#anyways if anyone needs me i’ll be throwing myself into the ocean!

[hellfireeddiemunson]

nothing like ending the work day having a panic attack for probably the next full hour i’m here. hahahahahahahaha

[but-make-it-sapphic]

Back at it again with a tough lesbian fanfic. I have a type, I suppose. 👀 They gotta look like they could hurt me. 😅 Anyways, here’s:

Chaem from Coral Island | Cooking Up Romance

“Hey!”

A gentle nudge startled me awake. I blinked and stared down at the culprit. One bare foot—tanned and wide from years of walking around without shoes—was poised in the air, ready to strike again if necessary. I traced it upward, my gaze trailing along its owner’s muscular calf, their thighs each thicker than my head, their perfectly sun-kissed abs and biceps that looked like they could crush me in a bear hug if they wanted to.

But there was nothing playful in the way their owner gazed down at me. Their expression was set, almost stern. “You’re in my way.”

“Oh? Uh…sorry.” I quickly climbed to my feet and bent to retrieve my towel. “Are these spots assigned or something?”

“What?” Their face scrunched up in confusion. “No. This is just where I stand. I’m the lifeguard here.”

I glanced to my left down the beach, seeing only the woman in the chair. To the right, I found no one. “Uh huh. And…exactly whose life are you guarding?”

They crossed their arms over their chest, and my attention was immediately diverted to their chiseled shoulders. Muscles like that had always been my weakness.

“School is about to let out. And this beach is the place to be when you live on such a small island.”

I forced my gaze upward to meet their eye again. “Uh, Sure. Yeah, that makes sense. Well…happy guarding.”

After taking a few awkward steps away, something pulled me back: a gut feeling I couldn’t ignore. I needed to at least get their name.

“So…is there really nowhere else one could go to… I dunno, hang out?”

They cast me a sideward glance, seemingly surprised that I was still standing there. “Do you mean for the kids, or…?”

I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Oh! No, I mean for me.”

“Well, there’s always Fishensips for food and karaoke.”

“Oh, perfect! I love food!”

The slightest smile twitched at the corner of their full lips. “I recommend Frank’s pesto pasta. It’s the best around. There’s also Raj’s Coffee Corner right out front where most islanders go in the mornings. Their coffee is really good, or so I hear.”

So, they don’t drink coffee…

“And what’s your favorite place on the island?” I asked.

They turn toward me, their expression softening just a bit. “The hot springs, without a doubt. Nothing beats a hot soak after a hard workout.”

I swallowed hard, determined to not allow myself to imagine it. “That sounds amazing. I’ve been working so hard all morning trying to clear all these stupid rocks out of the garden and…” I trailed off, worried I might begin to ramble.

“Right. You’re the new farmer.”

“I’m Riley,” I said with a smile.

“Riley,” they repeated. Their voice was deep and a little gruff. I loved the sound of my name in their mouth. “I’m Chaem.”

But they didn’t move to shake my hand or anything. They still stood there, cross-armed, as their gaze flitted between me and the ocean.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Chaem. Could I…ask your pronouns?”

“She/her is fine,” she said. Then she chuckled. “Thanks for asking. Most people just assume. I guess the tourists aren’t used to seeing strong women.”

I hugged my towel to my chest with a chuckle. “Oh, trust me. I get it. Long hair and a little mascara and most people assume I’m a woman. Not all nonbinary people are androgynous.”

“Exactly! Do you use they/them?”

“I do,” I said with a nod. “But I wouldn’t punch someone for throwing a she in there now and again.”

Chaem nodded, amused. I dug my toes into the sand and wracked my brain for something to ask just to keep her talking. But she spoke up before I could think of anything.

“Well…I’d better get to work. It only takes a split second for somebody to get into trouble in the water. But I bet the Beach Shack has people in it if you want to chat.”

I glanced toward the little hut with a frown. “Oh, that’s all right. I…don’t really know anyone yet. But maybe I’ll see you at the Fishensips sometime?”

“Sure,” she said simply. “See you.”

"Yeah. See you."

I backed away with a wave of my hand and turned on my heel to plod off through the sand. Chaem was...direct. A little gruff. But she'd been friendy, right? I couldn't have imagined it. As I passed by, Yuri lowered the corner of her book just enough to shoot me a playful smirk. She’d heard every word, I was sure of it. Heat flooded my face and I walked faster just to get the heck out of there.

The longer I walked, the more foolish I felt. By the time I reached the cabin, I was certain that I’d been blinded by muscles and that I’d ignored every sign that Chaem had little to no interest in talking to me. I was always doing that!

But after years of all work and very little play, I was starved for attention. I finally had time for socialization. I was ready for friendship. And, if I was lucky, for love. Coming to this island was supposed to be my chance at a better life. And I wasn’t creating it by keeping myself cooped up in that old cabin. I needed to put myself out there!

So, I cleaned myself up and picked out my cutest outfit. And as the sun began to set, I made my way across the bridge and into town for some dinner at Fishensips.

Read more…

[keepermcge]

Anyway, Lann is beautiful fight me. 

[syllvane]

breakfast- natahsa romanoff x reader

a/n: this was requested by anon! this is 4.5k words.

You still haven’t gotten used to the quiet that comes with half of the population being gone, but you can’t quite remember what it was like before either- you vaguely remember the hustle and bustle of life before the Blip, but that's all it’s become. A memory, one that seems to become harder to recall each and every day.

“What are you doing here so early?”

You nearly dropped the groceries that you had been holding, startled by Natasha’s voice in the hallway leading into the kitchen.

“You scared me- you’re lucky I wasn’t holding the eggs or something.”

Natasha looked at you somewhat amused, making her way into the kitchen and leaning against one of the counters.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You glanced at her, smiling before turning back to where you were unloading the groceries.

“I was going to surprise you with breakfast, though I suppose it was silly to think I could surprise a spy.”

You didn’t miss the small smile that appeared on her face as you started unloading the groceries anyways, getting ready to cook.

“Silly, maybe, but also sweet. What can I do to help?” Natasha asked and you shook your head, pointing at her with the plastic spoon you had grabbed.

“Sit down, you’ve been doing a lot these past couple months- too much, I would argue. Let me do something for you.”

“You’re selling yourself short. You’ve been doing a lot around here as well,” Natasha protested and you gave her a pointed look before going back to cooking.

“If you really want to do something, then you can make us coffee. But nothing else. I want you to relax.”

“Coffee, I can do that,” She mumbled, springing into action, her arm brushing against yours as she filled up the coffee maker with hot water.

The next time you try to surprise her with breakfast is a little under a week later and when you walk into the Avengers compound, you are met with the smell of freshly cooked breakfast.

Damn her.

You walked into the kitchen, still carrying groceries, to see that Natasha had cooked what could only be described as a feast.

She looked at you, proud that she had one-upped you.

“How did you know?” You asked her, simply setting the groceries to the side.

She looked at you as if she was considering whether to lie or not.

“I didn’t,” She said honestly and almost a bit sheepishly. “I cooked every morning hoping that you’d show up one of these days. I know it’s silly.”

“It’s not, it’s…” You looked over the different plates of food as if one of them held the right words. “It’s incredibly sweet. I’ll make the coffee?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Breakfast becomes a regular occurrence for the two of you and although half of the universe had to disappear for the two of you to grow closer, you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Hey,” Natasha said, drawing your attention as the two of you washed dishes side by side, your arms touching each other. “I’m going to have to cancel our breakfast date on Thursday. I think I may have a lead on Clint and so I want to go and see it for myself.”

“You want company?” You asked without hesitation and she looked at you.

“I don’t want to bother you and besides, I don’t think anything will come of it.”

“Okay well, one, you could never bother me, and two, even if nothing comes out of it, you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

She didn’t say anything, though a small smile appeared on her face as she loaded the last of the plates and bowls into the dishwasher.

Though the prospect of you coming with seemed to make her happy for reasons she didn’t quite understand, she pushed you away.

“I’ll be fine alone, I promise.”

“Okay, if you promise,” You said, flicking a bit of the soapy water at her.

She stopped moving and looked at you incredulously.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Did what, this?” You asked, doing it again, more boldly this time

She looked at you and though everything about her face screamed ‘serious’, her eyes were alight with playfulness.

She stalked back over towards the sink and although you backed away and lifted your arms to protect yourself, she splashed you nonetheless.

Grabbing the nearest ingredient towards you, you lifted a hand full of flour and aimed it towards her.

“You don’t have to do this,” She said, walking towards you slowly with her hands lifted up as if she was surrendering. “Just drop-”

Before she can finish her sentence, you threw the flour at her.

Her face is covered in flour, clumps of it sticking to her face where you had splashed water previously and she stared at you in surprise, a smile still on her face.

Before you could even process what she was doing, she had her own handful of flour and threw it onto you, the flour coating your clothes and face, as well as the counters and the floor.

You lunged for the flour but she caught your wrist, your eyes meeting hers.

You reached your other hand towards it and she caught that as well, pulling you close to her, closer than you had ever been to her.

“Don’t,” She said softly, her eyes bright. “Don’t start a fight that you can’t win.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” You asked and she let go of your wrists, letting your hands fall back to your side and taking a step backwards.

“We should clean this up- Steve’s going to throw a fit if he sees this mess.”

“You have a meeting in a little bit, you can go. I got this.”

“Nonsense, I threw just as much flour as you. You take the island and the counters, I’ll take the cabinets and floors. It’ll get done quicker this way.”

“Nat-”

“Just… let me help you. Please.”

“You’re impossible,” You said but didn’t protest against her helping any longer.

As Natasha pointed out, the kitchen was completely clean in half of the time that it would’ve taken for your to clean it alone, leaving Natasha more than enough time to change her clothes and to get any remnants of flour off of her face and out of her hair before her meeting.

Well, almost all of it.

“Nat, wait!” You yelled, running after her before she turned the holographs on.

She turned and looked at you, concerned.

“What is it?”

“You just had a little…”

You got close to her and using your thumb, you wiped some flour off of her face that she hadn’t noticed.

“Thank you,” She said softly and the two of you just stood there like that for a couple of seconds before you pulled yourself away.

“Right. Have a good meeting, Natasha,” You said before turning away, not waiting for her response.

That’s the last time you have a full conversation with her before she goes looking for Clint.

You’re almost done making breakfast when she enters through the front door, looking worn out and exhausted, dropping her bag onto the floor.

She continued into the kitchen, blinking when she noticed you staring at her and the food that you had already set onto the table.

“How did you…” She sniffed, wiping her nose, searching for the words.

You turned the stove burner off and closed the distance between the two of you, pulling her into a tight hug.

She hugged you back just as tightly as if you were a lifeboat and she was drowning in the middle of the ocean.

“I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t… I don’t recognize the man who did those things.”

“I know, Nat.”

“And he acts like we didn’t lose everything as well. We lost everything as well and yet, we continue, no matter how much we’ve lost, because we don’t have the luxury of playing vigilante. Some of us have a world that we’re trying to put back together, you know?”

“I know,” You said softly.

She doesn’t say anything for a while, just stands there in your arms.

“I miss Yelena. I miss Alexei and Melina. I miss them so much it feels like I’m just drowning in it. Like it’s just going to swallow me whole one day.”

“Tell me about them.”

And so she does.

She tells you about Ohio and about life in between her time in the Red Room. She tells you about the destruction of the Red Room and about Yelena buying and giving to Natasha the first item of clothing that she had ever bought. She tells you about forest stars and photo booths and blue hair dye.

She tells you more than she has ever told anyone else, more than she will ever tell anyone else.

And eventually, she lets go.

Her face is red from tears, but neither of you point it out, both of you sitting down at the table and eating breakfast.

“I think this is the first proper meal I’ve had in days,” She said and you frowned at her, your eyes narrowing.

“You need to take better care of yourself. When was the last time you slept?”

She looked away from your eyes, back towards the plate of food.

“Haven’t since I left,” She said quietly, her eyes flickering back up towards yours to see your reaction.

The creases by your eyes deepened.

“Natasha-”

“In all fairness, I was going to go to sleep as soon as I got back, but someone surprised me with breakfast,” She said, punctuating her sentence with a forkful of food.

“Okay, but we’re going to sleep right after you’re done, okay?”

“‘We’?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m tired too,” You said sheepishly and in her tiredness, she did not push you further on it.

She pushed her plate away from her a little, standing up and taking your hand.

“We can do dishes later. Let’s go to sleep,” She said and you stood up, letting her lead you to her bedroom.

She pulled you onto her bed and you fell asleep in her arms, which was somehow only the second most romantic thing you had done with Natasha Romanoff.

The first was, of course, falling in love with her.

If someone had asked you to point out a specific month or day that you had fallen in love with her, you wouldn’t know where to begin.

Months of friendship blended together with something more and you weren’t quite sure where your feelings for her began and where they ended, where they had transitioned into something more, something greater.

It didn’t really matter, you supposed- months passed since her return from looking for Clint and things continued on as normal, with breakfasts and small touches, gestures from her that could be easily misconstrued as something more than friendship.

You didn’t mind the closeness though, the way her hands always seemed to graze over yours when reaching for the same thing or the way her arm would touch yours when the two of you did the dishes.

You didn’t mind it, just wished for more of it. Wished that she would just take your hand outright one day.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? Dinner is a little out of your wheelhouse,” Natasha joked and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll manage. Is it just Steve that’s coming tonight or are we getting the whole gang back together?”

“Just Steve, I’m pretty sure. Banner might come as well, but Pepper and Tony aren’t coming for sure.”

“Well, at least that minimizes the chances of a fight breaking out.”

“I can start throwing punches if needed,” She offered and you looked at her, a small smile on your lips.

“Appreciate the offer, but I think we’re good.”

“Well, if you change your mind…”

“I’ll let you know,” You smiled. “Now are you going to help me make dinner or not?”

The two of you easily fell into a rhythm while you cooked, anticipating each other’s needs before the other even said anything. Natasha would open her mouth to ask for a knife to find that you were already setting it down beside her.

“You know, I think we make a good team,” You said, your hands on your hips as you looked over all the hard work that the two of you had done.

Natasha wiped her hands on a towel before standing beside you, nodding.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this kitchen used before, not like this,” Steve noted, standing in the doorway behind the two of you.

Though both of you were well-trained in stealth and surveillance, you almost jumped when you heard Steve’s voice.

“Don’t sneak up on us like that!” You scolded Steve and before you even asked for it, Natasha handed you the towel that she had been holding and you threw it at him.

He held his hands up in defense, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiled. He caught it with ease and set it down on the island.

“Now, there’s no need for violence. It smells great in here, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day where she would be cooking,” He said, motioning towards Natasha.

“She’s working on it,” You joked and Natasha gave you a pointed look, suddenly wishing that she still had her towel. She settled for swatting at your arm with her hand. “Hey! Like the old man said, no need for violence. I was just joking.”

“What, I’m five minutes late and you guys are already fighting?” Bruce asked, walking in the front door.

“You came!” You smiled widely, walking over to the scientist and hugging him.

Steve looked back at Natasha.

“Can you believe that? He gets a hug and I get a towel thrown at me.”

Natasha let out a breathy laugh.

“You startled her, that was your first mistake.”

Steve smiled as well before grabbing one of the various dishes that the two of you had made and bringing it to the dining table.

Natasha started moving the dishes as well, giving a small, cursory nod to Bruce as he sat down.

You swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Dude, you need to sit down. You’re a guest.”

Steve looked at Natasha, pointing at you.

“Do you see this? She’s going to injure me.”

You shot him a playful glare before helping Natasha with the rest of the dishes and the silverware, setting plates down in front of everyone and taking a seat next to Natasha, across from Steve and Bruce.

Dinner started off lighthearted, the four of your digging into the food.

You talked of past stories and past missions and science and of everything but the unavoidable present, the reality that everyone had been stuck in for more than a year now.

It seemed crazy when you thought about it like that, that half of the population had been gone for over a year, a full rotation around the sun without some of your favorite people.

It was dark outside when the conversation shifted.

“So, how have you guys been with… everything?” Natasha asked and a hush fell around the table.

“I don’t know if it’ll ever get any easier,” Steve said honestly.

“I don’t know how it could get worse,” Natasha retorted, though everyone already knew the answer.

“Another year. Another two, another ten,” Bruce said solemnly before taking another sip of the water that was in front of him. He checked his watch and blinked, realizing for the first time how late it had gotten. “Sorry to leave on that note, but I should get going, guys. Didn’t realize how late it was.”

“I’m glad you came. It was nice seeing you again,” You said genuinely, standing up from the table and walking over to hug him.

He hugged you back, giving Natasha a little wave and Steve a pat on the back before you walked him out of the kitchen, towards the front door.

“You two make a good couple, you know. I didn’t realize the two of you were even dating, but you two seem to make each other very happy.”

“Thank you, but we’re not dating,” Natasha said, her lips pressed together in a tight smile.

Steve raised his eyebrows.

“Are you sure? Because with the way the two of you were looking at each other, I would’ve sworn otherwise.”

“Positive,” Natasha said, trying to stop herself from blushing.

“What are you two talking about?” You asked, walking back into the room.

Steve stood up from where he was sitting and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’re leaving us too?”

“Like Bruce pointed out, it’s getting late. It was so nice seeing both of you.”

You stood there for a minute before walking to where he was standing and hugging him.

“Don’t be a stranger, Steve. You are always welcome here,” You said before taking a step back.

He smiled back at you.

“I would hope so- I still technically work here, right?”

“Did Tony ever rehire you?” You wondered out loud.

“Did he ever rehire you?” He shot back and you shrugged.

“Fair point.”

“Drive safe, old man,” Natasha said before Steve hugged her as well.

“Goodnight, to the both of you.”

He walked out of the front door and you began cleaning up the dishes.

“Steve said the funniest thing earlier, when you were walking Bruce out.”

“Oh?” You asked, making it clear that you were listening even if you weren’t looking at her.

“He thought we were dating.”

You stopped what you were doing, turning the water off and setting the plate down.

“What did you say?”

“I just told him the truth, that we weren’t.”

“Why did he think that we were?” You asked, trying your best to seem as if your heart wasn’t pounding.

“Something about the way we look at each other,” She said as if she hadn’t committed the words to memory.

“Natasha-”

“I mean, it’d probably be a bad idea, with us working together and all.”

“Natasha.”

“And neither of us are really used to it either and-”

You turned around, taking a couple of steps so that you were only a couple of inches away from her.

Your hand hovered above her cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

Her breath hitched.

“Yes.”

And you kissed her.

You kissed her that night and you kissed her the morning after, as her girlfriend, and you kissed her while she made breakfast and you kissed her again and again and again.

You kissed her on your six-month anniversary and you held her when she woke up from the nightmares she’d tell you about and the ones that she would never speak of.

And you keep on kissing her, until six months becomes a year and a year becomes two, until you can’t imagine a world that exists without her love.

“I’m still mad at you for getting out of bed so early,” You grumbled, looking over the breakfast that she had prepared for the two of you.

She nearly jumped when she heard your voice before she smiled warmly and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Morning. How did you sleep?” She asked, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Good. Would’ve been better if I could’ve slept a few more hours.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, though she seemed uncharacteristically anxious.

“We can go back to bed after, okay? Breakfast first.”

“This looks wonderful,” You said, wiping your bleary eyes and looking over the table more carefully before looking back at her. You poured coffee for the two of you. “You seem like you’re on edge.”

“I’m not,” She said, though you weren’t fully convinced. “Let’s eat.”

You sat down across from her, starting to eat when you became keenly aware of the fact that she was carefully watching you as you ate.

You set your utensils down and she nearly jumped out of her seat.

“Nat, what is going on?”

She blinked.

“Nothing, I-”

“You are a surprisingly bad liar, for a spy. Nat, just tell me what is-”

“Can you just… try the pancakes? Please?”

You stared at her for a couple of seconds but when her face remained unchanged, you sighed and cut a piece of the pancake and put it in your mouth.

You started chewing and you bit something hard.

“Did you leave eggshells in this or… oh.” You spit the bit on the napkin and upon closer examination, you could see what you were biting.

A ring.

You stared at it for a couple of seconds before looking back at where she was sitting to see that she was no longer sitting at all, but kneeling on the ground in front of you, a huge smile on her face and tears welling up in her eyes.

You laughed, covering your mouth.

“I’ve always known that you’re a hero. You’ve always shown such great care for everyone around you, whether they be your team members or civilians. You’ve saved so many people and I didn’t realize this when you first came over here and made breakfast for the first time, but you were saving me as well. From my grief, from loneliness. From myself, at times. You saved me and then you kept on saving me and kept on tearing down these walls that I had put up. I am not perfect and I will never promise you anything of the sort, but I am promising you that I will love you with everything that I am. I am promising that I will try to love you in the same way that you have loved me. I’ve never believed in marriage- I’ve never believed in a lot, if we’re being honest. But I believe in you. And I want to marry you, if you’ll have me.”

You didn’t say anything, tears in your own eyes before you burst out half-laughing and half-crying.

“Natasha, look in your coffee cup.”

She looked slightly confused but she did as you said, moving the coffee cup slightly so that she could see the bottom.

Her free hand rushed up to her mouth before she started laugh-crying as well and you got up and the two of you hugged tightly.

“I think that was the worst pancake I’ve ever had,” You mumbled into the crook of her shoulder, still laughing.

She began to laugh even harder, the two of you rocking in the kitchen.

After the two of you broke apart, she fished the ring that you had placed in her coffee out, admiring it.

“You never said yes, you know,” She pointed out and you looked at her, cleaning the ring she had given to you.

“Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you today or tomorrow or in a million years.”

“My answer is yes too. Though preferably not in a million years.”

A million years may have been a more reasonable time than you had thought- the two of you originally set a wedding date in the winter, though it was interrupted by a string of killings committed by Clint.

Turns out, he is good for more than making Natasha upset by not coming to your wedding, he’s also good for upheaving your wedding day in its entirety.

You reschedule the date a couple of months later, only for a couple of Widows to call for Natasha’s help in saving one of their own. She can’t refuse and you would never ask her to.

“I don’t know if it’ll ever be the right time,” Natasha said softly, laying next to you in bed, a couple of nights after returning from the mission.

You turned over so that you were facing her.

“For the wedding?”

She nodded.

“I don’t think it’ll feel right if everyone isn’t there with us. I know that you’ve been really busy planning for it, but-"

“Nat, I don’t care about a wedding. I don’t need some ceremony to tell you how much I love you. If you want to stay like this, if you don’t want a ceremony or anything, then okay. All I need is you.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“You’re really good at cooking breakfast,” You mumbled back and she laughed.

“I love you.”

“I know,” You said sleepily, barely able to keep your eyes open. “I love you too.”

The bubble of peace that you had managed to create for all these years remains for another, until Scott Lang shows up at the front door to the Avengers Compound.

From there, the bubble completely popped, not that either of you minded much.

This was what you both wanted, right? Everything back to what it was before.

Now, with Tony’s plan, everyone seemed to be running around the Avenger’s Compound again, everyone anxious to do something useful after all of these years.

“I still don’t like that he’s here,” You said begrudgingly and Natasha sighed. “He isn’t the Clint either of us knew.”

“I had to go after him. He deserves a chance at forgiveness,” She argued quietly, careful not to be overheard. “You’ve forgiven me for everything I’ve done. Why can’t you forgive him?”

“Because everything you’ve done since you left the Red Room has been in service of clearing out your ledger. He was killing people a couple of days ago.”

She didn’t say anything at that, thinking.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not asking to invite him to our wedding, I’m just asking you to trust him.”

You looked at her, unable to stop the smile that started on your face.

“We can finally get married- we can have our families at our wedding,” You said softly and she nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips as well.

“God, I can’t wait to introduce you to my family. I can’t wait to meet yours. I think you and Yelena are going to get along a lot.”

“Okay,” You said after a while. “I trust him.”

The two of you started walking towards the main open floor, where the machine that Tony had dreamt up had been constructed.

The others were already waiting there in their suits, waiting for your conversation to finish up.

“Okay. It’s Vormir, right? Where you and Clint are going?” Natasha nodded, her forehead leaning against yours. “Okay, well, you’re going to have to tell me all about it when you get back. I wish I was going in space.”

She smiled, kissing you on the forehead before proceeding to pepper your entire face with kisses before landing on your lips.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to kiss her enough.

“Yeah, you only get to time travel,” She smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it, I promise. I love you.”

“I love you too. Come back home, okay? I’ll have breakfast waiting.”

“Okay,” She said softly, stepping back. “I’ll make the coffee.”

“You don’t have to do anything, just be there. Just be there, Nat.”

“I will,” She said, beaming. “I promise I will.”

In the last moments you’re with her, she looks the happiest that you’ve ever seen her.

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

  “ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

   ‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem. 

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

     The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

  “Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

  “Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

  “You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

  “John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

  “Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

   You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

  “Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

  “Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

  “It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

  “Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

  “Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

  “You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

  After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

  “Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

  “Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

  “I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

  “Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

  You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

  “Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

  The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

  You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

  Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

  You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

  You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

  Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

  Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

  Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.  

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

  He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

  “C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

  The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

  “Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

  The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

  “We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

  “Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

  “I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

  To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

  On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

  “Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

  “You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.  

  “Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

  “You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

  “Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

  “As in bi-curious?”

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

  When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

    ||\\

  It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

  “Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

  She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV.  “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

  “Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

  “Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

  It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

  The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

  Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

  “Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

  “Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

  “Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

  You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

  “Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

  “Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

  “Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

  Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

  Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

  “Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

  He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

  “He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

  “None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

  When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

  “Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

  “You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

  Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

  “Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

  He’s lying. You can tell.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

  “Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

  He’s angry.

  You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

  “Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

  He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

  “Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

  As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

  Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

   Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

  The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

  “Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

  You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.    

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

  You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

  “I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

  “Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

  He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

  “Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

  “Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

  “It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

  He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

  “Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

  “Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

  “Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

  “Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

   She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

     You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

  At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

  “You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

  “It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

  “I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

  “Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

  “Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

  “I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

  “Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

  Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

  As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

  You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

  “Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

  “What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

  “Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

  “Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

  “Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

  “You’re bossy today.”

  You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

  “Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

  “I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.  

  All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

  “Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

  “I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

  “Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

  “Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

  “I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

  “I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

  “Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

  “Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

        ||\\

  You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

  “I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

  “Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

  “I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

  “How can you even say that?” he barked.

  “Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

  He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

  “Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

  “Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

  “I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

   A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it. 

   And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close. 

   Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together.  You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

  “How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

   He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

  “I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

  “You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

  “That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

  You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

  “It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

  “It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

  “Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

  He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

 “Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

  “Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

  Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

  As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

  Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

  She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Last time you said that…”

  “I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

  “Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

  He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

  “Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

  “Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

  “You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

  “Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

  “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

  “I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

  Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

  “What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

  I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

     You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

  But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

  “Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

  “Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

  “I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

  He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

  “I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

  “So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

  “I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

  “Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

   He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

  “Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant. 

  “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly. 

  That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

  “For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

   By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

  “That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

  “What about you?”

  “Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

  “But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

  “That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

  Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.  

  You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

  He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

   Well, shit.

  He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

  You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

  You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

  “You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath.  You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

  You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

  “Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

  “What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

  “We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

  “Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

  You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

  “Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

  “Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

  ||\\

  He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

  He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

  He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

  So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

 ||\\

    “What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

  Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

  You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

  “We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

  “What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

  “Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

  “Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

  “Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

  “Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

  As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

  “Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

  “Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

  He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

  Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

  “Yoongi, what-“

  “Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

  No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

  At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

  “Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

   Brother?

  “How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

  “Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

  “Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

  “People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

  “Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

  “I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

  “Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

  “Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

  “It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

  Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

  “Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

  “Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

  Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

  “Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

  Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.    

  There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

  “How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

  He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

  “I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

  “What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

  “Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

  This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

  You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.  

  “Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

   ||\\

                                                       “Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

     It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

  No. He promised.

  You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

  Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

  Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

  You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

  “Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

  “When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

  “I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

  “Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

  He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

  “I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

  “What, now? Y/N-“

  “I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

  Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

  “No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

  He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

  Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

  You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

  You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

  “Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

  He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

  “Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

  Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

  “Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

  “No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

  When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

  Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

 ||\\

    The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

  During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

  “Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

  The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

  “Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

  “Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

  “It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

  “You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

  You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

  “It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

  Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

  Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

  Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

  “Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

  You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

  “Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

  You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

  “So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

  “Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

  “I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

  “Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

  “I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

  “Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

  Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

  “H-How come?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

  You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

  “Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

  “That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

  “Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

  “I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

  You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

  “Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

  Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

  “If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

  He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

  “Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

  “Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

  “Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

  “Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

  “Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

  That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

  Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

  “No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

  “Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

  “No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

  He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

  “You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

  You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

  “I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

  You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

  Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

  Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

  You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

  “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

  “She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

  As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

  “Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

  All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

  “Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

  “We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

  “Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

  “Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

  “Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

  “I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

  “Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

  “I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

  “Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

  Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

  You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

  “Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

  “Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

  “Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

  “Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

  “Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

  “Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

  “What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

  His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

[thefanficmonster]

You Never Notice

Sykkuno x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?

Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰

Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.

Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.

“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved. 

And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.

“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.

“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought

My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.

“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“

“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.

“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.

“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.

“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“

“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“

Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.

“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it. 

“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.

“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“ 

Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.

Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me. 

Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.  

“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.

On point there, dear. On damn point.

“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free. 

“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.

He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.

“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“

And I disconnect from the Discord call.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“

I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.

Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.

From Sykkuno.

~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason

Me ~ So...?

~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N

Me ~ Wait WHAT?

~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?

Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see

It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.

He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...

~ So, movie date?

I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.

Me ~ So it is.

The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.

Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on

He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.

 Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.

Even better...

I think the feeling’s mutual.

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: would you be so kind Ship: obikin Second: Ten years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Anakin Skywalker, a charming young mage from Naboo, but as fate willed, they could not be together. A decade and thousands dead later, Alderaan’s High Court Sorcerer meets a Forger and his excited apprentice. AN: I forgot to post this on tumblr apparently, but here’s the first chapter of my second long WIP I am working on!

Then

The ship was crammed, filled to the brim with people clinging to one another, staring either at the home they’d lost or the home they hoped to be sailing to. Hundreds of ships had left Dromund Kaas already, carrying refugees across the ocean to safer harbors. The tension was high and sharp enough to cut as they sailed away from the doomed country and only relaxed when the pressure of the country’s shields finally left their shoulders.

“An awful sight, isn’t it?”

Anakin startled, instinctually pulled his coat around himself. Were he in a better shape, he would have lashed out immediately, winds, bindings, blood—

But the power flowing through his veins was too constricted, caged like a wild beast. Instead, Anakin just turned to look at the person who’d addressed him. An old woman with snow-white markings and long lekku stared at the dying country just as he had moments before, grief and resignation painting a sorrowful picture. “I never thought I’d leave this place. Did you?”

Wordlessly, Anakin shook his head. No, he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever leave this place again. He’d been ready to be buried under the ashes of marble altars, not see this new dawn.

“I was born here, married too. All my children were born within the boundaries of this country and perhaps that is the reason they all left,” the woman continued. “I am glad that they weren’t here. If I think about what could have happened to them were they anywhere near the capital… I apologize; I hope you don’t mind my rambling. You looked like you needed company. Are you traveling to Naboo?”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give an affirmation, but stopped. He hadn’t quite thought where he’d go, except as far away from this place as he could. Naboo was certainly an option; Padmé would be glad to see him, he was sure. She’d take him in without asking a single question and defend him against the storms that were sure to come.

But Padmé was his friend and Anakin couldn’t allow her to shoulder his burden.

“No,” Anakin heard himself saying. “I’m not traveling to Naboo.”

“They are quite defenseless right now, yes, you are right. The fact that it’s the first stop of this ship is tempting enough for most to disregard what troubles might find them there.” The woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll be going to Alderaan myself. My eldest lives there, and in a country as strong as that, a tragedy like this can’t strike.”

She turned to look at the remains of Dromund Kaas again. The coastline used to be covered by beautiful large trees; his Master used to tell him how vital they were for its defense.

Now there was nothing but ash and darkness. Even here on the outskirts, where it had taken the longest for the remains of the catastrophe to reach, nobody was safe from it. Dromund Kaas had been in a pitiful state after the last war, which had made it an easy place to hideaway in. Alderaan might be stronger, the blooming center of magical education, but Anakin doubted they’d be able to defend against an attack like this. Nothing could save them from an attack such as this.

But Alderaan’s distance to this cesspit of disease was enough to provide a different kind of security.

Thousands of refugees would search for safety there, and Queen Breha was as cunning as she was kind. No one would be turned away and Anakin could slip in just right with them.

“I’m going to Alderaan as well,” Anakin replied.

The woman looked him over, then she beamed as if she were a young child and not already among the older members of her species.

Her smile was the first Anakin had seen in weeks. “Looks like we’ll be traveling companions then! You must tell me your name, young friend. I’m Raya Tano.”

She held out her hand and Anakin awkwardly shook it with his own left.

“My name is—”

Now

“Anakin Skywalker! Your automaton is ruining my kitchen!”

Sighing, Anakin let the spell sink back into the metal and settle into it. So much for working on his commissions today. A quick glance around the workshop told him that it was not one of his automatons running wild. Artoo was currently charging up and Threepio was keeping himself busy cleaning up. All the other small automatons Anakin crafted when he was bored were either asleep and charging or hurrying around the workshop, washing up the floors and putting away the tools Anakin had been using.

Anakin tugged off his gloves and threw them to a tiny and eager little automaton before picking up his softer everyday gloves. The leather was still quite resistant and had more runes stitched into it than most people dared to weave into one cloth, but they were nowhere near as excellently crafted as his work gloves. The dragonhide gloves were worth a fortune and so they never left his workshop unless Anakin had to. Anakin watched the little automaton put the gloves in their usual compartment until he could hear the click reassuring that the lock was in place. At first, that had only been a measure against thieves as he hadn’t had much to his name, but by now, it was a habit.

And it discouraged Ahsoka from stealing them for her own projects.

Anakin walked out of his workshop and crossed the courtyard to the small cottage he called his home, finding a kitchen in disarray, Raya standing on a chair with a small red automaton attempting to clean the floors.

“Look what a mess it’s making!” Raya said accusingly. “Instead of polishing my floors, it’s dirtying them!”

“I can see that,” Anakin hummed. He waited until the small automaton had reached his feet, then he bent down and pressed his hand flat on its small back, stopping it. Ahsoka’s handiwork was getting better; this little guy had kept moving for a while despite her absence. Anakin had no idea what the formal apprenticeship for forgers entailed, when they ought to hit what milestone, but he was willing to bet that Ahsoka was years ahead of her peers. Her spells were strong, her rune work fantastic, and very few actual weaknesses were left to explore in her automatons.

But Anakin was still a Master and Ahsoka only an Apprentice. Her work was not yet good enough to keep out foreign interference. Without much thought, he deactivated the automaton completely.

“This was your granddaughter’s handiwork,” Anakin commented. “She’s improving in leaps and bounds.”

Raya huffed and stepped from her chair. “I’m glad to hear that, but weren’t you meant to teach her control?”

“I am,” Anakin said, the argument an old and fond one. They returned to it frequently, mostly to annoy the young Apprentice. “And were she still as much of a mess as three years ago, she hardly would be able to craft such a fine automaton. Can’t do anything about her manners.”

Especially since she’d become a teenager. Anakin didn’t remember being as much of a pain as Ahsoka could be.

“And here I was thinking Masters were supposed to teach their Apprentices a medium of decorum.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what she has you for, doesn’t she?”

Raya’s expression softened. “That she does.”

Anakin sometimes wondered how Raya managed to stay so kind and calm when the world had taken so much from her. Her husband, country, her children— and yet she still stood straight, caring for the fellow traveler she’d never allowed to leave and the granddaughter that had been dumped on her with just a warning for Ahsoka’s generally explosive tendencies.

“Where is Ahsoka anyway?” Anakin asked, looking around the kitchen as if she would jump out in the open any moment. “I sent her on an errand earlier this morning, but she hasn’t returned yet.”

Unfortunately, Raya couldn’t tell him either. “I have no idea where that girl is running around—”

“Anakin!”

Speak of the dark and it shall appear. The door was thrown open and Ahsoka rushed inside, tracking even more dirt all over the floor, causing Raya to throw up her arms in defeat in a way Anakin knew meant Ahsoka would be left with all her favorite chores for the next week.

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “You’re late.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahsoka replied and rolled her eyes, obviously disinterested in what he had to say. “I got all you asked for and ordered the new metals, but look at this!”

Ahsoka raised her hand, revealing a ripped-off poster. It was tasteful in design, fine cursive writing on light blues, gold ornaments in the corners and, of course, the royal crest right in the middle of it.

Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of Alderaan, Breha Organa, invites all Alderaani Practitioners of the Mythic Arts to attend the festivities in the capital of Aldera—

“Absolutely not,” Anakin said before he could even read the rest of the text. “We’re not going to Aldera to some festival.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka shot back. “It’s no summit, but it would at least be something.”

Her bitterness did not go unnoticed. Ahsoka had begged for months to attend this year’s summit. Every five, all magic practitioners gathered on Tython to exchange notes on their craft and pretend they were not also discussing the politics of their respective countries, forging alliances and the like. Anakin hadn’t been to the last summit, it having been just after Dromund Kaas, and the one before were tainted by the memories that followed, no matter how sweet the time had been. Ahsoka, of course, had begged to attend this year’s one, but it would only be foolish and reckless. He couldn’t just walk into the biggest gathering of mages in the whole continent and expect to get out of it without anyone realizing who he was, asking questions, concluding what he’d done.

Anakin had too much to hide, too much to lose, and he wasn’t going to risk his little Apprentice for it.

Not that Ahsoka knew any of that and wasn’t in the least satisfied with Anakin’s reply and immediately made her displeasure known.

“What would you even want to see there?” Anakin asked, trying to downplay how entertaining such an event was. “It’ll just be all the posh court sorcerers showing off with their fancy focusing crystals. It’s utterly boring and uncreative.”

“Like you wouldn’t use a focusing crystal if you had one,” Ahsoka muttered, arms crossed. “It’s just— there’s nobody else around here who can do magic. And all you ever do is work on machines.”

“Which requires a lot of concentration as it’s not just the manipulation of one aspect, but—”

“—but many, yes, yes, I know the speech,” Ahsoka said and dutifully listed all elements that went into their craft. There was a reason why not many forgers existed. Most mages lacked the talent, patience, and education to learn this craft, or were just plain afraid that they’d permanently damage their ability to use magic at all.

And with the speed technology was evolving and magic weaponized to terrifying new heights, not too many people still had use for forgers. Where two-hundred-years ago, you wouldn’t have gone out to hunt a dragon with a simple sword, but only with one crafted by a Master forger, nowadays you didn’t necessarily need one. Battle magic was on the rise again, especially with more and more countries growing uneasy, peace treaties falling apart. Combined with the threats from the northern continents, it was no wonder people cared less and less about expensive forgers when they could mass-produce and enchant simpler items.

“I just hoped you’d allow at least this,” Ahsoka finished. Her shoulders dropped. “Should have known better. I’ll go finish my readings.”

Ahsoka turned around, her shoulders still hanging, her head low.

Damn it.

Anakin knew that she was doing it on purpose. His Apprentice was cunning and had learned how to play into his every weakness. Slowly she marched into the direction of the door, dragging her feet behind her for effect and dramatics.

Raya raised a brow at him. She usually stayed out of Ahsoka’s tutelage, knowing next to nothing about magic herself, but even with his past being little more than a mystery to her, she could read him better than anyone else.

“Urgh, fine,” Anakin heard himself say. “Fine, we can go to the festival.”

Ahsoka turned around quicker than light and jumped up. “Yes!”

“But that means you’re not going to bring up the summit again!”

“Yes! Of course!” A moment later, Anakin had an armful of an apprentice. “Thank you so much, Master, you’re the best!”

Once she let go of him, she went to hug Raya and hug even her dirty automaton to her chest, still radiating happiness. “I need to go pack my bags immediately!”

“The festival is not for another week—”

Ahsoka obviously didn’t care. So caught up in her joy, she rushed upstairs, heading to her room to start packing. It shouldn’t surprise Anakin that she was so motivated. Ahsoka was a person who thrived on interaction, being surrounded by other people. While the people of their village were friendly, none of them were mages or even just sensitive to magic. It was one of the reasons Anakin had decided to stay without too much fight. But growing up so far removed from other mages had made Ahsoka twice as curious to meet others.

The thought made his stomach churn. He’d have to give Ahsoka formal lessons about their trade now, just if somebody asked questions that were too pointed. She’d also need a bit of the know-how on how you usually interacted with other mages and which pretentious bastards to call sorcerers before they threw a hissy fit. All these capital folks were much too sensitive about terminology after all. Anakin had never bothered to tell her the differences before, but Ahsoka would kill him if she accidentally embarrassed herself because he hadn’t seen it fit to instruct her properly. Forget teaching Ahsoka how to improve her automaton, the next week would be full of etiquette lessons. Skies, there’d be people trying to steal their spellwork too. Had he even mentioned that kind of theft before? Anakin honestly couldn’t recall.

“Already regretting it?” Raya asked, her voice just a touch amused.

“Just a bit,” Anakin replied.

“It’ll be good for her,” Raya said, convinced and confident enough for the both of them. “And good for you as well. I’ve known you for years now and you’ve never even brought a friend over. I’m not going to be young forever, you know. I do expect to be introduced to your future spouse at some point.”

“And this is my cue to go packing as well,” Anakin announced and followed Ahsoka up the stairs with Raya’s laughter following him.

He had no intention of being with anyone, ever, unless he could find glamours that held up even when majorly distracted. On his way up the stairs, Anakin caught a look of himself in the window, saw black vines curling around his neck, inviting someone to take a closer look.

It was better this way.

[vintagedolan]

when koa gets in, is grayson rude to her ?? what’s his reaction upon seeing her ?

since this do be a concept train, I want to know what exactly Koa feels towards the twins. Does she know them? Des she know about them? I just know that initial meeting is going to be TENSE

(also angry Grayson is hot)

two: character profile

masterlist��| request the next concept!

It only took Koa two days to unpack. She had 2 suitcases of clothes and personal belongings, and $300 worth of a haul from target down the street, which included only a few essentials. 

She was lucky enough to have found a three person apartment with one vacancy, which came with the advantage of it already being mostly furnished. The air mattress she bought would have to do in her room for now - she’d spent most her money on a desk.

Writers write, they don’t sleep anyways. 

She met her roommates, Harlow and Gabby. Harlow was from Kentucky, which Koa only knew from the KFC on the island back home. But she was sweet and friendly, and willing to help out wherever she could. She even gave Koa a ride to target, let her fill up the back of her honda with all of her purchases.

Gabby was born and raised in LA. And it was obvious. Her attitude, her superiority and her general lack of regard for anyone other than herself had Koa ready to call her out in the first day, but she held back, knowing she was in for the long haul. 

But that attitude made her even more nervous for her meeting at 11am the third day, in Encino California. Just the fact that she’d been given a gate code was enough to put a pit in her stomach. She wondered how stupid she would look, walking up to it instead of driving.

Harlow helped her find the right bus route, and it took a minute. And by a minute, she meant a fucking hour to plan it out, and a 30 minute bus ride to get close enough to the Dolan’s house to make the 20 minute walk the rest of the way. She missed the Hawaiian breeze, the trade winds coming in off the ocean to stave off the beating sun as she made the journey with her backpack hanging off one of her shoulders up all of the hills of the neighborhood.

By the time she made it to the house, there was sweat rolling down her back, soaking her shirt and making her question every life decision she’d made to get herself there. 

She typed in the code, and as soon as she walked through the gate her blood was boiling.

Five cars. There were five cars in the driveway, parked in two neat rows. The Tesla caught her eye first, plugged into its own charger in the garage.

She knew they had money. But fucking hell. The house itself was more subtle, didn’t scream rich in her face in twelve languages - from the outside anyways. 

It took her a moment to settle herself, to put a smile on her face. The Dolans, it seemed, where the type of people who showed up at the shave ice stand in Hawaii on vacation - not the ones who worked it.

But she’d known that. And she tried to remind herself of exactly how their wealth was going to work in her favor, for the sales of ‘their’ book, which would increase her cut. And so, she smoothed her frizzy hair as best she could and went up to the door.

She didn’t have to knock. Instead, the door swung open, a bright young woman standing there with a welcoming smile. 

“Koa?”

“That’s me.”

“Hi! I’m Adele, the twins assistant.”

Koa swallowed. Of course. Of course they had an assistant. Why wouldn’t they. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Come on in, it’s hot out there.” Adele stepped to the side, revealing the interior of the house.

It was subtle. If Koa were to write it, she’d describe the warmth. It radiated from multiple centers - the neutral woods, the simple decorations, the dark appliances, the fireplace on the far wall, and the very tall, smiling man with a tattoo sleeve by the door. 

In the next paragraph, she’d talk about the cold. It came from one place, one specific spot in the living room. His back was half turned away, but his stiffness, his annoyance, radiated off his shoulders with less effort than it took him to breathe. 

Koa swallowed hard again.

“Hey, I’m Ethan. It’s nice to finally put a face with the writing.” His voice was as genuine as his smile, which he tried to make wide enough for the two of them it seemed. 

By process of elimination, she knew it was Grayson who stood up rather slowly and made his way over.

“I’m Grayson. Nice to meet you.” His voice was flatter than the mantle behind him. Koa smiled anyways.

They each held out a hand, and she prayed her palm wasn’t sweaty from her walk when she shook them one by one. 

Ethan pulled out a chair for her at the island, metal legs groaning against the hardwood.

“You want a drink?”

“Yeah, that’d be great actually. Thanks.” The formality tasted sour on her tongue. She told herself she wasn’t going to do this, wasn’t going to make herself out to be someone more professional than she really was.

But Grayson had her on edge. Even when Ethan sat down in the chair beside her with two glasses of water, Grayson stood tall on the other side of the island, arms crossed and strong brow furrowed. 

Silence filled the space with emptiness, and Koa drank her water, her rings tinkling against her glass. 

“So-” Ethan started, finally breaking the tension. “This meeting isn’t anything like crazy formal, we just kinda wanted to touch base with you, get to know you a bit and figure out exactly how we’re gonna do this.”

“Yeah, no that’s great. I’m down for that, that’s a good idea.”

“We’ve never even thought about writing a book really, so we’re kinda at your mercy.” Ethan’s laugh wasn’t loud enough to cover Grayson’s scoff. Koa watched him for a moment, analyzed him. He seemed tense, and angry, and sad all at once somehow. The tension in his jaw was sharp, but there was a fear in there somewhere that she could sense. He caught her eye, and she turned back to Ethan.

“Well, this is gonna be new for all of us I think. The thing about this is I’m not writing as me, I’m writing as you two. It’s from your perspective, it’s what you want to say. I’m just here to help you say it. So yeah, I’ll help guide you all in what you want in there and how to arrange it to get people hooked and into it, but-”

“Do you usually ghost write stuff for people?” Grayson leaned against the counter, shoulder broad and wide. Intimidating. The tattoos that peaked out from under the short sleeve of his shirt were delicate lines. Gentle. She looked at those instead when she spoke.

“Uh, no. This is my first time doing it formally.”

“So what do you write then.”

“My specialty is fiction. Novels.”

“Great. Fucking fantastic.” To Koa’s amazement, Grayson was laughing. Running his hands over his face and up through his long hair. Callous. 

“I’m sorry, is writing novels a bad thing?”

“No. But I’m not a character you get to make however you want.” He met her eyes then, the green of them so dark they looked brown as he stared at her. “I’m a person.”

“I figured that much out for myself. If you have an issue, I’m all ears.”

Even she was impressed with how steady her voice was. She clasped her hands lightly together and rested them on the island, the way white business men always did in movies, and stared him down. 

“Full disclosure, the book was more my idea, less Grayson’s,” Ethan chimed in.

“All Ethan’s, none of mine,” Grayson corrected. “Because I know how this shit goes. You’re gonna twist whatever you need to get a story together, make us tell shit we don’t want to tell and put it out for the world to read just to get your bag. And I don’t want any part of it.” 

It was Koa’s turn to laugh. “Well buddy, you’re giving me plenty of content to work with if I’m supposed to be building a character profile on you or whatever the fuck it is you think I’m here to do.”

“Uh-” Ethan barely got the syllable out.

“You know, most people would kill for this. This book will be everywhere, and you have a chance to tell the world something and actually have them hear it. Don’t throw that away so quick.”

Something in Grayson’s face changed, and it made her want to pull her words back out of the air. 

“Yeah, well I’m pretty fucking sure I’ve given the world enough of myself, but thanks for the offer.” 

With that, Grayson turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen.

“Bro-” Ethan called out.

“It’s fine,” Koa muttered. 

“I’m sorry, really. He’s kinda going through it right now, there’s been a lot of stuff going on and he’s just worried. I’ll talk to him, we’ll figure out how to make this work.”

“Right.”

Ethan frowned. “Koa, I’m serious. I really liked your stuff, and I know you can write a kick ass book for us. I want you to, and he will too, I just gotta get him to get his head out of his ass.”

“Good luck with that one,” Koa chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m gonna go.”

“Okay. I’ll text you and we can figure out another time to figure out the details.”

“Sounds good. I’ll brainstorm some stuff.”

“Sick. Sorry, again, for all that. Drive safe.”

Koa put her backpack over her shoulder and climbed out of the chair, chugging the rest of the water in her glass, knowing she’d need it for her walk to the bus stop.

“Yeah. See you later Ethan. Like I said; good luck.”

[gallickingun]

reassurance || oikawa tooru

SUMMARY: You and Oikawa Tooru have become close after spending weeks partnered together in your college course. You have an unspoken relationship, nothing exclusive, but Oikawa plans to change that once he realizes a toll his other female fanatics have on you and your confidence.

PAIRING: Oikawa x Fem!Reader RATINGS: T+ WARNINGS: language, negative feelings, anxiety, etc. WORD COUNT: 3.8k+

Author’s Note: This is my very first Haikyuu!! piece. I’m not sure how it ended up being Oikawa, but here we are! In the future, if you guys want, I’ll definitely do more Oikawa but also Sugawara, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama!

The jersey sits heavy on your shoulders – as if Atlas himself had bestowed the burden of carrying the weight of the world to you personally. Your back aches but you stand when the set is thrown across the court anyway, hands held close together in preparation of a clap.

He always gives you a reason to redden your hands in praise.

When the ball slams onto the court, his eyes turn to you – dark and playful, the lilt of a smirk on his lips. His left eye drops in a wink and as you bring your hand up to wave, your body tenses at the sound of screams from just behind your position in the bleachers.

“Oikawa!” They drag out each syllable of his name for an excessive amount of time, and the flirtatious drawl of their voices makes your skin crawl. They giggle in unison, a flurry of voices trying to be louder than the last, their laughter echoing off the gym walls, “Great serve!”

Your hands wring together in your lap as you find your seat again, eyes downcast so you cannot make out the frustrated expression on his face when you back down from them. He grits his teeth and curls his fists, but anyone looking on and unaware would believe he was just pushing himself to newer limits, a higher level to achieve. He is not known for his tendency to stagnate, especially not in a game where there are newscasters and reporters present, scouts for national level teams scattered in the stands.

“I heard he’s seeing someone,” a higher-pitched voice chimes in, just across your shoulder. Before you can turn your body to defend yourself, or the girl in question can continue, another one further to the left butts in, “Yeah, but I heard it’s not exclusive. Which basically means he’s still fair game.”

“He’s not a piece of meat, guys.”

You’re thankful for whichever third voice of reason pipes up, but the sheer number of girls giggling behind you does little to quell your spiraling nerves. The pit of your stomach is in shambles, your arms wrapped around your torso in an attempt to hold yourself together while the last set of the game winds down.

They’re not wrong, per say. You and Oikawa aren’t exclusively dating, not really calling one another pet names, or holding hands across campus. At most, you’re comfortable, your bodies walking in synch from building to building, finding it easy to fill the otherwise awkward silence with talk, or comfortable just basking in the quiet. He will throw an arm around your shoulders and kiss your temple, but the actual affection is saved for when he walks you to your car or you spend the evening studying in his dorm.

The two of you started off as lab partners, forced to spend extra time outside of class together to study and put together a project that’s worth a decent amount of your semester grade. In that time, you’d grown to enjoy his company, and he started inviting you out with his teammates and their friends after practice and to parties, and even to study together for other subjects outside of the lab class you were taking.

It was not long before your mouths found one another and your hearts grew to become intertwined.

And now, here you are, stood in the stands, your body on the edge of your seat as he twirls the ball in his palms, blowing a breath through his teeth as he steps to the edge of the court. He toes the white line, as if mentally marking the spot, the start of a smirk on his lips as he grows more confident with each passing second. Your heart stalls within your chest, just as it always does, when the ball is thrown into midair, spinning so quickly you can hardly see the multi-colored stripes, rather each piece blurring together to create one dark hue.

Oikawa manages to throw another service ace, bringing the game to match point in favor of your school’s team. As the ball is rolled back underneath the net, he turns to look at you, undoubtedly gazing directly into your eyes, tilting his head in your direction and blowing a kiss from the center of his palm.

You reach your palm out into midair, stretching your digits so your hand is wide open. It is a silly thing, something the both of you started when you had to be across campus from one another, unable to meet up for lunch or coffee or studying. After a moment, your fingers wrap around your empty palm, grabbing his intangible kiss from the space between you. He watches intently as you press your digits against your lips, the ghost of his kiss on the ridges of your fingerprints. As your mouth curls upward in a smile, Oikawa’s expression lilts to match your own, the faintest hint of dimples dipping into his cheeks on either side.

“If you think that was for you, then you’re delusional,” the tinny-voiced girl from before leans down to whisper in your ear, her hand menacingly placed on your shoulder, like a weight meant to sink you to the bottom of the ocean. “It was obviously for me. I have my linguistics course with ‘kawa, and he and I were partnered up for a project this past week. He’s so totally into me, even offered to carry my books.”

Her heels look pointed enough that she could pierce your throat or your eye with the tip, so you merely shove her hand off of your shoulder and turn around, clapping as Oikawa tosses his next serve up in the air. You rally with the rest of the crowd, whooping and hollering when his hand hits the ball, a loud echo from the slap making you wince.

When you look up, the ball is in play, volleying back and forth from one side to the next. Oikawa’s face is flushed, hands at the ready as he takes his position. After a few more moments, a perfect set from Oikawa to your team’s ace lands them the final point they need to win the set.

The entire crowd goes ecstatic, everyone standing to their feet, ringing their bells and blaring their horns, clapping their hands as the boys on the court jump up and down and hug one another. Oikawa has his arm around the ace, tugging him to tell him something close in his ear, but his eyes wander to the crowd, finding you in an instant, dropping his left lid down in a wink. You can’t help the way your heart constricts within your ribs, like a caged dove desperate to fly free. Your hand are over your face as the teams both line up to thank one another for the game, and once they are released to the locker rooms, you start to gather your things.

You hear a snicker from above you, and when you turn your head, a thin, beautiful brunette with blue eyes is glaring down at you, a smirk tugging upward on her thin, peachy lips. She cackles, crossing her arms over her ample chest to multiply the appearance of her size, “I hope you’re not waiting around for ‘Kawa. Prepare to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed in what?”

The familiar, smooth voice in your ear sends your whole body into a stupor. You look over your shoulder, but he’s already so close to you that you can feel the heat of him against your side. Oikawa’s palm slides into the back pocket of your jeans and your tongue lolls back in your throat, near choked on the organ as you watch him sidle his attention to the girls stood behind you on the next row of bleachers, an unassuming expression aligning his features.

Your body flushes with heat, face warm to the touch and your backside where his hand is currently placed is practically throbbing at the attention. Oikawa pulls you in tighter, your body tucked into his side, and he smiles, eyes near-sparkling underneath the fluorescent gym lighting.

“Hey pretty girl,” he kisses the crown of your head, squeezing you with his elbow that is around your back as best he can, “did you enjoy the game?”

Glancing up at him, you make eye contact and it floods your body with a familiar warmth, your stomach doing flips and your heart pattering within your chest, “Yes, you did so well! That’s two more service aces than last game!”

“That’s my girl.” Another kiss is pressed to your temple, his lips warm and smooth against your skin. You note that he’s being even more affectionate than normal, and you have to wonder if it’s in response to seeing those girls encroaching on your space. “Now what was this about being disappointed? Not in my game, was it? I know I screwed up a couple of times, but I think I redeemed myself alright!”

You turn to the girls stood in the bleachers, their faces paling in color as their jaws hang open just slightly, his words doing little to reign them in. The expression on your face has morphed into one of self-satisfaction and smugness, lips quirked into a smirk, one brow cocked upward, “No, ‘Ru, I think you did great. These girls were just worried you weren’t paying attention during the sets, is all.”

Oikawa stifles a laugh before it can break through the aloof expression he is wearing, eyes wide as he narrows his gaze to the group of college girls now stammering and blushing in regret for sticking around this long. He reaches behind his head to rest his palm on his neck, cocking his jaw slightly to the side to relay even more of an innocent appearance. You turn your body closer to him, his chest pressed against yours from the side, your arms circled around his waist. Now his hand in your pocket is on full display, thumb jutted out from the fabric, but the other four fingers are perfectly slotted against your backside.

“I’ll admit I was a little distracted,” he scrunches his nose, eyes crinkling at the edges as he does so. He turns from them to you, sliding his other hand down your ribs to your free pocket, aligning the fronts of your bodies so your chests are flush. Oikawa’s honeyed gaze is lingering on you, and for the moment you feel like there is a spotlight on the two of you, center stage as he brushes the tip of his nose against the bridge of your face.

“I knew you were coming to the game, all decked out in my jersey. I couldn’t help but stare at you between sets.” Your cheeks burn as he kisses your forehead, but you can’t help the uneasiness that you feel swirling in your stomach, dripping down your throat like acid. You wonder if his intentions are pure – is he truly claiming you as his in front of this crowd, or is he merely trying to throw them off of his scent, using you as bait?

Oikawa tugs on the hem of the jersey adorning your torso, something akin to pride shining in his warm irises, quelling the turmoil in your belly for just a moment. “You look adorable in my clothes.”

The shrill one out of the three speaks up, pushing herself onto her tip-toes to appear taller, looming down over you both, “B-But I thought you guys weren’t allowed to let other people wear their jerseys?”

“Oh yeah,” Oikawa waves his hand in midair, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, “I got special permission from the coach, he said since I was the one who closed our last few games with those service aces, he’d let me loan the jersey out to my girl.”

At the mention of my girl, Oikawa turns to kiss you on the forehead, tucking your head beneath his chin as he holds you closer. He smiles over the top of you at the group of girls, a smug tone seeping into his words, in spite of his innocent expression, “Are you girls here for someone?”

They all begin to stutter in jumbled tones before scrambling down the bleachers, apologizing and taking their leave. The door to the gymnasium has hardly shut before Oikawa bursts into a fit of laughter, holding you by the arms as he takes in your bashful expression. He leans down, trying to remain close despite the noisy crowds maneuvering their way through the gym, “You wanna grab something to eat? Coach gave us tomorrow off from practice, so I don’t have to head back to the dorms just yet.”

“Yeah,” you nod, your hands pressing flat to his chest, jersey stuck to his skin with sweat. You scrunch your nose in response, shaking your head and forcing a disgusted sound from the back of your throat, “You better shower first though, Tooru, cause I’m not going anywhere with your stink.”

Oikawa squeezes your backside gently with his limited grip, hands still stuffed in your pockets, “I’ll be out of the locker room in a few minutes. You can wait for me in the car, okay?”

Your hand finds his keys, jingling as you move your hip, the lanyard weighing heavy on your beltloop, “Yeah, okay.”

His eyes find you instantaneously, your tone dropped an octave as you loop your index finger through the o-ring that his car key is attached to, your knuckle crooked around the cool metal, as if you were keeping it safe from harm. Oikawa pulls you forward with a gentle tug against your backside, your body enraptured with his as he looks down at you, his nose brushing your forehead.

“Thank you for coming,” Oikawa’s lips are against the dip in your brows, running down the bridge of your nose, “I think you’re my favorite good luck charm.”

You can’t help but chuckle sarcastically, your fists curling around his jersey, “As if you need any good luck, ‘Ru.”

Oikawa withdraws his hands from your pockets, but pats your ass gently, causing you to stumble into him until your bodies are flush. He laughs into your hair, kissing the crown of your head affectionately before releasing you.

He’s walking away, but he makes sure to call over his shoulder, “Of course I don’t, I’ve got you!”

You’re trying to contain your blush all the way back to his car, wringing your hands in front of your body, twirling his car keys between your knuckles. You play with the fob attached, his name embroidered with his number and the school’s logo – a gift you bought for him a few months into the semester. He pulled you into his lap when he made out what it was, his hands cupped around your thighs as your knees settled on either side of his hips, gentle words parting his lips: “How is it you already know me so well?”

You are alone in the car for a good twenty minutes, and you pass the time by listening to the radio and scrolling through several of your social media accounts and checking your emails from various professors. Before you know it, he’s startling you when he opens the driver’s side door. You press your hand over your heart, eyes widening as he slips into the front seat, long legs slotting beneath the steering wheel.

Oikawa reaches across the console to press his palm to your thigh, squeezing the fleshiest expanse of skin gently, “Hey, pretty girl. What’s got you thinking so hard?”

Your palm finds his knuckles, a soft smile upturning your features at the gentleness of his mannerisms. Oikawa’s thumb brushes back and forth against the inner seam of your jeans, leaning his torso closer so he can nudge his nose against your cheek in a teasing motion. His smile can be felt against your skin, the corners of his lips upturned along your jawline.

“You.”

The answer is nothing short of truthful. He does not have to know in what capacity you’re thinking of him, only that you’ve given him the real reason as to why your brow is crinkled and your gaze is far-off rather than focused on him. Your heart twinges within your chest and your stomach grows sour the longer you think about those girls and what they had to say, how quickly they disregarded you.

“You’re adorable,” his mouth finds your cheek in a chaste kiss before he settles into the driver’s seat and shifts the car into reverse. Oikawa’s hand never leaves your thigh, pinned there by the immovable force of gravity, held in place by sheer will. Even as he orders at the drive-thru and maneuvers the car to the nearby park, his palm does not waver. It spreads a contagious heat, like a virus pricking at your veins, begging to be let in to devour you whole until you are nothing but a shell left behind by his affections.

Before you know it, the car is parked and Tooru is helping you out of your side of the vehicle. His hand is on yours and you almost stumble on your way to the meadow-like section of the boardwalk. You toe off your shoes and kick them to the side, sat in the grass as he straightens out a blanket he keeps in his car for times like these.

You are quiet as you nibble on your food, playing with the wrapper in between bites. Oikawa lets you stew in your own thoughts for a few minutes before he is breaking the silence, leaning his body into your personal space to shatter the box you’ve built around yourself.

“Is everything okay?” Oikawa’s hand is on your knee now, searing into your skin with the ridges of his fingertips, “You’ve been rather quiet since we left the gym.”

Immediately, your mind is thrown back to the scene you witness just before leaving. The group of girls all ganged up against you, sneering and snickering at your excitement at Oikawa’s success, as well as his affections towards you. Doubt crawls up your spine like a shadow, clutches it’s spiny claws into your shoulders and latches onto your skin, an itching starting that you know cannot be quelled with words alone.

“Wh-What did you think of those girls at the end of the game?”

You are taking a chance, stepping out onto a tightrope with no net underneath to catch you if you fall. Oikawa owes you nothing – there is no commitment, no promise that the two of you have made to one another. Is that not what the girls were saying? That you were not exclusive to one another, and therefore you have no claim to him.

The entirety of your body grows heavy as he speaks his next words, those golden brown eyes finding something off in the distance to focus on, “They were pretty, I guess. Not really my type, how about you?”

It is meant to be a joke, you think.

Oikawa is using his typical flat tone that he has to channel for when he is being overly sarcastic and must mask it before his façade falls into a fit of giggles. And still, the twitching of his lip, the telltale sign of his impending grin, does nothing to force your fear to the side. Rather, it multiplies at his false confession, building to a crescendo of acid within your belly, lapping at the innermost parts of you until you’re broken in the worst ways.

“Hey, I’m just teasing-”

A palm brushes your cheek but you are too numb to notice. Your eyes are lost, focused in on one blade of grass near your feet, trying to count the shades of green that reflect off the moonlight up above. The air surrounding you is like a balm, but you wish it were a salve; anything to help soothe the burning of your soul.

The charred ashes within your stomach start to suffocate you, floating up your esophagus until they burn the base of your throat and choke your tongue from the inside out. Tears simmer against your lashes and your face flushes with the threat of emotion taking over you like an apparition.

The feel of a knuckle against the underside of your chin, the fleshiest part, is what breaks you from your downward spiral, Oikawa’s voice quick to follow, “You can talk to me, you know.”

Your hands seek out his proximity, palms curling around his sweatshirt as the temptation to ask your questions sits on your tongue. The acid drips down the muscle to the back of your throat to meet the ashes, your jaw locked as you try to speak. Oikawa’s hand expands along your neck, thumb brushing against your jugular to coax the words from the base of your throat.

“Do you like me?”

A silence stretches between the two of you for a short moment before his fit of giggles breaks through it. Oikawa slots his hand into your hair and nuzzles your nose with his own, “Do you really think I would ask coach to break the jersey rules for me if I didn’t like you?”

You begin to babble, stuttering syllables crossing your lips as you try your best to defend yourself. Your hands go clammy and your tongue feels thick in your throat, eyes flitting across his face while you attempt to compose your emotions. Before you can force a full sentence from between your teeth, Oikawa has captured your lips in a kiss.

His mouth against yours melds your thoughts together until your mind is mush, unwilling and unable to create coherent thoughts. Your fingers shake against the fibers of his sweatshirt, shaking with the need to have him closer. He feels your desperation and smiles into the kiss, his own hands curling around your frame. He wants you closer now, as if the non-verbal confession has created something new between the two of you, a fresh bloom to admire and showcase.

As he pulls away, Tooru is still grinning, “I didn’t want to rush you, but I want you. Whatever that means for you. Relationship or not.”

“Relationship,” you are quick to answer, eager as you push yourself up on your knees, closer to his face. Your lips find his again, arms wound around his shoulders so you can be flush against his torso, fingertips brushing through his hair. He encourages you onto his lap, hands flat along your shoulders to steady you as you find your balance.

Oikawa’s nose nudges down your cheek and jaw, nipping kisses creating tiny red, aggravated marks against your skin that fade within moments of their origin, “You have nothing to be jealous of, princess. I promise.”

Your cheeks burn at his recall of your earlier admission, the insecurities eating away at your innards even through his affirmations. Oikawa licks his tongue along the column of your throat, forcing a shiver up your spine, and successfully redirecting your attention from your throttling thoughts to his warm mouth.

“If you still don’t believe me,” his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, eyes full of mirth as he gazes up at you through thick lashes, “then let me show you.”

---

not gonna lie..... this is NOT my favorite piece so if you made it this far thank you! if you’d like a second piece, one a little more spicy in nature, please let me know!!! or if you have any drabble/thirst requests i’d love to answer them!!!!!

bokuto is my next victim so be on the lookout for that! hopefully we’ll have lots more haikyuu posts in the future!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Fish

For @whump-advent-calendar‘s day 4-6, Burn/Candles

CW: Referenced medical whump and dehumanization, light burn (accidental), captivity, muzzling, drugging reference, reluctant whumper turned caretaker

Introduction | Siren Song | Cries | Here | Not Sure | Draw Blood | Fish | Signs

---

BAHRAM’S NOTES NOTE TO SELF - SAVE IN EXTERNAL HARD DRIVE. DO NOT LET DR. L SEE.

October 22nd, 20XX 3:45 am Mer in Residence: 19 Days

It’s time to admit I’m more or less keeping a diary at this point as I get to understanding him. So far I’ve written separate notes to myself… for ten or so straight days of the nineteen we’ve had him here, and it’s getting harder to write the official transcriptions the way Dr. L wants me to.

Dr. Lachlan insists I call the mer ‘it’, that it’s to help me distance myself emotionally since it’s such a good mimic of humanity, but I don’t think it’s a damn mimic, I think it’s just… human.

I mean, obviously it’s not HUMAN, but… Miah spelled it out for me, we had an argument about this when he first got here. She gets so angry that he’s getting hurt and you know, I guess I believed Dr. L - mer aren’t my specialty field, I’m a snake man really, I don’t know the first bloody thing about fucking cetaceans. 

Anyway, I said to her at the time, “It’s not human.”

She told me, “Maybe not H-U-M-A-N, but P-E-R-S-O-N,” just like jabbing me in the chest afterward. Also, Miah can fingerspell in a way that really makes you feel like a six year old getting yelled at by your mother, for the record. I can’t describe it any other way. I was ready to just melt away from personal embarrassment before she even finished signing “person.”

That’s not the point of this. 

I didn’t start a diary just to tell myself how right Miah is about all of this, but hey, here we are.

I need some days off so badly.

Miah wasn’t around today, it’s really just been me and the mer - I’m off for four days coming up here, after 20 days of work, and she’s going to come in and do 24-hour watch until I’m back. It’s not so bad - I don’t really know anyone here, and the bed’s comfortable enough. Dr. L’s paying rent on my apartment so I won’t lose it while I’m working, anyway.

I still feel like some low-level henchman, though. Like any moment some asshole in a tank top is going to show up with guns and I’ll just be a faceless evil stepping stone before the boss fight with Dr. L. 

I mean, we all know that Dr. L’s going to be the boss fight, right? Anders would just like lay down or throw Miah in front of himself or something.

No, that’s not fair, he really does love her.

Bahram this is all hypotheticals about a video game. Get back on track, man.

So Miah must have gone shopping or something. She came back with a bag full of these candles from this bookstore she really likes. I mean she came back with an insane amount of books, too, but she had this candle she pulled out and put down on my desk.

She set down the candle - it’s this really nice deep blue and has some kind of like ocean scene painted on the label, like, isn’t that thematic - and smiled at me. “This one reminded me of what we’re doing,” She told me, and her signs were… softer. Her expressions were softer alongside them.

Does that mean… anything? I don’t know. She just put it on my desk and then wandered off. I thanked her but I had to take her shoulder and get her to look at me, first. Maybe her face was a little red.

Maybe not. 

We keep the tank room pretty warm, I’m sort of cold-natured and the mer seems more active when we keep the lights really warm, so… 

I don’t get why she bought me a candle and why she looked away before I could thank her for it. I don’t get it, and I feel like I should, but I don’t. Is she not looking because it wasn’t a big deal, or because it was a big deal, or… what?

I really WOULD sink into the floor if Dr. L or Miah ever saw that I wrote this. Get it together, Bahram. You are not writing a diary about Miah fucking Kirsse. 

It’s been just me and the mer, all day. Dr. L was gone, too, meeting with whoever’s funding this whole thing. She’ll be gone until next week, so there’s no real work getting done, for now. Just blood draws.

She’s showing them its claws she took off. I don’t know why. Honestly, I have such a bad feeling about this, but I needed the cash and nowhere else was hiring for a job that would give me room and board and still time to work on my own research. Not that I’ve done a bit of THAT in a week.

I get too distracted by the mer.

He swims in circles. He stares at nothing, or pokes the plastic coral and ferns we got him, or hides in his cave. I can switch the screens over to watch the camera feed from inside the cave, but he doesn’t do much in there, either. I caught him picking at his scales, and I need to ask Dr. L about that. She took three scales off his tail, which for the record I had nothing to do with (whose record? I’m writing this to myself, and what the fuck does it matter about scales when I’m the one sticking the damn needle in his elbow twice a week), and I caught him sort of whistling sadly and picking at the empty spaces. 

They’ll grow back, Dr. L says. She’s not worried.

I am.

A little.

I’m starting to think Dr. L is lying about a lot of things, and I’m not sure what to do about that. If anything. This is a job, and I get paid better than I’ve ever been paid in my life. So… what do I do?

I could call the hotline and report him. It’s anonymous. 

She’d know I did it.

I don’t know why, but… I don’t want her to know it was me. Cowardice, I guess. Pure bloody cowardice.

But Miah hasn’t emailed the hotline, either. We can’t both be cowards, right?

Anyway.

Tonight was tank cleaning, which is a bloody fucking chore. Anders was around long enough to help me get the mer tranq’d and into the lift and then the rolling tank where he can just sit until I get my work done. Poor thing just lolls around when he’s tranq’d up. Barely blinks. 

Doesn’t stop its fucking crying, though.

We took a lot of blood from him today, too, so he was very weak. Barely moved, just curled himself up small so he was totally in the water and watched me work after Anders left. We’ve got a scrubber machine that does the hard work, I just have to hose some things down and then make sure its filter is still operating correctly. Watch the scrubber. Whole process takes about three hours from start to tank totally refilled, as long as I do it weekly. It’ll take much longer if I let it slide.

Double-checked the camera in the cave, and when I walked out of it I saw the mer’s head was up, watching everything I was doing. He dropped right back down under the water when he saw me looking at him. The muzzle looks so monstrous on him, but more than that, it makes him look like a monster.

Maybe Dr. L doesn’t muzzle him to keep us safe, but to keep me from seeing his expressions while I’m here with him all day.

No, that’s stupid. She doesn’t even think he’s sentient, right?

I finished up, and when I came to roll him back to the lift, I saw he’d popped his head up out of the rolling tank and was looking around the room itself. He hasn’t really looked around at all before this, and he was still tranq’d but maybe I fucked up the dosage? Because he was pretty alert, kind of whistling to himself and giving little chirps and clicks. He sounds like some weird mix of killer whale and fucking otters or something. When he saw me, he flinched back down under the water, but I had this idea.

Dr. L took his claws, and he’s still muzzled except when he’s on the table or when he eats, so like, it’s not like he can hurt me, right?

His eyes had gone to my desk, looking at… I guess all my books and papers and my laptop and everything. Maybe the candle. I waved my hand around until I saw that he was watching me again. With those big eyes it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s looking at, but when I clapped my hands he blinked at me, so I know he can hear it, can see me.

Then - and I swear I’m not lying - he moved himself up out of the water, and put his palms together. His earfins twitched out and back against his scalp, and his white hair dripped water all down his shoulders. 

He cocked his head at me. Then he put his hands together, harder this time. He clapped, and then… he clicked.

I KNEW it. I KNEW clicks were questions. Dr. L said their brains don’t work that way, but I bet they do. Who’s even considered how their brains work? Maybe they’re just like us. All the studying I’ve been doing shows that the scans we’ve done of dead ones are pretty similar in overall size and placement of their center of language. They’ve shown that mer populations have their own dialects if they don’t interact with each other, like the Atlantic transients sound totally different than the Pacific transients, which sound different than the residents that stick close to the coastlines up by Alaska...

Making my own head hurt. I don’t even care about fucking mammals, but I guess I do now. 

“That’s right,” I said when he clapped, not like he can understand but still. I said it, and I clapped again, and he clapped back. “Can you give me your head? I’ll take your muzzle off, yeah? If you don’t bite.”

Dumbest fucking idea ever, but hey. 

I think maybe he knows the word muzzle, because he whistled and shrunk down again, lowering his hands. His ear flaps flattened again. I saw the deep red marks around his neck, from how we have to use the catch-pole to get him out, and I just. I just felt like shit, you know?

I’m shit, that’s what I am, we’re torturing a child, more or less, who hasn’t done a thing to anyone but be by himself because he lost his bloody fucking family. I can’t keep telling myself I’m not the bad guy, you know? 

I’m going to jail if I report him, aren’t I? I helped bring him in, after all. There’s my whole career down the drain.

Is this how it felt when everyone was being shit to monkeys in the 70′s and calling it psychology? Did some of them just go along with it because they thought they had to?

This is not helpful, Bahram.

I sat down at my desk and tried to figure it out. His eyes were on me the whole time. I looked over at Miah’s candle, and looked at the label. Like I said, ocean scene. Fronds and ferns and…

I turned the label to face the mer, and tapped on the image with my finger. “Fish,” I said, feeling dumb as hell. I told myself, it’s a bloody animal, Dr. L would roll around laughing at you for this.

But he came back up out of the water. There was a long moment, and I heard him click, and then a soft, “Sssshhhhhh,” sound came from behind his muzzle. They have lips like ours, although their way of communicating is basically whalesong and relies heavily on underwater acoustics. He’s louder in the tank than out of it, although I guess fear might make him quiet, too.

The recordings I found on youtube they get in the ocean are deafening loud. Their voices travel so well underwater, it’s amazing. People sell fucking CDs with mersong over piano to fall asleep to. 

I poked at the ocean scene on the label again. “Fish,” I said firmly. “Do you want fish?”

He knows fish. 

I KNOW he knows fish because he sat up, held out his right arm, and tapped his elbow with a blunt-edged, broken-off claw before he looked back at me, trembling with fear. He clicked again, twice.

I can’t even tell you how shit I feel, realizing he was asking if I was going to take his blood first. That’s what he meant, it has to be. He poked at the exact spot where he’s bruised up from the needle. 

But it makes sense, right? 

He’s been here twenty days, more or less. Every couple of days, when he’s hungry enough, we bribe him with fish to get the pole on him, take blood or whatever else, and then he eats. 

No, WE don’t take his blood. I take his blood.

He thinks - and he’s fucking thinking, I know he is - that he only eats if we stick a needle in him.

I’m hurting a child.

I’m teaching a child to be hurt.

I’m not religious but this feels like the sort of thing you ask for forgiveness for, doesn’t it? I should call Maman and ask her who I could talk to. I’m going to call Maman or Baba tomorrow.

No I’m not.

What would I tell them I need to speak to someone about?

What if whoever I speak to calls and reports him, and Dr. L knows it was because of me?

I need to stop thinking about this. 

“No, NOT draw blood,” I said, and he whimpered again, held out his arm further, closer to me, tapped his elbow again. I knew he could still hurt me - their strength is prodigious, the first time we got him out of the tank he nearly pulled Dr. L down into the water with him - but I decided it was worth the risk. 

I kept thinking, he’s more scared of me than I am of him, but you know, of course he is. He’s the one with bruises.

I stretched my own arm out and showed it to him. He flinched back a little, and then leaned forward again, sitting in the little rolling tank that’s barely big enough to hold him. His blunt claws touched my arm, delicate as a feather, clicking as he poked at the sleeve of my sweater. 

“No draw blood,” I said. “Just fish. Eat.” I mimed chewing.

He looked at me and clicked twice, cocking his head, then looked at my candle from Miah, pointing at the ocean scene. “Ffff-sshhhh,” he said, muffled. 

“No, that’s a candle, it just has fish painted on it. Candle. Fire. Yes?”

Blank stare. 

Then, repeated, “Ffff-sssshhh.”

I sighed and pulled out my little lighter. I don’t smoke or anything, but I hate the way matches smell, so I have a lighter on me basically all the time. Plus, having lighters was a pretty good way to make friends back in undergrad when I gave a fuck about that. 

I flicked on the lighter, and the mer chirped, curiously. 

Has it never seen fire before?

Why would it, it lives in the ocean. Don’t be a dumbshit, Bahram.

“Fire,” I said, and held it out a little for a closer look. “Fire.” I tilted it and lit the candle, and the mer leaned forward, rapt, as the wick sparked up to flame and I blew the smaller flame on the lighter out. 

“FFfffff,” The mer said, barely audible. It clicked and held out its hand, and I wasn’t fast enough.

“No, wait stop-”

The mer’s fingertips touched the flame and it let out a deafening loud cry of pain and jerked its hand back down into the water, whimpering at the new kind of hurt, looking at me like it was MY fault, and maybe it was. Eyebrows furrowed, little crease in its forehead, big sad eyes. 

The big sad eyes are wrecking me.

“Well, don’t touch fire and you won’t burn,” I said, shaking my head. “No touch fire. Fire bad. Fire burn.”

He held out his hand to show me. “Ffff-rrrrr.” It was a plaintive little breath of air, not quite a real sound. 

The ends of two fingers were a little dark, that’s all. I could explain that by saying he’d hurt himself in the tank, maybe. I shook my head and pointed at the water, and it put its hand back in there, huffing a little breath of relief, I think. The water probably helped with the sting. 

“Right. Fire bad. No fire.”

“Ffff-rrr... buh-ddd.” 

“Right. Fire bad.” I stood up and walked over behind him, and he tried to turn and watch me but I shook my head and pointed back at the candle and he sort of huffed again and looked away. I felt him tense when my fingers touched the back of his head, but he sat still.

Probably because if he struggles when she goes to take the muzzle off or gets her fingers near his mouth, Dr. L has this electricity stick thing… 

I’m not supposed to mention that in the transcripts.

I’m not supposed to mention how he screams, and he doesn’t sound like a whale or an otter, then. He doesn’t sound like an animal.

He sounds like a child.

He IS a child

He’s just

I’m a fucking

No. I need to focus. This is stuff I can’t tell Dr. L, I need to write it down here where it’s safe.

The muzzle is easy to get off, you just need to be looking right at it, and I unbuckled and pulled it free, feeling a little resistance from how well it stuck to his face. Without it on, there are deep red lines along his cheeks and jaw, not open or bleeding, just irritated. 

He didn't grab at me, or bite. Just watched me with his big eyes as I laid it down on my desk. For a second we were both just quiet, looking at each other. 

Then he pointed at the candle again. “Ffff-sssshh.”

“No,” I said. “Candle. Fire.”

The mer’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, echoing what I did earlier. His hair slapped around. His teeth look like shark’s teeth up close, only there’s a lot less of them. “Nnnn-nnnuh,” He tried, shaking his head again.” Nnn-uh. Ffff-sssshhh.” Then he pointed at his mouth, opening wide, showing me the tongue behind his teeth. “Fffff-sssshhh. Ffff-ssshhh.”

I laughed, covering my mouth - he seems to be scared when we show too much teeth, probably in the ocean it’s a threat and they don’t smile like we do. Which, why would they? 

But, see, I realized that he wasn’t pointing at the candle at all, but at the fish painted on it. Then he moved to look at the bucket of fish he gets as a reward for obedience, and pointed at that, then looked back at me to see if I was paying attention.

Of course I was. I was barely fucking breathing. This is signs of abstract thought process, recognizing that the image of a thing isn’t the thing itself. That he can point at it to represent what he wants. “You want fish? Is that it? You’re hungry? Want to eat some fish?”

The mer blinked and made a sound like a chirp, clapped his hands together. “Rrrrr. Fff-sssshhh.” He pointed at his mouth again. “Ffff-ssshhh. Buh-rrrrmm. Ffffsshh.”

“What did you say?” I whispered. My heart went cold. I can’t describe it any other way.

“Buh-rrrrmmmm. Ffff-sssshh, Buh-rrrmm.”

The bloody thing knows my fucking name. 

He knows we have names and he knows mine and that means-... that means he has one, doesn’t it? If he has a name, if he has

I’m his fucking nightmare aren’t I 

I’m the worst fucking thing that could happen to him, me and Miah and Dr. L and Anders and this is a job but it’s the worst thing that’s happened to him and it’s only

It’s going to get worse for him.

He’s going to die here and he’ll know all our names when he does.

Anyway, so... you know... I brought him a bucket of fish.

What else was I supposed to do? 

He knows my name!

He let me put the muzzle on him again without fighting after he finished, and I got him back in the tank once the water was refreshed, and he’s sleeping off his meal now. I can see him on the feed, curled up inside the cave.

But I’m wide awake, so I thought I’d write this, because…

Because what the hell do I do now?

I can’t tell Miah.

Can I?

 ---

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @misspelledwitch @whumpfigure @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @whumpywhumper

[bluejaywriter]

Only One Chapter 21 alternate scene

Anyway here is an alternate scene I dug up to help distract you from the real world :P

“No, no, no, no, no, you can’t go swimsuit shopping with your—you know what, why don’t you just give me your size and I’ll pick something out for you.”

“Hmm.” Queen Hippolyta gazes down at her for a long moment with a quizzical expression on her face, then she sits up, careful to not rip the covers away from Martha’s bony shoulders, and she reaches over for the pen and pad of paper on the nightstand.

Martha stares up at the back of her hand, watching as she writes something, then mutters, No, American measurements, to herself and scratches out whatever she’d written down. 

“God, you are so cute.” 

Those blue eyes flicker over towards her, and they’re twinkling with amusement.

“Am I?”

“You really are,” Martha says, burying her face happily against a muscular thigh. “Thank goodness you’re not evil,” she murmurs. The strange creature that is the Queen of the Amazons shoots her a questioning look, and Martha fumbles for a reply. “I only mean—I’d probably follow you anywhere.”

“I could say the same to you, little one.”

And Martha’s brain is so scrambled from the rather fantastic kissing that was happening just a minute ago, she can’t even think of a reply, and Hippolyta is pulling away, even as Martha grasps at the folds of her tunic, trying to keep her close.

“The moment I first saw you… I didn’t want to let you out of my sight.”

Martha shifts a little, curling up around Hippolyta’s seated figure, wrapping her short arms as far as she can around that waist.

“What, in Metropolis? In the Embassy?” she asks, burrowing closer, trying to get comfortable. 

Hippolyta nods, and she gives Martha a little tug, pulling her up and into her lap, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

“I said to myself, Here is a woman worth knowing.”

“No, you said to yourself, Look at this mess, who let this in here?” Martha snorts, but her heart is racing, and she can almost feel it radiating with a soft glow of pleasure.

“And is this what you thought when you first saw me?” Hippolyta murmurs, her voice taking on just the slightest edge of shyness, and Martha grins.

“No. I was too busy being scared out of my wits.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re her.”

“Who, exactly?” Hippolyta says pleasantly, and Martha makes a face, burying her face into a muscular shoulder.

“You’re her—you’re the Queen of the Amazons, that warrior lady from the TV. You took down the purple one—what’s his face, the big purple… anyway, it was when the entire Justice League was wiped out, and all of the rest of us were being controlled by that Anti-Life thing, and you swooped in and beheaded him, and... I mean. It was amazing. It was incredible, like something from the movies. You were so... and I was just…”

“You were just what, little one?” Queen Hippolyta asks, and she’s kissing the top of her head now, that warrior lady from TV, just casually kissing the top of her head. 

“I was just sitting,” Martha mumbles. “Sitting, and watching TV, like a normal person, like a perfectly ordinary—I mean, people like me… people like me aren’t even supposed to be in the same zip code as people like you. Much less… this.”

Martha clasps her hands, holding them tight, and when she dares at glance up at that beautiful face, those ocean eyes are less teasing, and more troubled, and Martha wishes that she’d never said anything at all, because all she wanted was a kiss, and then another kiss, none of this talking thing, especially her talking, nobody needs to hear that… 

“You have every right to be in the same zip code as I am, darling,” Hippolyta says at last, cupping her cheek with breathtaking gentleness, keeping Martha from looking away. “The Amazons are here to lead mankind, to bring aid to anyone who needs it. There is no need for these false barriers you describe.”

“You’re just… you’re a lot,” Martha mumbles, and Queen Hippolyta smiles a genuine, unworried smile at last.

“Are you saying I am big?” she says, slyly throwing Martha’s rude words right back at her, and Martha blushes.

“Well, you are kind of big,” she replies, pretending to frown as she leans forward a little, so that their noses are touching. 

“Is that so?” Hippolyta murmurs, and Martha shivers. The Queen is raising an eyebrow at her, and she can feel herself practically melting…

“I mean… these are big,” she rambles, reaching down to grasp at a massive bicep, her hand barely getting around the thing. “And this is big,” she adds, reaching up to clasp Hippolyta’s head with both hands, giving it a little nod, blushing and looking away as those ocean eyes lock with hers, those pretty lips lifting into an amused smile.

“And these…” Martha begins, reaching down to grasp at something that is also big, but her mouth is suddenly dry, and her words get stuck, and her tongue gets twisty, and apparently nothing works around here anymore, and Hippolyta tilts her head slightly to the side, waiting for Martha to finish her sentence, but there’s a ninety-nine percent chance that this will never happen…

“Lustful little human…” Hippolyta sighs, reaching down and bringing Martha’s hand forward, resting it up against her heart, so that she can feel that strong Amazon blood pumping against her palm. “Why are you so lustful? Were you shot by Eros one day while you were weeding your little garden?”

“Yeah, and she looked down at me from the upstairs bedroom and said, Which of these ratty old shirts do you prefer—?”

[ilovefandoms102]

Endless Love

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Plus Size Reader

Summary: JJ has a surprise for you...

Taglist:

@drewswannabegirl @velyssaraptor @kaitieskidmore1 @jiaraendgame @teamnick @jeyramarie @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @baby-pogue​ @ma10427​ @judayyyw​ @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @agirlwholovescoffee​ @justcallmesams​ @lasnaro​ @lonely-kermit​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @ifilwtmfc​ @gviosca​ @fernweh-fangirl​ @runway-to-my-aid​ @eb15​ @tangledinsparkles​ @hurricane-abigail​ @outerbongs​ @jaxandcomet​

Note: This is another request I hope I did you justice! Also just wanted to throw a quick psa that I DO NOT condone body shaming or anything of the sort. I am a plus size female and the words used in my writings are words that not only myself but others I know have heard said about their size. Body shaming is still happening today and I want to shed light on the fact that no matter your size YOU ARE WORTHY, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, YOU DESERVE LOVE! There is not enough representation for plus size queens on this app and I created this series so that whoever reads it feels inclusive since most reader inserts are assumed to be a cute, short, skinny female. Not saying there is anything wrong with that, but there is never any stories that females are described in various shapes and sizes which is why I created this series. If you are triggered by anything in these fics then please do not read these and hurt yourself. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

=======================================

After a long day at work, there was nothing more satisfying then seeing JJ. The way his beautiful baby blue eyes sparkled every time he saw me, and the way his whole face would light up. He was the light I needed in the darkness of my mind. He made me feel beautiful despite what others, and myself think. He made me feel like I deserved more than what I let myself believe. 

======================================

It was a busy day at The Wreck, Kie and I were flying around the restaurant serving customers. Just as it had slowed down, the guys came in. I was cleaning a table, so my back was turned to them. I felt a pair of arms around me and jumped. I turned to see JJ, his signature goofy grin adorning his features. 

“Hi,” I whispered, still clutching the rag I was using.

“I wish I would have known you were planning on looking so sexy today. I would have stopped and got a picture.” he grinned, I rolled my eyes.

“You saw me before I left J, I haven’t changed any.” I laughed.

“Maybe it’s seeing you hard at work that has me going gorgeous.” he chuckled, kissing my cheek. He lived to see me blush, he thought it was adorable. 

“You’re so dumb.” I giggled, trying to escape his hold so I could go back to work. He tightened his hold, his eyes full of mischief. 

“What’s your hurry babe?” he asked, mock confusion tinting his features. His hands started to roam, from my waist, down to my love handles, and further to my ass.

“JJ stop, I’m at work!” I whisper yelled. 

“What? I’m not doing anything.” he said, his hands still roaming.

“Quit!” I laughed, grabbing his hands in mine. 

“When are you leaving? I have plans for us.” he smiled, wriggling his brows at me. 

“As soon as Kie’s dad says so, what are we doing?” I grinned, excitement coursing through me. 

“It’s a surprise.” he whispered, lips ghosting over mine.

“You know I don’t like surprises,” I sighed, my eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips that were brushing against mine. 

“I know babygirl, but I really think you’ll like this one.” he smirked.

“I need to go back to work before Kie comes and yells at us.” I chuckled, giving him a quick kiss before breaking from his hold. 

“My hard working woman, makin’ me horny just by wiping down some tables.” he winked. 

I slapped him with my rag, shooing him away so I could get out of here faster. I was a little way from the bar, turning my back to my friends. I was hoping they would talk about whatever this surprise JJ has for me. I was dying to know so I could mentally prepare myself. Surprises gave me extremely bad anxiety, but not as bad if it’s JJ.

“Can you not harass y/n while she’s working? I’d like to go home today.” Kie sighed, smiling at how sweet JJ was to me. 

“You’re just mad I get to take her sexy ass home, and you get stuck with this” JJ said, pointing to Pope. I chuckled, shaking my head at his antics. 

“Hey!” Pope exclaimed.

“Sarah and I got everything set up, text me right before you get there so we can bring out the food.” John B. tried, and failed, to whisper to JJ.

“Guys, what if she doesn’t like it?” JJ asked, I could picture a worried look on his face. 

“She will love it, I know y/n.” Kie said, I’m sure she was rolling her eyes at the blonde.

==============================

I practically sprinted to the back as soon as Kie’s dad gave us the ok to head out for the night. I was excited to spend some alone time with JJ. Both of us basically lived with John B, so we were never really alone. We really had never gone on a date either, we were always with the other Pogues getting into something. Of course I loved them, but it would be nice for one night to just be JJ and I. 

As soon as I walked to the front where JJ was waiting for me, he grabbed me up in his arms. We were both smiling like idiots, basking in our love. He leaned down and planted a sweet, tender kiss on my lips. I smiled into the kiss, making it hard for him to actually kiss me.

“Baby, stop I’m trying to get my kiss I was denied earlier.” he laughed, his lids heavy as he pulled back to look at me. 

“I can’t help it!” I giggled, grabbing his face to kiss him properly.

“Are you ready for the best surprise of your life?” he winked, pulling me out to the van.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I grinned, thanking him as he opened my door for me. JJ jumped in the driver seat, throwing on his aviators

“I love you,” he said, gripping my hand.

“I love you J,” I whispered, smiling softly at him.

==================================

I was very confused when we arrived at The Boneyard, not expecting the surprise to be here....

“Why are we at the beach?” I asked.

“You’ll see, patience baby.” he said, tipping his sunglasses down to wink.

“You irritate me,” I huffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“I promise you’ll love it.” he said, leaning over to kiss me quickly. 

JJ grabbed some stuff out of the back, opening my door when he was finished. He grabbed my hand once I jumped out of the van, taking us down the little walk way. I gasped, not believing the sight in front of me. A table was set up with a white table cloth, candles, and a vase of roses. Next to the table, a bed sheet was laid out with lots of pillows and blankets. On closer inspection, the plates on the table had my favorite meal along with a bottle of my favorite wine.

“JJ,” I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes.

“Do you like it?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.

“I love it, I love you.” I laughed, hugging him tight to me. I kissed him hard, hoping to show my appreciation for him.

“Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” he grinned, kissing my nose.

========================================

We talked, all evening long. Reminiscing on our most embarrassing moments of childhood, sometimes laughing so hard one of us almost choked. The best part of our relationship was the both of us having the same sense of humor, never a dull moment between us. I loved this boy so much, sometimes thinking about it made me want to cry. He was so kind, generous, and funny. He cared so deeply for me it left me stunned sometimes. I had known this boy my whole life, and he still was full of surprises. Kie and John B love to tease that they had never seen JJ look at a girl the way he looks at me.

“Want to go swimming?” he winked. Another great thing about JJ is that I didn’t have to worry about being embarrassed to be in a bathing suit, I mostly had to worry about him trying to tear it off of me.

“Where am I supposed to change? I didn’t even bring a bathing suit.” I chuckled.

“What if I didn’t want us to change?” he asked, his eyes clouding with an emotion I had never seen before.

“JJ, I’m not swimming in my clothes.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“Didn’t say we were wearing our clothes baby.” he said, eyeing me up and down.

“So you want-you...you want to go skinny dipping?” I asked, my face turning red. 

“Mhm,” he nodded, his tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“I-I...I don’t know J.” I stammered. I had never been naked in front of JJ before, we hadn’t sealed the deal yet. I was nervous to say the least. He got up from his chair, coming to squat in front of me.

“If you don’t want to we don’t have to baby, it’s just something I’ve always wanted to do....with you.” he said, staring deep into my eyes. 

I really wanted to, but I was hesitant. I had never shared anything intimate with anyone before, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t absolutely terrify me. But this was JJ, and I knew he loved me with all my flaws. I knew I could trust him with my insecurities. 

“I just...I’m a little nervous. I-I’ve never been ya know, in the nude in front of anyone before.” I mumbled, not able to meet his gaze.

“You are the most beautiful girl in the world y/n, you know you don’t have to hide from me. I love you...how about, if it makes you more comfortable, I’ll go out first with my back turned, and you can meet me in the water.” he said, his eyes shining with hope.

“Ok,” I whispered, my cheeks flushing as he kissed me. 

He stripped, winking at me before running out to the water. I sat stunned, my eyes wide as saucers. The boy had to be sculpted by God himself, there was not a single flaw on his body. I got up from my chair, slowly removing my clothing. The wind was a tad chilly, so I wrapped a towel around me.

I walked out to the ocean, my nerves starting to skyrocket. My heart was thumping so hard in my chest, I was afraid it would jump out any second. I removed my towel just as the dry sand met the wet, letting my hair down as well. I was thankful the waves were calm, making it easier for me to reach JJ. I ducked down in the water, swimming closer to him. I grabbed his bicep, and he turned to face me. He got down in the water with me, pulling me closer to him. I leaned my forehead on his, nuzzling his nose.His ringed hands found my thighs, pulling my legs around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, his strong arms caged me to him.

“Not so bad is it?” he grinned, tipping his nose to mine.

“I guess not,” I chuckled, leaning back to look at the sky. “It’s so pretty, look at the stars.” I said in awe.

“I don’t need to look, I have you in front of me.” he said, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his cheesy line.

“That was cheesy even for you” I laughed, my stomach hurting from how hard I laughed.

“Well I thought it was romantic.” he huffed, pouting his lips. 

I pulled myself away from him, a mischievous look in my eyes. His eyes narrowed, knowing I was up to something. I jumped, dunking him underwater. I giggled at my childish ways, squealing moments later when JJ yanked me with him. We both resurfaced, his hand came to push his hair out of his face. He stood to his full height, stalking up to me. I backed away, the look in his eye was as if he were an animal, and I was his prey. I was so turned on I started feeling pulsations all over my body. My breathing became short, my eyes wide with anticipation. 

He snatched a hold of my wrist, I gasped as he yanked to to him. Our chests were touching, my hard nipples brushing his abdomen. I stared into his eyes that had grown darker with lust. My other hand brushed against his thigh, I got a burst of confidence and started to trail my hand up his thigh. Our faces were so close together I could feel his breath on my lips. I came in contact with his hard member, JJ groaned deep in his throat. 

I tested the waters, sliding my hand up and down to see what made him make that sound again. I slid my thumb over his tip, causing a shudder to run through JJ. He was starting to pant the faster I moved my hand, his whole body becoming more twitchy. His rings were digging into my skin, his grip on my waist insanely tight, but I didn’t mind. I was so overwhelmed with pleasure from watching JJ get off from just my hand took over my senses.

“Baby, please...you’re torturing me.” he moaned, thrusting his hips into my hand.

I hummed, leaning my cheek against his. I kissed down his neck, moving my hand slightly faster. His panting breaths were hitting my neck, he leaned down and bit my shoulder. I moaned loudly in his ear, the pain mixed with the pleasure had me rubbing my thighs to seek some kind of friction. He sucked on my skin, leaving his mark behind. I jerked my hand faster, stopping to rub my thumb over his slit. He cursed into my shoulder, biting down harder on it. 

“Fuck, shit...I-I’m gonna cum baby.” JJ groaned.

He only lasted a few more seconds before he was yelling curses, his member twitched in my hand. I was in awe of this man in front of me, the pure beauty of his face in absolute pleasure was astonishing. Once he came down, he smashed his lips to mine. I moaned in his mouth, tongues and teeth fighting in a passionate battle. 

JJ started to pull me towards shore, my heart clenched. He would see me fully naked before him, but I was so turned on I didn’t pay any mind to it. I had come to the realization that no matter what I thought about myself, JJ would love me no matter what I looked like. He loved me for the person I was, and he loved every inch of me. I wasn’t scared anymore, I wanted to be with him, and I wanted him to see me at my most vulnerable state. 

“I love you,” he whispered, pulling me to the sheet that was laid out with pillows and blankets.

We both laid down, JJ coming over me. I stared at how his arm muscles bulged as he held himself up, the veins in his arms coming to the surface. His shark tooth necklace dangled from his neck, I grabbed a hold of it and pulled him to me. Our lips met for a breif second before JJ pulled away, smirking at me. I grinned as his lips moved down my neck, stopping to make little love bites along the way.

“Our friends are going to make fun of me if you don’t stop marking me J,” I laughed.

“They’ll just know we had a good time princess, I think it’s a good look on you.” he smirked into my skin. 

He moved lower, my giggle turning into a moan as he took my nipple into his mouth. He nibbled lightly on it, sending tingles all the way down to my lower regions. His other hand came to play with my other nipple, his cold rings making me shiver. My hips shifted under him, the need to feel him in my most private area becoming almost too much. JJ finally began to move, kissing the valley between my breasts and lower. He kissed all around my stomach, knowing it was one of the areas on my body I was most insecure about.

“I love you here, and here, and here.” he kissed my stomach, my waist, and my hips. Eventually kissing all over my body, a huge smile played on my features. My cheeks began to hurt from how big my smile was. My heart soared with love for this boy in front of me.

“I love you J,” I whispered, waving my hand through his drying blonde locks. 

JJ got down between my legs, propping himself on his elbows. My breath hitched in my throat as I felt his breath near my heat. I choked on a moan as he took a long lick all the way up my heat, my hips bucked into his face. His strong arms came around to hold my hips down as he licked and sucked all over my heat. My hand got tighter in his hair, yanking him closer to me. He shook his head to get as deep as possible, a long moan forcing itself from my throat. He dipped his fingers all over my wetness and his saliva before entering a finger inside me. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but I relaxed myself. When I got used to the feeling, JJ entered another finger, and bean scissoring them inside me. He sucked on my clit as his fingers began to move faster, curling inside of me. His fingers hit that special spot inside me, stars forming in my vision.

“JJ, baby, please!” I begged, squirming underneath his hold. 

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m eating babygirl or you won’t get your treat.” he smirked, I groaned and threw my head back against the pillow. 

He moved his fingers faster, pounding them inside of me at this point. His head shaking to get his tongue as far as it could go, alternating to sucking my clit. I could feel the knot in my stomach ready to snap, the obscene noises from JJ’s fingers inside me was like music to my ears. 

I let go, screaming JJ’s name over and over again. My hips tried to move off the sheet, but JJ threw his arm across me to hold me down. Sucking and licking until I started to twitch. He sat up, a proud smile on his face. I could see his chin glistening with a mix of me and his saliva, he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen him do, I looked down and saw that he had become hard again. The need to feel him inside of me taking over.

“I want you inside of me JJ,” I whispered, the sultriness of my voice surprising me.  

“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning down to kiss my cheeks.

“Yes,,I want you.” I said, sliding my hands down his sides.

“You tell me if you want me to stop ok? Do I need a condom?” he asked, raising a brow at me.

“Yes, and no. I’m covered.” I said, pulling his mouth to mine. 

He poked his member where the wetness seeping out of me was, slicking it up before slowly entering inside me. I could feel the sting, my nails dug into his biceps. He stopped for a moment watching my face. I relaxed myself, giving JJ a nod to continue. He slid all the way in, stopping to let me get used to being full of him. We were both panting at this point, JJ’s pupils were blown wide with pleasure. 

After a few moments, JJ started thrusting slowly. The uncomfortable feeling started to fizzle away and I began to feel nothing but pure ecstasy. I gasped when JJ started moving faster. His eyes were glued to where we were becoming one, his breathing becoming short. I grabbed a hold of his hair, yanking his lips to mine. Our tongues moved in sync as we both moaned into each other’s mouths. JJ tilted our hips, the new angle causing him to hit somewhere inside me that made me yelp. I threw my head back, moaning his name as a feeling of pure bliss sky rocketed through me. I could imagine him smirking at me, loving the way he made me say his name. He was pounding into me at this point, an animalistic growl leaving his throat as he chased his high. He brought one hand down to my clit, adding to the exceeding pleasure.

“Are you there baby?” he asked, his breath hitting my lips.

“Yes, fuck.” I squeaked as he hit that spot again.

He started to move faster, the sloshing sounds becoming more obscene from where we were one. His thumb on my clit moved impossibly swift, my legs starting to shake as I was almost to my peak. Both of us let go at the same time, JJ’s head fell to my neck, moaning loudly in my ear. I screamed his name, my legs twitching and shaking as I clenched on his member. My nails scratched hard down his back, a hiss coming from JJ as I’m sure I left welts behind. We both came down from our highs, JJ leaned to plant a soft kiss on my lips. He reached over to get a towel to clean ourselves off, pulling a blanket over us.

“You’re amazing, I’ve never came so hard in my life.” he sighed, flopping down on the sheet.

“You’re lying” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him.

“No I’m serious, I felt like I was having an out of body experience. Rest up my love because we’re doing that again.” he smirked, his hand traveling down to squeeze my ass.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to go again, I think I might have wore you out J.” I giggled, tracing my fingers over his abs.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, quirking a brow at me.

“Maybe..” I mumbled, biting my bottom lip as I stared into his eyes.

He rolled on top of me, his tongue poking out to lick his lips. He leaned down close to me, our lips just brushing together. I breathed out shakily, my eyes wide with anticipation. 

“I love you baby, thank you for giving me you.” he said sweetly, his eyes holding so much love I could have cried.

“You’re the man of my dreams J, there’s no one else I would rather have shared this with.” I grinned.

“And I’ll be the last, that I’m sure of.” he smirked, earning an eye roll from me.

“You’re so full of yourself,” I giggled.

“I plan on keeping you for a long time, so buckle in princess.” he smiled wide, leaning down to kiss me before I could let out my witty reply.

“Love you,” he said against my lips.

“I love you,” I whispered, caressing his cheeks.

[gffa]

Dude the one response you wrote to another anon about having a hard time being a Real Person ™️ and interacting with others online bc of anxiety and stuff hit me so hard bc like BIG SAME.

I seriously appreciate how honest you are about this, bc I have very similar issues and I try really hard to leave comments on fics or reply to comments on my fics and sometimes my brain just says NO. And then too much time passes and then it's just awkward to reply later?? And then like, if you comment on a fic and the author replies and it opens the way for more conversation... Am I supposed to reply again??? I mean like obvs I know I don't have to, so usually I don't bc STRESS. But. ???? Idk.

What's the worst is that I have this same issue in "Brick Life" (IRL?)... Like, texting/emailing/chatting with friends and aquaintences??? How?? I overthink like EVERYTHING. And I wish I could just say, "yeah hey I have these problems so sometimes I can't reply! Or my reply might come off as weird to you bc I spent an hour rewording it and now I sound like an alien!" But I don't know how??? And I've tried doing like PSAs but ppl are like "oh you're so brave for admitting you have mental health issues. I'm so proud that you're reaching out" and then they go on with their lives like I don't have debilitating anxiety and seem to expect me to interact with them in whatever way they think is "normal" and im like 🙃🙃🙃

Anyway. Socially anxious high five from me to you. And you totally don't have to reply to this at all if you don't want to! I just read what you say sometimes about having anxiety and stuff and my brain goes "!!!!!! SAME HAT!!!!!"

Have a good day/night/time 💞

GOD, I REWROTE THIS RESPONSE LIKE FIVE TIMES, no, I’m not kidding. Yes, it’s funny because that’s what this response is about but also I really did. So, I’m going to start with this: And I wish I could just say, "yeah hey I have these problems so sometimes I can't reply! Or my reply might come off as weird to you bc I spent an hour rewording it and now I sound like an alien!" But I don't know how??? ^ Say exactly this!  Seriously!  It doesn’t have to be a big, huge conversation piece about how you’re anxious, you can just drop that in quick at the beginning, just tell the person, “Hey, brain weasels are really wriggling around up there today, so this took me awhile to cough up, so if it sounds like it’s weirdly terse or something, that’s not the intention, I’m just anxious about it.” and then go right on into the conversation. I’ve found that the shame of social anxiety is a real pain in the ass, but so is letting it define me.  It’s a thing I have!  It sucks massively!  I have to deal with it every day and in almost every conversation!  People want to help, and when I can tell them specifically what I need (usually it’s just that I need some extra understanding if I sound stilted or terse or disjointed, to know that it’s not that I’m being an asshole, it’s that I’m herding cats up there and this was the best I could get out in the moment), it goes a long way, because people are very understanding! Or, for example, sometimes I go on a little too much because I can’t stop myself and then I’ll tack on something like, “LOL GOD SORRY I know this is obnoxious, I just had FEELINGS, I’ll let you go now.” and throw in an emoji something to lighten the mood. Or, if you’re friendly with someone and they’re like, “What’s wrong, you seem off today.” and you can reply with, “[tosses a rock at] SOCIAL ANXIETY SUCKS AND I HATE MY LIZARD BRAIN.  (Okay, I’m being dramatic, but sometimes you gotta be over the top about these things!)” Or even something as simple as “/Social Anxiety Having Nerd Trying To Be Totally Normal Level Of Cool To Interact With” at the start/end of something as a reminder to people. Make it silly, even when the feelings are real, while also letting yourself off the hook for feeling this way! A lot of us are dealing with anxiety or other various forms of mental health issues, many of which are going to be with us for a long time, if not the rest of our lives.  It can be exhausting to carry this shit around, to feel like you have to do so much more work than other people do just to have a goddamned conversation.  And there are absolutely times to be deadly serious about it, especially if you’re having a bad day and need to vent or just need some commiseration.  Figure out what you need from your friends, what they specifically can do to help, but also have some humor with it and remember that, hey, if other people can fake it until you can’t tell they had anxiety, then you can fake it so that others can’t tell you have anxiety. Remember that there almost always will be more chances in the future to interact with someone, another fic will come along, another conversation will come along, another meta will come along, there will be more chances, so if you have to let some pass by because you don’t have the energy to get up over the anxiety hill to comment, then that’s okay, too.  A lot of us are dealing with this stuff and some missed chances are because we’re human. I mean, if you do get up the energy to respond and don’t know where to go from there, it’s okay to not respond back!  It’s okay if they don’t respond back!  People are but blobs floating in the currents of the ocean, sometimes they bob closer, sometimes they bob further away, but they’ll always come back and go away and come back again.  And that goes for you, too.  If responding to something makes your brain go N O P E, then don’t stress about it.  If you’re just kinda nervous, remember that other people can’t tell NEARLY as much about you as you think they can. Everyone is up their own asses about their own stuff, so you can be a trainwreck over here and hardly anyone is going to notice because they’re too busy thinking about their own trainwreck!  I promise you, people are not NEARLY as perceptive as you fear they are, when it comes to piercing the veil of your social anxiety, and so it’s okay to just let stuff slide or be a little twitchy, because you’re a person and so is everyone else.  ♥

[nieladasdenani]

The daylight’s fading slowly (but time with you is standing still)

So, months later I finally was able to finish the prompt @mooooonshine gave me: The Corrs - Breathless + Summer Vibes. I hope it holds to your expectations, as it was erased twice accidentally! I love the Corrs, actually, so maybe that helped keep trying. You can also read this in AO3, if you rather.

Lena Luthor hates the beach.

She's aware that it's an unpopular opinion. And it's not just because standing in the shore of vast expanses of water trigger some trauma. It's not to be edgy either. Lena can actually appreciate the gentle breeze coming from the ocean, the calming sound of the waves. But she's not a fan of the Sun burning her skin, unless she's cocooned under a palm tree wearing a giant hat and shawl. Or the intense heat that makes the sand stick to her skin. Or the noise of too many people having too much fun, everyone trying to impose their respective playlists.

And yet, here she is. Dragged by her traitorous best friends with a flimsy excuse of getting back out there, Lena. So, it's been a while since she's last had casual sex. But less time since she had sex, though. She just ended a two-year relationship, and it's in no hurry to get back out there. Jack is still a dear friend, and it was her who ended things, it's not that she's opposed to casual sex, or one-night-stands, it's a matter of respect for the relationship they had.

"It's been a month, Lena. I think you mourned your kill long enough." Andrea's deadpan comment reaches Lena's internal ramblings, as if her friend could read her mind. She supposed she can, after all those years of friendship. Which is also why Lena glares at her openly and without remorse.

"No. Don't start, you two. We're here to have some fun, and enjoying a lovely day at the beach. We deserve a break!" Sam's always been the soft one out of the three of them. "It's also a good opportunity to meet new people!" Now Sam's throwing an unfairly sweet, hopeful smile at Lena, which in turn make her frown harder.

"Et tu, Brute?"

"Now, there's no need to be so dramatic, Lena. I'm not saying you have to, we're here to have a good time as friends, and if it happens, then, great!" Sam has the audacity to grin, and Lena is appalled to find herself softening in the face of her friends' love. Lena's not about to show this, though. Especially not when Andrea is smirking smugly at her, as if she knows she's won.

"Why are you smiling as if you enjoy spending time at a packed beach?" Lena fires at Andrea, who shrugs:

"I like it just fine. More so when I can eye such delicious, half naked snacks." She says this while pointedly looking in the general direction of a very tall, very handsome dark skinned man, who's smiling at a much shorter but equally gorgeous dark haired woman. Lena's about to point out how the pair seem to be a couple to Andrea, when Sam can't contain her enthusiasm any longer and explodes with an expressive:

"Who wants to get in the water!?"

Neither Lena, nor Andrea startle at the exuberant proposition, they both acknowledge it, however, with a decline. Though, Andrea promises to join her in a future immersion. The rejection doesn't affect Sam in the slightest, who skips the short distance that separates her from the ocean and dives head-first into the water, disappearing from view.

The attention of the remaining pair is grabbed by loud exclamations of joy coming from a group of people that are settled a short distance from them, only to discover that tall and handsome and short and gorgeous are part of the neighbors, and the actual reason they are whooping. Lena imagines it's because they come bearing alcohol and snacks.

"It seems like your snack is already taken." If she's going to have to get through this by force, Lena might as well be annoying, perhaps it will deter her friends from future abductions to the beach.

"Are you not familiar with concept of eye candy?"

"All I'm saying is, if you're going to fantasize about a handsome man, but it turns out he has a gorgeous girlfriend, and they're displaying it so publicly it must dampen the illusion somehow." Lena shrugs, not willing to let it go.

"You said that like it's a problem. All I hear is: handsome man and gorgeous woman. I'm sure you can also appreciate this combo." Andrea directs an arched brow at her, and Lena sighs in defeat, because she sure as hell can appreciate it.

"You're incorrigible." Lena huffs out with a laugh.

"Hey, guys!" They hear Sam, and turn in time to see her waving them from near the edge where sand meets water. Her smile impossibly large as droplets drip from every inch of her. Lena instinctively waves back with a small smile, but then freezes, because right behind her friend there's a goddess.

"Oh, no." She can't help the murmur that escapes her. It's a miracle that she recovers enough, despite Andrea's pointed, mocking, laugh. Just in time for Sam and her new friend to reach them.

"This is Kara!" Sam wears a smile that would be predatory when directed at Lena if it was in anyone else's face, specially Andrea's. "We were talking, and she's inviting us to join her and her friends to spend the day here at the beach!"

"Oh, isn't that wonderful, Lena?" And sometimes, Lena truly wonders why she allowed a friendship with Andrea to bloom after they fucked in college.

"Yes, so gracious." The growl is directed at her friends, but the moment she circles back to look at Kara, Lena finds herself smiling genuinely. Not only because the girl is ridiculously beautiful and fit, but because she's sporting one of the most charismatic smiles Lena has ever been hit with in her life.

"Hi! Sam said you guys were here to have a break from life, and so are we. So I figured we could just join forces and have a good time?" She's chipper, which should be enough to save Lena from this situation, because Lena Luthor hates the beach and Lena Luthor doesn't do chipper. And yet...

"That'd be wonderful, thank you, Kara. Are you sure it won't be a problem with the rest of your group?" Lena finds herself saying.

"Oh! Not at all! They're all very friendly and welcoming. Like I told Sam, it's really not a problem."

"Lovely. I'm Andrea, by the way. This is Lena. It seems as if our dear Sam has forgotten her manners."

"Right! Sorry!" She sounds anything but. "Anyway, shall we?" She's practically jumping with excitement and hurries to carry as much of their things as she physically can. Kara then jumps in to help, despite Lena's protests.

"No, it's no problem." And god, that smile is a weapon.

Turns out they fit right into the group, mostly because said group is outstandingly welcoming, at least after some awkward introductions that served to confirm that tall and handsome (James) and short and gorgeous (Lucy) are, indeed, a couple. Lena tries to send a smug smirk Andrea's way, but her friend looks, if anything more pleased. Incorrigible.

Kara doesn't leave Lena's side, not even when she looks like she's physically ill at the prospect of not getting into the water when most of the group decides to dip together. Andrea included, which almost makes Lena openly balk at her. Kara keeps stealing glances at the friends loudly enjoying the water, so much so that even Lena is close to feel like she wants to join them, too.

"You should go. I promise I'll be here when you come back." Lena teases. Satisfied when a light blush covers Kara's lovely face. 

"Are you sure?"

"Of course! You look like you're about to turn green with envy." Lena appreciates Kara's laugh, like she's always been free to express it, and she finds herself wanting to hear it more. A lot more. Odd.

"Ok! I'll be right back! Have fun, don't let Alex scare you, she's actually a softy." And with that Kara bolts to the water as if she'll turn to sand if she's not wet promptly... Ok, maybe not the best analogy, now Lena feels like she needs to dip in cold water. Ah, Alex. The big sister. Right. She has been friendly enough, but she keeps giving Lena the side eye and Lena's afraid she may receive a shovel talk she's not sure if she's ready to face. Lena faces her with a solid, confident stare, she's a Luthor, after all.

"So," Alex starts, "how are the labs at Luthor Corp? You're awful far from Metropolis." She never leaves her stare from Lena's face, not even when she sips at her drink. Which is a problem, because even if Lena recovers well, she's sure Alex didn't miss how much her question startled her. 

"Hm, are you keeping tabs on me? What is it, agent, special agent?" Lena remembers Kara gushing about her sister's accomplishments when she introduced them, FBI.

"Doctor Danvers is fine." She says. Smug. Lena squints at her. "I'm something of a scientist myself."

"Ah, that's what Kara meant when she said you were like Scully, then." And, surprisingly, they share a fond huff of a laugh over it. So maybe there's still hope.

"Yes. I like to keep up with the latest and greatest of the scientific community as much as I can. And that seems to lately involve Luthor Corp more often than not." Oddly, Lena sees the thinly veiled compliment, she tries not to blush.

"Well, it's a passion of mine. The lab, that is." Alex hums, but adds nothing, just keeps her gaze on Lena. And are moment like these when she's grateful for Lilian, she would be squirming if it weren't for her mother. They share a few more charged stares. Then Alex sighs and drops her eyes for a moment.

"Just don't play with her, all right?" Oh, wait what? Oh, no. She thinks... No!

"We're moving the company to National City!" What? What is she doing' why is she revealing secret information to a literal stranger? "We're changing the name, too. To L-Corp." Oh my god, someone please shut her up! Now! Oh she's dead. And Alex looks completely baffled, she even takes a couple of tries to speak.

"I...Oh. Oh, ok. That's, that's great."

"You can't tell anyone, though." She's not begging, just clarifying. "Please." An afterthought.

"Sure, no problem."

"I wouldn't. I wouldn't play with her." And here Alex sends her a searching look, no doubt looking for flaws. She doesn't seem to find any, because there aren't, and because she shrugs, finally.

"All right. That's all I ask. She's a big girl, she can take care of herself. But If you break her heart I'll make you regret it."

Lilian is going to kill her. Why is she revealing corporate secrets like this? For fear of the sister of a girl she finds cute (ok, glorious)? What the fuck? Since when does she panics like this? Why does she even care to make clear to Alex she's not playing with Kara? Oh Lilian is definitely murdering her now, no matter she's the only child she has left, now that Lex went crazy. So she probably shouldn't be making fun of her brother's very serious mental illness, but she's in self-destruct mode, apparently. Oh, forget Lilian killing her! Sam and Andrea are going to mock her relentlessly. Wait, they don't have to find out! None of them. Oh, good.

"What's wrong with you?" Andrea's usually unimpressed drawl has a tint of concern. And Lena is so caught off guard by the return of the rest of the group form the water that she gapes a little. Which only makes Andrea's frown deepen.

"Nothing. What's wrong with you?" Great. Excellent comeback. Andi's eyebrows almost touch her hairline.

"What did you do?"

"Everything ok?" Kara's sweet voice carries a hint of menace, and both Lena and Andrea turn to see her in such a defensive pose it's kind of uncanny to associate it with the sunshine girl they've met. It's actually kind of hot.

"I don't know. But she looks terribly guilty." Andrea, who seems to be a little impressed herself, says while pointing her accusing finger at Lena.

"Oh! Are you ok?" And she's back to being sweet, sitting back down next to Lena and scooting closer in case she wants to share a secret... again.

"Yes. Yes, of course."

The situation is gathering the attention of everyone, and Lena is sure that she's heading towards a panic attack. But her rescue comes from the least expected place: Alex.

"It's fine. She's just trying to reconcile the fact that I'm FBI and a scientist that knows science."

Lena sends a grateful smile Alex's way, because that seemed to be enough of an explanation for everyone else. Everyone else, except Andrea, of course. Lena does her best to ignore her, which is honestly not that hard with Kara so close to her giving her all of her attention, or the years of practice Lena has in the matter of ignoring Andrea. Also because Andres has her own source of distraction, in the form of James and Lucy. The day goes by in a whirlwind of fun, Lena's loathed to admit. Until Kara's stomach actually growls.

"Yep," Alex says, "that sounds about right. How about we order some actual food before hungry hungry hippo here resorts to cannibalism?" Kara's pouting, but she's also not offering any sort of dispute either. Something Lena shouldn't find adorable, and yet...

Somehow night crawls on them, and Lena is surprised to find that she's not drunk, despite having been drinking since they joined Kara's group. Actually, now that she thinks of it, none of them are. It's probably because Kara was making sure they were all drinking water and eating regularly, the whole time. She feels a little shift in her heart.

It looks like the spell will be broken when Sam regretfully announces that she needs to pick up Ruby from her dad's place. Andrea and Lena start to get ready to go with her, but Sam adamantly refuses them, ordering them to stay and enjoy the rest of the night. That she's just going to pick up her daughter and head home anyway. They insists, even Alex offers to be the one going with Sam, which strikes Lena as odd (doesn't Alex have a girlfriend?). But Sam, for her sweet disposition is really good at being a mom and having a mom voice.

"The only thing is that you two are going to need to find a way get back. I trust our new friends to take care of that?" James is the first to scramble to placate Sam that they'll make sure Lena and Andrea get home safe.

After Sam left night was quick to fall and they group started to retire for the day. Alex received a call from her girlfriend, Brainy and Nia left for Nia’s roommate’s birthday party, Winn had “mysterious date” his friends were teasing him about the whole time.

To Lena’s utter surprise, Andrea ended up leaving with James and Lucy, sporting the smuggest of smirks. This left Lena in the sole company of one Kara Danvers. Lena is actually surprised of how good her day at the beach was, she had fun, she feels like she did make new friends, not acquaintances, but actual friends. She also learned a lot about Kara, who has no reservations in wearing her heart for all to see. Which in Lena’s life is refreshing. It’s why she can tell the blonde is nervous when she says:

“I, I could walk you?” She doesn’t word it as a question but her voice does this thing that makes it sound like one. It’s endearing. It’s disarming.

“I’d like that.” And Lena’s nervous, too. She’s just better at hiding it. She’s nervous because she really wants to fuck Kara tonight. But she truly doesn’t want Kara to be a one-night-stand, or something even more ridiculous, like a summer love. But, god, she really wants to make love to this absurdly beautiful girl. And the walk is lovely, the air is a little cooler, but mild enough they can stay in their beach clothes, it gets lovelier when Kara spots her favorite ice cream stand open and insists she introduces Lena to:

“The best ice cream ever, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure.” She is, because she’s starting to believe everything with Kara is going to be delightful, Lena’s never been more charmed in her life.

Kara ends up buying a monstrosity that’s like a sample of every flavor available in one giant cup. Lena voices her concern about the amount of ice cream, and how she doubts they’ll be able to finish it. And Kara looks at her with a genuinely offended expression. Admittedly, the ice cream is delicious, and surprisingly, Kara does manage to finish the whole thing by the time they reach the hotel Lena’s staying in while her new apartment is done. They both look at the entrance like it has personally offended them.

“Well, this is me.”

“Yeah. Uh… Would you… I know you’re an important scientist and are probably super busy, but, do you think we could see each other again?”

“I’d love that.” Lena’s sure she’s never sported a bigger smile on her face. “Here, let me add you to my contacts, and I’ll text you so you have my number as well.”

“Yes, yeah. That’s awesome!” They exchange numbers like giddy teens, but still linger just outside the door.

“Would you like to come up?”

“Oh, you have no idea. I really, really do. But I want you in my life for as long as I can have you, you know? I mean, I want to do this right.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, if… if that’s what you also want, of course!”

“What I want is you, naked, in my bed.”

“Oh… Rao…” Kara’s so red, it’d be concerning if it wasn’t so adorable. “I really want that, too. I do. But, will that mean like a one night thing? What are you proposing, exactly?” Lena is so surprise for a moment, about the openness of Kara’s feelings, that it’s taken the wrong way. “I’m not, like, trying to pressure you into anything! Please, don’t freak out! It’s just, I like you so much, I really would like to maybe try and see if we work? Together? Like, as a couple? I know we just met… What I mean is, I’d like to know where we stand.”

“Kara,” because Lena doesn’t ever want to be the reason Kara looks this distressed again. “I’d love to explore the possibility of a romantic relationship with you. I know what you mean, you want to go step by step. I appreciate that. I just really wanted to have my way with you tonight.” Lena teases. And suddenly, Kara’s whole body language changes, she gains some confidence at Lena’s confirmation of affection.

“Well, I’ll make it worth the wait.” And oh, Lena is going to hold her to that.

They’re close enough to each other there’s no way to tell who initiates the kiss, it’s probably both of them, honestly. It’s soft, but so full of promise, Lena suddenly has no problem with doing the thing right, doing it their way, at their pace. She has a feeling this is all going to be worth it.

As a matter of fact, she’ll be right. She and Kara would go to start a relationship that’d be the best either of them ever experienced. They complement each other nicely, when Kara is impatient, Lena steps up, and when is Lena the one rushing things, is Kara who grounds her. It’ll start with regular coffee dates, then dinner dates, then lunch dates at Lena’s office. Game nights, movie nights. It’ll be like watching a flower bloom. And yes, the wait for the love making part will absolutely be worth the wait.

[official-lucifers-child]

TW for suicide

I’m so sorry in advance, you don’t deserve this, but I’m scared of hotlines and can’t think of anyone else. You can ignore it if you want, you’re mental health is always more important, and I’ll probably survive anyway. But there are pills next to my bed. They’re right across from me. I know I have enough to kill myself. I want to so badly. There’s water too. It’d be so easy. I’m terrified. Why do I feel such terror at a thing that my mind is demanding? What do I do? What do I do? I wanna throw them out the window, I want to scream at them as they fall, but I need them for health and they’re too expensive for me to do that. I wanna throw them in the ocean and crush them under my feet. I keep imagining how easy it would be. Just take them. Just put some in my mouth. I know what it’d feel like. Take the water. Then wait. I’m terrified. I’m terrified. I don’t wanna commit suicide, but god do I want to. I have no one. I don’t know what to do with them. I’m scared to even touch them. And I know I’ll never have peace of mind unless I see them ground to dust. I’m so so sorry, because you don’t deserve this pressure, but I don’t know what to do. I wanna sleep. But each time I try my mind wonders back to just how easy it would be. Please god I don’t know what to do and I’m sorry. Any sort of distraction or coping mechanism I’ll take. Do what you need, but if you have one single word, I’ll take it

okay love, listen to me, alright?

get the exact amount that you will need for you next medical dose, for the next time you need to take your meds. i don’t know if that’ll be in the morning or what, but get that exact amount out and put it in a little cup or on a tissue or something for you. now take the bottle/container and you can do one of a few things:

get it out of reach, out of the room, the floor, whatever. out of sight, out of mind. put it on a high shelf or something.

give it to someone you trust. say you keep losing them and ask if they’ll keep them safe for you, or say you keep forgetting to take them on time and ask if they’ll keep them and remind you when you need to

split up the big batch into little batches. if you need tot take two pills at a time for your meds, split them all up into pairs and put them in different places. two on your desk, two in the kitchen, two in your backpack, two in the bathroom. get them away from each other, in only the exact amount that you need to take medically.

if you want the feeling of pills, find a small candy like skittles or m&ms or even jelly beans and have a handful of those and swallow them down with water. i have a safety pack of skittles in my backpack specifically for when i need to feel like i’m having pills, because i can swallow them and then lay in bed and “wait” and usually i fall asleep and when i wake up, i’m all good

now busy your hands and mind. play a game, read something, get a fidget or a  toy or blanket. distract yourself. call someone if you want, so they can just be there with you. i’ll be happy to call you on discord, we won’t have to talk but i’ll keep you company. i find that when i’m feeling especially suicidal, just sitting on a group call with someone keeps me from doing anything, even if no one else is there. what if someone joins and i’m not there to talk to them? you know?

you may be hungry, or tired. i find that if i’m hungry i tend to hate other people and myself, and if i’m tired i just hate myself. everything becomes 10x worse and 10x harder to do when you’re tired. eat a little something, and then try to get some sleep.

it’ll be okay. you have a life, and a good one. you will. you will live and see the prettiest sunset you’ve ever witnessed and life will be good. live to tomorrow, live to the end of the week, live til i get an A in chemistry, live til you get your own cat, whatever you want.

you said you have no one

you have me

i’m here for you, okay? and i will try to be here for you for as long as i possibly can

[sunflowerheartsandstarryskies]

The Devil and the Mermaid - Chapter Two

(a Lucifer x Mermaid!Reader) 

Word Count: 1.5k

Prev Chapter  |  Next Chapter

Author’s Note: The inspiration here came from a dream of mine, also one of my favorite shows “The Legend of the Blue Sea” has some heavy inspiration in here as well. Thank you so much for the support in the first part! I will also create a tag list for this story since I saw someone interested in that. Again I love reading your guys’ comments and if you want to be part of a tag list for this series please let me know :)

Tagged: @magnet-girl

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“Then what are you then?” Lucifer asked, confused.

You took a big deep breath and said, “Humans call my species mermaids. We’ve lived in these oceans for thousands of years.”

Lucifer took a step back and looked quite perplexed as he muttered, “A mermaid? I didn’t know dad created those.” He looked in your eyes as he asked, “Is that why you were in the ocean just a while ago? How did you get legs then?”

You looked down at your feet and wiggled your toes experimentally. You replied, “Well, I am still not sure myself but there’s a saying in my clan, ‘The moon pulls you towards your destiny.’ There’s only a handful of mermaids that ever really turn human and that’s because the mermaid falls in love with a human the moon will grant them their legs, but the human must be in love with the mermaid or they either die or have to go back in the ocean.”

“What do you think it is?” Lucifer asked as he moved back to be a few inches away from you.

“I think it’s you. I heard your voice and it was the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. The moon heard my wish of wanting to be close to you and transformed my tail into legs,” you answered honestly.

“You think you’re in love with me?” Lucifer questioned and he emphasized the “me” with him gesturing to himself.

You tugged on your sleeves nervously and stated, “I don’t know, but I want to know. A mermaid doesn’t trust explicitly unless she knows for certain the human’s heart is true, and for some reason, you make it so easy to want to trust you with everything.”

“Oh, love, listen I don’t think you want to do that with me. Find someone else. Someone more human,” he replied earnestly.

“Why? I fell in love once I heard your voice, and I would like to have my mind catch up with my heart. Please don’t throw me back in the water, I want to see this new world, let me do it with you, please,” you babbled clutching on his jacket sleeves.

“Then I should confess something to you, I’m not human either,” Lucifer breathed. “Are you a mermaid too?” you asked a little excitedly.

“Well not quite, I’m the Devil,” Lucifer stated.

You scrunched up your nose and furrowed your brows in confusion as you asked, “What’s a devil? I’ve never heard of that before.”

“It means I’m someone really really bad. Someone that you shouldn’t trust. You deserve a good person, someone with that true heart you’re looking for. I’m a monster, little mermaid. I don’t want to show you my true self, because I don’t want to scare you away. I feel like my father brought you to me as if he is mocking me and he’s going to pull you away if I get too close.”

“I don’t understand, is your father the moon? The moon and the stars are what us mermaids live and love by, so who is your father to push me away or towards you, if he doesn’t even control the tides. If your true face is what makes you so scared, can you trust me with it? Like I trust you with myself?”

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Lucifer wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but you made him feel so safe without even trying, he didn’t know his father created mermaids until he met you. He wanted to let his guard down with you, you looked at him and didn’t see a disgrace or an outcast, for Father’s sake, you didn’t even know who He was or what the Devil is. So, it was his turn to drop his shields and show his true self to you. ‘What an odd way to end this day’, he thought to himself.

“I can show you my wings to show that I am not human, but I can’t show you my devil face not now anyway,” Lucifer said. He took a deep breath and allowed his wings to stretch out from him, he opened up his eyes, which he didn’t realize he closed, to see you look at him as if he was something beautiful, something worthy to look at.

“They’re so pretty, how can someone with such pretty wings be so bad as you say?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

He let out a huff of a laugh and put his wings back into his back as he settled his hands on your arms as he spoke, “Well I guess you convinced me then, let me take you back to my place. Fair warning, it’s not a typical place for humans to live in, but I like my home.”

“Well, it’s a good thing neither of us is human then, huh?” You asked and he gave a small grin at that as you felt him put his hand at the small of your back.

He started gently guiding you to where he had his car parked, he was a little excited and very worried about having someone who was so willing to love and had such a powerful feeling that he needed to protect you. He never felt this way with Chloe Decker, with her it was more out of curiosity for the job and the odd experiences that she seems to bring with it.

As he was driving he managed to steal looks at you, and you looked breathtaking to him. He has never seen another being look as radiant as you do with so little effort, wearing nothing but his robe and your wet hair still framing your face. On anyone else that look would be a hangover outfit but with you, he feels himself already feeling more human with you, it was invigorating.

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When you reached the entrance of Lux, you were already entranced with the human world with so many iridescent lights, large buildings, bright colors, and so many sounds. So, when you reached this new building you realized it was a gathering place for other humans and there was very loud music coming out of the place. Lucifer had an interaction with a man that opened the entrance for the two of you, and instead of your back his hand grabbed yours and you realized how nice it was.

A woman stopped the two of you when he tried to go into an elevator, she barked, “Look who decided to show up after that little party gig, you were supposed to be back two hours ago. Is this the bitch-”

“Don’t call her that, especially since you’ll be seeing more of her soon. Keep your mouth shut, I like you Maze and I respect you to a degree so I’ll drop it. See you in the morning,” he glared. His eyes flashed red as he took a step to the woman while making sure to keep you behind him when he was talking to her. He looked back to you and instantly his eyes softened at you, and he led you to the elevator.

Once you reached his room you did a little spin as you took in everything that you were seeing. Lucifer was observing you and then said, “I’m sorry about that down there, that was Maze, I didn’t how she would react to me being late back, I didn’t her to say harsh words to you.”

“Does she not like me? I haven’t met her before, I don’t think anyway,” you asked very confusedly.

Lucifer ran a hand through his hair and just shook his head and pointed towards his bedroom as he said, “Well, let’s get ready to sleep then. I’ll find some more clothes for you I think might fit you.”

He came back with a comfy-looking black hoodie and a pair of briefs, as he asked, “I’m guessing you need help with figuring out clothes?”

You gave an embarrassed look at him as you nodded. So, he helped you put on the underwear first then guided you through the complicated web that was a hoodie. As your head went through the head hole of the hoodie, you were an inch away from Lucifer’s face, you blushed and he was staring as you both realized how close the two of you are. You leaned in slightly into his warmth when you felt his brush the side of your face, but then you felt his lips on your forehead.

‘You really are quite cute, darling,” he stated making you blush. He cleared his throat when he continued, “well, let’s get you settled in bed and we’ll discuss what to do next from here. I’m gonna be sleeping on the couch here. Okay?” You gave a nod as he showed his bedroom.

Once you settled into bed you slept with your last thoughts thanking the moon and stars for guiding you to this amazing person, and dreaming of an amazing new world you got whirled in.