think you’re cool and mysterious, doesn’t make it people like you.” Chan groans in frustration because he knew that he wouldn’t get through her.

“Whatever.” Was all she said to him as she plugged her earphone back into her ear, the music already blasting for her as she walked pass Chan to exit the room. “Just stop wasting my time!” Chan yelled after her, but she was already out of sight.

Y/n walked into the District 9 Tattoo Parlour, being greeted by Hyunjin with a bright smile.

“Hey Y/n! Here for another appointment?” Hyunjin asked before he looked up to you. When he did, he was in shock to see all the bruises and cuts on your body. He looked at her worried and she assured her that she was fine. “Did you get into a fight or something?” He asked as he slightly inspected some of the wounds. “Yeah.” She lied. “Did you kick their ass?” He asked with a slight smirk. “Of course I did.” She added to the lie as Hyunjin laughed.

“I bet you’re here for Changbin, he’s still with a client but you can go back there.” Hyunjin smiles as he goes back to work. “Thanks Jinnie! Say hi to Kkami for me!” She smiles before she disappears after a door that lead to Changbin’s corner.

He had loads of neon led lights as decoration. The vibe was kind of like the nightlife, which Changbin was all in for, especially as an underground rapper. “Hi Binnie!” She cheered after she had announced her presence. “Hello there Dumpling.” Changbin smirked as he hugged her side, giving the man who he was inking a little break. “What did I say about that name.” She whined before she took a seat on the couch in the room. “Sorry. I meant steamed bun-“ “Bin!” “You love me.” He laughed before sending her a kissy face, receiving a groan from her and a roaring laughter of the man who was still waiting for the Changbin to finish the inky artwork. “You two sound like my wife and I and we’ve been married for almost twenty years.” The man laughs, but soon was cut off by a hiss as Changbin started to carve the skin again.

The two of them heard it a lot. They acted and looked like a couple and they usually were too lazy or hadn’t had the heart to break the news to a random elderly couple that the two of them weren’t dating. They would gush over their connection and your relationship. Friends and family knew better though, like Hyunjin. Even though he would still joke about the fact that the two of them should just date, he knew that there was nothing going on between Y/n and Changbin.

The pair met for the first time when Y/n came by to set a tattoo and pierce her ears for the first time. Hyunjin was the one who introduced her to Changbin since Hyunjin worked at a different shop at the time. He loved the vibe Changbin owned and eventually decided to work alongside from him. Changbin loved that she could have some banter with him and the rest was history.

Changbin had been her best friend for years now. He wasn’t someone who judged her based on her image. He loved that she had piercings and tattoos decorating your body. He placed almost all of the on her. He knew that she had a rough childhood. Her mother running away from her and her father, leaving Y/n with an alcoholic and abusive person who dared to call himself a father. Later on Y/n found out that her mother had passed away due to her own overuse of drugs. 

The news angered her father even more and he dared to blame it all on Y/n when he deep down knew that he was the blame. Y/n was stuck with him, wanting to leave him and stop all the pain he has caused her through the years. 

Throwing empty liquor bottles to her, causing it to shatter against the wall and shoot into her skin. Sometimes he would get the closest object and try to beat her to death. Y/n never laid a hand on him, because she wanted to be better than him. He could never say that she hit back.

Changbin had told her many times to go to the police, but she would say that they wouldn’t believe her until they had actual prove. Because they found out that Y/n did kickboxing and Taekwondo and they just thought that she was another girl who wanted to mess with her parents. It was very frustrating. At home she wasn’t allowed to enjoy anything, to study or to in general grow. Her father wanted her to suffer, to rot into a pit and just die. The words and the thought hurt her deeply, but she knew it was mainly the pain and the alcohol talking for him. So, instead of ditching on him, she tried to save up money to take her father to a clinic. It was a lot of money and she didn’t wanted Changbin’s money, he kept offering, but she just couldn’t accept it.

Therefore, she worked for it. She saved up every little cent and went on with her life. She couldn’t find a normal job, so Hyunjin and Changbin were sweet enough to offer her a small job at their parlour. She was told to clean up their mess, to bring them food or whatever when they were working on a tattoo for hours and basically keep everything together. It didn’t pay a lot, but it was enough for her to safe up.

They were amazed by Y/n’s dedication and kindness. She goes through so much pain every day, just so she could provide for herself and her father. She told them, after they asked her why she just wouldn’t take the money, that she saves the money up herself, because she didn’t wanted her father to think that she wanted him gone. Yes, he hurt her deeply, but she still loves him because he’s her dad.

They found her heart and mindset inspiring and were glad that they could help out at least a little bit.

When Y/n’s situation got worse, Changbin offered her to come and stay at his place for a while. She was shocked and scared at first. Changbin really was one of the first persons to ever act kindly to her in her years of suffering.

His parents were shocked and intimidated by her appearance, which she wasn’t surprised by. They didn’t expect a delinquent-looking girl when Changbin said that a female friend of his would be staying over. Changbin also was from a wealthy family. His parent were rich, there’s no way to go around it. They lived in an apartment that was four times bigger than her dump of a place that she managed to call home. His parents were scared that Y/n would be an influence on their son. Not a good one obviously, a bad one of course.

Fortunately after a while and weeks of getting to know Y/n, they found out that Y/n was a girl with dept. She wasn’t like the other girls their son used to bring home. They were out for money, Y/n was out for safety and comfort. The more they talked with Y/n the more they fell in love with her. They loved the way Y/n talked about the things she loved like music, writing and creative things in general. It was one of the many things that she and Changbin bonded over, besides the tattoos and piercings.

Changbin was relieved that his parents were openminded enough to see past both of their images and look deeper into a person and they luckily got to know the real Y/n.

She did decide to not tell them about her father’s situation. All they knew is that she loved fighting sports and that she got her bruises from that, which wasn’t a complete lie. Changbin loved working out with her. He would tease her by calling her hundreds of different nicknames, just to mess with her. He was surprised every time of her strength and at the fact that she never used gloves for kickboxing, giving her permanent bruises on her knuckles. She would laugh about it and joke that it would scare the dumb kids off at her school.

Speaking of school, Changbin dropped out, to pursue one of his dreams, to become a tattoo artist. Y/n had a conversation with him and his parents the other day about his future. Yes, not even her own, but about her best friend’s one. His parents were worried that their son was throwing away his life.

But Y/n got her friend’s back and told his parents patiently and politely, but fierce, that their son was doing something he loved, something he was good at and he made money out of it as well. Changbin was talented and making a career out of it. It wasn’t the first dream he had intended for himself. He wanted to become a rapper, but the same goes for that. He produces music, is really good at it and is even able to perform, in exchange for money of course, every now and then. He’s trying to make it at both fields and he’s really good at it! When his parents heard the enthusiasm that came from her about their son, they saw that she was right. And Changbin still couldn’t thank you enough, but they supported his wishes and dreams from that day on.

The next day at school Chan made his way to the homeroom and was greeted by his friends, Jisung, Felix and Minho. Jisung and Minho were two sassy and sarcastic dodos who loved to insult people for fun. It sounds really mean, but it they are actually quite nice if they like you. And everyone wanted the two to like them, because if they liked you, you could be a step closer to Chan. But the ultimate way to Chan’s heart was: getting close with his best friend Felix. Chan had the biggest soft spot for his fellow Aussie and he would do anything for him. He basically guided Felix through life. Chan loved his friends unconditionally though and besides that, he had known them for ages. Their parents themselves were childhood friends. And so the four grew up together.

Besides Chan having a soft spot for Felix, he was also very close with Jisung, he was one of his producing partners. Jisung was a genius when it came to song lyrics and he was great to work with and it made him, besides Chan, the second member of the producing group 3Racha. Changbin was Chan’s last friend to complete the producing team. He was also very close with him, but since the both of them lived different lives, they didn’t get that deep bond like Chan had with Felix and Jisung.

Chan was chatting away with his friends, when he was suddenly interrupted by the presence of Y/n who just walked into the classroom. She got a new version of detention, where she had to arrive to school early, about an hour and a half earlier than the common students. It was quite the punishment since she didn’t got a lot of sleep already at home. But it wasn’t like the school cared, she ‘did this to herself’.

Chan sighed to himself as he tried to carry on with his conversation with his friends about the upcoming sport tournaments, but the loud music coming from Y/n’s earphones were distracting them.

They started to yell unnecessary comments to her as a joke, Chan laughing along with them. He watched her pull out an earphone and lower her music for a second as she yelled back. “You guys are the reason why God invented the middle finger!” Felix had to hold back his laughter as Minho and Jisung froze in shock. They as well have known Y/n for a long time, but somehow, they keep forgetting that she throw amazing insults back.

“You little-“ “Mister Lee, you better stop that or else you will be send to the principal’s office.” The teacher interrupted him, making him sit back in his seat with a huff. “And you Miss Y/l/n, you’re already in trouble, don’t make it worse for yourself.” The teacher sighed as Y/n just rolled her eyes and put her earphone back in.

Through the day, Chan was usually surrounded by admirers, who were usually just girls, and boys, who were absolutely smitten for him and wanted to become closer to this popular, rich boy. They loved throwing themselves onto him. Especially when Chan had his famous swimming tournaments and basically was half-naked in front of their eyes. There was even a time that some girls jumped into the water to ‘celebrate’ Chan’s win with him. So Y/n has heard. They would kill something or someone to get just a second or two of Chan’s attention. It was very pathetic and Y/n knew it. Hell, some just wanted him to look at them.

Sooyun was one of those girls, what a surprise, I know right?

She usually got what she wanted, since she was spoiled rotten. And she wanted Chan, that was for sure and she wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that. She thought that every girl who came close to Chan was a threat and she wouldn’t hesitate to fight them or ruin their school lives. Yet she knew not to mess with Y/n, she wasn’t afraid to throw hands and she was very glad that Sooyun was aware of that as well.

Sooyun, being a small figured girl, knew deep inside that she wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight with Y/n. Someone who has been practicing kickboxing and Taekwondo for multiple years.

Everybody thought that Sooyun and Chan would make the perfect couple together. They’re both rich, good-looking, have amazing grades and come from well families. He was an athlete and she was a dancer and/or cheerleader, no one really knew. People just loved them together, they were the ‘couple’ of the school, even though they’ve never dated. Sooyun belonged to Chan and Chan belonged to Sooyun. It was ‘supposed’ to be that way and not in any other.

For some reason, people asked Y/n if it bothered her and she would be so confused up to this day why they would ask her that. Of course it didn’t bother her, she didn’t care. She didn’t wanted t interfere with Chan’s business or with him after all, she saw him so much already since he had to scold her every time. The only time she could clearly remember where she interfered into his life was when the two of them were younger, her asking if she could borrow his bucket to build a sandcastle. The kindergarten teachers back then already knew that the two of them wouldn’t get along, unless a miracle happened.

“I swear! Her face could scare the shit out of a fucking toilet!” Some kid yells through the hall to Y/n. She didn’t bother to look at them as she inspected her locker. “Hey Y/n! That triple chin is shaping up nicely!” “Y/n! You’re so fucking lucky that mirrors can’t talk! They would just fucking laugh at you!” Another one shouted. “Just fucking leave you twat!” Y/n was getting enough of the comments and slammed her locker shut. “Every time one of you speak, I feel like one of my braincells commits suicide.” She said coolly to them. “Oh that wouldn’t be a lot then since you’re already retarded.” “I might not be perfect, but luckily I’m not you.” She said with sarcasm toning her voice and smile.

“What did you just say?” One of the girls say who Y/n aimed the comment to. “You heard me.” Before Y/n knew it, a punch was thrown to her face and she was slammed into the locker. The other kids didn’t bother to help Y/n, instead they started to cheer onto the other girl who was violently pulling Y/n’s hair whilst trying to throw punches. Y/n held on to her hands as she was still pushed against the locker, trying to hold the girl back from her face. Until the two hear a teacher screamed for the pair to stop.

The girl was ripped away from Y/n and Y/n finally felt like she found breath since the girls hands made their way to her throat in the end. “Y/n! Principal’s office! Now!” The teacher roared in frustration. Y/n sighed because she knew what was happening: she was getting the blame, as usual. And why? Because she was a delinquent.

In the end of the day, she was back with Chan in front of her. She now was pressing a cloth against her lip to stop it from bleeding as she ‘listened’ to Chan’s rant. Chan noticed her bleeding lip and wild hair. He wanted to make a comment about it, but he somehow felt guilty and decided not to. He was quite confused and taken aback by the feeling, since he usually wasn’t bothered to insult Y/n a little. “Just get your fucking shit together Y/n. This has been going on for months! I’m getting tired of your bullshit and you keep wasting my time! I could be going out with my friends for lunch right now, but no. I have to be here and ‘put you in your place’. I’m not your fucking babysitter Y/n so grow the fuck up and get yourself together for the love of God.” Chan sighed and left Y/n alone in the room.

Chan was once again shocked by himself as he made his way to the cafeteria. Usually was Y/n the one who left the room first, but she seemed to be timid and quiet this time. He tried to shake it off, because it was first of all none of his business and secondly, he didn’t care. He never did, why would he now? Chan remembered there was a time where he wanted to be friends with Y/n. They were around the age of nine, but he just never knew what she had against him. And through the years of him not being able to found out the reason, he just started to ‘hate’ her back, since it seemed to be the easiest way. She seemed so different and dangerous, she was also very held back. She had her walls up high and build strongly so no one could get through it or break them down. Chan now was focused on himself and he was glad he did, because he was fine just like that.

When Chan sat in the cafeteria with his friends he complained about Y/n wasting his time for the umpteenth time. His friends were just looking at him with a smug smirk and ended up laughing. “What?” Chan asked in confusion. “You’re so crushing on her.” Minho laughed as he took another bite of his sandwich. “What- no?” “Sure man, but you’re the one who keeps going on and on about her.” Jisung added before drinking his juice with a smirk. “I do not talk about her that much.” Chan claims in defence. “Yes you do, you mention her every day.” “That’s because she drives me mad every day!” “Whatever you say.” The two mutter before focussing their attention to their phones.

Chan shook his head in disbelief and looked away from them. His eyes landed onto a lonely figure that was outside in the spring sun. The sunlight was hitting her softly, giving her a soft glow as she scrabbled away in her notebook, her head tilt as she held her phone in between her shoulder and her head. Chan squinted his eyes and noticed that it was Y/n. He sighed slightly and took a bite rather aggressively as his frustration from earlier returned his body.

His gaze would fall back to Y/n who was suddenly throwing her body back in fort, seeming as if she was laughing loudly at something. Chan was surprised when he saw her like that, because he had never seen her smile, like ever. Chan was caught staring at her by the boys as they suddenly started to tease him once again. “Stop it.” Chan would whine at the other three. “You know, there could be a reason why she gets into trouble all the time.” Minho began. “She’s a troublemaker, it’s her thing.” Jisung scoffs with a chuckle. “Yes that too, but what if she does that all on purpose, so she can spend time with Chan?” Minho theorises. “No, that would be pathetic.” Chan argued in disbelief, not thinking that someone like Y/n would ever do something like that. “I mean, you’ve seen crazier thing Chan. It wouldn’t be too weird if she does all of this for that reason.” Minho shrugged, setting Chan to thinking.

In the meantime Y/n was sat outside. The sun was nice and warm and she had a nice spot alone in the open. She had pulled out her notebook to draw and write her lunch break away, until she thought of what she wanted to do tonight. So, she called Changbin, who picked up happily. “What’s up buttercup?” He sang on the other side of the line. “Nothing much Tat Rat. You busy tonight?” She asked him hopefully. “I am Dumpling. CB97 has called us to work tonight. We have to rehearse.” Changbin said, feeling sorry and guilty that he couldn’t spend time with her, because she probably needed him.

“Nah, it’s okay. I was just wondering.” She stuttered. “You can go and hang out with my mom you know? She’s alone tonight since my dad is gone for a business trip.” “I could do that and look at baby pictures of yours with her-“ “Don’t you fucking dare!” Changbin yelled, making her laugh loudly. “Calm down! You were cute though.” “I was cute? I’m not anymore?” He joked and she could almost hear the pout on his lips from the other side of the line. “Of course you’re the cutest Binnie!” She chuckled through the phone as she cutely cheered onto him. His laugh made her day a little better and he assured her that he would be home in time so they could spend some time together as well before she falls asleep.

She said that she would like that before they exchanged their goodbyes and hung up on the call. She sighed in relief that she could stay at Changbin’s place. She wasn’t feeling like getting beaten up twice today. She decided to go to his apartment right now, because she also didn’t feel like facing Chan or any other student again today. Therefore, fifteen minutes before the bell rung to get everyone back to class, she made her way to her locker to gather her stuff to leave. What she didn’t knew was that Chan had seen her and he, as the vice president, felt responsible to scold her once again for her behaviour. And since it was Y/n as well, he was especially done with her shit. He didn’t know what happened to himself, but something inside of him seemed to have snapped as he stomped his way to Y/n’s locker where she was standing herself.

“You’re fucking skipping again? School is for education you know? And since you’ve missed a lot of it, it just shows how retarded you are! You already go in trouble for multiple shit and you still pull out this card? You’re such a moron no wonder no teacher wants you in their class. At least I have something to look forward too. I work for my future, can’t say the same thing about you.” He snarled in anger. But soon enough a pang in his chest was felt and he was filled with guilt.

Y/n turned to him slowly, slamming her locker closed in process as she looked at him with slight watery eyes.

“You have no right to say something like that about me Christopher. You have no idea what’s going on in my life and you certainly can’t say that I’m not working on my future. I know you are mister perfect, but I didn’t know you would be so low to people below you.” She snapped back, before she swung her bag over her shoulders and pushed pass him.

This was the second time for Chan to be shocked by her. This time seeing her so vulnerable and because she used his full English name.

He watched how she rushed through the halls outside, leaving the building in process. Her serious and fallen expression were printed into his brain and he wasn’t very sure what to do with them. She usually seemed to unbothered and cold, he felt like he finally saw her as a human being and it just did something to him, he just didn’t know what and why. A part of him wanted to run after her and apologise for his harsh words. Another side, his pride, was high up in the sky and stopped him from doing so.

When Y/n had arrived at the Seo resident, she lied to his mother that she wasn’t feeling too well. She added to the lie that she had kickboxing training in the morning and that she got beaten in her face and stomach. Misses Seo would pity for her and ask her if she wanted some soup to make her feel a little better. Y/n thanked her but declined the offer and told her that she would be resting in Changbin’s room for a bit, which ended up her falling asleep in Changbin’s bed.

Hours later she woke up to the bed denting a little and a familiar sent filling her nose. “You’re back?” She muttered in a tired voice as she tried to open her eyes to look at her friend. “Yeah, I just got home. It’s eleven O’clock. Did you sleep the whole time?” He asked as he softly rubbed her back. She hummed in responds as she turned her body towards him so she could hug him. “Y/n?” “Hmm?” “Are those new wounds?” Changbin asks carefully. She managed to hum a ‘yes’ which made Changbin sigh worriedly.

“Did you at least throw hands back?” When she didn’t answer he already knew that she didn’t. “Y/n, this needs to stop.” “It’s just a few more months. Then they will be gone forever.” She whispers whilst closing her eyes again. “Besides, my older wounds aren’t healed yet.”

Changbin was besides a rapper, producer and tattoo artist also a doctor by now. The amount of times he had helped her with her wounds, cuts and bruises were uncountable.

The boy would sigh once again and lay down with her. Wrapping his arms around her carefully as he held her protectively. Y/n would usually stay in the Seo’s spare room, also known as Changbin’s older sister’s old bedroom, that wasn’t used anymore since she had already moved out. But at times like these, Changbin felt a need to hold her and protect her, since sometime she was too weak or too tired to do it herself.

The two of them fell asleep like that, that night. And since they fell asleep, Y/n forgot to set her alarm, which caused her to oversleep through her first class. She groans as she noticed how late she was and muttered a goodbye to the exhausted Changbin who eventually was left alone in bed.

Y/n hopped onto her motor and drove her way to school. As soon as she stepped foot into the building, she was greeted by the principal and lead to her office. She cursed to herself, because she knew that her punishment was going up a notch. And she was now just mentally preparing herself for it.

What could happen? Getting early at school and leaving extra late? She wouldn’t have a problem with it, since she wouldn’t have to be at home. School punishments weren’t the worst things that ever happened to her.

“Miss Y/l/n, I have been informed that you aren’t passing most of your classes.” The principal states. “I mean, I guess so.” Y/n muttered, still tired as fuck. “Do you want to receive your diploma this year, Miss Y/l/n?” She asks almost annoyed. “Yes.” “Well then you will have to pass at least three of these failing classes to receive your diploma. This will mean that you will have to be tutored and make extra assignments for extra credit if you want to get that diploma.” She said sternly.

The school wouldn’t want to kick her off, since there would be rumours going around like wildfire and it would make the school look bad. So instead, the principal had someone in mind to ‘help’ her. So she could pass her classes, get her diploma for the sake of the school.

“Who could possibly be tutoring me-“ At that moment a familiar figure walked into the office room. Chan rolled his eyes as soon as he saw her. His chest tightened a little at the sight of her. Her bloody lip had dried up and was now a shade of deep, dark red, matching the rest of her other wounds. “What did you do this time?” Chan muttered annoyed, receiving an eye roll from Y/n. “Mister Bang, I’m glad you’re here. I just told Y/n that you would be the one tutoring her!” The principal reveals cheerfully. But Chan was anything but cheerful as he stared at the adult across him.

“I’m going to what now?”

To be continued…

Gif isn’t mine.

[thisbrokenmask]

Wish

Title: Wish

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: Fluff, pining.

Warnings: None, Jimin being a sweetheart

Word Count: 2.9k

Song inspiration: Wishing on a Star

A/N: Finally got another drabble for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo Event finished! This one is for my friend @hereinyourarmsforever​ who chose Wishing on a Star & Jimin from my bingo card. It’s fluffy and sweet and I’m so glad with how it turned out. 

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as you stepped out into the garden, your flimsy jacket draped across your shoulders as you hugged your arms close to your body against the cold night air. You’d stepped out to escape the heat of the party, but now you weren’t sure if it would have been a better idea to simply throw a window open for a few minutes instead. Shivering slightly, you decided you may as well lie in the bed you’d made for yourself and at least spend a few minutes breathing in the fresh air of the garden before heading back into the hazy house, even if you only walk to the end of the garden and back. It would help sober you up a little bit, which might even lead to you staying later than you normally would, so what harm could it do, really?

The bass that had been pounding through the floor and making you feel like you might stumble ebbed away to a steady but gentle rumble as you made your way down the garden, the open toes of your heels allowing the already dewy grass to brush against your toes. It must have been past midnight, you reckoned, given the chill in the air despite it being mid-August. Normally you would be bowing out by now, but tonight you still seemed to have plenty of energy for the party behind you. 

Your eyes drifted upwards to the wide expanse of the beautifully cloudless sky above you, a few of the brightest stars still visible despite the fact that every light in the house behind you - as well as additional lights set up by Yoongi next to his station as tonight’s DJ - was glaring out into the darkness. 

There was something about the stars that had always soothed you. Maybe it was all the fairy tales your mother had read to you as bedtime stories when you were little, with girls and princesses wishing on stars to find their true loves or their fairy godmothers. Or maybe it was the part of your heart that still wished that somewhere, out there, Neverland was real. Whatever it was, you found yourself unable to look away from the few pinpricks of light you could see shining through the night above you, and that was probably why you didn’t hear anyone approaching you. 

“I thought it was you out here.” You blushed when you jumped at the quiet voice beside you, but Jimin only seemed to find it amusing, a soft chuckle escaping as a barely-withheld smile broke on his lips. Even in the dark, his eyes seemed to sparkle in a way you’d never seen on anyone else. He was exuding too many emotions at once for you to know which one to focus on; kindness, curiosity, mischief, concern, playfulness, and that ever-present undertone of flirting that never failed to make your heart stutter. Combined with his devilishly simple outfit of white tee, skinny jeans and a leather jacket, you already knew that you were in dangerous territory: this was the Jimin of your fantasies, the kind and charismatic dancer you’d steadily admired since the day you’d met him, impeccable fashion sense and manners to match.  

“H-hey,” you smiled back, internally cursing at the shiver that passed through you at the same time. You were growing tired of turning into a blushing mess around Jimin, well aware by now that your crush on him was unrequited. You’d known each other for nearly two years now, friends of friends that passed each other like ships in the night, only bumping into each other at parties and occasionally sending each other acknowledging waves around campus.

“You okay?” he asked before taking a drink from the bottle in his hand. His hand was covering the label, but you assumed it was the same beer you’d seen several packs of on the counter in the kitchen inside. 

He’d always been more than kind to you but, when more and more meetings passed without him seeming like he was interested in you, you figured it was just how he was with everyone. Taehyung had told you before he’d introduced you to him that Jimin was the epitome of kindness, so you figured you had only yourself to blame for daring to believe it could ever be anything more than that. 

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks,” you hoped your smile came off as nonchalant as you were trying to be. “You?”

“I’m good, too.” You watched his smile grow wider, admiring the way the lights behind you reflected off of his earrings and his hair, both silvers briefly tinged in various colours as they changed in time with the beat. You’d never admired Yoongi’s technical skills so much. 

Your gaze shifted to Jimin’s, only just noticing that he was watching you closely as your eyes met. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, your gaze briefly distracted by the movement. “What are you doing out here on your own?”

You knew Jimin well enough to know that he was more concerned than he was acting, the question coming off as light conversation as it hid what he was really asking; Has something happened?  

“Just needed some air, was getting a bit too warm inside.” You looked back towards the house, seeing that a few more people had spilled into the garden now but no one else had come as far as you. Except Jimin.

The man in question nodded beside you, glancing back at the building too. You noticed how he started to shift his weight from foot to foot and felt heat flood your cheeks. He’s already bored, you told yourself, turning back to the sky as you had been before. He probably thought you were someone else and now he’s regretting coming over. You tried to swallow down the embarrassment slowly taking over you as your thoughts began running away from you, hugging your jacket tighter around your shoulders. Maybe he’s drunk and was looking to score, then realised it was you.

“Stargazing?” You startled slightly at Jimin’s arm brushing against your shoulder. He was standing much closer than he had been before, his left arm almost flush against your right as he held his drink in front of him. You looked up to see him gazing up at the stars, the same as you had been doing before he’d approached you. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled back quietly, your heart racing at the mental and emotional whiplash you were suffering from. “I like the stars.” You weren’t sure what made you continue talking. Maybe it was your uncertainty over whether this was going to be a one-off conversation, the two of you never normally speaking longer than ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’, or if it was because you couldn’t be sure how drunk he was at that moment, but you felt compelled to talk to him as you had always wanted to. “My mum used to read me lots of stories about wishing on stars and dreams coming true,” you shrugged slightly, realising this was the first time you’d ever admitted this to any of your college friends. “I guess they just give me some comfort because of that.” 

You turned your gaze to the floor, suddenly embarrassed, not seeing how Jimin had turned his gaze to you and was now smiling softly.

“Have you ever done it?”

Your head snapped up at Jimin’s question, caught off guard by what you assumed was his unashamed brashness.

“Done what?” you squeaked, eyes wide.

“Wished on a star,” Jimin chuckled, delighting in how you’d not only taken his question the wrong way but then blushed profusely when you’d realised your mistake. “Have you?” His eyes were unwavering as he watched you, seemingly hanging off your every word. 

“I did, when I was younger,” you said quietly, feeling like you were caught in the pull of his dark eyes. “But I stopped when I got older.”

“Why?” Jimin was so close you could smell his cologne, a dark yet sweet blend of vanilla and teak. 

“I realised wishes don’t always come true,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you stared up at him. When his gaze flickered down to your lips and back to your eyes, you felt your mouth run dry and looked away, shifting your weight slightly to discreetly move away. You’d wanted to kiss Jimin for a long time, longed to feel his lips press against yours, but you still had enough of your wits about you to know that you didn’t want it to be when he was drunk. If he was going to kiss you, you wanted him to do it because he wanted to when he was sober. “What about you?” You pointed awkwardly up to the sky as you lifted your chin again, avoiding looking over at the man beside you and missing the way his brow furrowed with disappointment. 

The silence between you was heavy, so much so that you felt like it was sitting on your chest and making it harder for you to breathe. Jimin coughed lightly, clearing his throat, before joining you in looking upwards. 

“My grandmother used to tell me that anything I wished on a star would come true, even if I had to wait a while for it to happen.” 

“Really?” You looked up at him, knowing how childish it was to talk about wishing on stars but unable to let go of that tiny bit of hope that your wish was still possible. If you hadn’t been three or four of Hobi’s mystery cocktails deep into a party, you wouldn’t have even mentioned your mother and her stories, but right now it seemed like the most important thing in the world that someone else not only believed the same things you did but also didn’t seem to find you weird for it. You could already feel the alcohol wearing off, having put down your last cup almost an hour ago in favour of dancing instead, and you knew that if you didn’t do this now, you’d never have the confidence to speak to him like this again.

“Really,” Jimin smiled up at the sky before turning back to you. 

“What about if it’s been over a year?”

“I think it’s still possible,” Jimin smiled, turning his body to face you fully as you did the same, your crossed arms the only barrier between you. “Depends how big the wish is, I guess.”

You nodded sagely, biting your lip as you looked away briefly, as if you were discussing something tangible and measurable rather than wishes made on stars. “That makes sense,” you murmured, more to yourself but Jimin’s close proximity allowed him to hear you clearly. 

“What was it?” You tilted your head to the side as you looked back to him, confused. “Your wish?” he clarified, his breath ghosting over your lips. You swallowed the lump in your throat and ignored the pounding in your chest as you let your gaze briefly drop to his mouth, his lips parted slightly and as plush up close as you’d always imagined them to be. 

“I wished you would kiss me,” you admitted before you caught yourself, but once the words were past your lips you felt lighter somehow, the crush you’d been harbouring finally spoken out loud. Time seemed to stop around you as you watched for a reaction, expecting a teasing smile or an apologetic frown to appear at any moment, but when neither appeared you suddenly realised the weight of what you had said. “Sorry,” you said quickly, shaking your head as you turned away. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Y/n,” Jimin’s empty hand held onto your shoulder before you could turn away, his other coming to rest on your waist, the bottom of the bottle he still held pressing slightly into your hip as he turned you back towards him. “Did you really wish for that?” 

Despite the gentle way in which he asked it, his question made you feel even more childish than you had done before, your cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment as you stared at the floor. With a quick, sharp nod, you felt the beginnings of tears start to sting at your eyes. You wanted to run back into the party and melt away into the crowd or, better yet, magically teleport home and get away from one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. 

The gentle press on fingertips against your chin made you lift your head, following their direction to turn you back to look at Jimin. His dark eyes were boring into yours, burning with a sincerity you had never seen in him before, all signs of his usual playfulness having disappeared. 

“What if I told you I wished for that, too?” he whispered, his hand leaving your chin to trace your jawline up to your ear, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as his hand continued to glide against your skin and come to rest at the side of your neck. 

“You did?” 

“I did.” Your eyes searched his, confused when all you saw was genuine emotion.

“How do I know you’re not just saying this because you’re drunk?” Your fear that this wasn’t real was all too apparent, but Jimin simply smiled softly, lifting the near-empty bottle in his hand to show you the label. Alcohol free. 

“Designated driver,” he says by way of explanation, his cheeks rising up to meet his eyes as he holds back his laugh at your bewildered expression. You look into his eyes again, noting how they’re dilated and dark but undeniably focused. On you. 

“You’re not...?”

“I’m not,” he affirms, gently tossing the bottle away as he lowers his hand to your waist again, this time letting his fingers press into your body. 

“And you still want to…?�� Part of you hopes this is a dream, a runaway fantasy that can’t hurt you as much as this being a one-off would. You’re so used to the belief that this would never happen that you almost don’t want it now that it’s in front of you, too scared that he’ll give you what you’ve been hoping for and then break your heart. 

“I want to,” he says without hesitation. “In fact,” a small smile pushes at the corners of his mouth as he brushes the tip of his nose against yours. ”I’ve wanted to for a while.”

“You have?”

“Mhm,” his eyes dance across your face, taking all of you in before coming back to look into your eyes. “Can I?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to come out with how rapidly your heart is beating against your ribs, feeling more like a constant drumroll than individual beats. Jimin’s face lights up at your response and what you think is relief flashes across his eyes as the hand on your neck holds you that little bit firmer, gently coaxing you to meet him in the middle. Your eyes drift shut as you feel his nose gently nudge against yours, his mouth so close to yours that you can taste the slight bitterness of the beer sans alcohol on the tip of your tongue. 

The first feeling of his lips pressing against yours is almost enough to make your knees buckle and you’re thankful he’s already got a hold of your waist. The whimper that escapes you is involuntary but you’re too lost in your own happiness to care, your arms uncrossing and sliding under his jacket until your hands find purchase on the back of his shirt, pulling him close enough for your bodies to finally touch chest to chest.

Despite your shortness of breath, you can’t help but feel that Jimin pulls away far too soon for your liking. When you chase his lips it seems as if he feels the same way, immediately pulling you tighter against him as your lips move together. He sighs the faintest of moans against you, and you only catch it because you feel the gentle vibration against your chest. You want to run your hands through his hair, down his chest, under his shirt, down his arms, too many physical urges hitting you at the same time for you to choose one and focus on it. You tighten your grip on the material of his shirt instead, anchoring yourself before you let yourself get completely lost in the middle of Hobi’s garden. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Jimin’s question is quiet and breathy but sincere, his eyes focused on yours as he tries to project his pure intentions through them. He’s waited long enough to kiss you, but he doesn’t want to wait any longer to talk with you, to get to know you in all the ways he wished he’d been doing for the last year or so. He wants to know more about you, already enchanted by what he’d managed to glean from Taehyung before his friend insisted he had to get to know you himself. “I know a place that’s open 24/7, we can get food or something?”

You’re surprised to catch nervousness in his voice and expression, never even dreaming that the Park Jimin himself would be worried you’d ever turn him down. The thought makes you smile, so blindsided by this turn in events that you almost want to laugh. It seems like you’ve both been dancing around each other for a while, and now you’re both here, worrying it’s all a dream. 

“Food sounds good.”

[sue-bts]

of all the stars in the sky - yoonmin soulmate au 

“look up, at all those stars, they’re all soulmates who’ve gone up to the sky together.”

yoongi has heard this all before, but it sounds new when it comes from jimin’s voice.

“aren’t they so beautiful? they shine so brightly because they’re together.”

“then what are falling stars?” yoongi mumbles into jimin’s skin.

“they’re people like me. who didn’t get to meet their soulmate before passing,” jimin’s voice is soft, but it pains yoongi so much to hear the other say those words. “they’re touching down to earth the spend the night with their soulmate, like i am with you.”

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Park Jimin 

Warnings: implied character death, slight angst with happy ending 

Words: 8,607

/ AO3 LINK /

yoongi is fed up. that is usual for him though. with the day to day stresses of his job, the interactions that always linger in his mind. he at least has the sky to confide in. it has begun to welcome him with a certain degree of warmth that he hadn’t experienced most of his life, and bets not many others experience either. in instances he’d ask others if they found the kind of solace that he does when looking towards the night sky. they would hum, their gaze flicking up, scanning the stars, but they could never settle on a certain thing to focus on, they’d always look back to yoongi with a pressed expression. 

“i suppose. don’t we all?”

yoongi would nod. but he knew they didn’t see it as he did. when he looks up to the sky, as he is again tonight, he knows there is more. beyond the pulses of light from the stars, behind the dark blue distance, behind the occasional wisps of clouds that part. it calms a part of him he cannot distinguish, his face holding a pleased expression, hardly a smile, but warm like a smile. his lips have a lilt to them, his eyes try to search for where this feeling comes from, where this warmth emerges, his fingers carve into the wet grass of night. of all the stars in the sky, he is falling in love with the brightest one. 

this night is special, people in his small town were talking about it earlier in the day, and despite not usually paying attention to crowds or random chatter, he heard they were talking about the night sky, so he perked an ear to listen.

“there are going to be a lot of falling stars tonight.”

“oh, i heard! i’ll watch from my window.”

“me and the kids are going to set up a blanket and prepare food to bring with us while we watch.”

yoongi was pleased to hear this, that there would be falling stars. later, after closing up his shop, he made his way down his secret path to a clearing. it was all his own. no one knew about this small field that parted the deep forrest. it was easy to get to and yoongi often came to it to fall deeper and deeper in love. when he first found the clearing that offered him quiet after finishing his shift, he began to stargaze more frequently. on most nights he’ll bring a blanket and spread it out to sit on, and he places himself on it with a fondness in his heart. 

tonight he can hear the buzz of people far off, there are a few other partings in the woods where other people more frequently gather. yoongi feels lucky to have a private space to himself. tonight, more people gather in these partings of the woods than usual. there are families together, couples, or the few who came alone, as yoongi has come. but yoongi knows these people by themselves must have a stronger feeling of loneliness than he does. yoongi looks up to the sky, there are no clouds to block his vision, it is a clear and crisp night. 

quickly, he scans over the stars until his vision falls on his favorite one. it always flashes the brightest bursts of light than the rest and always beckons to yoongi in a way he can’t bring himself to fathom. never before has anything called to him as this star does. his mouth falls open, taking in the sight, wishing his thoughts could travel far up to the sky and the star could listen. they are silly thoughts, thoughts he’d never dare say to anyone. of love, of longing, of affection, things that aren’t commonly associated with a yoongi type of guy. but he can’t turn them off, they flood every crevice of his skull, they swarm his senses and all jumble over each other. 

“hello?”

a quiet voice whispers, interrupting his pondering. yoongi startles, his head whipping around the little clearing. no one is there, no figure perched in the shadows, not the slightest shuffle across the grass. yoongi’s heart still jumps within his chest, his eyes can’t stop fluttering across the space. 

“i’m sorry for scaring you…” the voice whispers again. it is so faint yoongi can’t distinguish if it is a different voice than his own within his head. he remains quiet, itching to stand from his blanket and make sure no one is hiding on a branch or behind the bark of a tree. even if they were, why would they bother with yoongi, a little man who only wants to gaze up at the sky?

“yoongi? your name is min yoongi right?”

yoongi’s stomach twists, maybe he’s spent a few too many hours alone, maybe he’s started to go mad. he swallows harshly, finally summoning the courage to stand up and gather his blanket, frowning at his surroundings. maybe some child from the town was dared to mess with the loner of the town, startle him to the point that he never dares go back to his favorite patch of meadow along the countryside. yoongi shakes his head, beginning to stomp off in the direction of his cottage, he never has the patience to deal with little children’s games or someone disturbing his quiet.

“wait! don’t go. please.” the voice is even fainter than before, beginning to sound like a small gust of wind between tree branches. if someone told yoongi they heard the noise as well he’d believe it to have been just the whistle between blades of grass. 

“i’ll loose my voice completely if you remain so startled. please, calm down, come back.”

the phrase drifts through yoongi, the sound is different than any thought he’s ever had, any noise anyone’s ever spoken to him. it reverberated, it twists itself within his joints and wafts across his mind. he stops in his tracks, but doesn’t dare return to his divot in the grass. a fear tinges within him. does he have a stalker now? would he return to his cottage only to see it’s been raided? he knows that he isn’t the most popular in his town, that people keep a respectful distance from him because someone so quiet must hold some kind of secret. but he also knows that he exchanges pleasant smiles with everyone he works with, that he mumbles quiet hello’s, goodbye’s and thank you’s at the farmer’s markets or when he sells bread at his bakery. still, he is an agile man, his feet can hardly dare move forward, but defiantly don’t return back. 

his gaze travels back to look up at the sky, he searches the stars for some kind of answer, some kind of explanation for the little voice that plagues all his senses. he is met with the same response as any other night, the familiar rhythm of their glowing, the flickering that never ceases. finally, his gaze falls back to look up at the brightest star, his star. it radiates a light unlike all of the rest. he knows it isn’t a planet, it isn’t that large, it is just sharply bright, it calls out to him as if a light that bright could summon a noise, as if… it had a voice.

yoongi nearly stutters on his breath, his fingers curl around the blanket he still holds within them. his mouth wants to find the right words but he can’t, he’s never been good with words, how could he even try to say the right thing in a moment as confusing as this one?

“you don’t have to speak,” the voice urges, it is stronger than the last time it spoke, but still tentative and quiet, a whisper loud enough to know it wasn’t just the brush of leaves against each other or the rustle of dry grass. 

“i can hear everything you think yoongi, you don’t have to speak.”

yoongi’s throat feels parched, his limbs feel heavy. so heavy he doesn’t dare try to drag them along to leave, he stays where he is, his eyes trying to search the star for some kind of answer. why was this happening to him, why was a voice suddenly in his head, was he really starting to go mad? was he drugged? was he really this lonely?

“yoongi… no, it’s me. where you’re looking, that’s me.”

it can’t be, that the voice answers all his rambling thoughts. that it starts to shine even brighter as his gaze is transfixed to it. its light flickers in a new way, faster, stronger. a warmth floods yoongi’s entire form, his veins feel surges of warm blood, his heart feels light and radiant, it’s like questions that had never crossed his mind are answered, things he’s never wondered, they are all crystal clear. he feels he could almost glow, the light flashes back, beckoning yoongi to, buzzing to the point it could almost make a noise. 

“do you believe me now? i’m the star, i’m jimin.”

the air is crisp, the night sky is illuminated by the star’s light. yoongi glances around, is anyone else noticing this? this surge across the night, that the tops of trees and the tips of grass become clearer, the cottage’s roofs are nearly visible from a ways off. the star… jimin… is bringing about a light that yoongi has never seen take over darkness like this before. 

“jimin?”

yoongi finally asks, the word doesn’t leave his mouth, it comes from within his head, but it is bolder than the rest of his thoughts, it stands out amongst the onslaught of his many questions and observations. when the word stands out the star flickers faster, and a stronger warmth swirls in yoongi. the feeling is profound, his body feels nearly overtaken by it. 

“yes! yes it’s me yoongi! do you understand now?”

“hardly…”

“ah, well, i think everything will make sense at some point. just have patience and don’t give up on me.”

the words grow each time the voice speaks, it isn’t a whisper anymore, it calls out to yoongi in a voice resembling anyone else’s. yoongi scans the clearing once more, the sky is brighter now, there are only a few shadows of night amongst the gatherings of trees around yoongi, and no one hides behind them. no one is the owner of the voice. 

yoongi looks to the sky once again, his heart feels like it is beating wrong, at a pace unlike anything he’s felt before. 

“what is happening?” yoongi finally asks, the words pulsing within the confines of his mind, trying desperately to understand, so that he doesn’t feel insane, that he knows that in his isolation his mind hasn’t started to play tricks on him.

“i think you’re starting to fall in love with me, that is how my voice has become stronger, it’s loud enough to reach you now.”

yoongi pauses, his fingers tightening around the blanket, his knuckles white.

“please don’t panic. i love you back. i don’t mean to scare you, i love you so much. please look up at me.”

yoongi closes his eyes, his jaw tightening, he does his best to calm down his breathing before he finally tilts his head to look up. he doesn’t usually follow orders, but for some reason he follows these. the star, brighter than the rest, is pulsing with light, faster and sharper than it has on any previous night, it radiates a light across yoongi’s skin until he feels warm. his face must be blushing from the heat. 

“i love you?” yoongi asks. he searches for anything, he searches for any answer. 

“that must be how i’ve gotten my voice back. it’s so strange to hear myself, i haven’t been able to in so long. i’ve missed my voice.”

“where did it go?” yoongi feels more confident in responding, it begins to make sense. the warmth in his body makes it make sense, enough sense to speak.

“i lost it about a year ago, i was so sad to loose it that i became the dullest star in the sky, i hardly shined at all.”

“and now you’re so bright.”

“it’s only because of you, yoongi, because i found you. and it made me shine again, i knew i could hear my voice again if only you fell in love with me too.”

yoongi’s heart feels like it could break, like it could beat until it gives out. he tries to swallow his fear, tries to understand this voice’s words, jimin’s words. but yoongi has never been a believer in much, he never feared the common ghost stories or worried that his exposed feet would be snatched by the boogyman while he slept. so his gaze turns away from the star, he tries to regain his composure so he can leave this behind and sleep it off. his feet hardly turn in their tracks before the voice speaks up again. 

“yoongi! please don’t leave yet! i can’t reach you through the walls and roof of your cottage. this is where i can speak most clearly to you.”

“why should i listen? why should i believe any of this? that i fell in love with a star? that a star could be a human?”

“i don’t know how to convince you. but i was a human. i was a boy, around your age, somewhere in my twenties. i got into an accident, everything became jumbled, i can hardly remember anything of what happened. but i ended up here, i’ve been up here for nearly a year. my name is jimin, or, my name was jimin.”

yoongi falls quiet. not only in sound that escapes his lips but as well the sound within his mind. it silences, fear and shock and confusion overtaking him. he can’t take all of this in, he isn’t able to look back up to the sky, to that star, if he does he fears he’d surely fall completely in love, past salvation. yoongi never thought of himself to be a hopeless romantic, and he doesn’t want to start thinking of himself as such. he is too stubborn to give in, and yet, his limbs are too stubborn to let himself leave. he curses his weak bones, his fragile limbs, how they never obey him. 

“how do i prove myself to you? how do i make you believe me?” the voice is once again faint, each word becomes harder to say, and weaker in execution as yoongi’s dismissal of it only increases. 

“please, just give me time. i need to go to bed, i need to think over this all. if i come back tomorrow night then you won’t have to convince me of anything.”

“and what do i do if you don’t come back?”

yoongi wants to run away, he doesn’t want to answer hypotheticals, he’s never tolerated them because they confuse him. they make him feel guilty and weak. he doesn’t want to be weak, he doesn’t want to leave this star waiting for him, and yet, he can’t wrap his mind around any of it. he’s always been a stubborn man who grew up in a stubborn town of farmers and bakers and people who never dared ask any questions. so yoongi has never been fond of asking his own. 

he leaves it at that.

“just. wait for me, i need to sleep.”

yoongi finally finds the courage to move his limbs, the voice tries to call out to him within the confines of his own mind but it’s hardly syllables and never manages to become real words. they are a hum of faint sounds until they completely fade out as yoongi keeps walking away. through the thicket of trees and bushes, down his little secret path, he makes it to the edge of his town and the path continues to lead him back to his house. there is no semblance that the voice ever existed, ever penetrated into the corners of his brain. 

and he wants to dismiss it at that, that he had become too sleep deprived that the wind started to play tricks on him. he wants his blanket to warm his body as the night sky had, and he’ll be able to be content with that, and never need to return to that clearing of grass where that little voice had spoken to him. 

but it isn’t that simple. his thoughts are stuck in the divot of grass where he’s always sat, his heart tugs in his chest to return to it, to break past his reserves and preconceived notions of reality and believe in the voice, believe in that bright star named jimin. 

when he settles into a wakeful sleep, the voice echoes in his dreams, it repeats the words it had spoken in the clearing, it calls out to yoongi, the voice so soft when saying yoongi’s name, it’s a sweet and tiny voice that curls when saying yoongi’s name. and then yoongi’s own thoughts repeat the star’s own name, jimin jimin jimin. over and over again. yoongi rolls over in his sleep, he begs the voice to leave him be, to drop it, to forget it. but it never relents. the sweet voice, of high pitch and the syllables coming out as if singing a pretty song. 

yoongi hardly has a pleasant rest, when he wakes up his bones ache and his mind swims with a headache. the day is hardly brighter than when the bright star had lit up the night. his window leaks in sun, but the sun’s warmth doesn’t compete with the star’s. nothing is the same through yoongi’s eyes anymore, his mouth wants to trace the word jimin through his teeth, he wants to say the name out loud, it runs through his mind, spiraling past his control. 

`

“what a disappointment,” a lady says to him as she waits for her loaf at yoongi’s counter. yoongi hums a response, the gesture implying her to continue, as he writes out her receipt. 

“there were hardly any shooting stars last night, everyone said there’d be more,” she says. yoongi’s eyes glance up to her, scanning her face before retuning to writing out how much she owes him to the small sheet of paper.

a man has been listening to the conversation and chimes in, “yesterday’s prediction was off, it’s supposed to be tonight that they fall.”

the woman’s face perks up, “ah, well, i’ll bring the family out again to watch it.”

yoongi hands her her loaf and the receipt and she fishes through her pocket to give yoongi the proper amount of coins in return. he smiles a thank you as he receives them, slipping them into the register. 

“will you come out tonight to watch?” the women probes further before leaving with her bread. yoongi is watched by the two, their eyes taking in his expression. he pauses, trying to find words.

“he never says much, don’t be offended if he doesn’t answer,” the man says, with a reassuring smile. 

yoongi gives him a small smile in return, “i’ll probably go out and watch,” he finally says, his voice a rough mumble. 

“great! i’ll look out for you.”

she finally leaves, what a relief, he can go back to checking on how his other loaves are rising in the oven. keeping himself busy doesn’t rid his thoughts of jimin though, the bright star, that’s voice had called out to him… and he wants to beat himself up for not understanding. he still really doesn’t understand it, not much of any of it, but his heart aches in a way he’s never been pained by before. and his mind can’t stop spiraling back to jimin. he doesn’t care if he doesn’t understand, he just wants to go back to his hidden spot, in his secluded section of grass, and find that voice again, to hear it’s soft tone, to hear it say his name. 

yoongi, yoongi yoongi. he craves to hear the words, a craving stronger than any bout of hunger that’s made him crave the taste of food.

`

the sky finally begins to fade, the hues of sky blue turning to tinges of orange and purple as the sun finally begins to set. yoongi watches from his bakery window, finishing up his last loaves and packaging them up for final pickups. people cycle in and out of his shop, exchanging pleasantries when they receive their bread, but their voices never completely reach yoongi. he is somewhere else, transfixed on watching twilight slowly form. the stars become visible, only a scatter across the sky at first, but slowly they take over. 

yoongi locks up his shop as quickly as he can when the last customer shuffles out the front door. yoongi doesn’t even bother to stop by his house before seeking out his hidden path. he’s memorized the different curves and bumps to it, he doesn’t need to look where his feet land as he scurries across the distance, his eyes are instead transfixed on finding the brightest star of the sky. it is harder than other nights, it’s not where it usually is, when he does notice one that is a little brighter than the rest, he realizes that it must be his star.

he settles into his cleared out patch of grass, he tries to seek out the warmth that usually floods his body when transfixed on the sky. only the slightest tinge of heat grows within him, he can’t tell if its from shuffling so quickly over to the clearing that he’s warm from exercise, or if its the familiar warmth of the star. 

“jimin? is that you? you’re hardly brighter than the rest…” yoongi finally says, managing to push aside all his previous reserves, his fears, trying his best to believe in all of this, believe in the star that hardly shines. 

there’s a long pause of silence, not even a wind picks up, it’s a particularly quiet night besides the mumbles from other families that have gathered once again for the falling stars.

“… yoongi? you came back…?”

yoongi’s heart soars, much stronger than anything he’s felt before, he sways with the motion, the familiar warmth suddenly floods his senses, overtaking him. 

“didn’t i say i’d come back? i like to keep my promises.”

“i wasn’t sure, i was scared you didn’t believe me,” the voice increases in strength, yoongi can clearly hear how this specific voice forms its words, the tone at which they speak. it is a beautiful tone, every syllable comes out like a hum, like the beginning to a melody. 

“i don’t know what i believe right now, i have no clue what you are, how you speak to me, but i know i feel the warmth you give off, i feel it when it coils in my stomach, and i guess i can believe in that.”

the star’s light flickers, brighter and brighter, until it once again floods the night and illuminates yoongi’s soft skin. he stares up at it, trying to find an answer within the silence, trying to seek out why he feels this way for the sky, for a star of all things. 

“i know it’s hard to take in,” the voice laughs, “it’s still hard for me to understand, but i know enough i can try to explain it if you’d like me to.”

the voice is so sweet, it is of such a soft pitch, yoongi can hardly resist it any longer, he can’t force himself to not believe in it, he can’t bring himself to stand up and leave. 

“ok, you can tell me,” yoongi finally answers. the star twinkles again, a faster and sharper light than any kind of star yoongi has seen before. 

“i’m your soulmate, but i got into an accident. when one dies before meeting their soulmate they’re sent up to the sky and become a star. i spent months looking everywhere trying to find you, and i finally did, a few months back. you give off a small light, it was hard to find it, but when you found this clearing of grass and started to come to it to look up at the sky, your brightness became brighter and brighter, much brighter amongst the rest. you shine like i do, like a star on earth.”

yoongi’s breath hitches, he can hardly keep breathing, but his mind is quiet, waiting for the star to continue. clearing out any ramblings of his mind to give every opportunity for the star’s voice to be clearer and stronger within him.

“but i wasn’t able to speak until you began to fall in love with me, you fell in love with the sky and you returned my warmth, you let me shine brighter and brighter each day. and i was finally able to find my voice yesterday when you completely fell in love.”

“i fell in love?”

“i think so. i hope so. how else would i have gained my voice back? i think that’s how it works, a star’s voice returns to them when their soulmate falls in love with them.”

yoongi feels his heart stutter, his fingers curl around the blades of grass around him, he tries to grab onto reality, some shred of what it’s like to feel something real against his touch, something he can grasp.

“will i ever get to see you?”

there is a moment of hesitation, the brightness fading for a split second, and yoongi’s heart jumps in fear that the voice wouldn’t return to him again. up until this moment he hadn’t really longed for the star, didn’t feel a serge of pain when the voice wasn’t speaking up. sure, he had drove himself into a tizzy in pondering over the idea of jimin, the idea of the other’s voice within his mind. but he hadn’t missed it, he had puzzled over it. now, as his question lingers in the air, his words left echoing within his head, and the star’s response delays, he realizes how much he craves the star’s little voice. the way the star’s voice is kind, and its pitch is so innocent. 

“…yoongi.”

it’s tearing him apart, yoongi is too weak for this, too easily pained by another’s attention that it destroys him.

“yes?”

“i could come down… and i could meet you there. but if i do, i’ll only have a few hours before the sun rises. and when it would, i’d have to go back, and i’d never be able to travel back to earth again.”

“will you not be a star anymore?”

“i will, i’ll still be able to watch over you as a star.”

yoongi wants to cry. he’d always known that others had found their soulmates, he knew it was real and never speculated it, but he always figured he’d live his life alone and probably never find his. he never put in the effort to meet people, to exchange pleasantries and find out if they were ‘the one.’ and now that he’s found his soulmate, and his soulmate is stuck up in the sky, he realizes how foolish he’d been. why had he so easily accepted his fate before? why had he been so okay to live alone the rest of his life? the thought of it now, of going back to his empty house filled with silence, never to be filled with his soulmate’s sweet voice, it irks him, it makes his stomach drop at the thought. he wants to pound his fists into the rough ground until he bleeds at the knuckles, he wants to curse the solar system, he wants to curse his pessimistic mind. even if he’s never met jimin before, he mourns the other’s death, he mourns how he’d never thought to really care, how he never bothered to seek the other out. how close had jimin been? how many times had their paths crossed? he never paid notice, how had he been so crue? all while his soulmate could only silently watch from above and hope he’d one day find this patch of clearing, and one day fall in love with the sky. yoongi’s stomach feels sick. how could he have been so blind to love? so dismissive of the idea that he too had a soulmate out there, as everyone else does, and he ignored it just because he was scared. 

“stop. yoongi, please stop. don’t think those things of yourself, i forgive you, i was never mad at you.”

“how could you not be mad at me? my thoughts were cruel and insensitive to you. i never thought i’d find my soulmate, meanwhile you heard me think those things the entire time.”

“how could you have known? my shine was so weak you could hardly distinguish me even if you looked to exactly where i was, if you had your eyes squinted directly at me i was still dim.”

yoongi wants to collapse, to let the grass grow up around his body and slowly hide him from the world. he feels a tear form in his eye and he blinks it away before letting it slip down his cheek. 

“i could’ve found you earlier, i could have found this clearing earlier and spent more time looking up instead of down. for fucks sake! i could’ve tried to find you before you went up there in the first place! before you became a fucking star up in space!”

“stop yoongi. you’ve found me now, you’ve given me back my voice. you don’t owe me anything, i was never mad at you.”

yoongi bites his lip, trying his best to fight back the onslaught of his tears but as they swell within him he’s no match. they begin to fall from his eyes quickly as his body shakes with the force. they make his cheeks wet and he does his best to wipe them away but it’s no use, there are too many too fast to keep track of. 

“yoongi, your light is fading, stop crying, please, it’s okay.”

but yoongi can’t help himself, he can’t keep it back. the tears are rough and shake him to his core. when was the last time he cried? it must have more than a year ago. he usually does his best at keeping them in, remaining strong and impervious to the common sadness of day to day life. but now it all emerges from him, heavy and painful and unforgiving. 

suddenly a burst of noise erupts, the family a ways down through the weave of forrest at the other side of the field, they shout and woo as they watch a falling star. the star trails across the sky, bright, fast, but yoongi can hardly watch it as his tears blind his vision. everything blurs and he shuts his eyes, it’s all too much at once. finally the crowd quiets, the star must’ve gone out of few from them, blocked by the thick horizon of forrest. yoongi doesn’t bother to watch, his sobs continue and his skin feels cold from the tears. 

a finger brushes across his face, swiping away a droplet. yoongi at first thinks it’s a warm wind that’s gone through the clearing. but then there’s a second touch on his skin. he gulps, his eyes slowly fluttering open. and at first all he can see is a bright light, it’s hard to process and he blinks a few more times, trying to clear the haze of tears from blocking his vision. it’s still bright, like waking up from a dream and your eyes can’t process the harsh daylight yet. 

“yoongi.”

it’s the voice. the voice of an angel. of his soulmate. but it’s much closer to him now, much clearer, it doesn’t come from the haze within his mind like a faint thought. it’s next to his ear, and a breath follows it. he can feel the breath brush across his skin, brush through his hair, it’s warm, it smells of flowers. 

“yoongi,” the voice repeats, “it’s me.”

yoongi’s eyes are still weak but he manages to pry them open once again. his tears lull, stopping from their assault on his sensitive eyes. the light is still there, but it’s less bright, it’s less harsh. had his eyes adjusted? or had the light faded? finally he can make out a figure that sits close to him, the outline of a face, the outline of a body that hunches as it studies yoongi’s face. yoongi doesn’t want to believe it, the boy that sits beside him, he doesn’t want this to be real. 

“you… you came down?”

“yes,” the boy answers. his skin is bright, as if a ball of light is within him and bursting out each of his pores. his entire essence glows, his hair nearly floating with the light, his body moving softly as if still floating in the sky. 

“you used your one trip to earth…”

“i couldn’t stop myself. i’ve never seen you cry before. i couldn’t take just watching, you couldn’t hear my calls to you through your tears. you became so sad your light began to fade, and i slowly lost my voice.”

“why did you do this? i can’t forgive myself for this…”

“stop. i wanted to. you’re my soulmate. i couldn’t let myself just sit there and watch you cry.”

yoongi’s body feels sore all over, he feels like at any moment his heart could stop beating or his limbs could give out on holding his body up. 

“jimin?”

the name makes sense now. before it had been hard, to put a name to a star while a star is so far away only a bright light. it hadn’t made sense. but now his soulmate sits beside him, his skin like an orb of light, his presence already filling yoongi with a stronger warmth than he’s ever felt before. before the warmth that had overtaken his form had come down from the sky, it had felt like a distant touch, a heat from a fire a ways off. but now the heat coils into his every nerve, every fiber of his being, until he feels like he could levitate, like he could sore through the night sky like an ember still pulsing from a flame. 

“yes, it’s me.”

yoongi can’t help himself. he reaches out and pulls jimin into a tight embrace. it feels so new, so strange, so unfamiliar and yet so welcomed. the other’s body is soft and malleable to him, quickly giving in to the embrace and grabbing at yoongi’s clothing as tightly as he can manage. 

“i’m not very strong,” jimin whispers into the crook of yoongi’s neck. his breath pulses against yoongi’s skin. “i’m mostly made of light, i’m hardly like i used to be.”

“it’s okay. i won’t hold you too tightly.”

jimin presses a soft, brief kiss to yoongi’s neck, his lips are so soft they hardly feel like much of anything, but the touch still sets yoongi alight. 

“i just can’t believe this… you didn’t use your last trip to earth to visit your friends, your parents?” yoongi asks, desperation in his voice, his grip on jimin becoming tighter as they hug. 

jimin pulls away, his own cheeks now wet from a few tears. yoongi hadn’t even noticed the other had begun to cry and he uses his shirt’s sleeve to wipe at jimin’s glowing skin.

“my parents died in the accident. you’re all i have left, yoongi. you’re plenty worth my trip.”

yoongi wants to fold into himself, he wants to curse the sky that he ever thought something negative, that he ever took anything for granted, that he ever plagued jimin’s mind with his pointless little mumblings. he can only reach out to jimin and hold him as his apology, his fingers digging into the soft white fabric that’s draped around jimin’s form. this all hurts him too much, to see his soulmate in pain, to see how his soulmate is barely made of skin or cloth, mostly resembling a shining light that’s hardly tangible for his fingers to grab. 

“jimin, i—”

“don’t yoongi. i’m just grateful i can hold you this once. it’s enough for me. i’ve missed the feeling of holding someone.”

yoongi’s tears swell in his eyes again and he can’t help but burst. 

“shh, shh, please calm down yoongi.”

“you shouldn’t be the one comforting me! me of all people. i should be comforting you.”

jimin’s face is still stained from the tears that trailed down his face, but his eyes are forgiving, they’re kind and gentle and they take in yoongi with a familiarity that makes yoongi’s heart cave in. 

“come here, lay down with me.” 

jimin’s embrace is warm, it burns past clothing between them, it makes yoongi feel like cold has never touched him, like rainwater has never soaked him. all he’s ever known is this warmth that all of a sudden covers him. this must be what a soulmate’s touch feels like, this must be why everyone’s parents are always so happy together. why couples stargaze together. yoongi lets jimin pull him down into the grass. their bodies are a tangle as they look up to the sky. yoongi’s crying slowly hushes until it’s completely gone, jimin cooing sweet nothings into his ear. 

“look up, at all those stars, they’re all soulmates who’ve gone up to the sky together.”

yoongi wants to cry more but he lets himself calm down within jimin’s hold. jimin’s voice is too soft to drown out with crying. yoongi has heard this all before, but it sounds new when it comes from jimin’s voice. 

“aren’t they so beautiful? they shine so brightly because they’re together.”

“then what are falling stars?” yoongi mumbles into jimin’s skin.

“they’re people like me. who didn’t get to meet their soulmate before passing,” jimin’s voice is soft, but it pains yoongi so much to hear the other say those words. “they’re touching down to earth the spend the night with their soulmate, like i am with you.” 

yoongi just pulls jimin tighter, trying to memorize the feeling of the boy, the way the other fits against his frame so perfectly. he feels himself become tired in the late hours of night, his eyes overused and his body giving in to its tiredness as it relaxes.

“do you want to know what i used to do on earth?” jimin asks into the silence. yoongi hums his answer. 

“i used to sing yoongi. i used to sing all the time.”

“you did?”

“that’s why i was so dim when i lost my voice. i couldn’t even sing to myself anymore when i was sad and so alone up there.”

yoongi brushes his fingers through jimin’s hair, he lets jimin’s head relax on his shoulder. 

“you can sing now, if you want to, i’d like to hear.”

jimin wants to cry again. but he takes in a deep breath, and lets out a faint hum, a melody forming from his lips. it’s a song yoongi has never heard before, but he enjoys it, maybe not for specifically the melody—though it is a pleasant one—but mostly to hear jimin’s voice. it’s light in its pitch, gentle but able to reach high notes without hesitation. the noise fades into the night, from his soulmate’s lips to the sky above. 

jimin kisses yoongi’s cheek when he finishes the song, he feels how yoongi becomes more and more relaxed.

“i’ve missed that so much.”

“what song was that?”

jimin laughs, “i wrote it. a long time ago. but i never dared forget it.”

“it was beautiful.”

yoongi drifts into sleep. this is the first time in nearly a year that jimin has slept during the night, he’s missed how nice it is to close his eyes while it’s dark out, while everything is much quieter. he doesn’t fight his tiredness as he was kept awake all day worrying if yoongi would return to him. so sleep comes about easily and quickly. their breathing is slow and mingles together, it’s a soft melody that’s always belonged. 

`

the first hint of light is what awakes jimin. his eyes flutter open and he instantly flinches as the sun threatens to peek from the horizon. the jolt of his body awakes yoongi as well, and yoongi at first doesn’t realize what’s going on as he’s used to awaking with the warmth of sun greeting his bleary mind. but jimin’s stiffness in fear alerts yoongi and he slowly turns his head to see the sun begin to rise. 

“shit.”

jimin pulls yoongi up, his fingers desperately grabbing at yoongi’s hair, his skin, his clothes. yoongi wants to cry again but he’s ran out of tears. jimin’s fingers grab him and pull him close, their bodies locking together. 

“i don’t want to go, not yet,” jimin whispers, his voice breaking. his voice is still so faint, and it becomes fainter as they’re both filled with fear, jimin’s light begins to fade. 

“don’t. please don’t go.”

but there’s no use, a tug pulls at jimin’s body, his feet slightly raising from the ground before being set back down. 

“what’s happening to me?” jimin nearly whales, his face contorted with his fear and sadness. he reaches out to hold yoongi’s hands, to memorize yoongi’s face so up close, the details of the other, the way his lips are thin and soft, and he realizes he never kissed them. 

“i don’t want you to go,” yoongi says again, he wants to repeat the words over and over as it becomes his internal mantra. but as the words escape him, he feels like his voice is stifled, feeling if he dared speak his throat would crack in its dryness. he tries to wrap his entire body around jimin’s but the force that tugs at his soulmate is too strong, it tugs at jimin, pulling him higher into the air and once again dropping him and he collapses into the grass. yoongi cradles the other, trying his best to break the fall but knowing his weak lips don’t offer much support. his tears prick at his eyes but they’re too dry too many at once to fall. 

“i have to,” jimin finally gives in, his words sad but knowing. he’s tugged once more by the cloth that’s draped around him, it’s a light, airy material that his glowing limbs are entangled within. 

he’s dropped yet again, into yoongi’s hold. yoongi’s heart feels like it might break, he can’t keep this up, watching jimin get pulled upwards and then thrown back down to earth. he wishes he was strong enough to hold him, to keep him here, to not let his body he thrown about so carelessly. 

“i can’t go on without seeing you, it’s not enough, i need you.”

“i can’t let that happen,” jimin says, his voice is strained. 

“you said your voice becomes stronger if i love you. i love you so much, why isn’t your voice soaring?”

jimin hides his face, his small body curling in on itself, hiding from yoongi’s gaze, he’s crumpled into the grass. 

“there’s a lot i haven’t told you.”

“jimin, tell me now, before you go, please.”

jimin wants to speak but his voice aches and can hardly manage a syllable. “once, you, go, to, earth, you, lose, your, voice, forever.”

yoongi wants to sob, he would if he had more time, if this moment wasn’t so short, he’d sob for hours if he didn’t have just these last fleeting seconds to speak to jimin. 

“why did you lie? when you go back to the stars you’ll be able to watch me and hear my thoughts but i can’t even speak to you at night? i can’t see you or even hear you? no matter how much i love you?” 

yoongi tries not to sound mad but his entire being feels betrayed, his stomach is sick. jimin hovers into the air again and collapses back into yoongi’s grasp. 

“i didn’t want to hurt you, i wanted to be with you and not have you mad at me for coming to earth,” it takes every muscle in jimin’s weak form to manage the words. they’re slow and hardly sound like him, gravely and strained and hardly breaking past a whisper. yoongi can see how much it pains jimin to get the words out, how his throat must be bleeding. 

“is there any other way? can i come with you?”

jimin halts, his hesitation is just long enough to give yoongi an inkling that he’s hiding even more from him. yoongi’s face breaks into a contorted expression, that of a deep desperation. his fingers grab onto jimin’s clothing, he tries to scan the other’s expression for any more information. without another pause, he leans forward and lightly kisses jimin. his lips are hardly there, but they’re warm, and meet yoongi’s kiss softly. it’s too brief, it’s not enough, but yoongi has to pull away. They linger close to each other, their eyes both trying to take in the other’s. 

“tell me jimin, please.”

just then jimin is pulled the farthest yet, the sun begins to rise faster than yoongi has ever seen a sun rise before. the light starts to flood over their skin and heat up the morning air. jimin cries out in a choked voice as he hovers taller than the trees, and then quickly gravity takes effect and he falls into a roll. yoongi quickly holds him, scattering kisses across his cheeks and ears and neck and collarbones. it’s frantic, to make up for all the words he wants to say to ease jimin’s pain.

“tell me,” he repeats quietly against the others skin before pulling his lips away. and finally jimin is weak enough to give in to the other’s request. 

“you can choose to come with me, right now, but only now. the tug can take you with me to become stars together, but if you don’t come you’ll only become a star once you die.”

jimin wants to cry, but he’s too weak even for that. yoongi is silent for a moment before he begins furiously nodding. 

“i’ll go with you.”

“don’t say that yoongi! you can stay here, with your bakery, with your people, sleep in your bed every night, find another love. you can marry, you can have children, and i’ll wait for you and you can join me up there someday.”

yoongi shakes his head, he doesn’t give himself a moment to think because he doesn’t need it. their moments are limited, and he already knows his answer. 

“i’m coming with you.”

“yoongi—”

“i don’t like the townspeople, i don’t like my damp house that’s covered with mold. i don’t need to have children with some wife i marry. and most importantly, i wouldn’t be able to live each day knowing i took away your voice, knowing that you couldn’t sing.”

jimin stutters trying to find a noise to escape his mouth but he’s not able to speak anymore. he tries but all that comes out is a faint grown from the back of his throat. his skin seems to dematerialize, to break apart until there’s only light left, only a bright light that begins to hover and float away, slowly but surely. 

“let me come with you!” yoongi calls up, his hand outstretching. he’s able to grab onto jimin’s hand, what’s left of his hand anyway, and he feels his body begin to hover as the other pull him up. the unity of their hands lets jimin’s voice speak within the walls of yoongi’s mind, like the night that feels so long ago when yoongi first heard jimin’s voice echo. 

“do you really want this? you only have a few seconds to let go…”

yoongi doesn’t need to speak out loud, he thinks the words that are meant for jimin more prominently than the rest of his thoughts, he knows jimin can understand them.

“i want this, us, i know now that you’re all i’ve ever needed. i know this is what i want.”

he can feel jimin’s heart sore in response, their unity connects the feeling to him, a heat returning to his body that surges. he knows jimin is smiling, somewhere past that bright light, he can see jimin’s eyes turn to crescents. 

they begin to raise into the sky. the feeling is exhilarating and yoongi isn’t scared. this is probably the least scared he’s ever been of anything. he isn’t scared as his own skin turns into pure light, as his hand that holds onto jimin’s becomes melded in their unity. his clothes fall to the ground, all that’s left of him is the energy that pours from within his frame, illuminating the early morning. 

as yoongi is raised farther into the sky, he can look over his town for the first time from this high of a height. he can see the tops of the shops, of his bakery, of his house, and further on the other little houses with people emerging to prepare their breakfast, or scuttle off to work or school. parents hold their children’s hands, they walk over the little winding paths within the town’s walls. it’s a sight that makes him nostalgic, but he can’t help the joy that floods his heart. in jimin’s hold, as they become no resemblance of human form but rather sparkling and flickering light, yoongi knows this is what he’s always really wanted. to hold his soulmate’s hand, to feel the warmth as their fingers entangle to become one, they hardly need words any longer, but yoongi doesn’t mind when jimin speaks, because it’s the prettiest voice he’s ever heard. 

“it looks a lot more beautiful to me when there’s someone to share the view with,” jimin mumbles within yoongi’s head. his voice is so sweet, it’s so gentle, it has become calm as he gives in to being part of the sky once again. 

the journey up to the sky takes most of the day, when they finally break through the atmosphere and mingle in space it turns to night across yoongi’s town. it’s a faint light from candles that he can see the outline of his town’s buildings and the people bustling home from work and the flames of fires heating their hands. yoongi and jimin’s hands are locked together across the distance of space, the darkness that surrounds them is illuminated by the light that they give off. yoongi looks around to see all of the others, all the other couples who shine together, the semblance of their hands outstretched to hold on to each other. 

`

“has anyone seen yoongi?” a townsperson asks as they stand outside his locked up shop, no light emanating from within the building amongst the dim of twilight.

“must’ve up and left town,” another says. “there’s a new bakery that opened up just down the road, we could see if they’re still open.”

“ah, yes, i suppose. it’s a shame though, he was the best baker in town.”

as they turn away from his shop they don’t glance up to the sky that fades into night. they don’t see the two brightest stars in the sky, already shining amidst the last remnants of sunset. the two people seek out the other bakery, walking farther without a glance upwards, they don’t see the two stars connected with a string of light, that flicker in rhythm with each other as jimin sings across all of space. 

`

[lostinyourparadise98]

Let You Go

a/n: I hope you all enjoy! please like and share this one is kind of long (:

“You know I will always support you but I cannot let you do this.”

I roll down the sleeves of my sweater letting the fabric swipe away the tears that pool from my eyes. Ive told myself over and over again to never let it get to this point. To never let anyone see how much I love him but its too late.

“I can't do this Brooke, its too hard.” My voice comes out as a whisper as Brooke sits beside me on the cold bathroom tile. She rests her head against the wall grabbing my hand in hers and sighing deeply.

“The wedding is tomorrow pet, you cannot just bail he is your best friend.”

Ive spent most of my life convincing myself that one day I would build up the courage to tell him the truth. That one day he would see me across the room, look into my eyes and that would be it. He would smile while walking over to me  and kiss me till the world melted away. Sometimes life doesn't work out that way. So, here I am sitting on my bathroom floor with my roommate the day before the love of my life gets married, fighting with what I want to do and with what I know I have too.

“I cant even say his name without crying Brooke ” I rest my head on her shoulder.

“Im going to be honest with you okay? This i going to be the hardest thing you will ever have to do but I promise you, when you look back you won't regret it. You can't just disappear you have to take tomorrow as an opportunity to receive closure. To, to-”

“Let him go?” I finish her sentence

“Yes lovely, its time to let him go.”

The next morning

The sun shines bright today as I stand in front of the mirror. I  run my hands along the side of my dress making sure everything is in place. The peach colored fabric runs a couple of inches above my feet. I don't normally wear backless but Brooke talked me into it. My hair is neatly curled falling just below my shoulders.

“Y/n! Gemma is here.” Brooke calls for me.

Taking one last look at myself I head downstairs following Brooke and Gammas laughter in the kitchen. My eyes land on Gemma she looks absolutely stunning she is practically glowing.

“Y/n look at you, oh my goodness you look amazing.” She pulls me in for a hug 

“You look incredible Gem.”

“Thank you sweets. Well what do you say are you ready to go?”

no no no no no no

“Yes all set!” 

“Have a good time you two. You both look beautiful ill pick you up later Y/N.” Brooke walks us to the door

We make our way to Gammas car. I have to continuously remind myself to breathe. I need to get it together.

“Hey wait.” Gemma lightly grabs my hand 

“whats up did you forget something?” I ask 

“Are you okay?” Her eyes are filled with compassion and love 

“Of course I'm okay why would you-”

“Y/n you're my brothers best friend I have known you my entire life you don't have to pretend around me.” Holy shit she knows 

“What are you talking about?” Please don't make me talk about this 

“y/n, don't play with me I see you. Its the way you look at him, hell even in the way you say his name. You love him.”

“Please Gemma I can't”

“I know my love, I know. I am so sorry y/n you have no idea how much I am hurting for you, I promise you I will be here for you okay? If you need to take a breather or something is too much for you to handle just tell me and we will get through it together.”

“You shouldn't have to do that Gem its your brothers wedding day. You should be happy celebrating him not babysitting me.”

“I love my brother more than anything on this planet but that doesn't mean I have to agree with everything he does.”

“Gem Emma is perfect for Harry. She makes him over the moon happy that is all I want for him. I guess thats what makes it worse she absolutely  lovely, not a bad bone in her body.”

“Don't get me wrong I adore Emma but its always been you two, always. trust me I'm not the only one who thinks so.”

“Who else knows?” 

“My mum, well its basically obvious to everyone but Harry. Tell you the boy is clueless.”

“He doesn't love me Gem I have to accept it.” 

“You're the strongest person I know y/n.” 

The car ride to the church is spent with Gemma filling the air with small talk. I can tell she is trying to distract me bless her soul. There is nothing on this Earth that could pull me away from this pain. I should have told him why the hell did I not take a chance. What if he felt the same way, what if-

“y/n? you ready.” 

It takes me a moment to realize that we have arrived to the church. I take a deep breathe and nod. I step out of the car and force myself to smile. This is going to be a very long night. 

We step through the doors and I am taken back by how beautiful the church is. We are one of the first people here Anne greets us right away, hugging Gemma first then making her way to me. She immediately wraps her arms around me and whispers.

“He is looking for you I can come up with something if you're not ready to see him.” I pull away 

“No, Its okay I'm ready.” Anne leads me to the back room where Harry is we both stand blankly in front of the door.

“I love you my sweet girl let know if you need anything.” 

“Thank you Anne I love you too.” She gently smiles and quietly walks away

I can feel my heart fall to my throat. My hand begins to shake as I slowly lift it and begin knocking.

“Come in.” His voice causes my heart to race my mouth goes dry I slowly turn the knob and enter. 

Harry stands in front of a tiny mirror adjusting his curly hair. He turns to face me and his face turns up into a bright smile. This is so hard 

“Hey, there you are come in.” the sun light streaming through the window causes his skin to radiate a heavenly glow. His eyes, My God those eyes I never want them to leave mine.

“Look at you, you look so handsome ” don't cry don't cry don't cry 

He walks closer to me, “Thank you petal, you know its crazy to think that you use to be taller than me.”

“Oh hush you'll shrink down by the time you're forty. You'll probably be balding by then too.”

He dramatically gasps, “Okay now you've crossed a line.” we both chuckle as he walks behind me grabbing two glasses and a bottle of champagne. He pops the Champagne open and begins pouring.

“I don’t think Ive ever been this nervous.” he hands me a glass 

“You’ll be fine you have nothing to worry about.”

“I need you to know that it means the world to me that you're here. You're my best friend and I could not imagine doing this without you.”

“Of course Harry what are friends for?” He steps closer to me 

“Can you promise me something?” His eyes poor into mine, it takes everything in me not to fall into his arms and confess everything. All I can do is nod as he continues.

“Promise me that we will be in each others lives forever. That we will spend holidays together and our kids will grow up and become best friends just like we did.” 

“I promise.” I raise my glass to his clinking it 

“Heres to forever.”

“To forever.” A forever next to a man I can never have. 

The ceremony begins, I watched Harry step up to the alter messing with his fingers as he waits for his bride. A nervous habit he has never been able to break. Theres a moment when everything goes silent my eyes are glued to Harry. His eyes are wide, his smile the brightest I have ever seen. I can't stop myself from grinning along with him. He looks so happy, Emma makes her way closer to him their eyes are focused on each other. I watch him  mouth the words ‘I love you’ and in that moment my heart shatters. 

They exchange their vows giving the rest of their lives to one another. I sat in silence counting all the times I could have confessed. Once the ceremony ends I drive with Niall and Louis to the reception. Its nice to get pulled out of reality for awhile. Louis is the best person to go to when you need a distraction. Once we reach the reception I find my name tag and take my seat. I'm able to get through dinner and make polite conversation. The Dj announces Mr and Mrs. styles are about to have their fist dance. I couldn't sit through it, I had to excuse myself.

I tried my best to be inconspicuous as I snuck through the back. The cool summer breeze kissed my skin, the sun began to set as I listened to their song in the background. I have never felt so empty. I couldn't hold back anymore I let myself unravel I let every tear Ive ever held back fall.

I didn't realize how long I was outside till the moon began to rise. I was suddenly pulled away from my thoughts when the back door opened.

“y/n? What are you doing out here I have been looking all over for you.” I can't bring myself to face him.

“y/n? petal its freezing out here.” I feel him begin to wrap his tux around me but I pull away.

“You don't have to do that I'm okay.” he stands closer to me 

“Have you been crying?” 

“I’m okay its probably just the wine you know how I get.” I try my best to keep my voice calm but the lump in my throat gets bigger and bigger 

“Hey, hey, hey look at me. You can talk to me y/n its me.”

“Harry please just go inside Ill be okay I promise just go back and enjoy your wedding.”

“I can't enjoy it knowing you’re out here by yourself crying. You haven't even danced with me yet.” I can't help but chuckle at his concern 

“Come on please petal come dance with me I have a song picked out and everything.”

“Harry I can't, Im sorry I just can't.”

“Thats okay we can dance right here.”

“Here?”

“well you won't go inside come on come here.”

He wraps his hands around my waist and I place mine on his shoulders. We slowly sway back and fourth even though the Dj is playing a fast paced song. I can't handle looking at him so I place my head on his shoulder.

“Petal I want you to know that whatever is bothering you will get better. I will be here when you are ready to talk about it. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight I can't stand to see you sad. Emma will be heartbroken if she knew you were so upset.” And with that I lost it again, I pulled away from him.

“I have to go Harry.” 

“What why?”

“I can't handle this anymore.”

“y/n please talk to me you're freaking me out.”

“Its too much I will ruin everything if I tell you.” He grabs my hands in his attempting to calm me down 

“Please just talk to me I promise you aren't going to ruin anything.”

“You are the most important person in my life Harry. You have been here for me my entire life and your friendship means the world to me. I thought I could push it away, I thought I would be able to do this but its impossible because I'm in love with you. I don't expect you to do or say anything I just needed you to know. I will leave and you won't have to worry about me intruding I promise I am so sorry for ruining everything I just-” 

He wraps his arms around me and pulls my body close to his chest. I slowly bring my arms around him, hugging him back. I hear him sniffle and realize he is crying. He pulls away for a moment and puts his forehead against mine

“I should have told you.” he whispers 

“What?” This can't be happening 

“Its always been you y/n.”

“You can't say that to me Harry this can't happen its too late.”

“I know.” Tears streaming down both of our face 

“Its best for the both of us if I disappear for awhile Harry.”

“Petal please don't you're my best friend, I love you.”

“I love you too but this is too hard I can't watch you kiss her its too painful I just need some time.”

“Please don't do this.”

“Harry I have to let you go.”

“I know that you understand that I love Emma with all my heart. She makes me so happy and for a long time I was convinced I would never have that. She is my wife and I will always honor and be loyal to her. But that will never change the fact that you will always be my first. It was you from the beginning, you will aways be in my heart fucking always. Promise me you won't let this change us please.”

“I can't promise that. I just need to go away for awhile please don't be upset with me.”

He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead.

“I could never be upset with I just can't believe we have to-”

“Let each other go.” we say in unison

He let me go. 

Hope you all enjoyed!!! sorry if none of it makes sense I never edit my work lol

[schmicos]

coffeeshop au where nico is a barista who has a sign that says "for your drink today I recommend:" and levi's a regular who always gets whats on the sign and after trying to subtly flirt for weeks one day the sign just says "for your drink today I recommend: you to give me your number"

this is so cute

nico is the cute, handsome barista at the local coffeeshop after he inherited the family business. he’s so great, the entire community loves him. he talks with all of his customers and comes to really get to know everyone. he has the warmest smile and the brightest laugh and he always greets you by asking how your day went.

one morning, on a particularly slow day, nico is wiping down the front counter as the bright sunlight filters in through the front window. he hears the bell by the front door ring and he looks up, losing his sense of space for a second. that feeling when you look at someone and suddenly you’re not consciously aware that you’re in that moment anymore. you’re kind of frozen except your mind isn’t even with your body and it takes you a quick second to get pulled back into reality because you’re so captivated by whoever it is that’s pulling your attention away.

anyway nico doesn’t realize he’s staring until the man ends up about five inches from his face and he snaps out of it and clears his throat.

“Um, what can I get you?” Nico says, hastily stowing away the dish towel under the counter.

The man standing in front of him is still glancing at the menu above Nico’s head and suddenly Nico’s lost in the auburn brown hue of the man’s eyes, like the warmest caramel chocolate on a mellow autumn day. he could swim in them forever.

“I’ll have an iced caramel macchiato with soy milk, please.” The man finishes, finally bringing his eyes in line with Nico’s. the glint shining within them is brighter than anything Nico’s ever seen. The man offers a small smile and Nico falls for the warm, easy expression on his face in an instant.

before Nico can make any more of a fool of himself he’s sure, he offers an easy smile and simply agrees “going with the recommended specials today, good choice.” he finishes, with a wink.

and for a split second Nico swears the man in front of him all but melts in laughter as he giggles at the barista who had just winked at him of all things

the two share a look that feels almost too familiar, like they had known each other somewhere, some place beyond the four walls of this cafe. it takes Nico a second to finally turn away and begin preparing the drink.

Levi can’t help but watch in awe as the tall barista whizzes about the miniature work station, pouring liquids and sprinkling powders in like it’s all he’s ever been meant to do. it’s art.

moments later, when the order is finally ready, Nico meets him at the check-out counter and asks for his name. never mind that it’s only protocol, Nico needs to know the name of this stunning man before he could ever walk back out the front door again, he thinks.

“Levi.” he says. and Nico’s head swims because he puts a name to a face and suddenly there’s nothing that could seem more fitting. he scribbles the name across the cup and hands it to Levi as he exchanges the cup for coins and cash in payment.

as soon as the transaction is complete, Levi thanks Nico as people do with a courteous smile and a nod and Nico falls a little bit more.

the barista can’t help but feel a sense of loss watching the man walk back out the door but he goes home that night and sits in his armchair in the living room as his mind wanders back to Levi, to the knowing glances the two had exchanged earlier that morning. he wonders if they’ll ever meet again.

it isn’t until the next day when Nico is busying himself with the finances that the same beautiful man walks back through the doorway of his small shop and glances up at the specials board once again.

he orders the vanilla sweet cream cold brew, another daily special, and nico can’t figure out whether he’s doing it on purpose or whether he really just doesn’t know what to order. nonetheless, nico whizzes back to his work station and prepares yet another drink for the man. this time, as they meet at the check-out counter, nico fools himself into thinking that awestruck, mellow expression on levi’s face couldn’t be more than the breezy ambiance of the quiet shop fawning over both of their moods, like the man in front of him could never fall for the local friendly barista. but he does.

days fly by and every morning is just like the last. easy smiles and mellow tones and bright eyes capturing visions of one another as each falls deeper than the next.

it isn’t until one morning when levi walks back in again that he glances up at the specials board and his eyes light up with something so bright nico has a hard time putting a name to it. he lets out the crispest most beautiful laugh nico has maybe ever heard as his eyes finally meet the man in front of him.

the board above nico’s head, normally declaring the day’s specials only bears three words written in clean white chalk, “your phone number.” and levi can only look down at the counter with the coyest smile on his face as he rubs the back of his neck, unsure of how to react.

finally, he simply lets out a short, gleeful “yes.” and he pulls his phone out as the two exchange numbers. later that night, they agree to meet for drinks at the local bar, irony notwithstanding, and they talk and laugh the night away as they finally get to know one another on a date seemingly long overdue.

soon enough, nights out at the bars become dinner dates and overnight sleepovers at each other’s apartment and trips and things and neither can help but notice maybe this is what love has always supposed to feel like.

they whisper their first I love you’s into each other’s mouths along the coastline on a beach one night at sunset, their breaths intermingling as they gaze into each other’s eyes, their expressions locked forever. neither can bring themselves to tear away from the near perfect moment because maybe this is it. maybe this is the one. and as they walk hand in hand back towards their hotel room that night for activities nothing less than scandalous, their bodies slide together, drawing together an unspoken commitment between the two of them, one that begins to dictate the rest of their lives together. in an agreement devoted to one another for the rest of time.